#i left my heart in syntax error

[madc0w]

Cylob - I Left My Heart In Syntax Error

thanks! very 3 a.m.-music-y!

[flowerandblood]

Writers & Readers

My thoughts. I've been thinking about this relationship a lot lately and I wanted to summarize it in one post, which I hope will open some people up more and try to better understand what writers are dealing with.

You come up with a story, write it down, read it, wonder if it makes sense, remove repetitions and errors, read it again, create moodboards and headlines, publish and wait.

When I posted the first chapter of my story here, I didn't know how hashtags worked yet and I made many mistakes, my writing style, punctuation and syntax also left much to be desired. On the first day, my first chapter got 12 notes and one comment and I was shocked because someone read it! It inspired me so much that I wrote the second chapter the same day.

With each chapter, more and more people read my stories, I squealed with joy when one part received more than 100 notes, considering it a gigantic success (I still think so).

However, the more notes I had, the more successful my stories were, the more people reblogged my chapters, the more people began to appear who sent me unpleasant anonymous messages, usually calling them constructive criticism. There were some, but most of them were malicious remarks about the hero/heroine not acting as someone would like or that my approach was wrong, ending with insulting me and intruding into my private life.

I've noticed a pattern that other writers can probably confirm - these are often messages from other writers. Those who cannot cross a certain line, those who feel aggrieved that others support each other and reblog, but not him/her.

Except I was in the same place. I just earned it. I have improved my way of writing, my stories are better thought out, my readers have looked at my chapters themselves and decided that they want to follow my stories, for which I am grateful.

I'm tired of people who want easy solutions, I'm tired of people who hide behind anonymous messages - but - when you turn them off, they don't dare to write similar things in private. If they are so sure of what they say and that they are right and I am stupid, where are they now?

While browsing the wall, I come across and start reading stories that I don't like and then I stop halfway through and continue reading other posts. But I would never dare to write to such an author that I don't like his/her story.

I wouldn't dare tell him/her: these are my good tips, you better follow them if you want to succeed. No! It's rude, upsetting and unnecessary.

Never give unsolicited advice unless someone asks for it.

I am begging you, give the writers whose stories you love your support, your comments, hearts, reblogs, private messages or even asks, let them feel from time to time that you are with them, that they are doing a good job, that every day you are waiting for a new chapter of theirs history. Nothing is more inspiring.

Of course, we write for ourselves and our satisfaction, but it is your comments that comfort us, make us laugh, and give us the feeling that what we do is good.

[thegreatimpersonator]

hi, it's crush anon! thank you for your response, i appreciate it :)

in response to the anon who suggested limiting contact, i've definitely tried! we see each other at most for two hours a day and i rarely directly talk to him even when we're in close proximity. i kinda go silent and talk with my other friends. the thing is it doesn't seem to work😭

normally when we talk our interactions are limited to hello's. he's actually tried to get me to open up more and be actual friends with him but that makes me really sad and slightly uncomfortable because i, unfortunately, wear my heart on my sleeve and i fear that he'll realize i like him (i already suspect he has an inkling which is insanely mortifying but that's a whole different thing), so i kinda brush him off and keep it brief.

the last time i spoke to him was a little more than a week ago. none of our other close friends were at practice that day so i was colossally bored and accidentally spoke to him in response to a story he told. he seemed really surprised that i was talking and then much to my displeasure KEPT TALKING TO ME. i tried to brush him off and was a little brusque with him once and even though i felt like a real bitch he kinda backed off which was what i wanted. but THEN a little later he was like. "why don't we be friends? i'd really love to be friends" SO NICELY AND KINDLY and HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY NO TO THAT????? because i, unfortunately, both don't *want* to say no because i do really like talking to him (wHICH IS THE PROBLEM) but also if i say no then it'll open up the whole thing of why i don't want to be friends at well that won't do either, you see? so i was like "..ok" and he kept happily talking to me for the rest of practice. anyway that left me absolutely DUMBFOUNDED because what do you mean he actually likes my presence???? what do you mean. this isn't good. it would be easier if he hated my guts.

ANYWAY. so sorry, i got a little side-tracked there. i just really needed to get that off my chest lmao. but the point of all that is that that interaction is probably the most we've talked since we used to be friends. we RARELY talk directly and somehow i have super intense feelings for him. i don't know, it sounds so silly!! how do i like someone that i don't even talk to????

and here's another thing!!! every year for the past four years he leaves from early february to mid may to do a school thing instead. so that ^^^ interaction happened on the last day i'll get to see/talk to him until may. i HOPE TO GOD that the feelings will go away, but seeing as they haven't the last two years in which he has also done this, i'm not holding out hope.

i'm definitely going to try to get over him! do whatever it takes. and if i don't now, well, he's leaving in august and i probably won't ever see him in a capacity where we share more than pleasantries again, so !!!! here's to hoping!!

and to the advice about hating him! i'm going to TRY and use that, but he's such a good person that i don't think i'll be able to trick my brain into believing it. AND ALSO. i was CURSED with the absolute inability to get the ick. the amount of times i sHOULD HAVE gotten the ick from this man?????? the amount of times he has jokingly talked in a baby voice in a way that would normally be positively REPULSING but apparently NOT TO ME is insane????? genuinely who cursed me.

anyway, thank you SO MUCH for listening and responding to me! you have no idea how much it means to me. i've kept all of this locked up for years now and it genuinely has been eating me alive. it feels so good to get it out there to somebody. so thank you!!!! ily <3

sorry i got very carried away with this ask. if anyone has ideas on how to get past this i will try ANYTHING, but i honestly think i've just gotta wait it out at this point.

and very last thing! apologies for all the grammatical and syntax errors. i'm so sorry if this didn't make sense, i typed all of this out in a harried frenzy istg

oof the forced proximity must be a nightmare, definitely doesn’t help the situation. definitely just try and be annoyed by everything, that’s honestly the only thing i can think of that might help. and no problem! i can only imagine how hard it must be because you can’t really talk to anyone about it. hopefully you trick your brain into being annoyed lol. ❤️❤️

[crystallizati0n]

I left my heart in syntax error.

[meredithhunnter-blog]

“The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep-blue save for a pattern of diamond-pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell; withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.” ― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[reinerslt]

Back to you - Part 2 [SMUT] || Reiner Braun

Summary: You get to see Reiner again after he ran away.

TW: angst, oral sex, penetration, creampie, a bit of size kink. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warning: there may be spelling errors as well as syntax errors as English is not my first language.

It had not been difficult for you to infiltrate the warriors' residence. With a good disguise and knowing the hours of training so that Pieck or Zeke would recognise you, you had managed to get to Reiner's room, just as Gabi and Falco had told you. Being very careful not to let anyone see you enter, you entered the room, unsure if it was really his room.

It smelled like him. There was no doubt now, this was Reiner's room.

The curtains were drawn almost all the way back, turning the room into a kind of cave with a single ray of sunlight that allowed you to see the few objects clearly.

Insecurities crept over you as you examined the room. What would he think when he saw you? It was he who left, it was he who left you. What if he wasn't happy to see you? What if he didn't want you to go there yet? You tried to calm down and not cry, but it didn't work, you let yourself fall into the bed that was his every night. You hugged your pillow and started to cry, what if he had met someone else? Someone from Marley, someone from the same world as his. You felt the walls getting smaller and smaller. And what if someone else came in and you were found out? "I shouldn't have come here, I'd better go home. You sat up, determined to run away, but as you lifted your head from the pillow you heard a crunch. There was something underneath. Your heart was pounding again. You turned your head and saw a piece of paper sticking out. You tugged uneasily, you had to know what it was, but you also needed to run away.

You saw yourself sleeping in one of the Survey Cops' beds. You always thought it was a lie, just another joke, but it wasn't, he drew you one night after showing you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were sleeping. He wanted to freeze that moment to take you with him, because he knew that when the time came you would have to let him go. The paper was beginning to look worn and the charcoal was a bit smudged by the touch. Reiner hadn't forgotten you either.

You couldn't believe it, it hadn't all been in vain. It could be that there was hope in the end. You were in shock, you didn't know what to do, but you were still holding the paper in your hands when you heard a hoarse voice in the corridor "See you tomorrow". But you didn't care, you kept looking at the drawing, you were completely foreshortened, with your back to him so that it showed your shoulder and your bare back just behind the middle of your sleeping face, it was so angelic that it could only be the work of a man in love.

The door opened and you looked up. A tall, very strong and muscular man walked in. You couldn't tell if it was him or not. His facial features were much more pronounced than your Reiner's, and he had a beard.

He stared at you with an astonished look on his face but without articulating a word. He closed the door behind him and locked it, still looking at you. The drawing trembled in your hands and you put it down on the table next to the bed, looking at him.

"Y/N" you managed to say with a trembling voice. "I, I am -". You noticed how his eyes began to glaze over as his breathing became agitated. You stood up to him, he had changed so much... He wasn't the tough 17 year old you had fallen in love with, and he wasn't the 21 year old you had let go either. But he was him.

"Rei" you finally managed to say when you were only a couple of steps away from him. He collapsed, unable to hold back the tears as you took his cheek in your hand, brushing your big thumb against it. "Rei, it's all the same, it's all right. He hugged you so tightly that you could barely breathe, your head was trapped between his chest muscles that were heaving from crying.

"I'm sorry, i'm really sorry" he managed to say as he pulled you even tighter against him. "It's ok Rei, really, I love you anyway" he lowered his head to look at you "I love you too". You held his gaze for a while, he lowered his head even more as you lifted your heels, and after 4 long years you were going to be able to kiss him again.

You could feel your breath mingling with his. You were hungry for him, you embraced his lips with yours in a passionate kiss, it wasn't wild but it wasn't shy either. Your tongues met in a struggle for dominance as your bodies grew closer and closer. Reiner lifted you up and put you against the wall while you wrapped your legs around his torso and put a hand on his neck and kissed him. You wanted to show him how much you missed him. He let out a growl in the middle of the kiss without separating your mouths and mumbled your name and then pressed you tighter against him and the wall. You were starting to feel your panties getting wet from how horny you were. It had been so long since you had felt his warm kisses and his body pressed against yours, you couldn't contain your desire to have him inside you."Fuck, Reiner" you said lowering one of the hands you had on his neck, holding you, towards his toned arms. You moved your hips downward looking for some contact with his member, and found a hard wood beginning to desperately seek your entrance as well. He bit into your neck and made you moan softly. "Let me take care of you, please," he said with his head still nestled in the curve of your neck. You nodded your head before kissing him again and noticed how the large bulge in his trousers throbbed against you.

He moved with you still clinging to him, and before you could sit up in bed you threw the large trench coat on the floor. You began to undress slowly but eagerly, you had spent too much time without each other and wanted to enjoy the moment as much as you could. You unbuttoned Reiner's shirt almost desperately, you wanted that body as much as the first time you touched it. The same thing happened to him, he was left admiring your perky breasts, thinking about how much he wanted to make you his again. He kissed you lovingly and began to caress every inch of your body. Running his hard warrior's hands over your delicate nipples made you moan, and the same happened when he got to your underwear. You wanted to do it yourself, but when you got to his cock he pulled away "No, I'll focus only on you. I owe you. I can wait" and without letting you respond he stroked your clitoris over your panties while he started kissing and biting your tits. Before getting rid of your underwear he ran his middle finger along your slit enjoying how wet he had made you.

He pressed your body against the bed before inserting two of his fingers, and began to move them in and out in rhythm, he remembered well how to make you needy. He stopped to start giving you a fluid rhythm, you felt a knot in your lower stomach and next was his face between your legs. His insatiable lips grabbed your clitoris and kept fingering you. He ran his tongue over every inch of your pussy, licking and sucking, he loved tasting your juices. He didn't mind getting lube all over himself, and he enjoyed like nobody's business as his tongue pushed into you while his nose rubbed your clit mercilessly. Finally focusing on your clitoris again. You gripped his hair tightly and arched your back from the vibrations he produced in your pussy. You moved your hips towards him in a desperate attempt to get more of him. You pulled on his hair to make him look at you "Let me ride you, I want you inside".

He positioned himself between your legs to kiss you, and when he did he grabbed you to position you on top of him. You rubbed yourself all over him, leaving him wet to make it easier for you later. He was stunned to be able to look at your naked body on top of his again and gently bit your right nipple, making you lose the urge to keep teasing him and developing the need for him to break you in two.

You positioned his cock at your entrance, very slowly inserting his member into you and eliciting moans from both of you. Rei, I can't take it, it's too big," he held back a chuckle in the middle of his throat, "you always say that, and then I always get you to take the whole thing," he said hoarsely. He placed a hand on your hip and pressed himself against you, pushing it in little by little as you mixed the pain and pleasure of having it between your legs again. When it was almost all the way in you began to bounce against him, filling your pussy with his big cock and rubbing your swollen clit against his skin. You saw his face turn red, you knew him well and you knew he was going to orgasm soon, so you used your best hip movements as you felt his firm hands holding you. Just when you thought he was about to come, without leaving you he rolled off the bed and changed positions, getting on top of you. He kissed you lovingly before he started pounding your pussy hard. You moaned his name. "Like this?"

"Yes, just like that." You embraced his strong body with your trembling legs, which couldn't hold the excitement much longer.

He moaned your name again, "missed you, missed this...... oh, fuck" watching his big body beg for yours, rubbing against you and hearing him cry out in pleasure along with the sheer physical pleasure Reiner was giving you brought you to orgasm. You screamed his name and scratched his back as he slammed his cock up towards your g-spot over and over and watched how he slid in and out of your wet pussy.

"Sh-shit, Y/N I'm gonna cum... oh FUCK" he said as he loaded you inside.

He stayed still on top of you while you stroked his back. Your shuddering breaths came in rhythm as you tried to regain.

Your shaky breaths came in rhythm as you tried to regain normality. Reiner came out of you and hugged you tightly to his chest before he started crying again.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I was more afraid of what the Marlyans might do to you than I was of being without you." You hugged him tightly "it's not your fault, none of this is your fault, my love."

He cried all night in your arms, but when you managed to sleep, it was the first time in 4 years that you both slept without nightmares or insomnia. You were back home, back with Reiner at last.

The light of dawn peeked through the gap between the curtains and allowed you to see Reiner's titanic, sculpted body. He was all yours. Half asleep he pulled you against him, putting his arm around your waist and placing his hand on your ass. You laughed to yourself and kissed him softly.

But it wasn't all going to be so easy.

"Reiner, you depraved man, let go of that poor girl now. There's a meeting and you're late" said Porco behind the door, and tried to open it "come on, we want to see who it is, we've made bets". Reiner's eyes widened quickly and he looked at you in panic.

How were you supposed to get out of there without being recognised by Cart Titan or Zeke?

You were screwed.

Taglist: @noodlenerd101

[and-there-were-words]

A Spider Life: You don't belong here (Chapter 03)

Taking place after “Sleep Bug” but before “Dumpling Destruction”.

After a successful mission, there was no time for a long rest. Though, Syntax decided that a little bit of a break didn’t hurt anyone. He was foolish to think that Huntsman would let him be at peace. (Wordcount: around 1300)

---

Blue filled the entire main hall of the Silk Web Cave. The looming forms and shades of their new project towering over all. It was certainly odd to watch these new plans of a mech he hadn't designed himself. Something about it struck the scientist as odd, but he wasn't well versed enough in sorcery and ancient artifacts to really know which item was supposed to do what. It didn't help that basically nobody but the little Miss Mystery knew exactly how any of this was going to work.

But they finally did have a more tangible goal. And one more good thing came out of this whole treasure hunt – Syntax had not to do any research where to find said items, since the girl seemed to already know where they were.

As questionable as this was, his Queen did not raise any concerns about this knowledge, so why should he? Instead, he took the opportunity of free time to work on his own projects. He had to overhaul their Spider Base blueprints, repair some of the Spiderbots and… actually. On second thought, after his successful heist into the Cloud, he deserved an evening of rest. Just leaning back a little, kicking up the feet, maybe coding some new games and programs. When he wasn’t working on machines, he still could experiment with them. It was a blessing when one's job was also their hobby.

Walking deeper into the tunnel system of the lair, Syntax found the little niche that he had claimed for himself. Mostly to sleep and keep a few of his more important items safe. Not that he had many, but it still was a comfort to have a little bit of autonomy, away from all those watchful spider eyes. The scientist hummed, and with the lab coat off, he was officially clocked out for the day.

Sleeves were neatly folded up to the elbows, his utility goggles snapped away. Magic was so handy! He lingered for a moment, holding bright green glasses in hands. Syntax wasn’t entirely sure how or why, but he found himself oddly sentimental over them. Even though one of the lenses had a crack. His eyes were perfectly fine too, so anything looked blurry trough them, rendering them practically useless. With a shrug, he put them back into his little box of trinkets, turning around to his personal computer.

…..

There was not really any sense of time within the Silk Web Cave, not that it mattered much. Hours could’ve pass by and the only indicator that the world was still turning, was that his coffee always grew cold way too fast. Running another test for his current code, Syntax frowned as errors popped up where none had been before. He reached for his cup without looking, first confused about something not being right. It took him a few seconds to notice that he was grabbing into thin air. His cup was not at the spot where he placed it anymore.

“What’cha doing?”, a raspy voice required from his other side, making the scientist jerk violently, nearly falling off his chair. A groan escaped Syntax, slightly turning his head to confirm his apprehension. And indeed, it was Huntsman. With his coffee mug in hands. It was bothersome how he always managed to sneak up unnoticed and seemingly appear out of nowhere. The other spider was not even looking at him directly, just watching the screen displaying an endless amounts of lines with mock interest. It was clear that the hunter had no idea what he was looking at, and Syntax knew that trying to explain any of this to him would be wasted breath. Still, he thought himself better than that.

“Optimizing the behavioral pattern of the Spiderbots. So next time we can spread the Queen’s venom faster.”, he left it at that, starting to tip away on the keyboard again.

“Uh-hu.”, the spider demon mused, but it was clear that this wasn't the focus of his attention at the moment. Instead, he just sniffed at the drink in his hand, nose curling up a little. “...I have no idea how you’re capable of drinking this stuff. Gross.” And with that, the cup was back on the table within Syntax’s reach, but the scientist didn’t dare to touch it. This was obviously a trap, both of them knew. Huntsman never had been subtle about waiting for the other to make a misstep. Syntax wasn't sure what the taller man hoped to achieve, but there was a bitter taste at the back of his throat with how he was watched by this particular spider demon.

Tension filled the room, making the air as thick as butter, as both men were just analyzing each other carefully. It almost felt like a game of chess, one that Syntax didn’t like at all, being forced to play so damn defensively. He still wasn’t sure what he did to upset the hunter, but he clearly was out for his neck in some way or another. It was Huntsman who broke the silence, and to no one's surprise, he just unceremoniously kicked down the metaphorical door.

"You don't belong here.", the spider rasped, stalking awfully close, only to loom over the sitting scientist. Green eyes glimmering in the twilight of the cave, mostly illuminated by just the cold light of the computer screen. Syntax could only swallow, feeling caged like a prey animal under this intense glare.

"You're a disgrace to the clan, human.", the hunter continued his venomous words, "Do you really think you're important to the Queen? Nothing but just a tool, once you've done your purpose, you will be nothing but dinner." The demon cackled, and Syntax could feel his body going into a panic mode. Yet, his mind was still clear, rational. The buzzing crawling up his spine keeping him grounded.

Syntax simply clicked his tongue in a (what he hoped to come off as) unimpressed tsk. "Is that all? I am busy, Huntsman.", he was not going to give in that easily, even though the words were cutting deep, slicing into something that the scientist hadn't even been aware of himself yet.

The hunting spider frowned, letting out a soft growl. Only to grab the coffee mug again, giving it another glance. Apparently, he came to a conclusion in this moment. "You'll never be one of us, freak.", the second that followed felt like an eternity, before ceramic shattered into hundreds of pieces, cold coffee splattering all over the floor. A pang of some emotion shot through Syntax's chest, watching the mess on the ground. Somehow managing to not show a glimpse of this storm of feelings on the outside.

Huntsman almost seemed disappointed, but a breath later, he was showing off fangs in his ugly grin again. A hand reaching for the communicator in his ear as he was surely contacted by the Miss. "Now, this was fun and all.", he mused, crossing arms behind his back as he twirled towards the exit. "It seems that my special skills are needed once again. So long, cyberbug." With that, the hunter was gone, leaving the scientist finally alone.

So much for that rest, Syntax thought bitterly to himself, still staring at the floor. This evening or night had been ruined in every way possible. Now trying to make sense of why his limbs felt so cold and stiff, why his heart was beating in the rhythm of a scared animal while also screaming in anger. His hands clenched into fists, short nails digging into soft palms. Syntax knew all of this already. Knew that this wasn't his place, that he wasn't like the other spider demons. But he was part of this clan, and by the Queen's pride… he will prove that he was a better henchman than Huntsman could ever dream to be.

[painandpleasure86]

Getting inside the groove

This a fic that I wrote for @warriorteam1924 . She loves Hot Space and she's a bassist, so I tried to write how I imagine it was some of the creative process of Cool Cat. <3 I hope not only Katie, but also all of you can enjoy this little fic I wrote. Be aware that it could have grammar/syntax errors because English isn't my first language.

Also you can notice a little reference of a real audio of them in studio, I hope you can find it! ;)

This fic features John and Freddie in Musicland Studios, special participation of Reinhold Mack and the rest of the boys.

Word count: 1080.

Warnings: no one, this is soft.

Taglist: Katie, @toomuchlove-willkillyou @deakysgurl @0-primejive-0

1981. John was there, recording an album with he was not pleased of, but he was a damn professional and did his job smoothly. Until it was the time when he wanted to show to Freddie something. That idea was an idea which he wasn’t pleased completely and it wasn’t finished, but perhaps his dear bandmate could help in that process. Another time his doubts were revisiting his mind and also the “I’m not capable to do it”, “I’m not capable at all!” or “This isn’t my fucking gift!” were present, trying to low his mood.

John and Freddie were alone in Musicland Studios, or at least in the recording place itself. John was reading and re-reading the sheet of paper in the controls room, trying to complete by himself before to show it. He sighed frustrated.

“It’s better of this way” he thought, contemplating the paper with incomplete lyrics. He approached to Freddie, that was smoking a cigarette next to him.

-Freddie, I have an idea for a song… well…

The singer saw his friend’s face and could decode what he tried to say.

-I got it, honey -Freddie said, watching to his friend’s eyes.- Show me what you got, please.

John extended the sheet of paper with the unfinished lyrics of a song.

-It’s unfinished… it’s what I wanted to say to you before -John said, meanwhile his friend was inspecting the piece of paper.

-As I imagined -Freddie replied, raising his sight to his friend’s eyes- Isn’t a problem that I couldn’t resolve, darling- He stood up of his chair, turned off his cigarette, and he started to looking for a pencil.

John couldn’t help, but smile relieved.

-You have something really good actually! -Freddie exclaimed, emphasizing the word “really”, when he finally found a pencil.

John’s smile was bigger and his cheeks flushed. His eye wrinkles were emphasizing the brightness of his smile.

-You know that’s not my gift, Fred -John said, still smiling.

-Bollocks, your process it’s just slower, that’s all! Plus you cannot say that isn’t your gift after a success like Another One Bites the Dust ! That was a song by you, and you know how much we needed to convince to the other two because it wasn’t very rock-ish. -Freddie said, now sitting in a couch near of the coffee table of the room.

Lots of mixed memories popped up in John’s mind from that time, but overall he continued smiling because his friend accepted to help him. John sat next to Freddie to contemplate him filling the gaps, scratching and writing again, to stop to think and analyze about which words would fit better.

After some minutes of respectful silence, John broke it.

-I have a bassline if you’re interested.

-I’m eager to know how this sounds -Freddie replied, standing up of the couch, emphasizing the word “eager”.

Both gone to the recording area with the paper and the pencil. John was way more motivated with his new song.

John was sat with his bass, Freddie stayed stood up in front of his friend.

-Well, I thought this like the main bassline of the song… -and John proceeded to play the main bassline of his new song.

Freddie couldn’t help it but start to sing the song, reading the lyrics from the sheet of paper.

-"You’re taking all the suuunshine away…"- Freddie sung, but he stopped suddenly- Am I singing this like you imagined?

John stopped to play.

-Yes Freddie -John replied, smiling- a bit higher would be nice, but... I don’t know if your vocal range can reach that note now that you smoke.

-Remember that I can use falsetto.

John opened his gray eyes surprised, intrigued to listen more Freddie in falsetto. He listened to him doing falsetto in The Kiss recently, but not in a song by him. John always told that Freddie was his voice, so he was excited to listen “his” voice in his new song.

-Let’s start again, but full falsetto, yes?

-Yes!

John started to play the bass.

-Now! -John said softly, some seconds later.

-"You're taking all the sunshine away, making out like you're the main line… I knew that".

John smiled a lot.

-“‘Cause you’re a cool cat, taping on the toe with a new hat… Oh, just cruising, driving along like the swing king… feeling the beating of my heart…”

John cannot feel better. Joy flowed through his veins and his face irradiated joy. Freddie could see this reaction and he continued and continued singing the song, despite it wasn’t finished. Both gone with the flow.

“And you really get inside the move”. John made a slide in his bass. “And you really…” John made a little arrangement. “...get inside the groove”. Another arrangement. Those little arrangements weren’t on his John’s mind before, he created them in the precise moment that Freddie sung the song.

Freddie just opened his eyes wider. His friend never stopped to amaze him with his talent.

They ended the session, the first version of the song has born.

-How was that?

-Oh, it was lovely!! Wonderful!!

John cannot help but smile wider.

-Thanks Freddie -

-Your idea of sing it in falsetto it was really good. It fits with the song, by the way. Believe a bit more in yourself, John -Freddie said, putting his hand in the right shoulder of John and watching directly to his friend's eyes.

-Okie… by the way, the song has born playing the guitar some days ago…

-I wanna listen you in the guitar too! -Freddie exclaimed.

John smiled and left his bass, to go where it was laying his Telecaster and play along with Freddie.

At the middle of that jam, where Freddie was trying to play with the piano the same chords as John in his guitar, his friends and the producer came back from the near bar and they watched to John and Freddie having fun. They left to the duo to end their moment.

-Do you wanna talk more about that song? Sounds so nice John, so you. It was another song from you? -Mack asked, since the opened door of the control room.

-Yes -John and Freddie replied at the same time.

-Well… Freddie and mine. Freddie helped me- John confessed.

-The main credits goes to him.

-But you also helped me and added the piano! -John added.

Mack and the guys couldn’t help but smile because of this moment. That friendship, perhaps it was just “work” friendship, but it was pure and genuine, and that what it worth it.

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[danni-dollarsign]

HEY here’s Danni yet again ranting about writing bc all I ever do is read books on writing and stare at my WIPS and cry. I’m gonna ramble a bit on word choice and how I personally like to go about that, since I keep running into “USE THESE WORDS INSTEAD” posts and wanted to deposit my thoughts to anyone particularly interested in ‘em. 

Ok, so a lot of times I come across those Tumblr posts that are like “Use any of these words other than this general one in your writing!” and I legit always look at the list of “synonyms” and about half of those words do not have close enough definitions to be used interchangeably. Words used irresponsibly can result in just as much dissonance as bland/basic word choice, so nothing is gained. But as a pretentious, flowery writer who loves romantic and poetic prose, I can’t deny the importance of varying word choice. So, what do we do? If these posts give the impression of simply listing the synonyms list of commonly used words that I can’t just switch out easily, how can I change my word choice to keep the flow and avoid stagnancy?

Allow me to offer a pretty boring but still important standard for your consideration: Try to refrain from switching up word choice just for the sake of switching up word choice.

It’s definitely good to incorporate a wide vocabulary in your writing, not just to retain the interest of your readers, but also fosters language development and comprehension skills for yourself! But at the end of the day, if you’re looking up synonyms for a word and none of their definitions really fit the idea you’re going for, then you’ve already got the perfect word. Use language deliberately, and use it well.

BUT!!! What if you still want to vary verbiage, but your story’s context/scene are making you feel trapped in a specific realm of generic words. Here’s another one that I almost always use in my stuff -- and it’s Re-thinking your scene to generate more evocative language. 

This strategy is sometimes disguised as that whole “Change your Setting” tip you might come across in writing advice forums. But if your story’s setting needs to be specific and cannot be changed, then definitely I recommend this instead. 

Sometimes, the scene I have in my head, the way my characters interact with the plot and each other -- there are only so many words befitting of those strict and specific instances. So, I re-imagine the scene -- not so much the weather or setting, but more figuratively speaking. I imagine myself some dwinky little director man, changing the lighting, re-writing possible dialogue, re-thinking character presentation, doing the scene exactly the same except “a little to the left” (lol) -- all for the sake of discovering just what word-choice can really make this scene “pop”. While I don’t have the energy to write it all out (if you do, like wow I envy u sdhgjfg), I already spend a lot of time daydreaming, so this is perfect for those dreamers who already fixate on their storylines. For instance, changing the “lighting” of a scene can affect the tone, thus changing what syntax structure I want to use; a scene I might cast in blue, somber colors might employ more poetic, gothic writing, words more pertaining to heart-wrenching emotions that reverberate like cathedral bells in the ribcage. Or, that same scene cast in summery daylight of orange and yellow can demonstrate more vitality, naive and seemingly eternal, leaving a brightness in your smile and a twinkle in your eyes. See what I did there? Get a little silly with it - Hell, sometimes when I make that figurative lighting ironic, contrasting like a sad scene with a “happy” tone, it evokes a strange emotion seldom realized in life, but somehow so exceedingly real that it tends to become my more favorite scenes in a fic. While these can be very trial-and-error and might not come across the way you hoped with your readers the first few times, it’s always worth trying if you find it particularly fun.

Right. So we’re still left with that initial question of how can I vary my writing without simply switching up words used in a synonym list?

Well, first, please always look at the definitions of each of those “synonyms”. While, yeah, they are definitely synonyms, but there’s a reason why they’re separate words. Always have confidence that the words you’re using are the best words you can be using in a scene (or at least pretend to have confidence, since literally that’s me everyday of my life). Get friendly with online dictionaries (personally I like online the best bc they’re databases and therefore update a bit easier than a traditional print dictionary). If you’re feeling spicy, seek out a word’s historical usage - sometimes, it can give an extra dimension of POP that can sometimes feel like an Easter egg for readers and rewards those who either seek out that information or already know it. 

For the record, I’m very much an “emotional” writer. I like passionate language, words that particularly strike a chord with me. Your story may not play well with this advice, so disclaimer hgfhggfh - BUT certainly there is plenty reason to beware of just spamming “Find & Replace” all your common words to try and sound better in your writing. Seek out those who’s writing resonates with you. Seek out references and support. Curate your learning experiences so that your writing skills evolve in the best way they can in your amazing care. Certainly don’t just listen to me - try new things, see what works and what doesn’t, and proceed from there. But like, seriously, let’s move on from the whole “said is dead” propaganda - educate, don’t replicate.

[starlight-drive-in]

Catching Feelings Ch. 2 Seven/MC College AU

Awhile ago I was requested by @navarr0landia write a continuation of my College AU I started during Saeyoung week this year (which I was low key looking for the extra push to do anyway so thanks!) 

So here it is! Part 2 of what I am now calling Catching Feelings: 

AO3 Link  (Check here for warning/tags)

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The shrill sound of MC's alarm pierces through her slumber bringing her to consciousness, much to her dismay.

"Ughhh." She groans as the full weight of her headache is realized as soon as she moves to tap the snooze button on her phone. She groans again, smothering her face into the pillow desperate to sink back into sleep. There are no hangovers in dreamland.

Of course exactly 10 minutes later - BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

This time MC doesn't mess around with the snooze button, it's too early and her head hurts way too much for this right now, her morning class is just not going to happen. She grasps desperately at sleep again.

She's not sure how much later it is but begins to hear Mei rustle around the room, getting ready for class and then the light turns on. MC groans again and pulls and blankets up over her head in protest.

"How are you feeling there, Sunshine?" Her roommate asks.

"Mmmm" MC groans miserably in response. "Why did I let you take me to a party on a weeknight?"

Her roommate laughs quietly. "You should be thanking me."

"For what?!" MC asks incredulously.

"You seriously don't remember? Maaaaybe you should check your phone that's been going off for the past hour." Mei says before the bathroom door clicks closed.

Why? MC thinks in response pulling her phone off her nightstand and under her little blanket tent.  It's not like anyone ever texts…me? She thinks as she sees seven new messages from "Saeyoung (Crazy Cat Guy)"

"Oh, shit." She mutters as memories from the night before - as well as a healthy dose of embarrassment - flood in. Parts of the night are definitely blurry in her mind. She remembers the bathroom and Seven/Saeyoung with the cat. And his eyes. Oh my god, his eyes, and that smile. Her heart clenches at the thought of him. This isn’t good, It’s been less than 24 hours and she’s already in deep.

Bits and pieces of their conversation float through her head but she can’t seem to grasp the entirety of it. Ugh. Why did she have so many of those... whatever they weres? What did she say to him? She desperately hopes nothing too bad. It couldn't have been anything too bad if he was texting her right? Unless it was that bad and he was telling her how weird she was. Calm down MC, calm down. Just unlock your phone and read the messages, you can do it.  

She takes a deep breath and bites her lip, entering her lock code. Her screen brightens, making her headache more apparent, but revealing the messages to her.

Saeyoung (9:09am): PSHHT This is ground control to Astronaut MC, do you read me?

Saeyoung (9:25am): PSHHT I repeat. MC, do you read me?

Saeyoung (10:07am): lolol I really hope you don't have a morning class

Saeyoung (10:11am): How are you feeling, Little Kitty?

Saeyoung (10:15am): >.< Was that weird? Sorry that was probably weird

Saeyoung (10:20am): Please let Seveny know you are still alive when you can

Saeyoung (10:30am): I‘m in class now but Secret Agent 707 might have to go on a rescue mission afterward if he doesn't hear back from you ^^’

MC’s face heats up a few degrees as she reads the messages He’s worried about me! Her heart leaps again as she thinks over how to respond to him as quickly as possible.

--

Seven bobs his leg up and down nervously as he sits in his back corner seat of the Comp Sci lab, not hearing anything his teacher is saying about compilation errors. He unlocks his phone for the third time in less than a minute and stares at the notification bar. Was he too forward? Too weird? She didn't seem to mind is weirdness too much last night but maybe that was because she was drunk? Or maybe something’s actually wrong, what if she had alcohol poisoning? Was she hurt, or was she just ignoring him? He didn't like either of those options frankly.

“Luciel?” He hears his teacher's voice pierces through his mind’s paranoid circling.

“Can you tell me why this code isn’t compiling correctly? Tell me where the error is.” His teacher looks at him pointedly, obviously trying to catch him off guard.

“Uhhhh” He stalls, scanning the code on the board. “You have a syntax error on line 23.”

His teacher - Mr. Vanderwood, seems a little disappointed he can’t reprimand him, “That's cor-”

“And 47.” Seven adds.

“Wait, what?” Mr. Vanderwood says incredulously scanning the code himself. “You’re right… uhh thanks, I guess”

“No probs Ms. Vanderwood.” Seven replies casually.

“It’s Mr. Vanderwood, Luciel.”

“Right, right, won't happen again Vandy!” the class collectively giggles at the interaction that's quite common amongst the two

“LUCIEL!”

“Ah hahaha sorry!” Seven cowers, shutting up.

His teacher stares at him a moment longer before continuing, “The next type of error you may have is a runtime error, a runtime error occurs when….” - and just like that Seven has checked out and is back to his phone again, and he has two new messages! He fumbles a bit in his excitement but manages to get his phone unlocked.

MC (Q-T-π): Hey! Sorry for making you worry! I just woke up.

MC (Q-T-π): And if it wasn't weird I’d be worried it wasn't you I was talking to, but that doesn’t mean I didn't like it. :)

She doesn't hate him! She thanked him! Thank God. He impulsively grasps the cross around his neck in victory. She used a smile emoji! Does that mean he made her smile? Oh, he really hopes so!

He looks rapidly around the room. Realizing Vanderwood is busy helping someone else he quickly types out a reply.

Saeyoung: She lives! :D Seven can breathe again. How do you feel?

--

MC seats herself up in bed and manages to get at least her feet off the bed before she's alerted to another message, her stomach responds with a small flourish of butterflies. Wow, he's fast. She thinks, smiling and reading his reply.

--

Seven watches his screen faithfully for her next message.

MC (Q-T-π): Honestly? I feel like death D:

MC (Q-T-π): But talking to you is definitely helping this headache go away.

He can’t help but crack a wide smile.

Saeyoung: Glad to be of assistance!

He can’t just let the conversation die like this though. He has to think of a way to continue it, and that's when an idea hits him.

Saeyoung: I have something else that may help!

MC (Q-T-π): Oh yea, What's that?

Saeyoung: Seven’s magic hangover (and other ailments) cure-aaaaall… Ddddddrumroll plz

MC (Q-T-π): Dum-dum-da-da-da-dum-dum!

Saeyoung: Seven Star Energy Drink!

MC (Q-T-π): You have your own energy drink? :O!

Saeyoung: Uhhhh well, haha

Saeyoung: not officially

Saeyoung: BUT

Saeyoung: I’m sure it will help clear up that nasty hangover! And that’s not all!

Saeyoung: It would be hand-delivered by yours truly :)

He sends the last message and waits with bated breath for a reply.

--

The bathroom door opens and Mei steps out all ready for class and starts getting her things together. MC stares at her phone screen. He wants to come over? She bites her lip and thinks for a minute. She hasn’t even had a shower yet. She groans loudly and throws her head back onto her pillow in defeat, resulting in a powerful reminder of the headache she needs to get rid of.

Mei eyes her peculiar display. “Alright, tell Mei what’s wrong.”

“Seven wants to come over” MC groans.

“So?? That’s great. Shouldn’t you be excited?”

“He wants to bring me something to help my hangover.”

“Aww, and here we all thought he was just crazy. That’s so sweet! I’m still not seeing the issue though unless you don’t actually like him and that was just the drink talking last night?”

“No, no that’s” MC stutters. “That’s not it. It’s just… I look like garbage.” MC replies sitting up again so Mei can see her face, still covered in smudged makeup from the night before.

“Hmm” Mei considers. “High-quality garbage though, like rich people garbage. Ya know?”

“Thanks,” MC replies sarcastically.

“What I mean is, you just gotta clean yourself up a bit and you’ll be fine. Like a million dollar sofa with a stain on it.” Mei says tossing her a bag of makeup wipes, a brush, her foundation and a tube of mascara.

MC wipes her face down, using about 3 wipes to get everything off, and then starts her “low effort” look by pulling her hair into a messy bun with a few loose locks on each side.

Mei ruffles around in MC’s dresser “Annnd you probably want to change.”

MC looks down and realizes she’s still wearing what she borrowed from Mei the night before.  

"How many beige sweaters do you have, Girl?" Mei tosses her a particularly oversized one and a pair of black leggings.

"They're comfy!" MC defends, finally rising herself from her bed to change. "Oh shit. I forgot to answer him!" She adds a second later, frantically pulling her sweater over her head.

"You left that poor boy on read? He probably thinks you hate him now." Mei teases.

"Nooooo!" MC whines fishing her phone out of her covers.

--

Saeyoung leaves class and drives the short distance back to the RFA house, glancing at his phone more frequently than he should. It's been fifteen minutes, she's probably not going to answer. He shouldn't have invited himself over like that.

He walks in the door, no one seems to be home at the moment. He continues up the stairs.

MC (Q-T-π): That would actually be very nice of you, but fair warning I look like a hot mess :/

A sense of relief falls over him, and then excitement and then… nervousness? It's been a while since he's felt that particular emotion.

Saeyoung: I'm sure you look beautiful! :)

Saeyoung: I'll head over as soon and I can get everything together!

MC (Q-T-π): Can't wait :)

He reads her message as he enters his room, flinging his black and yellow backpack onto the small couch and whoops loudly with enthusiasm, jumping up and down in excitement.

"What the fuck?!" Saeran's voice rings out from the other side of the room as he whips around in his desk chair to give his brother one of his trademark glares.

It would seem Seven forgot to check the room for other occupants when he entered. "Oops sorry bro!"

"Yeah, whatever." He says, writing off his brother's little show as one of his typical little displays and going back to his work.

Saeyoung yanks his t-shirt off over his head, and walks over to the shared closet and begins flipping through shirts.  

“Great job with inviting people to the party last night, by the way. A lot of people came out!”

Saeran smirks. “Amazing how many people are willing to go over to a random house because a stranger told them there would be free alcohol.”

“Tell me about it, Jaehee’s totaling the amount now but we should have quite a pretty good amount to donate this time!”

“That’s good, I’ll ask her about it later.” Saeran answers, writing himself a reminder on a post-it and sticking it to his computer screen.

Seven check his teeth in the closet mirror, “We missed you though, where were you last night?” He attempts to pry, knowing his brother is a pretty private person but he hoping maybe he’ll tell him anyway.

“Out” Saeran deadpans, revealing nothing.

“Hmm, ok I won’t bug you about but just be careful ok? I’ve been hearing about some weird cult stuff going on around campus.”

Saeran scoffs. “Cults? Seriously? Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

“Hey, can I borrow this shirt?” Seven asks, holding up a short sleeve, white button-down of Saeran’s. Obviously forgetting his former train of thought.

Saeran tsks in response “Ah, I see you didn’t do your laundry again.”

“I was busy!” Pleeaaasee?” Seven begs.

“Ugh, sure fine whatever, if it even fits you.”

“Thanks! You’re my favorite twin!” Seven shrugs into the shirt it’s a little tight, but manageable.

“That statement makes absolutely no sense, but ok. What are you getting all dressed up for anyway? I haven't seen you make an effort like this since the RFA Christmas Ball.”

“The Defender of Justice, the Mighty Seven-Zero-Seven must deliver much-needed medicine to a pretty lady who has fallen ill!” Seven says dramatically, earning an eye roll from his brother before heading over to the mirror to style his hair the best he can without product. It's still a mess but at least it looks a little neater. He sprays a little cologne on his neck and then checks his breath. “Oof, that’s not gonna work,” He says to himself before looking over at Saeran. “Hey, you got any mints?”

“I always have mints,” Saeran replies tossing him a tin from the generous supply in his desk.

“Bless you, dear brother.” Seven dumps a few in his mouth and cronches on them, making Saeran cringe.

“You’re supposed to let them dissolve ya know.” Saeran grimaces.

“Yea, yea no time gotta go!” Seven turns his backpack upside down and dumps his books and laptop onto the couch before shoving new stuff into his backpack in its place, flinging it onto his back and heading out the door.

Saeran simply rolls his eyes “And don’t fuck up my shirt!” he shouts as he listens to his brother’s footsteps descend the staircase and go out the front door.

[laurasinele]

When Harry met Hamish (a Fictober19 Galahad/Merlin drabble)

Prompt 18: “Secrets? I love secrets!”

Fandom: Kingsman

Tags: Merlin’s real name is Hamish Blackwood, Harry Hart saves him from his abusers, they both love Pride and Prejudice

Warnings: bullying, beating

Ao3

Hamish hated them all the very moment they stepped into Kingsman’s facilities. Cocky, self-absorbed bastards them all, sons of noblemen proud to be somewhere down, deep, deep, down the line of succession to their queen —careful, Hamish, your Scott is showing.

He wasn’t even supposed to be here yet. Merlin was just being a dick. Though it was probably because he was being a smartass. Computer science advanced fast and Merlin was really old, after all. Nevertheless, putting Hamish to train with this particular batch of candidates was a ruthless punishment, certainly disproportionate given that his only crime was pointing out syntax errors in a line of code, or twenty-five.

“Hey, Blackwood! Come join us by the lake!”

They were camping in the forest around the mansion. It was supposed to be a leisure activity, though Hamish knew, as Merlin’s apprentice, that something was supposed to attack them in the next 24 hours, and this brats were thinking about swimming and bullying him instead of keeping alert.

“Nah, thanks. I’m perfectly fine here”.

“Come on”, said little Lord Wilkinson, swim trunks dripping on the book Hamish was reading, yanking him up by the arm. “You are ruining the fun for us”.

Oh, Hamish knew so well where this was going. He resigned to his destiny and calmly took off his glasses and store them in the zipped pocket of his chest. The blurry figures by the lake were encouraging them, and the sun was beginning to set. Four against one with visual disadvantage wasn’t a good prospect. And at least two of them wanted revenge on him for their shameful defeats on the judo matt —young Lord Willoughby— and the fencing court —Sir Harold Louis Everett's son. Now, despite his good training in close combat, Merlin was unarmed and clearly overpowered. The best strategy was observe and wait for his chance to flee. Except it never came. 

The three little Lords and pompous young Mr Everett, grabbed him each by one limb and threw him into the lake like a dead body, at about ten feet from the shore. Hamish tried to reign his body in and fall as painlessly as possible. He planned on holding his breath to his own 2 minutes, 57 seconds record and swim to the opposite shore, but halas, they had other plans for him. Willoughby lifted him out of the water and over his head like a prize, one hand in the small of his back and the other grabbing the back of the collar of his jumper.

“I’ve got a fish! I’ve got a fish with my own bare hands!”

“It’s the ugliest and skinniest fish I’ve ever seen, Willoughby!”, yelled young Lord Bartholomew from the shore. Everett and Wilkinson laughed out loud and Willoughby started to walk them out of the lake. Then Hamish saw his chance. Willoughby’s arms started to tremble with the effort and his walk through the greenish lake water affected negatively his balance. Hamish kicked Willoughby’s shoulder, making his captor drop him on top of his own head, thus losing grip of his other subjection point and sending them both underwater as his knees yielded to the sudden change of weight distribution. Hamish set off towards the opposite shore but the noblemen teamed up to grab his legs and drag him to the camp, his head hitting all the rocks they could find on the way. 

“Look at this fucking peasant”, said Bartholomew as he kicked Hamish’s ribbs. Except with all the excitement of a hunt, his childhood speech problems came back momentarily, making him pronounce instead “pucking pheasant”, to which Hamish laughed feebly.

“A packing pheasant? Why would it be packing? They’re not a migratory species”, he said falteringly.

At the insult of their self-appointed leader by virtue of his net worth, the others started kicking his sides too.

“What a terrible accident, Blackwood! You decided to climb a tree and fell down into the lake, didn’t you? That’s a great explanation for your wounds”, provided Everett, eager to be accepted by the lords 

“Nobody has to know the truth”, added Wilkinson. “It would be disgraceful if they knew a senior trainee was beaten up by his juniors. It will be our secret”.

“A secret? I love secrets”

Hamish did not recognise the man’s voice, but he did not have much time to wonder if he was friend or foe because he unleashed hell in the blink of an eye. Not surrounded anymore, Hamish rose and limped to sit on the log he’d been occupying before his abduction. He reached for his glasses, but the lenses were wet and his clothes were of no use to wipe them off. Across him there was obviously a fight going on, but he could only make out a swirl the color of the candidate’s jumpsuit, and three pale forms being thoroughly beaten, shaken and dragged across the floor by it.

“Now, gentlemen”, said the swirl after a second or two of none of the noblemen trying to go for him. “I believe it was the founder of the famous Eton School in which you lot undoubtedly met and birthed this beautiful camaraderie, who said ‘Manners maketh man’. As proud Eton alumni, I am sure you want to honor that saying. But I also know that human nature is fickle and pride might be a hindrance more than an aide in this instance. That is why I give you two options: either apologise to Mister Blackwood here, or fuck off this grounds before I get sick of your disgusting entitled faces”.

The water on the glasses was clearing off, giving Hamish the chance to watch four wet and humiliated candidates to enter the service scramble up and run away to the mansion, thus extinguishing their chances to become a Kingsman agent. 

His savior —come on, Hamish, you are no damsel in distress—, his benefactor, turned to face him. He looked much younger than his prowess had suggested. He offered Hamish his hand, although Hamish’s was wet and muddy. 

“Sergeant Harold Hart”

“Pleasure”, said Hamish, shaking his hand. “I am Hamish Blackwood, Merlin’s trainee”.

“I know. Merlin sent me, I’m his candidate. He suspected you’d be in trouble”.

Hamish huffed, not sure if he wanted to laugh or curse, and shook his head. He looked at Hart, who was looking at him with an amiable, non-comitant smile.

“Thank you for your service, Sergeant Hart”, Hart nodded, and turned his head to look at the three miserable figures half running in the distance, probably starting to feel the cold of the dusk. His smile widened. Hamish shook himself out of watching his rescuer — again? Control yourself, Hamish, for fuck’s sake—, adjusted his glasses and picked up his book. The cover sleeve read “Basic guide to programming”. 

“It wasn’t the founder of Eton”.

“Pardon?”, said Hart looking back at him.

“Manners maketh man. It was one of Eton Headmaster’s who wrote it in a book of proverbs and sayings. He took it from Winchester’s School motto”, explained Hamish, making a point to not look at Hart for the whole evening, least his chest would explode. 

Hart’s expression was completely neutral, and Hamish had already failed in his resolution. He tried not to skirm under Hart’s scrutiny, and then Hart smiled widely, this time, somehow, more sincerely, and said:

“Well, thank you for that bit of trivia, Blackwood. Let me repay you with an advise. I fou are going to hide what you are reading, choose a plausible cover. Nobody would believe someone with your level in computer science would be reading a basic programming guide. What is it, actually?”

“Pride and Prejudice”, mumbled Hamish.

“Lovely book. I always identified with Darcy when I was younger, now I guess it was pretentious of me”

“Not at all”, said Hamish before he could catch himself. 

They both shared a look. It was the kind of look that films used to tell you those two characters were sharing a moment of mutual understanding and admiration, which could later evolve in a much more closer connection and intimate feeling. They both independently realised it was that kind of look, and they both self-indulged in it a few more seconds. Then Hamish huffed a small laugh again. 

“I lost count on how many times I read it. It’s my comfort book for when I’m sick or feeling down”

Hamish smiled and nodded.

“I lost my third copy some months ago, in the burning of my barracks. I wanted to get a new one before coming here, but Merlin didn’t give me the time”. Hamish’s heart swelled.

“I could lend you mine”.

“No, then you wouldn’t be able to read it”.

“We could read it together. I was just starting when they pulled me to the lake”, that was a big fat lie, and he knew it, and he was pretty sure Hart knew it. But Hart’s face lit up, He got up and brought a blanket. He wrapped it around Hamish wordlessly, and then set a fire. He sat back next to him and, after a while, he said. 

“Well, go on. There’s not much light left, and they’re coming to pick us up anytime soon, after the boys get to the mansion complaining”.

Hamish smiled, showing his crooked teeth and began to read.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man…”

[saizoswifey]

Hi there! In one of your translations of Saizo’s act 2, shortly after Momochi asks teen Saizo if he would’ve killed his best friend if he knew the real betrayal reasons, the jp version said he wouldn’t. But the English version, it said he would. Do you know if this change was on purpose?

Hey dear! 

Okay, this is so interesting and I’m super glad you brought it up because I’ve actually been thinking about this so much since reading the EN route. 

That’s right. I’m back at it again with another god damn Saizo lecture broken down with bullet points and long comparisons like I'm teaching a friggin college course on the man hahah strap on in for some more Professor Wifey’s Saizology. 

So I don’t have any SS of this scene from Tenka unfortunately. So I can’t even double check to see what it says. That post you are referring to was based on translations I had done almost 2 years ago and logged away in my google drive. And regarding your question, there are some explanations as to why. 

The first is that I could have mistranslated that line. (it’s happened to me before! It will definitely happen again! pfft) I remember Momochi being a bit difficult for me to understand in some parts and I specifically remember going over and over those 3-4 slides in particular because it was such an important part and also because the way he (dingle bells) speaks and refers to people was odd and new to me so I was trying to grasp exactly what was being said about whom. 

If I mistranslated, it’s because of the wording he uses. To me, it truly sounded like ‘if you knew about it would you have listened to me?’ and Saizo said ‘no.’ The syntax is wonky to me.

And to me, it made sense in the end that Saizo wouldn’t have followed orders had he known. That would have been proof of his heart...The thing Momochi was trying to kill? I mean, if Saizo would have just killed Sanochika for any reason just because Momochi said to, then...why would Momochi need to go through all of the trouble with this plan? It’s so extra why wouldn’t he have just been like yeahhh Saizo you guys are getting too close you need to end him he’s weak and therefore weakening you. And according to the English version, Saizo says he’d just agree and do it. Sooooo....idk man. I’m glad you mentioned it because as I read in English I was also saying wait, what?? when that happened. Then my mind went into overdrive haha. 

If I WAS correct, (and I’m not holding my breath but hey, for 2yrs ago I think I got everything else pretty spot on aside from the fancy localization and tweaks they do to make it read smoother, so I'm not going to doubt myself too much haha!) then basically we have two sort of different versions of Saizo, honestly. 

That scene as I said was pretty damn important to building who Saizo is, where he was and how much he’s changed since then. Both are pretty impactful either which way you look at it, I guess. 

The Saizo that said No (JP)

would establish a Saizo that abides by the policy and moral code that he won’t just go around killing people for no reason. *(And sidenote buuuut: he’s stated in several other stories that he has a policy against killing people for any type of reason other than to fulfill his orders from Iga.)

would establish that although he will not enjoy having to end someone emotionally close to him, it’s not against his moral code and his intense loyalty to Iga will outweigh any other justification for not doing it (not killing, that is)

would establish that he’s always had a heart and morals but the chains of Iga were the last thing keeping him from fulfilling a life of no bloodshed

would establish that therefore the most difficult thing to overcome would be to finally break the bonds with Momochi, the person he trusted implicitly at one time, the person he had been devoted to and blindly followed orders from for his entire life. 

would establish that it was more focused on Saizo’s personal journey to break this way of life he had always entrusted and fell back on as a fail safe. In a sense, he could always hide behind Iga and not take responsibility for his actions. This was him finally taking responsibility for what he had done, deciding he did not want to use Iga as a scapegoat anymore, he did not want to continue taking lives on command, and therefore he had to face them and seize control back. 

The Saizo that said Yes (EN) 

(I also want to highlight here that the answer Saizo gives in English is that he would “more than likely obey.” Not a 100% yes. Saizo is the type to try and deny the humanity in him until he gets up to that moment and time and time again he ends up acting with humanity instead of the way he had predicted he would handle it. He struggled like hell even thinking he was guilty. We will never know canonically, so I will let you form your own opinions on what you think he would have done! )

would establish that Saizo has almost no moral code or policy to speak of. He will follow orders regardless and will kill even his best friend if told that’s what he needs to do. 

would establish that despite being obviously traumatized by what he had done to Sanochika, in almost any other instance it's not a case of moral grappling but rather just killing as a means to an end, no matter who or what circumstances. There’s less thought process involved. It’s detached.  

would establish that if this is the case, Saizo’s biggest obstacle is, in fact, himself, not Iga. 

would establish and imply that BECAUSE he has gone through life not really bothered by the way he lives, ONLY haunted by that one single incident, that the main focus of Saizo’s personal journey has not been about how devoted to Iga he is and how difficult it is to break free. His personal journey’s actual main focus has been about him learning to appreciate life (INCLUDING his own) and trying to overcome his own thought process to see the world in a new way. To grapple with the way he sees himself after MC helps him discover his moral compass. Grapple with the ways in which he starts to change, and the fact that he doesn’t understand the way his mind and heart work now. 

would establish that it’s not Iga that Saizo needed to be rid of in the end. He could have always left Iga, if he really wanted to. He had Yukimura!, and later and for a while, he had MC too. It was Saizo’s old self that he needed to defeat. Momochi manipulated him, terribly, but it wasn’t until Saizo was tired of being complacent in his own way of life that he was able to change it all for good. And he truly needed MC and Yukimura for that. 

And lastly, I believe these two versions of Saizo are actually synonymous, they’re the same Saizo. All of these aspects are present in this character that we read in event stories and main routes. Which is why I enjoy him so much. The layers are incredible. 

However, the ‘why’ on the importance of this line, then, is because of the fact that it comes from how Saizo actually views himself. Whether he said yes or no, that was his own thought on the matter. Which is why it changes his personal conflict/journey and not the character. 

So if they were to change it from one to the other, I think by looking above you can see that the JP Saizo would be a bit more tortured, passive, with a lack of control, an outer conflict he has to resolve. The EN Saizo comes off as more of a gritty character, cold and heartless, an internal struggle focus. Which I guess could be different enough to warrant a change between platforms? Though I really doubt anyone but me would sit here and contemplate all of what you just read, if you just read it. Lol. 

Either way, even if it’s a simple translation error and nothing more, it’s kind of interesting to dive into how one minor change such as that could create such different takes. 

[deviationdivine]

Caustic Salvation (RK900!Prompt Request! w/Connor)

TLDR: Never made to love, he simply destroys to accomplish his mission...

Word Count: 3,381 

TW: Heavy Angst, Pining, Character Death, Allusions to Smut

A/N: Follower/Reader Appreciation Drabble | Prompt: “Did you really think I loved you?” - @your-taxidermy request! This turned into some fierce angst I couldn’t let go and a bit of a triangle. Thanks for participating sweetie! Hope you like! If there’s errors I’ll fix them but I need to post this. I’m actually proud of this one.

“I want to take you somewhere. Private and reserved for no one but us.”

 Affection. 

How you long to hear it pass his cold lips. Molding as a notch in a slot connecting to seal what once burns aflame. Even chilly his kiss retains warmth spreading a righteous inferno. 

If ice can conduct heat then his eyes are a source of comfort. Impenetrable to everyone else around him but hauntingly open to you there is shock in his amiable introduction. It is there. 

Underneath all his stoicism, serious facade beats a heart of a man. To you he has a heart, a tin man who captures yours from the beginning. A man not an android because he is much more. 

You tell him this. He politely if curtly declines small talk. That is how it starts. 

It builds until there is nothing left to hold back. As much as you were close to Connor friendship became the pinnacle between. Nines, however, he opens floodgates and swamps the tender emotion hiding inside. 

Why does a light gather towards darkness? How can something soft coexist with an indurate stone? 

The anchor steadies you. There is serenity in stability. Somehow, you did not think to find such and most of all not with him. However, it happens. Whether it is realized or not, slowly but surely Nines creeps into your lonely life.

“Are you a quiet storm brewing in the substructure of circuits and wires or a gentle breeze fluttering around a crescendo of my heart?”

“I will be whatever you want me to be.” 

  Promises sweet they are a line of life. How delicate in need this fairy tale blooms but all at once it becomes so clear. As a sunny morn bathing the world in light and vanquishing the dark. Yet, still an edge tingles upon mechanical digits twisting your dainty strings. 

Are you merely brittle, shaving off piece by piece carved by your lover’s command? Or simply lost amid constant craving by heart’s demand? 

Your heart sings for those nights stowed away from rest of the world. They are silent. Only sound between two pairs of ears, one far more advanced than the other but equally perked together. 

His kiss is molten. Shivering tempestuous, cradling you for the first time. It is your first moment of intimacy.

Quietly fuming down in the evidence room, attempting to get some extra files looked at and isolation stabbed at you. It was colder in a way. Without anyone to offer company, no husky voice of Connor and crooked goofy smiles to placate this overlong work week.

You assumed you were alone. Then…then you were not.

Nines scared you to death. Quickly recovering it was then the building attraction reacted. Pulled together you were two magnets in the night, metallic energy, sweeping you into strong arms but never crushing.

Instead this kiss crushed you in many ways. It crushed your dream of Connor that will never be. It was never his fault. If you had to be his friend the rest of your life that was enough for you.

RK900 blazed in to sweep you off your feet. Seemingly he had done that, unknowingly you had succumbed to the most terrible plot of all.

  “He is not what he appears, Y/N. Believe me.”

“No. Connor, please! Just stop. Stop…”

  What is wrong with Connor? Why is he acting like this? Now of all the times he could’ve showed some type of interest, he does it after finding out you and Nines are dating.

It hurts. To believe the one boy who never in a million years would do anything to make you unhappy and this happens. Jealousy is not real. He’s only doing this because he’s not the only android detective now.  

That is what you believe. Nines makes sure you do.

“Do not allow the opinions of others to taint what we have, Y/N.” The RK900 spins words of comfort. Craving such affection, he readily offers because it is the greatest benefit for his objective.

“But Nines he doesn’t mean anything.”

Standing up for Connor causes a curious reaction in the superior android. A first blinding sign of software instability…

“Nines?” Quietly gaining his attention, brushing fingers down his chest, the soft sweater rests firmly beneath your touch. He stills with a stroke of palm and tugs you close.

Devouring your mouth, slipping smooth tongue through the warm cavern between parted lips claims you out of spite. As a machine pretending he does not require validity. 

However, there is an urge to lift your body away and ravish every inch. Witnessing Connor’s reaction would please him to no end.

Machines do not feel pleasure. It does not stop his need to taunt the RK800. The idea will bring him great satisfaction. Little does this impeccably advanced model realize in this moment you already begin the spread into his system.

  “What are you doing?” 

“Ending this charade.” 

  Sweetness turns bitter, poisoning both mind and body. This is where your heart dies. Withered away a tainted apple eaten down to its core and burrowing out the other side by a ferocious worm.

Everything is blood, tears and anguish. Bleakest night in a thousand nights as darkness casts over Detroit. Nines is no longer stark white and majestic. He is pitch black and the soul reaver.

“Connor was right,” you whisper regretful. Pain consumes more than is bearable because what once gave so much takes everything away in a snap. 

RK900 does not flinch. Ultimately he discovers no amount of remorse in these actions. This was his plan all along. There is no turning back.

Strewn upon empty warehouse floor, tears cascade in a glistening symphony of despair. Shed for your precious Connor. Shed for the RK800 whose seeming uninterest pushed you into the arms of a white demon, thirium staining jacket, the essence of his target. Murdered in the most horrible place he could have been.

Defunct Cyberlife Tower makes for an ironic location. He led Connor here. The deviant took the bait.

Nothing may be here any longer but that does not mean Cyberlife is gone. They are still operating undercover. He is their agent of stealth moving through shadow, blending with humans as a deviant android. Nothing at all is deviant in him. Even if you tried to cause glitches in his software he is too strong to be fooled.

“Nines! I know you wouldn’t do this!” 

Begging is a pitiful display he ignores. Saccharine protests echo in a hollow tin. No longer full of thousands, androids awaiting release of merchandise, released instead by RK800-51. 

Designated Connor model #313-248-317 came under swift destruction when RK900-87 struck out in his completion. Mission successful flickered in his syntax until a glaring shift took over. Another influx of software instability shudders but not in guilt over accomplishing assassination of Cyberlife’s original prototype. 

Your face blinds following the splatter of thirium. Lodging a bullet in the brain of android you truly love. He knows this. He understands deciphering interactions at the DPD, watching careful for a slip to slither in and compromise.

It is easy. While naivety shrouds the clarity of the RK800’s return in affection for you, RK900 coils into favor. Using the inane lack of confidence in yourself to benefit him, Nines begins a careful tug. Slipping in concern about state of being following late nights at work; Connor would do this. The newer model would watch a private talk between you two, smiles and laughs.

An opening came when Connor is stuck out late with Hank Anderson. Specifically assigned cases to the department’s best in android crime affairs they are out more often. Nines slithers into your orbit, piece by piece planting doubts to the closeness you share with the other android.

After all, Connor does not love you that way. The RK900 hints as much. He purposely inflates your misleading thoughts on the matter. That is how he snares. It is how he begins to get close to that one thing that will give him a clear victory.

Here in the now the handgun aims directly at your head. Ice narrows straight down the barrel as you continue to grovel for him.

“Th-there’s something wrong.” Suggesting quickly it’s the only explanation to this. Maybe there is a virus in his system. It might have altered his perception and changed him in some horrible way.

Is that what Connor meant? No. No, he-he meant something else didn’t he? 

Please. Please, don’t destroy this. This is everything. It was everything. You gave all knowing each outcome may be riddled in hardships. A human-android relationship is difficult in hindsight even whence this all blew over. You thought this before him with Connor. That was only a pipe dream. A beautiful boy like him would never love you but tonight –

It would have worked; no longer running in fear but Nines was not there during. 

The RK900 came after. He is still shunned by those who accepted Connor. Is this why? How can it be an answer when he threatens you? When he-he did this to Connor!

Nines loves you. This is what he spoke softly in nights of passion.

  “Can you love, Nines?”

“I can love you.” 

  “Nines, please,” a gasp shatters composure as everything snaps. 

A bundle of energy expels between two bodies. You scratch nails into his shoulder blades marking synthetic skin for only a short time. The trophies of love will fade but they will never fade from you. 

The android groans barely audible below your ear. Hips lie snugly between your thighs pushed to the hilt amid your warmth. 

Stirring a deep response out of his metal frame, Nines traces fingers along the length of your body. Sweaty beneath him as a pause in the strenuous evening satiates even a race of hearts. 

He feels more against his chest pressing atop yours. A human thrum flutters not quite in sync with his regulator but touching in harmony. Only a sheet of metal covered in liquid, pale skin separates the most machine parts of him from your delicate humanity. Many things are feeble in his eyes. That is how they are made but this-this surges within at an alarming rate. 

As much he will like to stop it is too far along. He is too far into this ruse. The more it sticks to synthetic skin, RK900 loses another edge. Dulling blades and softening him is not part of the plan.

Only the mission matters. He takes you to infiltrate personal space. Staying with you even though he is not required to fall into comfort; pillow talk, as it is called, loosens those lips in detail.

Kissing them now seals another step. Seduction enraptures intricately around your heart. Easily giving over to him because of the love you honestly crave, thought lost in the footsteps of Connor and Nines takes advantage. Nines embraces you sweetly to fill a falsity.

He is sweet only in protocol. Programming himself, pulling upgrades into the equation, drawing him ever closer into the fold of the DPD.

You grant him this proximity. You place the bull’s eye onto his target without knowing.

As you return to slumber this first eve of lovemaking, android lying beside, threading an arm to keep you close for an image desired, RK900 stares blankly into the void. The machinery in his head hypothesizes, constructs steps and analyzes every outcome to fulfilling the mission.

It is then he closes eyes. LED blinks amber before steadying but it is not stasis he falls back to.

  “RK900. Tell me of your status.”

“Things are going remarkably well, Amanda. It is only a matter of time.”

Time does not exist in the zen garden. Unchanged since Connor’s disconnect, blooming anew with a more powerful source. Connection to their highest of upgrades the RK900 breathes this fresh landscape grown over last tendrils of ice from whence RK800 escaped.

He offers shade to Amanda. Hoisting umbrella above to blot out speckles of rain, he moves steadfast beside the petite master program, listening intently as a machine who should obey.

“What about the human?” She asks, intent solely held with the dark opaque of her scrutinizing gaze. “This relationship. Do you feel it is a necessary step in order to complete your mission?”

The android shifts stopping upon the arch curve of bridge. Rain begins pouring heavier in time with his hesitation. 

“It is necessary,” he decides. “I will use this to advance the current stage of my infiltration. The RK800 will be destroyed. As you order, Amanda.”

  “Why did Cyberlife really send you? When the revolution is won?”

“Careful who you question, Connor.”

  Careful eludes his inferior. Nines’ warning seems futile. In the fight it begins equal both RK800 and RK900 locked to the death. It becomes clear even for this android that fakes deviancy, pulls tender threads from your human vessel only to use to get closer. You and the RK800 are close but not in a lover capacity. That is why the newer model inches his way into your pathetic heart. 

It is far too simple. You make his mission easier. After all it is you who ultimately offers inside information on Connor’s schedule. Living a fabricated life in viral disease; he takes every bit from you. 

You are also the reason Lt. Anderson lies in a puddle of his own blood. Another human obstacle who saw fit to suspect RK900 of nefarious means early on his arrival. It did not take long for him to convince Connor. Then he attempted to warn you but of course denial is what you love. As he represents that and more but no machine can love. 

No machine will truly feel. He fakes this but a small spark of pleasure seeps in. Physically from those times playing the perfect lover but also mentally.

Shoving it in the face of the RK800 placates him. It stirs dominance, smug self worth. He enjoys the obvious jealousy that rages behind the deviant android’s eyes.

Perhaps if your pitiful self esteem did not keep you from discovering the obvious love this defective android held for you. Then you may be spared. Only to accomplish to his mission strictly set by his creators. Masters of the artificial intelligence, branding him the most acclaimed and he will never fail.

He did not fail. A tough battle leads to one calculated aim.

Connor fights for you, to protect you from what he knows is to come but his emotion derails him. The original android sent by Cyberlife missteps because of his love, his fear for you.

That is what killed him.

  “I’m so sorry, Connor! I-I love you. I loved you so much.”

“We both know what you really loved. You loved me. A ruthless machine.”

  Everything burns in your vision. Breath stagnant, chest pounding and thirium staining fingers. Where you cradled Connor’s head once discovering his body sprawled upon floor. Shining, echoing in fast paced steps, dropping to knees frantic and searching for a sign. 

Only glassy chocolate bore into the void. A gaping hole trickles eternal blue where his deviant life snuffed from one direct shot. 

Even now fingers latch onto Connor’s jacket. Pulling at him in desperation knowing why he tried to warn you. He did love you. Why couldn’t you see? If you did – things would be so different. Turning back the shades of time is a fantasy because nothing will erase what has come to pass. Nothing will bring this sweet boy back. Connor died a true death. His deviant self is gone and frankly you find yourself gone with him.

Ra9 save his soul. Please, please, please don’t let him fade away. His soul was beautiful. Please!

“Time for tears are over, Y/N.” Nines interrupts your quiet mourning, devastation forcing a tremor in your frame. “Did you really think I loved you? It is time I finish. I am after all the RK900. Faster, stronger, more efficient. I am the android sent by Cyberlife.”

Cyberlife!

You spit on them. Monsters that hide somewhere unknown but this horrible place is a reminder. Connor was here once. He came to free his people. Now he lies dead! Dead in their domain where they bore him out some nightmare laboratory!

Yet, his face is still serene. He can no longer see or smile but nothing will change. Forever a kind, awkward boy who loves dogs; you lean forward to place lips against his cheek, kissing a freckle as the sobs pour over.

Let this be a mercy. As everything falls back to that time of terror before revolution’s end take this villainy away. Allow a bathe into light, the same kind that shone in soft brown eyes. Let it be good when you awake you again. Maybe this time it will be what is right in front. Maybe then Connor will be alive. Even so at what cost? Why? 

“Cyberlife will never win.” 

Strength exudes as you look into the face of the man, no the heartless machine that you stupidly gave your heart to. When all you had to do was look at Connor, his sweet smiles in deviancy, his warmth despite his design to do exactly what Nines is now; Connor became alive. He became sweet and a place to feel safe. 

Friendship began this and there is where it ended. Foolish you never thinking, never dreaming or hoping Connor will see you more. Then it was too late. Far gone this thought and prayer… 

All that remains is a hole in the heart and a desolate stare outwardly to your fate. Raising a chin now brings tear stained streaks, bloodshot eyes onto that face almost identical but harsher, wider and a seal of death. 

“Just do it, Nines!” You scream, fury overtaking sadness, betrayal and heartache. Oh so much you ache. For this so-called love and-and for your sweet Connor. 

“End me,” you plead. “I want to be with him! I just want to be with Connor now.”

Nines’ digits loosen the tiniest of margins on weapon. A sow of doubt in his programming? Fight to retain his machine persona over needles of deviancy, he cannot allow this disease. You are viral. Contagious! 

You-you rather the corpse of a defective cretin over what he is! Filthy deviant! RK900 will not follow footsteps of the RK800. He will do what he failed to do. Amanda will not be disappointed in him! 

“Then go,” the android sneers, LED ablaze in sickening scarlet. “Go and be with your RK800! There is no heaven for androids, Y/N.”

A smile draws the lips upon your face. Smiling in the face of everything torn apart but still you hold even then. 

“Oh, yes there will be,” so sure the breath escapes that it fills you with a final instance of peace. “Because he was alive. He was an angel. And you won’t stop me finding him there.” 

RK900′s facade cracks following the resounding bang of gunshot ending not only your life but contagion. As he lowers the caliber weapon he cannot tear eyes from the still form. Defiant even this truth your life ebbs away but you still find a place to fall, slumped atop Connor’s chest. 

Human and android lying dead, blue and red mixing a palette of violet; the moment everything clears a faint smile remains upon your lips. 

“I’ll be with him, Nines.”

A phantom echo dissolves his stiff posture. Your voice sticks. It is spreading throughout circuitry, buzzing in mockery. In the end there is incompletion to his mission.

The last laugh against what Nines did to you. Happy to die for a deviant!

He digs fingers into his coffee colored hair, attempting to dig, peel synthetic scalp apart and dismantle an urgent transmission of deviancy. Software warnings pop into vision blurring your peaceful position resting eternally upon his predecessor, inferior and obsolete. Yet, it is still enough for you to crave an end to torment to meet him again.

RK900 screams out in this torrent of infection lying dormant since the first time he became one with your human flesh. It rips him apart bringing him down to knees in a static bellow.

Slowly but surely this instability you leave harboring inside like a symbiotic pest will fry the circuits of brain and drive him viciously insane.  

Tag List: @elydith  @your-taxidermy

[reinerslt]

Back to you - Part 1 || Reiner Braun

Summary: You were Reiner's girlfriend in the survey cops. You never stopped loving him, but you discover that Sasha's killer is his cousin. You must protect her and see Reiner again.

Warning: there may be spelling errors as well as syntax errors as English is not my first language.

You stood in thought as the darkness of the night enveloped you. You hadn't had a good night's sleep for a couple of years and sleeplessness had become one of your hallmarks, along with a sulk of disapproval. You were known for being a warm and cheerful person, but since Reiner left, everything had changed. You tossed and turned in bed thinking over and over again about the years you had shared with the one who had caused so many deaths. He appeared every time you tried to rest, in the vastness of the night, repeating over and over again how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

Damn it, Reiner, why couldn't you just ignore your past and stay with me? Why did you have to promise me that we'd see each other again?

You wanted to hate him for lying to you, for abandoning you. You couldn't even be sure he really loved you. How could you know he hadn't used you? You wanted to forget him, and many knew it, Floch and Jean had tried to seduce you on several occasions, but you only responded with a vague look of disapproval. How dare they compare themselves to Reiner? You wanted to hate him, to move on, to make him a vague memory of your wild youth in the Survey Cops. But he was the only one able to get a piece of your heart, and your memories of him are the only thing keeping you sane between battles, wishing the Armored Titan would appear behind the Wall so you could feel him close again.

That week had been deadly. You hadn't gone to Marley because your superiors had forbidden it. On one of your last missions you'd had a mishap with the MDD3D and hurt your shoulder, barely able to move your arm. When Captain Levi informed you that you would not be going, you felt like the world was falling apart, it was your chance to see him again. He promised you, he told you to meet again and the opportunity slipped through your fingers.

You didn't usually talk about Reiner with your classmates, but when the subject came up you acted as if you didn't care that your boyfriend throughout your training, with whom you had shared your best years, was responsible for so much cruelty and death, as if it didn't affect you and as if you hardly knew him. But for the short time that your comrades remained at Marley, you were at the base with a wounded shoulder and a broken heart. You kept wondering if he had been seen, if he had been hurt, would he still remember you? Hundreds of images came back to your head as you tossed and turned in bed, you remembered the first time you saw him, the eye contact holding your sexual tension, the extra workouts to spend time alone, the late night escapades to the supply room to make you his, his sweet lips saying "I love you, Y/N", his hand resting on your waist as you slept. Fuck, Reiner, why did you have to leave me like that? Without you.

You hadn't slept for a few hours when you heard the commotion coming into the base, the Survey Cops were back. You rushed up to try to ask, vaguely and covertly of course, about Reiner and the rest of the mission. "She killed her! This stupid girl killed Sasha!" You stopped dead in your tracks. Sasha was dead? Hundreds of questions ran through your head, but you decided to ignore them and run away. The main hall had become a crazy place, you entered slowly and Mikasa explained everything calmly, she knew it wouldn't be easy for you to cope with another loss, but you kept your cool. The group was divided between those who thought she was a ruthless killer and those who thought she was just a brainwashed child. You didn't seem to care, but you were thinking about how much you would miss the potato girl. You stayed away from the argument, moving to a nearby window and kept your eyes close to the two children lying on the floor of the room. You could feel him close and you looked at the boy, a creature who would tend to be tall in a couple of years, blond and with a lost and hopeless look, from beyond the Walls. His voice brought you out of your thoughts "We are not murderers, really!" He was desperate and on the verge of tears. Poor thing. "We are only warrior candidates, we are not a threat."

Jean cut him off "You intend to inherit titans and you're not a threat? HA!" You could see Sasha's assassin's fists turn white from clenching them, and then she screamed "You're demons!!!" Yes, clearly what she had been told had her absorbed in reality. The boy elbowed her "You idiot, many are trying to defend us" and she snorted. You even found it funny.

"Please, you have to believe us. She was driven by the fury of seeing the city destroyed" cried the boy, you felt sorry for him.

You proceeded to look out of the window, Sasha was gone, you didn't care what happened next. Or so you thought until the captain intervened "what's your name, kid?" Falco - and they went on talking - you weren't interested, you were too absorbed in thinking about who you would tell now how much you missed Reiner. Sasha was the only one you could confide in, she was like a sister to you.

The sound in the room became a blur until suddenly you heard the unimaginable "Gabi... Gabi Braun". Everyone became mute and slowly turned their heads towards you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fixed your gaze on the girl, who looked at you in shock and panic at your reaction. You were gasping for air, you couldn't breathe properly, how was that possible? You slowly approached her and she tried to pull back a little, but before she could do so, you grabbed her arm tightly, causing her to let out a small whimper, and you crouched down next to her. Gabi thought you were going to do something bad to her, you were hurting her, but you looked at her again and the tears in your eyes began to well up uncontrollably. You let go of her arm and knelt down, almost asking for sensitivity for what you were about to ask her "Reiner..." you blurted out in a whisper, causing her eyes to widen in fear "You know him, don't you? Please... please... tell me if he's okay" You looked at her with a pleading face. "Yes" she said stunned and you could finally breathe. You noticed all the eyes of your classmates on you. Always pretending that you didn't care about what happened, that it didn't affect you, but in the end you just loved Reiner. Connie approached menacingly "What are you his, eh, killer?" You stood in his way, he wasn't going to go near her. "Cousin" she said lightly. Silence surrounded the room again "He loves you, Gabi?" You asked her still standing in Connie's way. "Yes, he's very good to all of us, he buys us food for the festival and cheers us up." You sobbed. Reiner had always been a pure soul, he loves to take care of everyone he loved. "Walk away, Connie, now," and he slowly walked away with a surprised look on his face. You promised yourself and the children that nothing would happen to them. They would be under your protection and you would be the one to return them safely to Marley, in return they promised to take you to Reiner.

You spent the next few weeks with the children in your care, and as they taught you what kind of indoctrination they were undergoing at Marley, they learned that all was not as they had been told. They grew fond of you, even though they were puzzled by your reaction to Reiner, and you saved their lives and provided them with a dignified life on the base. Honestly, they were afraid to ask you why Reiner was so important to you, they only heard you talk about him that one time, and they knew from your tone that you spoke of him in a relatively affectionate tone. They thought you were just training partners or something, like with the other cadets.

The day came for you to leave, you would take them and Mikasa - for protection - to the coast of Marley. And once there, you infiltrate as citizens of the Liberio internment zone.

"Gabi, if anything happens to me, tell Reiner that I forgive him and that I love him. Tell him I came for him. Tell him we had to meet again.” and then you kissed her on the head before infiltrating the crowd.

[superlepato]

With Love from Memory Lane

Sorry for the delay, there was a blackout that lasted almost a week and I wasn’t able to write or post the new chapter. This one isn’t checked since I couldn’t find a beta at the moment if someone finds a syntax or grammar error please tell me, so I can change it. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  AO3

Chapter 4

One of the things he learns and struggles with was to recognize the advantage in life that came with his designation, while still acknowledging that he was a victim too, but not letting that fact cloud his judgment falling in a loop of victimization.

Nobody teaches you how to empathize with other in aspects that you could never understand and experience and accept that pain isn’t a currency that you can quantify, having more pain doesn’t make less the struggles of others.

Life isn’t a competition to see who suffers more.

In more than one occasion he felt that there was an invisible wall between Steve and him, and he didn’t do anything more than beat himself against it over and over before learning how to address the issue.

At that time when Steve gave him the silent treatment, he didn’t make any effort to be tolerant, he had enough if he wanted to act that way so be it.

They didn’t talk on Social Studies, Science or Language Arts, in the Recess they didn’t even saw each other, well...Steve didn’t, he knows because he was watching.

At school, Billy didn’t lack people to hang with, now that he didn’t spend his time exclusively with Steve his routine changed. He had to learn new directions and phone numbers, he could recognize some places but others were still foreign to him.

He had to call before going out to make sure that they were going to meet in the agreed place. In more than one occasion he waited for hours for the whole group to be complete.

Billy stopped doing it after his father berated him for being a bitch and going after everyone asses instead of showing dominance like an alpha, wasting his money like he was the one paying the phone’s bill, so he did what he was told, like the bitch his father wanted him to be just at home.

From then on he went to any place they decide to reunite (Melvald’s parking lot, basketball court, etc.) if someone wasn’t there when the time came they would leave him behind. Sometimes if the group didn’t schedule to meet after class, Billy would just go to the house of Tommy, David, Michael or anyone for that matter as long as he could stay away from his house.

It was easy for him to call the shots in the group, after the incident with the locker room he became the top alpha by default.

Steve didn’t leave his mind entirely especially when they shared classes, there wasn’t any animosity between them but neither of them made an effort to reconcile either, with the pass of days it was getting easier to think less and less of Steve and his home life, now that he was getting used to his new routine without him.

The day Steve and Billy made amends was on behalf of Steve distress. He would never forget that day and he wasn’t the only one, years later Steve’s breakdown would come as a topic on parties or more private and silent gatherings at the quarry.

That day everything started off, Steve was brought by his father instead of him coming with his bike like usual, the bike was still there just in the backside of the car, Steve’s clothes had wrinkles, his hair wasn’t brushed perfectly, his eyes and nose were puffy and red, it was weird how disheveled he looked. During class Steve was eerie silent and taciturn, not paying attention to classes and not bothering to pretend for the sake of not catching the attention of the teacher.

On recess he didn’t hang out with anybody, he just sat in a corner, head on his knees, in the Social Studies class that only omegas and alphas could attend Steve had his head on the clouds and no matter how many times the old alpha teacher told him to pay attention Steve keep daydreaming.

P.E was an exception, kind of, this time Steve seem to at least try to do the exercises but he did it with such lack of enthusiasm that the coach bench him since it was obvious that he wasn’t at his best, everyone else kept doing laps, in the corner of his eye he could see the still figure of Steve that was apparently sleeping.  

Lunch wasn’t any different than P.E, Billy doesn’t know if Steve ate or if he even brought or bought food, but he knows that he spent his time resting his head on the table, a lady came to Steve to check on him but promptly left him alone, maybe deciding to leave him after he gave a poor excuse. It seemed that the only thing he wanted to do was to sleep and dream.

Everything went to shit on Elective, he choose Spanish, the language wasn’t foreign to him since it wasn’t unusual to hear people speak it on the streets of Cali, it would be good to take advantage of this head start, also, it was a plus that he didn’t need to change classrooms as the others.

Omegas electives were three: knitting, sewing, and embroidery (in his opinion they were all the same), any girl could take those electives regardless of their designation, but to omegas it was mandatory.

They were learning new verbs when he heard the yelling of Steve and another person, an adult without a doubt. Miss Whitermoore was an old omega in charge of teaching cooking, floral arrangement, embroidery, and all that girly stuff, she wasn’t actually a teacher, she was more a glorified volunteer than anything else, she never got married and dedicated all his life in mastering the skills she taught, with so much free time  she must have decided one day to just to teach those hobbies, nobody seemed to mind, actually it was reinforced to keep those traditional activities alive. 

Billy thought that was a lie, half of it at least, they probably didn’t want to go against the old hag since it was better to keep her occupied with harmless activities than being in his bad side and let her focus all that free time gossiping and targeting people to bother, no wonder she was still a virgin, according to the rumor when she was younger she was such an ugly omega that nobody wanted her, she hides in a veil of traditionalism and puritanism to not show the resentment she felt towards everyone and herself.

That was the first time he saw that woman, dragging Steve by the neck, complaining that Steve was being disruptive during class, rude and a complete savage that bite her, promptly showing the mark on her arm with more vigor than necessary, whining how now she needed to see the doctor and how she was going to pay the pills and ointments since she didn’t perceive a salary from the school even though she was teaching for a long time and blah blah blah.

The hag and Mrs. Brown the Spanish teacher went outside, Mrs. Brown had to calm the hag from her rant about needing suture, leaving them with some exercises while they went to the nursery and in search of the homeroom teacher. Steve for his part was sent to sit in the corner.

The moment they were out of the room the whole class went nuts on gossip, some even try to pry information from Steve but he kept his vote of silence in the far corner of the room.

Mrs. Harper the homeroom teacher entered the classroom later, everyone turned to their sits and books, it was obvious that they didn’t fool anyone but the teacher didn’t give them more than a glance from the door frame, preferring to focus all is attention on Steve, calling him outside.

In low voices, the class kept talking, others stood up and went to the door trying to hear what they were talking about, with his ear pressed heavily on the wood door, Billy was one of them.

Mrs. Harper was asking what was the matter with Steve, he wasn’t behaving like usual, receiving complaints from other teachers about his lack of concentration and now his barbaric behavior.

He wasn’t able to hear what Steve said since his voice was so low that he probably must be whispering.

“ Why did you bite Miss Whitermoore? ” she asked with a stern tone.

“ ‘Cause she grabbed my arm and it hurt.” now that Billy can finally hear him, he swears that he could see the pouting face that Steve does when he is a brat.

“ And she did that because…? ” Steve doesn’t respond.

“ She told me that you didn’t want to the work and answered rudely to her. "

“ I don’t know why I have to see that class. ”

“ All omegas had to do it, you know that Steve. "

“ Yeah, but I’m not a girl, how knowing all that stuff is going to help me with anything? "

“ Those skills will come handy when you start a family. " this time she used a softer tone of voice.

“ Are they? they have helped you with something? ”

“ Of course, every day when I cook or when I mend my husband’s…”

“ So that’s it? everything I learned I’m going to use it to keep my alpha husband happy? ” Steve started to raise his voice, enough that he probably wouldn’t need to keep pressing his ear on the door.

“ Steve you can’t marry a man. " Mrs. Brown said without room for discussion.

“ But I have to, isn’t it? Health class taught us how omegas can only be with alphas, even though there are alpha couples and beta couples, there aren’t any omega couples because omegas can only feel complete with an alpha. Never fulfilled without a knot inside them. "

“ Steve Harrington, watch your mouth that’s no way of speaking! ”

“ IT’S TRUE! I’m not stupid or deaf, I can hear what everyone says, what my parents said. I know that I’m screwed, no woman would marry me and I can’t marry a man, I can’t get the job I want. I’m just the boy which his biology will turn into a fag in a couple of years, while everyone pretends that I have opportunities or a future beyond being the town's fag whore or the next Mrs. Whitermoore. This school is BULLSHIT, everyone here is BULLSHIT "- Steve went from pouting and grumbling to straight yelling to the top of his lungs, Billy was shocked, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew that those words weren’t directed at him, still, his heart beat like crazy on the other side of the door.

“ YOU ARE NO MORE THAN A LIER, YOU ARE JUST AN ORDINARY WOMAN, A BETA THAT NEVER LEFT THIS PLACE AND WILL DIE HERE FOR THE REST OF HIS PATHETIC LIFE ”

Steve was full hysteric, his voice is high pitched until loud slap echoed through the corridors. For a brief moment, everything was on silence, like time just stopped.

“That’s Enough! You don’t have the right to speak to me in that manner Steve Harrington”

Steve watch her through watered eyes and silent tears with an anger that his body could hardly contain, at that moment he was full of hate, hate for his parents, hate for his teachers, his classmates, and the school, hate for his bad luck, cursed to live a life without being loved and the one person who loved him left him, hate that burned inside him with a passion that threatened to burn the world, and if there were a possibility of that being possible he would let it happen. He did what he felt logical at the moment and run away, ignoring the warnings of Mrs. Brown.

The next day Steve’s episode was still the tendring topic in class and it would stay that way for a few more days, rumors were coming and going through school growing to the point of exaggeration. A simple bite turned to be something that needed twelve stitches or something gruesome as tearing bits of skin, how Steve's teeth were full of blood and didn’t come to class because his parents put him in a nut house.

One of the things that may be true was the rumor that Steve was responsible for the broken windows of some of the cars that were in the parking lot, Billy actually saw the windows of those cars when was returning home and they were indeed broken.

The next day Steve didn’t show up either, on the third day the police came to the school, Steve was missing.

[byuneebuns]

Syntax Error (Requested)

@wonboowoo asked: 

“can I request a fluffy wonwoo imagine or scenario (whichever it fits better as cause I'm not sure) where he's the shy quiet boy in your college english class that has a crush on you but isn't sure how to tell you? ty ily lots stay beautiful ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ (*⌒▽⌒*) ～♪”

Tags: Fluff, The Fluffiest Thing I’ve Ever Written Tbh, Just Fluff, Classmate AU

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Its a little short but I hope you enjoy it ♡ 

You sighed with irritation as your eraser tumbled out of your grip, bouncing along the ground and under the desk next to yours.

“Um, excuse me...could you pass my eraser please? It fell under your chair.” You whispered, startling the raven-haired boy that was your desk neighbor. He rarely spoke to you if he could help it and his cat-like eyes narrowed as he considered you before reaching one long arm under his chair to retrieve your belongings.

“Thank you!” You whispered, smiling sweetly. He stared at you for a moment, almost like he was thinking about what to say, but turned back to his worksheet without a word.

You sighed to yourself, your eyes downcast.

You’d been in the same English class as Jeon Wonwoo for months now and he had always been like this. You’d seen him talking with his friends and even other girls and boys, so the only conclusion you could come to was that he just didn’t like you.

You’d spent countless hours trying to win him over, offering him some of your lunch when he forgot his, trying to make small talk about assignments, but he never seemed interested in the conversation. You’d caught him staring at you on a few occasions but his expression was hard to read so you just chalked it up to intense dislike.

It was a shame, really. He was incredibly smart, easily the top of the class, and wildly handsome. Tall, tanned, toned, with features sharp enough to cut someone. His hair was usually slicked back and his voice was deep and husky. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought he was a troublemaker, but in reality he was just a quiet bookworm.

You tried to return to your work but the nagging thoughts of Wonwoo plagued you and you were sure half of your answers were wrong because of him.

Class continued on and you kept your eyes glued forward, refusing to waste anymore time on your neighbor’s theorized poor opinion of you, until you were forced to acknowledge him yet again.

“As you all know we have a project due when we come back from spring break. With us being a little behind schedule I’ve decided to make it a joint effort to reduce everyone’s workload a little bit with our midterms on the horizon. You’ll be teaming up with the person sitting next to you for this one, so please spend the last few minutes of class exchanging information and starting your project planning.”

The teacher’s decree felt like a death sentence. You couldn’t imagine anything more awkward than being forced to work with someone who wouldn’t even speak to you.

You turned to face your new partner, hoping beyond all reasonable doubt that you would somehow find him more agreeable. Instead you found him with his gaze fixed on his desk, his cheeks red for some reason, presumably with anger.

You sighed again as you scribbled your phone number on a post-it note and stuck it in front of the spot on his desk that he seemed intent on staring a hole into.

“That’s my phone number. I’m free pretty much everyday, so just let me know when you want to get together and do this.”

Wonwoo nodded jerkily, still not meeting your eyes, making your stomach drop with sadness a little.

***

Nearly a week had passed and you still hadn’t heard hair nor hide from Wonwoo. He’d been sending all of your calls to voicemail. You were growing irritable and nervous about how it would affect your grade if you had to do it by yourself. The project very specifically stated that it was to be presented together. You rolled over on your bed and moaned into your pillow with frustration. 

If Wonwoo wasn’t going to make an effort you would have to take matters into your own hands.

***

Your feet hit the pavement with dull thuds as you trudged through the neighborhood looking from house to house for your destination. You were beginning to regret not wearing more comfortable shoes, the walk has been longer than you anticipated. Despite your anger you couldn’t help wanting to look cute, so you’d chosen a pale blue sundress with brown sandals. You nervously wondered if it would be obvious that you’d tried so hard to look nice.

Your feet stopped in front of a modest single family home with a brass number 17 hanging next to the door. You glanced down at the address scribbled on your sticky note and took a deep breath. There were no cars in the driveway. Stupid. You hadn’t considered what you’d do if no one was home. Your shoulders slumped, either from the weight of your backpack or defeat, you weren’t sure.

“Well, I’m already here, I might as well knock I guess.” You mumbled to yourself, chewing your lip nervously as your made your way up the driveway to the front door.

Your heart was pounding in your chest while your fist pounded on the door.

Silence.

You sighed. He wasn’t home after all.

You turned to walk away when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking Wonwoo. He was wearing basketball shorts and a large white t-shirt, and his eyebrows raised comically when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, visibly perplexed.

You spun around, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

“I’m here to do our English project! You’ve been avoiding me all break! I don’t care if you hate me, I just want to keep my GPA up!” The words left your mouth like a whirlwind, your breathing was heavy from shouting and your cheeks were red, both from embarrassment and exertion.

Then, for the first time ever, Wonwoo smiled at you.

It was a beautiful sight. You thought to yourself that even if you never saw it again that you were truly blessed to have witnessed something so precious. 

He chuckled lowly.

“Why don’t you come inside?” He stepped aside, allowing you step past him into the entrance way. You glanced down, noting the lack of shoes by the door.

“Is anyone else home?”

“No, just me.”

You gulped, your cheeks heating as you followed Wonwoo silently up the stairs. 

His room was exceptionally clean and well-organized. Not a pile of dirty clothing or even a stray sock in sight. You couldn’t help being impressed, boys weren’t usually known for their cleanliness.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway wringing your hands, praying your nerves weren’t showing on your face, but Wonwoo was too busy rummaging through his backpack to notice either way. 

He sat down in the middle of the floor with a few open textbooks in front of him, and gestured for you to join him.

“Why did you ignore all of my calls?” You blurted out before you could help yourself. If you’d known how compliant he would be if you just showed up at his house you would have come by ages ago, but he’d sure gone out of his way to make this inconvenient.

“I never received any calls from you. I wouldn’t ignore you like that. Maybe you have my number wrong?” He replied quietly, looking away from you and rubbing the back of his neck.

“How did you find my address? And why do you think that I hate you?” He countered, eyeing you with an inscrutable expression.

“Student directory. You never talk to me in class, you never make eye contact, and I thought you were ignoring all of my calls because you didn’t want to do this project with me.” You said, feeling increasingly childish with each word.

“Why didn’t you ever call me? I gave you my phone number during class. If you hadn’t heard from me you could have called instead.”

Wonwoo avoided your gaze, his cheeks tinged with pink again.

“Ah....”

“Hey, answer me. We need to clear up our misunderstandings properly so we can work together.” You said, tugging on his shirt to reclaim his attention.

“I was...too nervous.” He mumbled, barely audible over the loud thump of your heart.

“Nervous...?”

He nodded, still refusing to look at you.

“You make me nervous.” He whispered.

You were speechless. You took a few minutes to digest this new information before pressing him further.

“So...all of the times you ignored me in class...were you nervous then, too?” You asked, your voice faint.

Wonwoo swallowed roughly and nodded in confirmation a second time.

Your mind was reeling. All of this time you’d been assuming he hated you, you’d never thought to consider that it could have been the opposite. Your brain was replaying every interaction you’d ever had with one another on a loop and the more you looked back on them the more foolish you felt for not seeing it. You’d assumed the worst without considering other options.

“Do you, um, want to start working?” Wonwoo mumbled, his face radiating heat with the fury of his blush.

You beamed at him.

“Sure.”

The two of you worked in comfortable silence together, speaking only to share ideas or confirm what direction to take your joint effort in. Despite the silence there was a tangible electricity in the air. Whenever you looked at each other, when your fingertips brushed together reaching for the same thing. Your faces were both permanently stained red.

You brushed eraser dust from your page and sat back, admiring your work.

“I think my part is all done!”

You glanced out the window and saw the sun was already setting and gasped.

“Oh no, I have to get going, I didn’t realize how long we’d been working.” You said, springing to your feet nervously. Wonwoo rose to his feet as well, quietly helping you retrieve your scattered belongings, and followed you from the room.

“Can I...walk you home? It’s too dark for you to be out alone.” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck again. You were quickly noticing that it must have been a nervous habit of his.

You chewed on the inside of your mouth thoughtfully.

“It isn’t too far but if you don’t mind I would appreciate the company.” You said, unable to keep the smile from your lips. He returned it, shyly meeting your eyes before swiftly looking away again. Your heart throbbed painfully again.

The two of you walked through the twilit streets together, occasionally breaking the silence to make some comment about the scenery or school.

You had never known just being in someone’s presence to be so...comforting.

You found yourself glancing at his hand swinging in sync with your own, mere inches from one another. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to confirm this was real, and as if in answer to some unspoken prayer you both swung your arms at just the right speed, just the right angle, that your fingers crashed together, tangling with one another. 

You both looked in opposite directions, but your hands stayed clasped together, fingers slowly entwining.

The rest of the walk felt like it was in slow motion and sped up all at once. You wished it could have lasted forever but you were already in your driveway. You reluctantly pulled your hand away and turned to face Wonwoo. He held your gaze this time, both of you searching for words.

“Thank you for walking me home.” You said in a hushed tone, swinging your newly freed arms nervously.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming and getting this done with me. Well, uh, enjoy the rest of your break.” He awkwardly waved at you and started making his way back down your driveway.

You felt overwhelmed by an emotion you couldn’t place and before you could really consider what you were about to do you were running after him.

“Wonwoo, wait!”

He turned to you, his eyebrows raised.

You barely managed to stop before you would have doubtlessly knocked him off of his feet, skidding to a halt just in front of him and throwing your arms around his neck. You stood on the very tips of your toes and pressed your lips gently into his cheek, trying to put all of your unspoken feelings into that single action.

You turned and ran back to your front door without another word, internally screaming in embarrassment.

Wonwoo watched you flee, his mouth slightly open, one hand resting on his cheek where your lips had been only moments before, his face blazing like a sunset.