#my mind is in an angsty gutter today

[dirtytransmasc]

do you have any ao'nung and tsireya bonding w their new brother, spider, hcs?? <3

I had almost finished writing this post out, and then my computer died, and I wanna scream. anyway

both siblings are good kids, so when their parents take spider in and tell them to treat him as one of their own, they do it. spider is their baby brother (we don't know ao'nung or tsireya's ages, so they might be younger, but I don't care, spider's the baby of the family as far as I'm concerned) from the second he's brought into their home

tsireya is the sweet supportive sister from the very beginning, she loves having another baby brother to coddle and annoy (cause that's what big sisters are good for). ao'nung is the pain in the ass big brother who would die before someone harms a hair on his head.

tsireya is the empathetic, emotional protector sibling; she helps keep him grounded, gives him a rock to hold onto when he can't go to their parents, since his sort of parental trauma doesn't just go away easy, no amount of proper parenting with undo it, so sometimes he needs someone in his corner when his mind gets the best of him. ao'nung is more of physical protector, he makes sure no one messes with his baby brother, that he takes care of himself, and that he doesn't push himself too far.

tsireya is normally the one who follows him when he sulks off, and it always works out the same way; she goes to find him, sits next to him without saying a word, and then waits for him to fall against her before she wraps her tail around him. sometimes she starts humming or singing, sometimes they talk, other times they just sit and listen to the water or the forest. he feels safe to just feel and react and cry when he's with her.

ao'nung is his partner in crime, they're attached at the hip, constantly butting heads, and always ready for chaos. ao'nung taught spider everything he knows about their culture, diplomacy, leadership, and mischief; so not only are they good at pissing each other off, but they're good at breaking havoc against any poor unfortunate soul, and getting away with it (they're best friends and it shows)

when spider first joins the village, but was not yet adopted, tsireya tries to be kind and welcoming, as she did with the sully's joining the village. ao'nung does the same, in the way that he treats spider like he did the sully's; he antagonizes cause he's a stupid teenager. he hits a sore spot fast and see's spiders true nature very quickly. he thought that spider was a relatively well-rounded kid like him, thought he could take a couple jabs here and there, he didn't know how badly he had been alienated his whole life, so the few stabs at spider's human nature revealed how sad and anxious he was, how hard he tried to fit in. he's pretty protective after that, so you can only imagine how he reacted when he found out how spider was treating himself, and how he was being treated by the sully's after neteyam's death.

when spider goes through his mental and physical burnout, its ao'nung that won't leave his side; he practically force feeds him when he won't eat, is constantly offering him water, watching him sleep, forcing him to clean himself up. he makes sure he won't lose another brother (spider's body gave out during the clean up of the battle, ao'nung subsequently witnessed it, and after losing neteyam, it made him feel a certain type of way).

ao'nung and tsireya were the first people to get spider to smile again.

spider brings out tsireya's competitive streak, they always have some sort of petty bet going on between them; who can finish chores first, who can piss off ao'nung first, etc.

ao'nung and spider, no matter how they present themselves, are fair, intelligent, competent leader's. they are s perfect duo when it comes to helping tonowari maintain the village during the war times and they're are constantly surprising everything everyone with how serious they can be at times.

spider likes to show his siblings his live by making them things or doing their hair. he likes quiet time with his loved ones.

ao'nung and spider are a mirror image of neteyam and lo'ak respectively, and it makes them both a little sad, and it chills the Sully's to their cores.

when they sleep together as a family, the kids sleep between their parents, with spider in the very middle, cause they all know that boy needs all the cuddles.

[filmbyjy]

IT TAKES TWO

PAIRING: nishimura riki x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you've always despised nishimura riki. ever since he decided to jump onto the next girl when you broke up with him. your love for him lingered and you missed him. however, you knew he didn't like you anymore. or maybe he still did?

WARNINGS: this decently angsty and honestly idk what I even wrote. cursing and tons of them! very childish fighting between ni-ki and you. my brain can't comprehend wtf i wrote. kissing! idk if that's a warning.

WORD COUNT: 4.8K words

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo

a/n: okay I lied. this has been in my drafts since 2022 but like still it’s been a year😀oh i didn't exactly proofread this. i did check the grammar a little whilst trying to write but it's not fully proofread.

you pushed yourself off the ground, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. the mirrors were fogging up, a true sign of hard work had been done.

“great job (name). that would be all for today.” heeseung, a senior of the dance club, says. you smiled at him.

“thank you sunbae.” heeseung chuckles.

“you don’t have to call me sunbae (name)-ah. we can speak casually, of course i’m still older than you so you have to use a little formality.” you shyly looked away.

“o-oh alright heeseung sunba-i mean heeseung oppa.”

“better.” he ruffles your hair.

“hey hyung, are you done with her? jay hyung has been looking for you.” ni-ki says.

you gave him a hard glare. now, you may ask who was this ni-ki guy. well he was nishimura riki, a classmate of yours.

heeseung nods and he sends a small smile to you before leaving the place. ni-ki rolls his eyes.

“you do realise heeseung hyung has a girlfriend right?”

“yeah.” you in fact did not hence you formed a painfully obvious crush on him. “why do you care anyways?” you growled at ni-ki.

“jeez calm down tiger, I just noticed how you always try too hard to get heeseung hyung to notice you. it’s clear he has already set boundaries between you and him. he sees you as his little sister.”

“shut the fuck up.” ni-ki smirks.

“and what if I don’t, lee?”

“well nishimura, both you and I know this wouldn’t end nicely so I suggest you shut the fuck up before I make you.” you stare at him hard.

“think I’m afraid of you Lee? just cause your brother is Lee Minho? captain of the dance club? your dear brother loves me (name)-ie.”

you gave ni-ki the finger and left with your things.

ah the dynamic between you and the boy. the tension was too high, even your brother thought so.

“that’s where you are, what took you so long.” minho whines.

“save that whining for jisung. ah wait, forgot you are probably stuffing your tongue down his throat instead.”

“yahhh what’s with the uptight behaviour?”

“you know why Minho.”

“you and riki kid again? oh lord, you two are like cats and water. enemies.”

“you’re just saying that because soongie wouldn’t get in the bath water.”

“SHE WAS CLAWING ON ME AND THAT SHIT HURT.”

“cut her nails then.”

“what? no! she has to use those nails to attack anyone I hate. I’m training her, she’s our fiesty lion.”

“and how is training going?” you looked over at Minho.

“not well…”

“there’s your answer, let her live. she probably already hates you more than ever.”

“SHE DOESNT. YOU’RE JUST UPSET RIKI HASN'T KISS YOU YET!”

“now why would I want that demon child to kiss me?”

“the tension (name), do you not feel it?”

“no mr.krabs, I am not feeling it. the only tension I’m feeling is our hatred for each other.”

“yeah but that tension can be something more…like sexual tension.” you gave your big brother a smack on the head.

“we are 17, Lee Minho. get your mind out of the fucking gutter. moreover, I would never kiss someone like nishimura.”

“oh you two go by first name basis, watch him call you Mrs.Nishimura.”

“in your dreams.”

“BABEEE!!!” jisung clings onto Minho’s arms. minho leaves a cute little peck on the boy’s lips.

“ugh you two are disgusting.” you grumbled.

“hyungie, think we should find a boyfriend for (name)? she’s kinda extra spicy today.” jisung says.

“ay fuck you, you’re lucky you’re my brother’s boyfriend or else I would have roundhouse your ass a long time ago.”

“hyungie, she scares me.” jisung hides behind minho.

“(name), please don’t scare jisung. Oh and sungie, she just finished an argument with riki and she’s tired from dance practice. just let her live okay?”

“but she needs to release her tension.”

“you and everyone else are the same. I already told you that me and nishimura do not have any sort of tension besides the hatred we have for each other!”

“then if you don't, why don’t you go out and find a boyfriend? I bet you’d be a hundred percent way more happier.” jisung says.

“I would’ve had a boyfriend if I wasn’t a coward and confessed to heeseung sunbae and if he didn’t have a girlfriend!” you yelled. you froze after saying so.

“you like heeseung?” your brother says.

“minho, please don’t tell him. it’s no use of telling him if he already has a girlfriend.”

“he doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time I checked?” jisung says.

“what?”

“who told you that?” jisung asks.

“ni-ki.”

both minho and jisung shared a knowing look.

“(name), have you ever thought riki might have a crush on you? hence he said heeseung had a girlfriend?”

“what? why would he like me when he fucking hates my guts.”

“look (name), both you and riki are really dense and we hate it. we can tell the both of you like each other.” jisung says.

“you’re talking fucking nonsense, jisung.”

“(name).” minho looks at you.

“just drive me home and then you can go on your little date with jisung.” you shut your brother down. Minho sighs.

“alright, you’re okay with being alone at home with the cats right? mom and dad won’t be home early tonight.”

“are they ever home early?” minho wanted to answer but he couldn’t because it was true, when were they ever home.

he drives you home and drops you off. he rolls down the window.

“how about you order something if you’re hungry or-”

“i’m not going to the nishimura’s.”

“mrs.nishimura is usually home so if you want some home cooked food. I suggest going over.”

“yeah yeah. have fun on your date you two.” you rolled your eyes.

“(name), don’t do anything okay?” minho says.

“like what? have sex? that’s what you two are gonna do.”

“we aren’t-(name)!” jisung blushes.

“just get in the house, dork.” minho says.

“yes, my dear brother.” you bowed and went to open the door.

you entered your home and were instantly swarmed with Minho’s cats.

“doongie, dori where is your sister?” you asked the two cats. dori meows and walks, seems like it was trying to lead you somewhere.

you followed the cat and well you found someone in the backyard petting soongie.

“nishimura riki.” you mumbled under your breath. you watched him smile and pet the tabby cat. it rubs itself on the boy happily, tail curling in happiness.

why did he look so cute? wait-

the boy senses a presence looking at him and as such, he looks up. you stay frozen in your spot. he stands up and opens your back door.

“had fun staring (name).” ni-ki smirks.

“fuck off.”

“how cute, got you all flustered huh.” he teases.

“very funny. why would you get me flustered, nishimura.” you rolled your eyes.

“well, lee. if a good looking guy like me enters someone’s home and they are alone…why wouldn’t any girl get flustered?”

“that just makes you a pervert.” you bite back. ni-ki scoffs.

“fair enough. anyways, I’m here cause my mom told me to call you and your brother over but seeing as to how he left with his boyfriend…you’re home alone.”

“I can handle being home alone myself. I’m not a baby.”

“you wouldn’t be saying that when you were 13.” you gave the boy a sharp glare.

“I told you to not talk about when we were 13. also, can you stop bringing up the past? the past where you hurt me?”

“when did I ever hurt you?” ni-ki says.

“when we fucking broke up.”

“we were young, we both made mistakes. there is nothing for you to dwell over the past we had.” ni-ki rolls his eyes.

“you’re right. I shouldn’t dwell over it but I can’t stop these feelings.” a tear falls. “get out. you’ve already hurt me enough and you’ve lied to me a lot. there is no point of us seeing each other anymore.”

[flashback, 4 years ago]

both you and ni-ki were young and very much in love. no one knew you two dated, everyone only assumed you two were best friends. not even your family or his. which was weird considering the amount of time you two spent together, guess no one really cared.

he was popular with everyone and you were decently acquainted with everyone. there were tons of sneaky dates at the library and maybe cute little pecks here and there. they were innocent of course. that’s how your love was, an innocent puppy love.

but you wanted something more…serious. you sincerely loved ni-ki. you wanted it to continue in the future years and you even thought about marrying him. you were too in love with him. however, ni-ki just wanted something casual. he was too immature and young to think about getting in a serious relationship.

so he has never admitted he loved you. yeah, he confessed but he hasn’t said ‘I love you’. one day, you had confronted him.

“I love you, ni-ki.” you say.

the boy sits there stunned.

“love? don’t normally people who are in a serious relationship say that?” he questions.

“are we not in a serious relationship?” you asked. the boy laughs.

“why would we be? we are young. I still haven’t grown a beard!”

“so you don’t love me?”

“I like you but that doesn’t mean I realise that I want to truly like you with my full heart.”

“oh.”

“I still have many other girls after me, you don’t have to be the only girl I like. besides, we are also best friends. it’s kinda weird still.” he says.

“let’s break up.” you say not looking up at ni-ki.

“okay.” you looked up at him. how could he so casually say that? “i’ve been meaning to start dating aria from our class anyways. think I should ask her out now?”

no remorse whatsoever. that’s when your hatred grew for him.

“go ahead and fucking date her. I’m not your girlfriend anymore and neither am I your best friend anymore.” you threw the necklace. the necklace signified your friendship of 3 years. it was a matching one with ni-ki’s but since you two were officially not friends anymore you gave it back to him.

“what? we can still be friends (name).”

“not with someone who broke my heart.” you say. you cried on the way home. that night, minho had comforted you despite not knowing what happened.

he vowed to hurt the person who hurt you but up till now…he didn’t know it was ni-ki. the person he trusted the most.

[present time]

ni-ki knows you were crying. he remembers the day you had broken up with him. he was stupid he knows. which was why…he vowed to get you back and never let you go again.

but he can’t. he doesn’t know how to. the only thing he was good at was breaking your heart. he was bad at love and he was also afraid. which was why he couldn’t bring himself to hold you close.

he leaves your home. never to come back even though he really wanted to.

the boy enters his home, his mother eyeing his slumped shoulders.

“what happened? why isn’t (name) with you? she’s supposed to have dinner with us. also where is minho?”

“she’s not going to come. minho hyung is out with his boyfriend.”

“what do you mean she’s not coming. it’s dangerous for her to be alone in the house. go watch over her.”

“mom, she’s turning 17 and she’s pretty much independent. I don’t need to watch her.” ni-ki huffs.

“did you two have a fight? riki, sweetie you need to be less assertive. (name) is a sweet girl, you need to be gentle with her.”

“mom, can I please just get to my room?” Mrs.Nishimura sighs.

“fine, I'll just go over then. dinner is on the dining table, have some before you go playing your video games all night as per usual.” ni-ki hums. his mother going over to your home.

you hear a small knock at your door and went to open it. Mrs.Nishimura pulls you into a hug.

“did ni-ki hurt you again (name)? if so, I’m so sorry for my son’s behaviour. I have no idea why he is like this when the both of you were so close in the past.”

she quickly checks up on your face. it was obvious you had just finished crying, she sighs.

“I am so sorry this happened (name).”

“it’s fine Mrs.Nishimura.”

“no, it’s not. he is my son. you two were friends and out of nowhere you two just stopped being friends. I should have prevented it, I should have seen it coming.”

“it’s not your fault Mrs.Nishimura. it was ours, we-” should you really tell her? both you and Mrs.Nishimura were really close. even back then when you were younger.

“what happened sweetheart?”

“we used to date.” Mrs.Nishimura gasps.

“oh my, what did my son do to you?” she asks.

“we were too young, we didn’t know about love. well, mostly ni-ki. I wanted it to be sort of serious but ni-ki didn’t. he said something along the lines of me not being the only one he might fall in love with and there was no guarantee that he might still like me. I broke up with him and he was okay with it. I-” you start to choke up, “I love him.”

this stunned Mrs.Nishimura. she never thought this would happen. she knew it was hard for you and how much you’ve gone through with the heartbreak. she holds you close as you cried on her shoulder.

“oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry this happened to you. I didn’t know you two were once lovers. while I’m happy that you two did date, whatever my son did is not right.” she says to comfort you.

once you’ve calmed down, she caresses your cheek.

“how about you have dinner okay? it will make you feel better and if you’d like, we can chat some more and talk about what happened.”

“thank you, Mrs.Nishimura.”

“oh sweetheart, you can call me aunty. only if you’re comfortable of course.”

“thank you aunty.” she smiles before pointing to the thermal bag.

“go eat sweetie, I need to run back to my house to give my son a big scolding.” she says before she steps away. you held onto her wrist and she turns back to you.

“aunty, can you please not tell him? I don’t want him to find out that you know about our past relationship.”

“of course, sweetheart. in that case, I’ll just grab something for you instead. a sweet treat or something.” she smiles at you before she leaves.

you sighed. at least you didn’t have to lie to Mrs.Nishimura about why you and ni-ki fell out of the close bond.

the next day, you were walking to your class when ni-ki pulls you somewhere secluded. well not so secluded, it was just an empty classroom. the moment he stopped, you pulled your hands away from him, giving him the scariest glare you could do.

“what do you want?”

“my mom.”

did Mrs.Nishimura tell him?

“she knows about us.” ah so she did.

“and what about it? what we had was in the past, why do you care if she knows?”

“because she’s my mom (name). she was never supposed to find out about us.”

“you’ve always wanted to keep us a secret. have you ever thought about telling her or your dad eventually?”

“never.” ni-ki says

“oh wow, how selfish of you. i can't believe you. this is why we broke up. you never thought of being in a serious relationship with me, you never wanted to show me off and you wanted me to be a secret. I never wanted to be your sneaky link.”

“who said you were my sneaky link? (name), I liked you.”

“oh really? remember all those dates we had? hidden, kept away, that’s all i was. then with what you said after we broke up? you wanted to date another girl after I literally just ended the relationship. do you ever have remorse? was I ever someone important to you?”

“of course (name). you have always been the most important to me.”

“cut with the bullshit, riki. If you had ever liked me, you should have stopped me from breaking up with you but you didn’t. you left me to cry for days, get sick and made me hate myself for so long. do you know how hurt i was? i genuinely thought i’d die from crying so much. and why? because i loved you. that’s how much i liked your stupid ass and now i’ve sort of moved on from you, you stop me from getting the happiness i deserve? why are you toying with my feelings?”

by now, tears were already flowing across your cheeks. the silence was deafening and you just wanted to leave, and so you tried to but not without ni-ki pulling on your wrist and pulling you into a hug. you don’t even register he was hugging you until you feel your shoulders getting wet. ni-ki was crying, he let his walls down.

“i’m so fucking sorry.” ni-ki whispers. you tried to push him away but he only holds onto you tighter. “please, don’t leave me.” he whispers again.

you stood there frozen, you let ni-ki cry on your shoulders. you were already late to class so a few more minutes with ni-ki wouldn’t hurt or it possibly could. you feel small pecks on your neck, something ni-ki did in the past while he was cuddling with you. he freezes and lets you go.

“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have overstepped your boundaries. we aren’t dating anymore and you have feelings for someone else now. i should respect that. i should go.” ni-ki leaves the room.

your heart still longed for him no matter if he hurt you multiple times, you wanted him to be selfish for once and realise that he is worthy of you. 

“nishimura riki, you have once again hurt me.” you couldn’t cry anymore even if you wanted to, you just went to class.

after school, you went to the dance studio. heeseung obviously knows you weren’t okay so he stops you from continuing the routine.

“hey, are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m fine.”

“(name). you know you can always trust me.” you breathed in.

“heeseung oppa, i like you.” heeseung’s eyes widened.

“oh, (name). umm, i’m sorry but i don’t see you like that.” he says trying to let you down in the most gentle way possible. you felt like crying and not because of heeseung but because of ni-ki. a tear slips out and heeseung panics.

“h-hey, i’m sorry. you don’t have to cry.” he wipes the tears falling. you laughed while trying to wipe the falling tears.

“it’s okay, i’m not crying because of the rejection.”

“oh, then what’s wrong?”

“ni-ki.” you say. heeseung tilts his head, you told him what happened. he was a little shocked to find out the reason why you two were enemies in the first place.

“(name), i think you should be upfront with him. tell him how you really feel, how much you still like him. ni-ki hasn’t dated anyone else and we have been wondering why. he never talks about why so we thought something happened, we never thought you were the reason why.”

“you make me sound so evil.”

“(name), you know that’s not what i mean.” heeseung huffs. you giggled.

“i know.” you hear the door crack open and followed by a slap on the arm and complaints. heeseung facepalms.

“boys.” heeseung says. they pile out. “how long have you been standing there for?”

“since (name) confessed to you.” jake says. sunghoon slaps the boy’s arm.

“curse you for being painfully truthful.” sunghoon whines.

jake shrugs, “well, i am not going to just lie about it.”

“we were eavesdropping, that’s equally as bad as lying.” jay says. jake pouts.

“well all of you know why me and ni-ki hate each other. even you minho.” you say. minho walks out from behind sunghoon, awkwardly laughing.

“sorry, (name). anyways, doesn’t that mean the reason why you cried so much when you were thirteen-”

“was because ni-ki and i broke up. yes, that’s why i cried so much.”

“oh my baby sister.” minho goes to hug you and you pushed him away. “I’m so sorry your heart got broken by a pubescent 13 year old boy.” you smacked his arm.

“god why did i have to have you as my brother.” you groaned.

“you love me (name).” minho says.

“yeah, unfortunately.” minho huffs at your words.

“okay so how are we going to get ni-ki to confess to you again.” jake says.

“jake there is no point. that boy is stubborn.” you say.

“you’re right, you should date me instead.” sunghoon says.

“dude, now is not the time to say this!” jay says.

“I was kidding. I mean, i’m park sunghoon. i’m sure, anyone would love to date me.” minho high-fives sunghoon.

“that’s my fav boy.” he says. you scoffed.

“let’s just drop this.” you grabbed your things and left the studio. minho runs after you.

“(name). come on, you have a whole team who are more than prepared to give you that cute high school relationship!”

“minho, i already said to drop it. I really don’t want to go through this whole problem over a boy who doesn’t like me.”

“are you sure he doesn’t like you, (name)?”

at minho’s words, your mind replays what happened earlier in the classroom.

“don’t leave me, please.”

ni-ki cried. he was never one to show his feelings. that was his most vulnerable state that you’ve seen him in. 

“yes, he doesn’t like me.” you say. you weren’t sure yourself.

“you’re denying it. i can see it in your eyes. you know something that we don’t.”

“minho, i just really don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m tired.” you say. minho takes note of the painful tone you had. your voice wavered.

“alright, i’ll stop. you should go home.” you nod at his words and went home. minho sighs and goes back to where the others were.

“hyung, how did it go?”

“nothing much. i think it’s best if we ask ni-ki. the both of them used to date each other, clearly they still like each other.” minho says.

“jungwon, do you know where ni-ki’s class is?”

“of course, follow me.”

however, when they went to find ni-ki he was nowhere to be found. they decided to visit his home. as for you, as you were about to open the door. you could hear mewls coming from inside, you were worried about the cats so you went in. you noticed the cats surrounding ni-ki as he cries.

“why are you here and also you practically broke into my house.”

ni-ki was alarmed, “i’m sorry. i just walked in here aimlessly. my house is also locked and i don’t have the keys.”

“don’t you have classes in afternoon?”

“I didn’t go.”

“oh.”

ni-ki shivers. you went towards and placed a hand on his forehead. you sighed.

“you’re having a fever. come on, how about you go take a warm shower and then lay in the guest bedroom. i’ll grab some medicine from the cabinet.” you went to walk away but ni-ki grabs your wrist.

“don’t leave me, please.” he weakly says.

“I won’t, i’ll be here in the house while you go bathe. i need to grab clothes for you too.” ni-ki nods. he stands up to go to the bathroom. you left him a towel outside the door and clothes on the bed. you shut the bedroom door.

why were you suddenly taking care of ni-ki? he was the one who hurt you constantly and here you were. you shouldn’t be doing this. your heart aches. you decided to make him some warm honey water and grab the medicine from the cabinet. maybe you should make him a little something to eat, you weren’t sure if he even ate lunch. how did he even get sick in the first place?

you decided to make him a sandwich since it was the only easy thing you were able to prepare. you knocked on the door with a tray in your other hand. you heard ni-ki mutter ‘come in’ so you entered. you nearly froze in your steps when you noticed the hoodie he had on. it was the hoodie you had gifted him with while you were dating, it fit just nice since ni-ki had grown quite a lot.

the boy tries to dry his hair with the towel you handed him with. you placed down the tray onto the nightstand before grabbing the towel and helping him dry his hair. it was an unconscious gesture since you used to help ni-ki dry his hair after he finished bathing. he stays quiet. once you were done, you looked down at him. he was looking up at you and you looked away.

“i made something for you to eat before you have your medicine. there’s honey water too in case your throat is soar. I’ll be in my room-”

“stay, please.” he voices out.

“I have to study.”

“then study here. i need you, please.”

your heart races. you sighed.

“fine, i’ll grab my things and study here.” ni-ki nods and you go to grab your study materials and notes. you came back and placed your materials on the ground.

“you can do the work on the bed.”

“with you on the bed? i’m not your friend, nishimura.”

“i’m sick and you are technically responsible for me.”

“i am not responsible for you-”

“you saw me and helped me. this means you are responsible for me.”

“what are you? five?”

“you used to care for me when we were dating.”

“please stop bringing up the past.”

“the past that i miss.” ni-ki says. You froze.

“don’t lie to me. you never missed me. you only wanted to fool around.”

“I regret saying that.”

“well too bad, nishimura. we broke up. that’s it, that was the end of us.”

“it doesn’t have to end, (name).”

“if i gave you another chance, you’d just throw it away again.”

“i wouldn’t.”

“ni-ki.” you say.

“(name), i really really love you.”

what was this sick joke he was playing.

“i used to look forward to hearing you say that but now it just seems like a joke to me. you don’t have to put pity on me. i know i was desperate back when we were young. i just really liked you so much.”

“i am not joking with you, (name).”

“prove it then. if you love me so much.”

“I’m sick, (name).”

“well, that sucks then-” ni-ki leans in and kisses you. your eyes widened, you could feel his lips moving against yours. this was really passionate but soft. ni-ki has never kissed you like this before. your eyes flutter shut and you kissed him back.

ni-ki sighs into the kiss, his hands reaches up to your cheek to hold it. he tilts his head to slightly deepen the kiss. one that shows how much he treasured you and how sorry he felt for hurting you. you pulled away.

“i love you.” he says it once again.

“ni-ki, we can’t make this official.”

“i know. i’ve hurt you a bunch of times. we’ll take it slow.” you nod.

“i need to trust you first. i can’t bring myself to just forgive you.”

“alright. can i at least hold you?”

you nod before climbing into the bed. he wraps his arms around your waist. the both of you laid down on the bed. it was a little awkward but ni-ki still felt at ease knowing he was able to hold you.

A year later, you were in your bedroom playing games with ni-ki. he attempts to sabotage you in mario kart.

“yah, ni-ki!”

“too bad, babe!” he sticks out his tongue.

“hey! you guys started the game without us!” jake huffs. both you and ni-ki smirked at each other.

“we started first because i wanted to play a round with my girlfriend.”

“urgh, i am not over this. it’s been 5 months since you two started dating and you’re already pulling the ‘couple’ card.” jay says.

“oh, it’s been 5 months?” you say.

“5 months with my beautiful girl.” ni-ki squeezes you and pecks your cheek.

jungwon gags at the sight, “I liked it better when they fought.” 

“i have to agree with that.” minho says.

“young love.” heeseung shrugs.

“let’s back out of the game so they can play, ni-ki.” you pat his arm.

“okay.”

“IM PLAYING AS PRINCESS PEACH!” sunoo yells.

in the end, you got your happy ending.

with the same boy who hurt you.

nishimura riki.

[mishasminion360]

Request- Marcus M. returns home, battered, bloody, bruised and badly beaten up and his 2nd wife takes care of him. The next morning, Marcus wakes up after having a nightmare(Non-descriptive) of losing his 2nd wife, Missy and Missy's younger half sister and his 2nd wife comforts him.

🥺🥺🥺 It would be my pleasure to write something so angsty!

In Dreams

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader

Warnings: Allusions to violence; blood and injuries; nightmares and PTSD; angst; fluff; hurt/comfort.

Summary: After the Heroics finally defeat their most challenging longtime enemy, fears still linger for Marcus.

A/N: Thank you @lovelypastel2532 for the request! You know angst is my jam 🥺 And yes. I did steal the name of Missy’s little half sister from “Encanto”. Don’t judge me 😂

From time to time Marcus finds himself wondering what it would be like to have a normal job. The non-world saving kind. The kind where you sit in a little cubicle tippity tapping away at a keyboard all day, ponder who keeps stealing your yogurt from the break room fridge, and suffer through three hour meetings that could have just been an email.

He contemplated all that today while taking a few punches to the face from HQ’s uninvited guest. The biggest bad the team’s ever faced decided to pay a visit and things got a bit rough. More than a bit. The villain was subdued—hopefully for good this time—and Marcus is a little worse for wear now because of it. Still too young to retire, but also too old for this crap.

He practically drags himself through the front door this evening; bloody, bruised, and a little bit broken.

“Jesus, Marcus,” you say, already rushing to his side with the first aid kit. “At least tell me the other guy looks worse.”

You always manage to make him laugh, even when it hurts to do so.

“The girls aren’t around, are they? I don’t want Missy and Mirabel to see me like this.”

“The coast is clear, hot shot,” you tell him. “Now, let’s get you bandaged up like a mummy before they do decide to make their presence known.”

He gives you a quick peck on the lips before trudging through the kitchen.

“Shower first.”

***

The heat of the pounding water uncoils his tightly wound muscles. He scrubs carefully at each bleeding nick, cut, and scrape, trying to remove the evidence of the day’s events.

He grins when he hears the shower door glide open and closed and feels your gentle touch run along his shoulders.

“And just what can I do for you?”

You’re familiar with that sly tone.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you snort. “I’m here to help you relax and nothing more.”

He moans in bliss as your hands knead the aching muscle in his back. The sensation of your skillful fingers massaging their way through his wet curls and across his scalp nearly brings tears to his eyes. He shudders at the warmth of your lips pressed to the taught skin between his shoulder blades.

Marcus shuts the water off and turns to you with gratitude on his tongue, but you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“You can thank me later,” you wink, slipping out of the shower to grab towels.

“Oh, now whose mind is in the gutter?”

***

He eats dinner like a man starved. He helps Missy with her math homework. He reads a bedtime story to Mira before tucking her in for the night. Then he all but collapses into bed beside you.

Sleep takes a hold of Marcus quickly, securing him firmly in its clutches. The darkness behind his closed eyelids all but consumes him, and he surrenders willingly.

***

You’re not certain which wakes you up first: the heat, the movement, the noise or the pain. Your eyes fly open in the dark as you find your senses overwhelmed all at once.

The heat is from Marcus’s proximity. He’s wrapped his body around yours, clinging tightly like Saran Wrap or a second skin. The motions shaking the bed are the product of his violent trembling.

The pain is from the iron clad grip he has on you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip with bruising force; his nails bite into the skin of your back.

And the noises, the pitiful, vaguely animalistic whines are the heartbreaking sounds of a man held captive by a horrific nightmare.

“Marcus?”

“….back….”

“Marcus, honey.”

“Give them….back….”

“Marcus, wake up.”

“You give them back to me!!”

“Marcus!”

His eyes snap open and his desperate cries dissolve into breathless pants. He unwinds himself from around you as he tries to make sense of what’s just transpired.

You grip cup his face and try to get him to focus on you, to acknowledge your presence.

“Talk to me, baby. Marcus, are you okay?”

He looks at you as if you are the dream.

“Your here?”

“Yes, Marcus. Right here.”

“W-where are the girls?”

He leaps out of bed and nearly stumbles trying to get to the bedroom door. You almost take a spill yourself chasing him.

“Where are they? Where are Missy and Mirabel? Where are my babies?!

“Marcus, shh! They’re fine. They’re in their beds fast asleep.”

“No, no! They’re—“

“They. Are. Fine.”

He sags against the wall in the hallway having been only seconds away from waking his sleeping daughters. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and takes a few deep, calming breaths.

“Marcus, you were having a nightmare,” you assure him. “What did you see in that head of yours?”

He slides all the way to the floor and you follow him down.

“I thought he took you,” Marcus recalls.

“Who, honey?”

“The guy we….we locked up today. I dreamt that he broke free and he took you and the girls.”

His voice starts to shake.

“I couldn’t find you anywhere. He took you somewhere far away and I couldn’t—“

Your hands fly to his cheeks and your lips crash into his. You feel his breaths against your mouth as they begin to steady.

“I’m right here,” you guarantee. “All of us are here with you. Because of you. Because you fought so hard to keep us all safe. And you won.”

You settle yourself against the wall beside him and pull his head gently down to rest atop your chest, and you run soothing fingers through his hair as you feel his body relax in your arms once again.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he mumbles. “Let’s get you back to bed, sweetheart.”

You simply shush him and don’t move an inch.

“Just stay put, Marcus. Let someone protect you for a change.”

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @mandolydian @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @pastel-0-princess @pedropascal207-deactivated20211 @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @just-fics-i-read @kiizhikehn-cedar @hellovanessax @fangirling-alert @pedrocentric @fromthedeskoftheraven @feralhotmess @axshadows @mandapascal @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @anaaaispunk @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @alberta-sunrise @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @bison-writes

[itsadamcole]

frenemies

fem!reader x kyle o’reilly

reader is a member of the Undisputed Era and is a guest on Adam’s stream with the rest of the boys, but there’s been a tension building between reader and Kyle that implodes while on stream ...

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angsty, full of smut (hehe), kinda fluffy at the end

— i began writing this pre-ue break up and finished it post-ue break up :) —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

Adam convinced you to come over to play video games on his stream. Accepting that offer was your first mistake. You knew Kyle would be there as soon as Adam said, "The boys and I were gonna stream today on my Twitch if you wanna join us." You should've said no, but you didn't put two and two together.

For weeks, somethings been going on with Kyle, and you don't know why. He's been acting more distant from you and when you actually talk to him, he makes short comments and barely says three words to you. You don't understand why and you've never been good at confrontation. Kyle was your closet friend in the Undisputed Era, but he's been cold toward you for weeks.

On Thursday at one, you pull up to Adam's house. Roddy's car is here but Kyle and Bobby aren't here yet. You grab your phone and turn off the car before getting out and walking up to the door. You knock three times and wait for someone to answer.

Britt Baker answers the door. "Hey! Y/N, glad you're here. I wondered if Adam invited you," she says, greeting me with a hug. "I guess you're going to be on stream, huh? You're not here to hang with me and Marina."

You laugh and say, "Maybe I'll stay a little bit after the stream is done to hang out with you and Marina. Roddy brought the whole gang over I'm guessing."

With that said, Marina appears in the foyer and says, "He did. He thought that I should hang out with Britt while the stream is going on. Troy is in the living room watching some of his father's favorite matches.:

"Of course," you say, smiling. "Let me go greet the guys and I'll sit with you guys until Adam says it's time for the stream to start."

Britt lets me walk past and I greet Marina with a hug before strolling over to Adam's game room. I can hear his voice and Roderick's voice coming from the room as I pop my head in. "Hey, losers," you say. Adam and Roddy both look at you and both men smile.

Adam says, "Hey, Y/N. I'm just explaining everything to Roddy. I'll catch you up when Bobby and Kyle get here."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Kyle. You keep a smile on your face as you say, "Great. I'm excited. What are we playing?"

"I was thinking some Wii Bowling," Adam says. "Or something Wii related. Maybe some VR games as well. I have Beat Saber, which is fun to play."

You sit in Adam's gaming chair and say, "Wii sounds fun. It's been a while since I've played Wii."

Roddy and Adam both laugh as Adam finishes up.

Bobby gets here about fifteen minutes after you and Troy run in after him, crawling onto your lap on Adam's chair. "Aunt Y/N, what are you gonna play with daddy, Uncle Adam, and Uncle Bobby?" he asks, curious. You smile and hold on on your lap.

"We haven't figured that out yet," you say. "I'll let you in on a little secret though." You lean into Troy's ear and your voice drops to a loud whisper. "I'm gonna beat your dad and your uncles."

Adam, Roddy, and Bobby all look at me and Adam goes, "Hey! I'm the professional gamer here."

You stick your tongue out at Adam and say, "I'm a professional Wii player."

Troy giggles and says, "Yeah! Aunt Y/N is gonna kick your butts."

You laugh and that's when another voice chimes in. "Who said that Aunt Y/N is gonna kick our butt?" You turn your head and look at the doorway.

Kyle. He's finally here.

"Uncle Kyle!" Troy says, scrambling off your lap and running over to Kyle. Kyle hugs the little man and picks him up.

Roderick looks at you then looks at Troy in Kyle's arms. "Alright, buddy," Roddy says. "Time to go sit with mommy and Aunt Britt. Maybe they'll give you a snack if you listen to them."

Kyle puts Troy down and he runs into the living room with Marina and Britt. Kyle closes the door behind him and turns to his Undisputed Era brothers and "bro hugs" them. Then he turns to you and you open your mouth to say something but Kyle says, "Surprised to see you here, Y/N. I didn't think Adam would invite you."

Adam looks at Kyle and says, "Bro-"

You cut Adam off and say, "I'm a member of the Undisputed Era too, Kyle. Or do you not remember saving me from an assault by Toni Storm then helping me secure the NXT Women's Championship against Io?"

Roddy, Bobby, and Adam all stare between you and Kyle as Kyle says, "You're only a member by storyline, Y/N. You're not an actual member."

Your eyes widen and Roderick jumps in saying, "Woah, Kyle. Dude, she's a member of the Undisputed Era. Storyline or not."

Adam says, "Alright before things get out of hand, let's get this stream started. You guys ready?"

Everyone nods. You keep your eyes on Kyle though, trying to figure out why he's making so many hurtful comments. Adam sits in his chair in front of the greenscreen and puts his headset on. You stand beside Roddy while Bobby and Kyle stand behind you too. Adam's going to make introductions. This is a surprise to his Twitch community that you're all going to be on. It's his 200th stream, and it was Adam's idea to bring you all onto the stream.

He looks at the camera and says, "Alright. It looks like I'm live. Is my early crew here?" He pauses and smiles. "It is the 200th stream, you're right. I have a surprise for the 200th stream but I want to wait for more people to get in here before I tell you guys what the surprise is."

You sigh and Roddy says softly, "You seem nervous, Y/N. You nervous?"

Shaking your head, you whisper, "No. I'm fine."

Adam says, "Alright. There's a decent amount of people in here now. Do you guys want to know the 200th stream surprise? It might, how do you say it, shock the system." He smirks and winks a few times at the camera before waving you over first. "Okay, so first we have Miss L/N."

You jump into the frame behind Adam and smile. "Hey," you say before glancing at the chat. "Woah, hi, everyone. Looks like chat is excited."

He laughs and says, "Y/N isn't the only surprise. We got the whole gang here. Roddy, Kyle, Bobby." The three of them join you in standing behind Adam. The chat goes wild and the viewership goes up by a couple thousand. Adam looks at the four of you behind him before looking back at his chat. "Woah, it's going by so quick. So many gifted subs and bits, holy crap."

"Is this a PG stream?" Bobby asks.

Adam nods and says, "Yeah."

You and Roddy both laugh because Bobby likes to curse so much. All of you have to remind him to stop cursing while in the ring sometimes. It's crazy how much he likes to curse, but you like to too so you can't say anything.

That's when Kyle takes his first on-stream jab at you. "Y/N, you better watch your mouth," he warns you. "Adam won't be happy if you start dropping f-bombs on his stream."

To get back at him, you say, "You better watch your mouth before I kick your butt in whatever game we're about to play."

Kyle glares at you and Adam says, "Alright, so I was thinking of games we can play and it's recently been brought to my attention that Y/N is a professional Wii player so let's put that to the test and see just how good she is. Y/N? Game options?" He looks back at you and you begin to think.

"Wii Sports," you blatantly say. "I wanna beat Kyle's butt just because I can."

The group laughs, except for Kyle. You look over at him and smirk. Roddy puts a disk into Adam's Wii console and hands remotes to all of us. Kyle doesn't get one because only four people max can play Wii Sports.

Kyle says, "What about me? I didn't get a remote."

Bobby looks at all of us as we connect our remotes then says, "Maybe you can share with Y/N. I'm sure she wouldn't mind bowling every other frame."

Mentally you groan but physically you say, "Yeah, just pick up your spares, O'Reilly." All of you pick the Miis that you made before the stream. You and Kyle are third to go, and you both decided to throw every other frame. You'd get even frames and Kyle would get odds, so he starts off the game for you both.

Roddy misses a spare in the first, Adam strikes, Kyle picks up his spare, and Bobby gutters then knocks down seven pins on the second shot.

Half the game passes and you're having fun with your doubles partner. Kyle doesn't make any snide remarks toward you and actually cheers you on when you make a spare or strike. In the eighth frame, he actually gives you a high-five.

As Kyle throws the ninth frame, you lean and whisper in Adam's ear while he's out of frame, "You set this up, didn't you? Making Kyle and I team up like this?"

Adam shrugs as Kyle strikes. You get excited and actually hug Kyle. You're now right behind Adam in scoring. Bobby has no chance at winning the game, Roddy isn't that far behind you, and you are just seven pins behind Adam.

You watch as Adam throws his tenth and final frame. He strikes and picks up his spare. Now you're twenty-seven pins behind the leader of the Undisputed Era. He threw a 156 game. You and Kyle can get a 159 if you get all three strikes in the tenth. Technically, you just need two strikes and eight pins on the third shot to beat Adam with a 157 game.

Kyle watches as you get the first strike in the tenth. He cheers for you. You sigh and get ready for your second shot. You strike again. Eight more pins and you beat Adam.

Then it happens. Kyle has had all game to do something to you and he does it just as you throw the ball. It over hooks and you only knock down three pins. You lost by four pins because Kyle decided to yell, "Let's go, Y/N" at you and he scared you so much you jumped, affecting what the ball does on the screen.

The look on Kyle's face was priceless when you turned to him. He looked terrified. "I had it, Kyle!" you shout, kind of annoyed at him. Then you snap. "You just love when I prove myself wrong, don't you? I don't get it. We were so close and all of a sudden, you start acting differently. It's like I did something to you and I don't know what I did."

"Y/N-" Kyle starts.

You cut him off and say, "Save it, O'Reilly." You shove the remote at him and leave the game room. You walk into the kitchen, needing a glass of something to keep you from absolutely losing it.

He didn't need to yell it. He could've done anything else except yell it. It scared you so much that you messed up the winning shot.

Britt and Marina walk into the kitchen and Britt asks, "What happened? You stormed out of there and you looked angry."

After chugging a glass of water, you say, "Kyle happened. Again. He's been up my ass for months and I don't know what I did to deserve this. We were like best friends and he was so excited when I joined the Undisputed Era. Now all of a sudden he's saying the only reason I'm in the group is because of storylines and he's making sure that I prove myself wrong. I say I can beat the guys and he yells something, scaring me, so I mess up the shot and losing to Adam."

Marina sighs and says, "You need to talk to him, Y/N. This pent-up frustration isn't going to do either of you any good."

"I'm not good at confrontation, Marina," you explain. "I never have been."

There are footsteps that come into the kitchen and you look behind the girls to see who it is. It's Kyle. You roll your eyes and try to ignore him even as he says, "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that it would scare you like that. I wouldn't have done it if I had thought-"

You snap and say, "You haven't been thinking, Kyle. Not recently, anyway. These comments you're making hurt me. It hurts when you tell me I'm only in the group because of a storyline when you all welcomed me into the group a few months ago."

The girls leave the room, leaving me and Kyle alone. You sip off another glass of water as Kyle says, "I felt like things were changing with us, Y/N. That's why I started acting the way I have been. I pushed you away because I was scared."

Annoyed, you ask, "Scared of what, Kyle? Scared I was going to do something that would risk our friendship? I noticed it too and I was scared too, but I didn't start making rude comments toward you." Finally, you meet Kyle's eyes. They're full of sincerity and regret.

Kyle says, "Come back to the group. I'm sorry for yelling and making you mess up your shot. I promise I'll be good."

"I don't trust you," you say. You have every right to not trust him. Every time he tells you he'll stop making comments, he does it again. He does it multiple times. "You say that then break your promise. It's happened several times at this point, Kyle."

He looks kind of hurt at your comment. Then something inside Kyle snaps and he says, "Such a hypocrite. You tell me that you'd never make hurtful comments but then you say you don't trust me."

You put the glass down and say, "Maybe you understand what I've been going through for the past few months now, Kyle." Tears sting your eyes as you stare at Kyle. "Do you know how many times I've been alone in a room after you've left and I've just cried? Do you know how many times I've wondered what I've done wrong that has made you treat me this way?"

Kyle almost shouts, "It's nothing you did, Y/N! You haven't done anything except being the kindest and the most caring human being toward me for years. I just started to fall for you and it scared the hell out of me so I just pushed you away."

Your jaw drops. You had noticed that your friendship may have been treading into the more than friends territory but you didn't know that Kyle was falling for you this entire time.

The man in front of you is the most vulnerable than he's ever been. He just told you the one thing he was terrified of telling you at risk of ruining your friendship with him.

He avoids eye contact with you as you leave your spot by the sink and walking over to Kyle, who stands on the other side of the kitchen island counter. He doesn't look at you when you approach his eyes and look up at him.

You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that you might have been falling for Kyle as he was falling for you. Kyle's always been so sweet. He cares for you and the boys, and he's never afraid to show his soft side. Sometimes that side of him shows up on television, and you're guilty of trying to coax that softer more adorable side of him out in front of the cameras.

Whenever you and Kyle would be together, it felt like the world around you stopped. Whether that was having a conversation in your shared locker room with Adam, Roddy, and Bobby or just hanging out at your apartment or his house. It was always you and him against the world, and you just want that back.

Kyle still avoids your eyes as you examine his face as he looks at his hands on the counter. You rest one of your hands on Kyle's and he finally looks over at you. He stands at almost six foot but you're at five foot six so he doesn't tower over you. It would be so easy to just lean up and kiss him.

Fuck it, you think before you grab the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. Your lips crash to his and both of you gasp as your lips make contact. You're hesitant with kissing him at first but you slowly gain confidence, pressing your lips harder to his. Kyle pulls back and looks at you, panting slightly. "I don't want your pity kisses, Y/N," Kyle says to you.

"Who said it was a pity kiss?" you question, raising your eyebrows at him as you look up at him.

He sighs and says, "Y/N-"

You shake your head and say, "No. I'm not going to let you talk yourself into it being a pity kiss because it wasn't, Kyle. It was anything but a pity kiss. If your dumbass didn't start pushing me away then it could've happened sooner."

Kyle looks down at you and says, "I don't know what you mean."

Sighing, you say, "I noticed our friendship changing too, Kyle. I mean it. I was ready for you to possibly take the next step by asking me on a date or by kissing me. Then you started treating me differently and I thought it was all in my head. Maybe if you just talked to me instead of saying hurtful comments then maybe I would have kissed you before right now."

"So," he sighs. "That wasn't a pity kiss?"

You smile and shake your head. "That wasn't a pity kiss," you confirm. You slide your hands from the collar of his shirt to his cheeks, where you cup his face. "That was the farthest thing from a pity kiss."

Kyle asks, "Do it again?"

Laughing, you get on your toes and kiss him softly. This kiss is slower but more passionate than the last. Kyle actually touches you, resting his hands on the sliver of bare skin exposed between your loose black crop top and your light blue high-waisted ripped jeans. Kyle turns and presses you against the counter before he reaches down and sits you on the counter. You hold Kyle close, scared to let him go.

Your heart races in your chest. This is everything you've wanted for so long. You've wanted to call Kyle yours for months. After today, maybe he will be.

You pull Kyle closer to you and he leans forward, almost pushing you back onto the kitchen counter. That's when you pull back and giggle, "I don't think Adam would like the fact that we're making out on his kitchen counter. I'm sure he and Britt eat here."

Kyle smiles and kisses your jaw softly before he says, "He has an extra guest room upstairs. I don't think he'd like it if we did anything in his house but I think he'd prefer a bedroom than his kitchen counter."

Smiling, you lean your head back a bit as he kisses your jaw and says, "I'd prefer a bedroom than the kitchen counter too."

"Then let's go," he says, taking your hands. You smile and hop off the counter. "We can't make a lot of noise though because Adam is doing a PG stream right now and the walls in this house aren't exactly thick."

You nod and look up at Kyle. He's almost glowing since he told you how he felt. You feel so happy that everything is out in the open. You don't like how he pushed you away instead of telling you how he felt, but you can get over that if it means that everything can go back to how it was.

Kyle smiles and walks out of the kitchen. The stairs are in the living room, which means you have to walk past Britt and Marina to go upstairs. This is going to be interesting.

You and Kyle walk into the living room hand in hand. Britt and Marina look over at the two of you and Britt's eyes widen. Marina points and says, "That was not a thing a few minutes ago."

Your face gets all flustered and you look up at Kyle. He says, "Well, it's a thing now. And if you excuse us, we need to make up for some time. Upstairs. We'll be quiet."

He leads you upstairs and Britt says, "Keep the sheets clean, please. Condoms are in the bathroom." Kyle chuckles as you both get up the stairs.

"The guys could have heard that," you gasp as you reach the top of the stairs. Kyle cups your face with his hands and presses you against the wall.

You stare up at Kyle as he says, "They'll just be jealous that I'm finally getting everything I want." You grab at Kyle's shirt and hold him close to you.

He kisses your forehead and you close your eyes, asking, "Everything?"

Kyle nods and says, "You're all I want, Y/N."

Your eyes open and you meet his eyes. His face is close to yours and you lean your head up, lips barely touching his. "You're all I want too, Kyle," you say in almost a whisper. "You're all I've wanted for months. There's a reason why there was no one else after I broke up with Murphy a few months ago. It's you. You're it for me, Kyle."

He pushes your hair back out of your face and he says, "He never treated you right, Y/N." He tilts his head, almost kissing you.

"You will?" you ask.

Kyle nods and says, "One hundred percent I will treat you better."

You grow tired of being close to Kyle without him kissing you so you get on your toes, kissing him. The kiss is quick and needy. Kyle stumbles with you to the guest bedroom and kicks the door closed with his foot. You're pressed against the door, kicking off your sneakers while Kyle runs his fingers over the exposed skin on your stomach. You shiver under his touch before you pull at his shirt. Kyle pulls back from the kiss and pulls off his shirt. You run your fingers over his tattoo and see the thing on his arm that monitors his blood sugar levels.

"Are you okay to, you know?" you ask, trailing off.

Kyle glances at his arm monitor and says, "Yeah. I took my meds and I ate so I'm okay. For at least the first round, anyway."

You giggle and say, "Mr. O'Reilly, you don't plan on keeping me for the rest of the day and the night, do you?"

He attacks your neck with kisses before he says, "One round and cuddles then we gotta join the boys to finish Adam's stream. We can negotiate what happens afterward later."

Your fingers run through Kyle's hair and you sigh, "Less talking, Kyle. Please."

Kyle smiles against your neck and walks back to the bed. You pull off your crop top, exposing your black Calvin Klein bra. Kyle's eyes are on your body as he sits on the bed. He kisses your stomach and unbuttons the jeans you're wearing and you watch his fingers. He pulls the jeans down, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

You slide down to your knees in front of him and pull down his loose sports shorts, leaving him in his boxers. You look up at him with innocent eyes and run your fingers over the bulge in his underwear. He sighs softly and leans back on his hands.

It's been a while since you've been with someone, but it's Kyle. Your nerves were shot just kissing him.

Kyle says, "I can see the wheels turning in your head, Y/N. If you don't want to do anything then we don't have to."

You say, "I want to. I want ... you."

He sits back up and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he says, "You have me."

With that finally said, you smile and leave soft kisses on his knee and thigh. Kyle smiles and you trace over his hardened member in his boxers for a second before you hook your fingers in the waistband. You hesitate for a second before you pull the thin fabric off his body. His erect dick pops out and you gasp at the sight. He's bigger than you thought it was, but you definitely won't complain about it. "Shit," you sigh.

Kyle laughs and watches you. You take his member in your hand and stroke him a few times. Kyle whines softly and lays on his back as you kiss the tip. You nestle yourself between his knees as he legs hang off the bed. Slowly, you begin to take him in your mouth. Kyle gasps and runs his fingers through your hair. Your hands move to his thighs as you bob your head up and down, sucking occasionally.

Soft noises leave Kyle's lips and they go straight to your core. You slip one of your hands into your panties, rubbing yourself to relieve yourself a bit. You moan softly and Kyle gasps, "Keep doing that and I don't think I'll last as long as we both want."

You slowly pull away from Kyle's member, wiping away some saliva that has rolled down your chin as you sucked Kyle off. Kyle sits up and kisses you hard. His hands are on your face as he pulls you up. You straddle his waist and he rolls so he's hovering over you, not breaking the kiss. Your tongue slips into Kyle's mouth as the kiss intensifies.

Kyle's fingers slide down your body until they get to the waistband of your panties. He hesitates before you take his hand and guide it into your underwear. His fingers make contact with your slick folds and you gasp. Kyle pulls back from the kiss and says, "Already so wet for me, baby."

"Only for you," you gasp as his pointer fingers circles your sensitive clit. Kyle kisses down your body and pulls off your panties. He throws your legs over his shoulders and your core is completely exposed to him.

He kisses your inner thighs, close to your soaked sex. You whine and look down at Kyle. He kisses closer to your core. You shiver with anticipation as he finally runs a finger through your folds. You gasp and lay your head back on the bed. "Kyle," you sigh. "Please. I've waited long enough. Tease me later."

Kyle looks up at you and asks, "So there will be a later?"

You look down at him between your legs and you say, "Only if you do something now and don't tease me."

He bites his lip softly for a second before he finally dives in, kissing and sucking on your clit. You let out a soft moan as his tongue circles the sensitive bud. You grasp onto the blankets and smile as he makes you feel euphoric and full of bliss. His finger dips into you and you gasp, not expecting that. Kyle moves his finger in and out of you as you are pulled closer to an orgasm.

Once Kyle adds a second finger and continues to suck on your clit, it's basically over for you. Your legs shake as you are literally seconds away from your pending orgasm. "Kyle," you cry out as he curls his fingers slightly. "Kyle, baby, I'm about to cum."

"Let me taste you, Y/N," he says before continuing to suck on your clit.

Seconds later, your toes curl and you cry out Kyle's name as you release all over his fingers. Kyle hums softly as he tastes your juices and cum. You pant as he gets on his knees and licks his lips. You watch him and try to catch your breath.

He made you cum in minutes just from his mouth and fingers. You begin to wonder how long you'll last when he finally fucks you.

You sit up and leave a few soft kisses on Kyle's chest. Your hands are on the side of his body, holding him close to you. Kyle runs his fingers through your hair and says, "I need to grab something, Y/N, and you need to let me go so I can go get it." Pouting, you let him go and he climbs off the bed. "I promise I'll be quick." He leans down and pecks your lips before putting on his boxers and walking out of the room. You scootch back on the bed a bit as you bite your lip gently.

Kyle returns with a little silver package and closes the door. He walks toward you on the bed but you say, "Lose the boxers before you get on this bed, O'Reilly."

"So demanding," Kyle teases, stripping out of his boxer shorts. "I kinda like it."

Smirking as he crawls toward you, you giggle, "You would." Kyle smiles and hovers over you as you lean back so you're laying on your back. Your hands cup Kyle's face and you stare up at him.

His eyes scan your naked body beneath him and you get a little self-conscious. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," Kyle sighs. "I don't know how I went this long without touching you or kissing you. I really was a dumbass, wasn't I?"

You say, "You were, but I can forgive you for that." You smile and lean up, kissing Kyle. He props himself up on his arms and kisses you back. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

Kyle pulls back from the kiss after a second before he opens the little package. He slides the contents on himself and you watch as he hovers over you again.

Kyle kisses you and you quickly slip your tongue into his mouth. You smile against his lips and you feel his tip run through your folds. You sigh and slide your fingers into his hair.

You hold Kyle close before he pulls back and asks, “Are you sure you want this?”

Nodding, you say, “I want this. Please.”

He smiles and he sets himself up at your entrance. You take one of his hands and hold it as he slides into you. You whine and gasp as his length fills you. Your eyes squeeze shut and Kyle asks, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m okay. Keep going.”

Kyle continues to slowly slide himself into you. You grip his hand until he’s completely inside of you. He lets you adjust and you nod when you’re ready for him to move.

He begins to thrust slowly, making you sigh softly. You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him close as he picks up speed.

Soon, the room is filled with your moans and the sound of skin slapping. Kyle’s thrusts are hard and fast into you. His lips are on yours as he tries to silence your moans.

His lips leave yours and attach to your neck. Your back arches off the bed and you sigh, “God, you make me feel so good. I love how good you make me feel.”

Kyle mumbles, “I love you, Y/N.”

You smile after Kyle’s words. His tip finds your g-spot and you cry out, “Fuck, right there. Oh, God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I would never even think of stopping,” Kyle pants as he fucks you.

Moments later, your legs begin to shake and a pit forms in your stomach. Your lips are on Kyle’s again, passionately kissing him as he thrusts hard into you.

Kyle’s movements get sloppier and your whole body seems to shake as you’re pulled closer to an orgasm.

You whine, “Kyle.”

He says, “Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you cum again for me.”

Soft whines and moans pass your lips as the pit in your stomach bottoms out and you release on Kyle’s length inside you. He cums into the condom. He helps you both ride out your highs before he collapses onto you.

Both of you are sweaty and panting as you recover. Kyle smiles and buries his face into your neck.

“Worth the wait,” he pants.

You giggle and look at him. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” you ask.

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes before he says, “Of course I did. I’ve been falling in love with you for weeks. I didn’t just say it and didn’t mean it, Y/N. I would never say it and not mean it.”

You lean your head up and peck his lips before you say, “I love you too, Kyle. Does this mean that we’re together?”

Kyle smiles and says, “Let me take you out on an official date then we’ll talk about it.”

[blarrghe]

Hi! I'm going to go for a dramatic one for the cliché prompts: "You’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up" for Fenders (or whoever you prefer) if that works for you <3

I’m on a bit of a Dorianders kick and can’t seem to stop, so thank you very much for the prompt but I went a bit off book with it... hope that’s alright w you.

I altered this a little to “Dorian’s father is asleep on his deathbed and he confesses all his pent up feelings only for Anders to walk in”

So that’s um, how modern au Resident!Anders and Politician!Dorian met. It got a bit long and is very very angsty.

Summary: Anders is a resident working rough hours at a hospital (in Tevinter?? look this is just going to be a series of ficlets I have not worked out the details yet), struggling with his medical debts and work-related sleep deprivation. Dorian is an idealistic politician working his way out of his recently deceased father's shadow. They meet when Anders is attending to his father on his death bed, and things go from there, I guess.

--

Anders took a deep breath. With it, the something hissing over his heart settled down to a whisper. The hospital always beset him with inner whispers; not a good feeling, but one that compelled him on, nevertheless. Pediatrics hit the hardest, the injustice of it all, but being there also kept his mind steady. Doing something. Critical Care was different. There wasn't usually a lot he could do, in the Critical Care wing. And his rounds today had him facing that patient, the one for whom there was nothing to be done, and who set his obsessively helpful spirit into split ends, because he was also an absolute asshole. When Anders was in a room with him, under steely eyes and the cracking whip of his tongue, the disease in him felt deserved, and some part of Anders burned like blue fire, so hot it took biting his cheek bloody to restrain his bedside manner from bad attitudes. The disease is never deserved, he reminded himself and the licks of flame that still remembered the patient's rude barkings from last time. Even in rich men who in life had been given much more than they ever did deserve, a death like this one was still a hard death, and people who are dying are allowed to die angry. So he took another deep breath, because dealing with some patients just needed that much more breathing, but he could still do his job. And that was the job; to be there, at the end, for anyone.

He was getting worse, sleeping more. It wouldn't be long now, and Anders tried not to be relieved. He checked his charts, his monitors, the IVs still barely holding him up. Increased the morphine, for his pain, and finished without saying a word. For a moment, he almost missed it; at least when the man was swearing at him and ranting in indecipherably bigoted tirades, he was lively. He sighed, staying the extra moment to offer the man's sallow cheeks a sympathetic glance. Death was a natural part of life, and he was old, and an asshole, and maybe he didn't deserve it but... soon the bed would be free again, and that would be alright.

When he turned to leave, there was a dark figure sitting on the bench in the hall outside. He was reading a magazine but not flipping the pages, one leg crossed over the other in the stiff posture of someone who is uncomfortably waiting for uncomfortable news. One of the family. Anders took another deep breath. He hadn't had dealings with the wife, but he'd overheard them well enough. An unpleasant woman for an unpleasant man, trying to buy off death and then trying to kick the whole hospital down with her complaining when she couldn't. If the man waiting outside now took after either of them, his shift was about to get a whole lot worse.

He stepped out into the hall, and the man looked up from his magazine. His features were striking, sculpted. Skin the deep, radiant bronze that Anders was sure his father's would have been, back in his youth before misery and disease stole its colour. And he was, unmistakably now, his asshole patient's son; same steely grey eyes, right down to the faint creases beside them, and just as unfeeling.

"Are you his doctor?"

Usually, that question, asked at this point in the process of losing someone, was croaked out. But the son didn't croak, he asked his question with a continued lack of feeling, and a bit of impatience.

"Not his attending, only a resident. I can page the doctor, if you'd like,"

"No, that's fine. Can you just tell me how long?" The man stood up, tall. Much taller than the way people usually stood in hospital corridors; poised and proud in his posture — not actually taller than Anders, but he felt it. Still a little stiff maybe, but anything uncomfortable was covered up by how well he fit into his suit; smooth and black and clinging to his body like it was made to hold him. Anders blinked, "how long he has," the son clarified unnecessarily, still coolly impatient, "I have places to be, you see."

His eyes wandered past Anders, hesitating over the window to the room where his father lay dying, then snapping back again. Not entirely unfeeling after all, but the sadness in them was troubled by something else, still indecipherable. Anders wondered what kind of relationship a son could have with a father — a father like that — for so many secrets to be buried in that glance.

Anders swallowed. No he didn't, he decided, but the thing that whispered care into his heart was wondering, catching onto the well-hidden glimpse of feeling in the man, craving already to comfort the rest.

"A few days, maybe." He answered, gentle with the news. The son nodded once. "You should say your goodbyes."

The son was looking past him again, back through the window at the sleeping form of his father, more unhappy secrets set into his jaw. Anders watched the jaw tense, and stay there.

"In a few days, maybe." Replied the man, though he barely moved his tense jaw to say it. "He's awake."

Anders turned to follow the man's eyes, landing his own gaze on a twitching hand and barely moving bedsheets. He didnt look back again before darting into the room to offer his patient care.

"Dorian?" Croaked the patient, steely grey eyes opening to scan his face, and then closing in apparent disappointment.

"Your son? He's right outside, I'll —" but he wasn't. The tall, statuesque man was gone, the magazine left lying open on the bench outside in an empty white hallway. "I'm sure he'll be back soon." Anders amended, attempting to offer a bright spot of hope. His patient grunted.

Anders took a step away from the bedside, but as he did a thin, wrinkled hand shot out, and grabbed him by the wrist. The cold, unfeeling eyes opened, except now they were sad. "A word of advice, if you don’t want to be disappointed in life, don't have children." Even breathy and hoarse, he managed to give his voice bite. Then his asshole patient's gaze fell on the little gold earring hanging from Anders’ ear, and he coughed. Anders took a deep breath in preparation for another insult, and to help him recover from the bit of unfriendly advice. "You're lucky they don't let you people have them."

Anders tried not to sigh. The dying are allowed to die angry. "I'm sure he'll be back." He said again.

----

Dorian. The name stuck to him almost as well as his tight black trousers, and Anders couldn't help but turn it over a few times in his mouth after he left the room. He made the rest of his rounds, and checked back in on father-of-the-year Pavus a few more times, lying to himself about what he was hoping to find. Dorian. He never did come back though, not during visiting hours of that day, nor the day after. On the third day things weren't looking well, and Bride of Asshole Pavus had alerted everyone on staff to the fact that it was their fault, even the poor janitors. The bed would probably be free again by the end of his shift.

He made his rounds, thinking as little about that particular patient and his particularly unpleasant wife as he could, trying to tell his inner whisperings that it wasn't worth being sad over, even if the son never said goodbye. Maybe he didn't deserve one, how could Anders judge? (Everyone deserves one). Under his breath, Anders told himself to shush. (If not for the father's sake, then for his own). Again, shush. Then, through the too-thin walls and slightly ajar door as he made his way down the glaringly white hallway, Anders heard muttering. Sad, broken, angry muttering. He stopped.

" —I don't want it." the phrase was repeated a few times, some utterings angry, others sad, all of them broken. "I don't want your life. I don't want to be you. I don't —" Dorian. Dorian choking on a sob. Anders took a step back, careful about the squeak of his shoes. "I don't even know why I —" he tried not to listen in (no you didn't), but the door was ajar. "Everything. I could become everything you ever asked of me and it would still never be enough, so I don't know why I— I —" there was another heartwrenching choke to a stop, then a gutteral sound of frustration that Anders could feel in his own gut. "Just once. You couldn't say it just once?" It sounded like the kind of question he wouldn't be getting an answer to even if the man were conscious. "I'm sorry." Anders felt that in his gut too, and the thing he was trying to keep quiet inside him wondered if the words were from Dorian to his father, or the ones Dorian was begging his unconscious body for, or both.

In hospital rooms, the sound of beeping monitors disappeared into the fray. Wheels on stretchers trundling down the halls, squeaking shoes on linoleum, ventilators whirring and monitors beeping. They only sounded like anything when they stopped, and let out that one long note to signify the end. Dorian choked out his apology several more times, once sad, once angry, always desperate, and then the monitor stopped beeping, drowning out his gasps for air with its ending, and Anders had to do his job. He walked in.

Dorian shot up. Hands swiping at his red eyes and posture somehow rising without even a hint of hunch, and Anders pretended poorly not to see any of it. The attending came, procedures were followed, and Dorian disappeared into the waiting room like he was supposed to, without a look back.

The wife was gone by the time Anders poked his head into the waiting room. It wasn't his job to tell the family, and the news had long been shared, but something told him to peek in anyway. He took another deep breath when he saw him — this family really seemed bent on messing with his breathing — sitting, one long leg crossed over the other, staring down a terrible cup of coffee, not drinking it. He sat straight, his skin shone, his suit fit him like a glove and not a hair on his head was out of place, but he looked tired. Dorian. Anders approached cautiously. It would be a while before the family could take the body, and he should go home, rest. He told him as much, to a response of slow nods. Then Dorian looked up from his coffee, eyes emotionless except for the fact that they were lined in watery red.

"I'm just waiting for my mother to finish hounding her lawyers," he said, and despite himself Anders looked about nervously, "she's not here, don't worry. She left for home an hour ago. If I wait another, she'll have tired herself out and passed out under a bottle of wine." He sighed heavily, "could use one myself, but to be honest with you I don't quite feel like going home." His eyes flicked up into Anders' with a dim light of mischief, and Anders wondered what his looks could do for him on a good day. Things Anders could never hope to achieve, no doubt.

Anders offered him the carefully crafted soft smile he reserved for these kinds of things, and said “sorry for your loss” with just a touch more feeling than most patients’ families received, since the man looked like he needed it. 

“Can’t say the same to you I suppose,” Dorian replied, shaking his head, “though I am sorry.”

Anders opened his mouth, struggled to find anything to do with it, and then closed it again. 

“For my mother,” Dorian explained as he put the coffee cup he was still holding down on the low table in front of the chair he was decorating, apparently giving up any semblance of drinking it, “I’m sure his care was better than he deserved, but she doesn’t do well in situations she can’t control. It won’t come to anything.” 

Anders nodded slowly. Better than he deserved? A phrase Anders might have thought himself, over the past few weeks of dealing with the irate patient as he approached death’s door, but now that he’d gone through it, something about the sentiment irked him.

“Everyone deserves compassionate care,” he corrected with another careful smile, “the best chance we can give, and comfort when that’s spent. No less.” 

The response did something odd to Dorian’s face; first a sigh, then it transmuted itself into a strangled sort of laugh, while he shook his head and regarded Anders with still-dull eyes. “Well, it can’t have been easy,” he muttered, eyes landing on Anders’ soft smile, which he hoped was still there. “Thank you.” 

Anders left him then, offering one more nod and smile before turning away to finish the rest of his shift. Two hours later, changed out of his scrubs and into his tattered old jacket over his tattered old t-shirt and jeans, he walked by the waiting room again, on his way out. Dorian was still there, still staring down that same cup of undrunk coffee. 

“Mr. Pavus, ser?” 

Dorian started at the sound, and looked up from the coffee with an almost angry light in his icy eyes. “Please, Maker, call me anything but that.” 

Anders swallowed. “It’s — it’s Dorian, isn’t it?” Dorian nodded, “Dorian,” saying his name to his face felt wrong, somehow, “it’s getting rather late, is there someone I should call for you?” 

Dorian shook his head. “No,” he sighed. “Are there any bars nearby? A really terrible one, preferably.” 

Anders frowned, but there was a pretty terrible bar just across the street, stuck into a hole in the wall of an alley, with grimy old barstools and floors littered in peanut shells, so he told him so. Dorian stood, always so tall. 

“Thank you, Doctor…” 

“Anders,” he attempted a smile, but there was a good deal too much worry in it, he was sure, “just Anders; I’m off duty.” 

Dorian turned from him, then suddenly turned back. “Would you care for a drink, Anders?” 

Anders blinked. “I uh —” 

“You’ve seen the last of what was undoubtedly your worst patient today, haven’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t plan to celebrate.” 

His brows creased unhappily, all on their own, and something inside him whispered back the memory of that broken bedside apology. “I wouldn’t —” 

“You should. I aim to. On me?” There was that light of mischief again, a little brighter, coupled with what could almost be a smirk. Maker, was he flirting? 

“I don’t drink.” 

Dorian frowned, and Anders almost wished he did. “A bowl of peanuts on me, then.” Dorian amended his offer with a shrug. And for some unknown reason, Anders nodded. 

“Alright.” 

[moss-sauce]

day late, but here’s OCtober 31, reunion. not as angsty as it seems.

Max is gone.

Max has been gone.

For weeks.

Is she worrying? Fretting? Should I have at least notified her, somehow?

“Get your mind out of the gutter, child,” Cas chides to her. “You couldn’t have done anything.” She tries to soothe her worries.

“I still shoulda said something, though.” Max frowns, worrying a buckle between her fingers. “Instead I just went radio silent on her.”

“She’ll understand.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Max blurts. “What if she’s mad at me now? What if she hates me for worrying her? What if she doesn’t want to see me anymore, because she’ll think I’m prone to zoning out for four weeks at a time without letting her know I’m alright?”

“Maxis,” Cas tries to interrupt.

“She’s almost guaranteed to be mad. I don’t blame her. ‘Hey, I know I’m a big part of your life and all, but do you mind if I just vanish for a month?’”

“Maxis,” Cas tries again.

Hush watches worriedly from the seat across from her Operator. Maxis is prone to fretting, but it’s never been this bad. Trouvaille perches in the seat adjacent to the worried child soldier, following her flailig hand gestures with watchful eyes.

“God, what if I messed it up?” Max sighs. “What if I messed us up?”

“Maxis!” Cas snaps. “Apologies for the outburst, but by the Void, child, you’re hard to derail when you get going.”

“S’rry,” Max mutters.

“Don’t be. Anyways, I sincerely doubt Tinleah is going to be in any way upset at you for what you had to do. You had no choice.”

“But--”

“No buts. I have some…’intelligence from a reliable source’ that says quite the contrary.”

“Uh huh?”

“Yes. This source says Tinleah is worried, but that’s expected. But-- she is not angry at you, or with you, or anything of the likes.”

“What’s your source? How reliable?”

“Very.”

“Who?”

Cas crumples. “Solise.”

Hush trills internally. This would ease Max’s mind, for sure.

“You’ve been talking to Solise?” Max asks incredulously.

“Over a secure, private, very-heavily guarded link, yes.”

“Tell her to tell Tinleah I’m okay! Tell her to tell Tin that I’m almost back!”

“She is already aware of it.”

“So, she isn’t mad? Like, at all?”

“Far from it.”

Hush claps her hands together, mimicking a world-rocking hug.

Max sighs in relief. “Thank Gods. I dunno what I’d do with a war-bent Tin after my hide for something like that.”

---

“Maxis Morgenne, you scared me nearly to death!”

Oh, this was serious. Very rarely was Maxis’ last nominer brought into a situation. Hush frets.

Tinleah practically bursts out of Datura at mach speed, barreling into her partner.

“Sorry,” Max wheezes meekly.

“Don’t be sorry! But also, be sorry for worrying your girlfriend so badly!”

“Sorry?” Max wheezes again.

“I know you didn’t have a choice,” Tinleah takes Max’s face in her palms. “I know you couldn’t do anything about what happened. But I still worried. I’m not mad.”

Max flushes.

Hush giggles.

Trouvaille runs rampant around the four of them, tearing up clumps of dirt with his claws in his frenzy.

“Gods, girl, what were you even doing?” Tinleah squishes her palms together to compress Max’s face.

“Recon,” Max mumbles. “Long recon. High-risk recon. We couldn’t speak to anyone else outside of the Hounds that whole time.”

“Gosh, you managed to last that long with Buffy?” Tin giggles.

“Barely.” Max rolls her bright green eyes. “Was ready t’strangle him by the end. I can only handle so much.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay, though.” Tin squeezes Maxis in a tight hug. “Lord, did I worry, but Solise isn’t that subtle at letting me know she has word that you’re doing okay.”

“Yeah, Cas was, apparently. I didn’t find out until today that she’d been talking with y’all.”

Tinleah snorts suddenly. “Y’all.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ye’h.”

“You’re lucky I’m okay with ridiculous. And muddy kubrows.” She throws a glare to Trouvaille. “And smartass Warframes.” She throws another look to Hush, winking.

[ohstardust]

Rose Coloured Boy - [5/11]

Summary: Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x OFC Word Count: 3.8k Masterlist / Story Background / Playlist / AO3  A/N: Sebastian & Eleanor are finally having the reconciliation talk and I’m so here for the angst. Also, I need a Chace-esque friend in my life.  Part 4 // Part 6 

AUGUST 2011 Everything about this situation should have felt far stranger than it did, and considering it did indeed feel rather bizarre, that was really saying something. A mere two weeks had passed since Damon’s birthday, just two weeks since Sebastian had sauntered back into Eleanor’s life, yet here she was, downing Sambuca shots at his birthday function, wondering why on earth she was here at all. As far as she was concerned, she shouldn’t be. Sebastian had been rather insistent though, acting relatively nonchalant about it to his friends, not taking into account how they’d known him far too long, and knew him too well, to let the shrug of his shoulders throw them off the true force of him extending their invites to Eleanor. It was evident it meant a great deal to him for her to be there. But Eleanor wasn’t exactly sure why.

if she was to be honest with herself, seeing him again after all of these years, had sent her head spinning, and she felt more guilty, and terrible, than she had throughout the time following her disappearance. All she wanted to do was have a sit down conversation with him, explain what had happened and try to make him see her teenage motivations, she owed that to the both of them. But she was ashamed, and too tremendously nervous to even approach him, let alone invite him to lunch for a perhaps involuntary walk down memory lane. So, instead of confronting her fears head on, she downed as many shots as possible and took whatever hard spirit she could get her hands on. Eleanor had spent the better part of half an hour trying to casually glance in his direction, aiming to be as discreet as possible which was an utter shit show considering the amount of alcohol she’d knocked back. Her body was loose and her eyes were wandering despite the conversation she was in the middle of with Lisa and Sasha. He looked really well; his face, and body, had slimmed down, his smile was as bright as she’d known it to be, and his confidence had grown a considerable amount since college. But she could still see through the facade he put up as he commandeered a room full of people. She didn’t remember him looking quite as stunning as he did now and that thought haunted her. This was dangerous territory, all things considered. “Earth to Eleanor.” “Shit sorry, Lis, what were you saying?” “I don’t think it matters, it seems you’re far more interested in the birthday boy.” She shrugged her shoulders and grimaced at her friends, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure sure honey,” Lisa smirked over at Sebastian and back to Eleanor, “whatever you say.” “How are you doing after the whole- y’know - situation.” Sasha nervously glanced at her friend, stomach sinking a little when she watched the older woman shift uncomfortably, throwing back another shot and wincing. “If you’re referring to Rhys then I’m feeling pretty dire actually,” she coughed and cleared her throat, her eyes downcast as she fiddled with a charm on her bracelet, the sharp edges pressed into the pads of her fingers for a moment, “I get it, I really do, but it doesn’t hurt any less. Still feel like I’ve been winded.” The thing with Rhys was, he’d been the longest standing boyfriend she’d had to date. It had only been nine months, one month longer than than her last relationship had been, but she connected with him, really connected with him, far more than she had with the others and she felt more heartbroken and cut up than the combination of all her past, failed relationships. I’m twenty-nine years old, she’d cried to Damon last week, is this how it’s always going to be? A short in-between relationship? “When does he leave?” “Tomorrow, he’s catching the four thirty-five pm flight from JFK.” “Are you going to say goodbye?” “We thought it was best not to, everything we had to say has already been said. I’d only say something stupid to stop him leaving anyway, and there’s no use. He needs a new life, not me. I’ve made my peace with that.” “What’s the next step?” “Pay more attention to the relationships I still have, work on the ones that need mending,” she caught Sebastian’s gaze and they raised their glasses in celebration as they exchanged small smiles, “Or I could just get utterly trashed and pass out in the bathroom. I’m good either way.” *-*-*-*-*-* Chace dragged her to brunch a few days after the party. His concern with her break-up was increasing tenfold and, although he didn’t want to push the situation that was surrounding them, regarding their mutual Romanian friend, he figured the older man could pull her out of her sour mood if they were given the chance to hang-out. Besides, he’d missed the other man, months having passed by since they’d been able to catch up properly, without loud thumping music, too many people or a quick phone call. He told himself he wasn’t there just to be the buffer between the two - he wanted to spend time with his friends - he definitely wasn’t using himself as an excuse. Eleanor wasn’t so easily convinced. “You don’t have to hash all this shit out today, okay? I just thought it would be cool for us to hang out together, and maybe you two can talk,” she raised her head to glare at him, a sour expression overtaking her face and took interest in the magazine between her fingers, again, “fine, make small talk then.” “Better bring a knife, ‘cause there’ll be plenty of tension to cut,” she sassed as he plucked the offending article from her hands and flung it on the coffee table. Chace was all too familiar with the stubborn nature of his friend, had been on the receiving end of her foul moods more times than he cares to remember, but he matched her in his persistence and wasn’t likely to take no for an answer from her when he had her best interests at heart. They both loved their friends equally; would bail them out of jail, pay an extortionate ransom  to save their lives, would lie in the gutter with them at four am after a ridiculous night out, would risk themselves for the sake of the others to keep them out of harms way, but beneath it all that, Eleanor & Chace had a special bond, a connection that had them both migrating together and the Brit likes to think he’s the sibling she never had. “Fine, fine. I’m going,” she locked the apartment door behind them and dragged her light denim jacket over her arms, grimacing at the man and pulled her hair loose from her collar. “Stop being a Bitter Betty for two minutes and deal with this, you’ll thank me later.” Small talk with your former best friend is as horrible as it sounds. Fifteen minutes into the relatively stilted conversation, Eleanor debated excusing herself to head to the bathroom to make a hasty escape through the window, but this wasn’t some ridiculous rom-com that would resolve itself after a tongue-in-cheek failed escape and a mildly angsty shouted explanation and apology, this was her life and she knew full well she had to be a woman about this and suck it up, guilt and awkwardness be damned. She was the picture of small smiles and politeness, interjecting in the conversation where necessary, enough to not be considered rude, and hoped it would suffice for the men in her company. Chace wasn’t stupid though, and he wouldn’t allow her to sit there with little engagement, that hadn’t been his plan or what he’d wanted to happen. He began telling silly tales from the past year, all hilarious and mildly embarrassing (mostly on Eleanor’s part) until she began to whine and pout like a child and correct him when his storytelling went intentionally awry. She flung her arm out and smacked his chest, grinning as he barked out a slight winded laugh, “Don’t listen to a word he says, Seb. He doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.” “So I’ve noticed, he’s all talk, isn’t he?” The older of the two men laughed behind his hand, comically whispering loudly to her, glancing over at the Texan who did his best to not appear bemused. And just like that she felt the tension slipping away, almost like he’d been waiting for her to be the one to break the resolve, to slice through the top hardened layers of awkwardness until it hit common ground and lightness. Eleanor snickered and nodded, one elbow bent on the table to prop up her chin and the other hand patting the younger’s bicep, “That’s our Chace.” “He’s a character, that’s for sure.” “Thanks man, knew I could count on you.” “Idiot.” Eleanor stated fondly. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* SEPTEMBER 2011 ‘Hi Sebastian, it’s Eleanor. I hope you don’t mind Chace giving me your number, I just wanted to see if you’d maybe like to meet me for lunch? We have a lot to talk about and I want to try and clear the air between us. I understand if you don’t want to, but please let me know either way.’ The tone of her text message to Sebastian felt so foreign and wrong, it was too formal and uncomfortable to be sending to someone who spent too many years being her best friend, who knew too much of her early life to deal with formalities, but she constantly reminded herself that they weren’t those people anymore, and she had no right to keep a jovial and light tone with him these days. She’d have to earn that again - if he allowed her to that is. She’d busied herself for a few hours, following her sent message, and, for the most part, her apartment was gleaming. Her head was buried in the oven as she worked the scrubbing brush over the appliance, the scratching and scraping of the bristles was almost loud enough to distract her from the ping of her phone, but she’d faintly heard it, the sound echoing louder and louder in her head as she began to think of a hundred things Sebastian could have responded with. And then she began to fuss over the idea that it wasn’t him at all, so she stayed scrubbing for a while longer and hummed along to the radio to block out the noise in her head. Eleanor was borderline embarrassed by her behaviour that afternoon, her lack of being able to remain calm and adult-like within this situation had her scowling at herself in the bathroom mirror in annoyance, “You’re an idiot, Egan, pull yourself together woman.” A steaming mug of tea sat on her coffee table begging to be refilled whilst her phone sat mockingly beside it. She spent a moment or two trying to focus on the television set, and some idle programme that was playing, but it was no use, she needed to rip the band-aid off and deal with whatever fate Sebastian had chosen for them. She tried to carefully pull on the cup despite her slightly shaking hands, hissing as the hot liquid sloshed over the rim and settled on her bare legs, and pulled it to her chest, curling into the arm of the sofa with her phone in her other hand. ‘Hey El. No no it’s fine, lunch sounds good, 1pm tomorrow at The Distillery?’ ’Sounds perfect, see you tomorrow’ “Is this as weird for you as it is for me?” She huffed out a laugh and wiped her palms along the thighs of her jeans, fidgety and anxious and wondering what had possessed her to deem this a good idea. They’d been inside the restaurant for five minutes and she already wanted to bolt, she’d felt that the moment she’d walked through the door and found Sebastian sat at a table, thumbing through his phone with an apprehensive expression. He’d slowly placed it on the tabletop the second he noticed her and slipped her a soft smile that lightly pulled on the corner of his eyes. Sebastian had always been that person to ground her, but he was suddenly making her feel flighty and her stomach churned at the shift of his role. “Well it’s not feeling all too normal for me, so I’m going to say yes.” “I didn’t mean for this to be awkward, I’m sorry.” His tongue wet his lips and he folded his arms to rest on the table, his body arching forward, “It’s not awkward, I’m just still trying to process you being here again.” “I really fucked up.” “You’re telling me,” he huffed out a laugh and shook his head, “for years I wanted an explanation, I mean I still do, of course I do, but I don’t know how much it matters now.” “Please don’t say that,” she weakly pleaded, not prepared for his nonchalance, “of course it still matters, isn’t that why you’re here?” “I guess so.” “Look - Seb- Sebastian - I don’t want you to feel obligated to try with me, I understand if you want nothing to do with me at all, but I’m not willing to walk away from our friends just to make it easy for us. It sounds selfish, I get that, and maybe ten years ago I would have walked away just to avoid conflict, but I’m not that person anymore and it’s important that you know that, I need you to know that it’s not because I don’t care, it’s much the opposite.” “Christ, I don’t feel obligated, Eleanor,” his eyes softened and she felt herself sinking when his hand touched the inner of her elbow to reassure her, stop her from running, “sure- I was surprised when I first saw you, I didn’t think I would again, and I felt conflicted for a bit - it was just unexpected, that’s all. It’s been a really long time and I’d adjusted to life without you. But I’m willing to bet that this isn’t just some coincidence that we’ve crossed paths again, you’ve gotta be here for a reason. I have the chance to know you again, and that means something to me.” “It shouldn’t do, you have every right to hate me, I’m not naive to think otherwise.” “I won’t ever hate you, and y’know that really. I just wanna know why you gave up on me. On us. I just - I want to know what I did wrong, El.” Eleanor all but gasped at his words, they felt like a punch to the stomach and she was momentarily winded, of all the scenarios she’d mulled over, his self-blame was not something she’d contemplated, because she hadn’t blamed him. Not much at least. “It wasn’t - ever - it was never your fault, Seb, not at all. And I didn’t give up on you. It was never like that.” His voice became more frustrated as she skirted the conversation, the lack of answers was starting to wear him down. He lowered his head more to take a good look at her, his eyes sought her out and he wanted her to feel the extent of aggravation because he supposed she did somewhat deserve it. “Then what was it like? One minute my best friend was living in the city, the happiest I think I’d ever seen her, we were still as close as we had ever been - or at least I thought we were - and then the next minute she leaves for England, so closed off that she doesn’t speak to me for almost ten years. There wasn’t any real warning, it was all and then nothing,” he sighed and scrubbed his palm over his face, fingers digging into his closed eyes, “one day I had you and the next I didn’t.” There was a medium pause whilst she collected her words, tried to find the right way to tell him, to make him see her reasoning even if she questioned and doubted it herself, “I’ve thought about it so many times since then and nothing makes sense - at least not properly, and it always sounds so stupid - but it all became too much. Life became too much. Conflicting time zones, missed phone calls, unanswered emails - everything felt different and it felt like the end before I’d even decided to call it quits. There were times when our calls were inconvenient, you were busy with your friends, and I didn’t want to begrudge you that happiness, but it made me miss you more and I felt so lonely being away from you. At one point I didn’t know if I was even going to return, I thought about dropping out of NYU and staying with my family.” “I tried so hard to give you as much of my time as you wanted, I didn’t want you to feel that way.” “I know, and that’s why I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of this, because you’re not at fault. My anxiety just grew worse and I allowed it to get the better of me, I thought too much about how well you were doing with school and it felt inevitable that you’d move on without me sooner or later - it’s unfair to think that of you, trust me I know. I know-knew - you better than that, but that felt feasible at the time. You don’t know how much I’ve agonised over the ever since. But the space felt too much, for the first time in our friendship it felt like hard work and it shouldn’t have done. All I thought was it’s never going to get easier, even when we’re in the same city again. We were too dependent on each other, too close for that to not matter. In some ways it felt like a relationship. I felt like all I’d do was hold you back, you didn’t need to be hanging on, waiting for me to come home, at the time it felt like it was the best course of action for us both. I thought it was what we needed.” “But you didn’t give me that choice, El!” He barked out an exasperated whisper to avoid drawing attention. Sebastian had always had the most expressive eyes of all of the people Eleanor had known, his emotions lay right within them and the look he gave her had her understanding the extent of her selfish actions far better than his words ever could. They’d softened and looked awfully sad, she hadn’t expected him to feel this way after a decade, hadn’t realised she’d meant quite that much to him, or to anyone for that matter. “You should never have taken that choice away from me, you took the one constant thing in my life away from me, that anchor, and I felt like I was floating around, not knowing what the fuck was going on or whether you were okay.” Her voice lowered and cracked, “I know, I had no right.” She couldn’t look at Sebastian, all she felt was shame and embarrassment and hurt, realising that she’d not only hurt herself, but she’d really hurt him too. Her eyes watered and she willed them to clear, she didn’t want to be upset over this in a public place, didn’t want to express this in front of Sebastian, it wasn’t fair on either of them. “I didn’t think it would matter to you as much, but now I know I was wrong.“ She rubbed at her eyes furiously and kept her head lowered. “You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried, draguta. You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Sebastian watched the tears as they pooled in Eleanor’s eyes when she raised her head to gauge his expression, “Mean? As in still do?” Sebastian pulled out his wallet and threw a few notes down on the table between them before looping his arm around her and pulling her out back, behind the restaurant, “Of course you still do, you loser.” Her tears dripped off her chin and her body shook, her emotions had burst out of her and Sebastian could do nothing more than wrap her up in his arms and rub her back soothingly. “Please don’t cry, you’re here, I’m here, we’ll get it right this time,” her head stayed buried in his chest as she tried to calm herself down, so Sebastian ran his fingers through her hair and held her tighter, “just don’t go making my decisions for me, don’t shut me out.” “Promise.” *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* DECEMBER 2011 New Year had always left a sour taste in Eleanor’s mouth (the alcohol), an ache in her bones (the loneliness) and a longing to hold onto a year for a little longer (the need for more time). There was nothing quite like the feeling of leaving good, or bad, memories behind in the yester-year, the nostalgia it left in it’s wake was nauseating and she’d always laughed as she told anyone who would listen about how she’d prefer to sleep from the 30th December to the 2nd of January, just bypass the whole shebang. This year was no different, she still wanted to curl up in her apartment, block out the world and pretend it didn’t exist for those few days, but her re-kindled friendship had put a firm stop to that and he’d insisted their group reconvene for a ‘celebratory piss-up’ (Sebastian’s literal words, they’d caught her by surprise too and she’d been unable to stifle a snorting laugh because maybe he really had spent too many years around her). She was still trying to make amends despite his insistence that he’d more than forgiven her, and if he said jump, she’d willingly ask how high? to appease him as much as possible. That was potentially, or rather most likely, the reason she found herself 4 glasses of wine in with an arm thrown around Sebastian’s shoulder and her other glass filled arm in the air singing Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. It was ridiculous, and hilarious, and reminded her of that New Year of 2001, when they were still students singing along to Billy Joel. Her life had come full circle and right then she couldn’t be anymore thankful for the events that had led to them standing there, a decade later, in a similar, yet wholly different, situation. Life had its funny ways of working. As midnight struck, the pair had embraced each other tightly over a defining cheer of a new year and clinking of glasses, light kisses of forgiveness and new starts were shared between them, and Eleanor had a very good feeling about the year to come for the first time in a while. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Rose Coloured Boy tags: @lovingfionn​, @lowdenglynnstyles, @outofworkactress, @prettyboytgc, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls

[panda-noosh]

Action!{P3}{Lance x YouTuber!Reader}{AU}

Words: 5493

   Summary: Being a YouTube guru is hard enough without the added stress of living with Lance McClain, the man who insists on bombarding into every YouTube video you try to film. His viewers love him, and so do you.

   Pairing: Lance x YouTuber!Reader

   Notes: p1 – p2 - p4 - p5 - p6 - p7 ; this part is ANGSTY YAYYYYY

   As evening settled upon you, the air began to get crisper. The usually warm weather of California was beginning to leak away, leaving only the breeze which pelted at your legs and your bare arms, making you crave the feel of a jacket around your shoulders.

    Usually, you would have been sprinting home in weather like this. You wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Lance with a good movie being ignored in the background as you and him fought for more quilt, or more pop corn, or played stupid games of 20 questions, even though the two of you already knew every little thing about one another.

   Usually that would be the case.

   But now you found yourself approaching the small block of apartments you and Lance lived in, and you couldn't bring yourself to enter. The apartment key felt heavy in your jeans pocket and the idea of speaking to Lance after the incident last night and the awkwardness of this morning was enough to make you take a seat on the run-down wall just outside the building.

   The cold showed no mercy, but you didn't care. Neither did your feelings, or the heavy weight on your chest as you looked down at your hands. You played with your fingers, trying your hardest to get the feeling back in them but it was no use. And you didn't care. You just wanted to wollow in your self-pity for a little while longer before you were due to talk to Lance again.

   You knew he was home. One glance at the top window of the complex told you that much – he was home, no doubt waiting for you to walk in the door with that usual smile on your face. You weren't sure if you could muster one up at this moment. Not right now. Not with the lingering thoughts left to spiral in your brain.

    You inhale deeply in an attempt to get your mind out of the gutter. Everything Emma had said had to have been false. Lance had been your best friend for three years – he couldn't have faked that for that long. He couldn't have pretended to love your YouTube channel for three years without even a single clue pointing towards the idea of him disliking your job.

   The door behind you opened suddenly, and you savoured the moment of warmth which came from the open door. It made you shiver, and before you could properly bask in the feeling of comfortable warmth, an arm was swinging over your shoulders, hauling a scarf to cover your neck.

   You look up, startled, but the worried feeling melts away whenever your eyes meet Lance's. He's smiling a big grin, one you're all too familiar with, and holding a flask of a hot beverage in his hand which he gently sets on the graffitied wall beside you before hauling himself up onto it.

   You shift slightly, giving him more room but his hand shoots out and grabs yours before you can move much further, making you freeze in your position and gaze down at his nimble fingers warped through yours. They always did fit so perfectly.

   “How was your day out?” Lance asks, and you can hear the strain in his voice, the need for this conversation to not be awkward, not be filled with unnecessary tension.

   You exhale through your nose, lifting your eyes to look out at the passing pedestrians on the street. Teenagers shuffling home from late-night practice, mothers fumbling with cold children, people hobbling out of taxi's.

    “Good,” you reply. “Samuel's getting his last surgery done in a few weeks, and Emma's opening up for the recent art exhibit down in LA.”

   Lance nods slowly. “They're doing well for themselves.”

   “Mm. I have talented friends.”

   That feels like the end of it. It feels like that's as far as you can drag out the conversation without bringing up yesterday, or this morning, or how you hadn't slept beside Lance the night before. There was nothing left to say – nothing but the truth.

   And you wanted so desperately to just ask him. Just make him tell you the truth of whether or not he supported your job, but the words don't form in your brain because it seems like such a stupid question. He had been supporting your job for the past three years. The real question to ask was why now? Why had he become so reluctant with the idea of being on camera now? What had changed?

   You got together.

   But that couldn't have been it, either. Lance wasn't like this. He wouldn't have confessed to you if he was embarrassed to be in a relationship with you.

    You feel the brink of a headache bubbling at your skull, making you wince. You want to go inside now, but you don't move off the wall.

    “We should talk, I think.” Lance's voice comes out strained now, as if he'd finally given up on trying to push past the topic.

   You swallow thickly. “I overreacted.”

   “I don't think you did,” he replies, turning to look at you. You keep your head locked on the passers-by on the street, not wanting to meet his eyes just yet. “I think you had every right to feel paranoid for the way I acted.”

   “You don't have to show yourself in my videos, Lance,” you say. “I should respect your decision to stay out of them if that's what you want.”

   Lance purses his lips and you feel his eyes tracing over the side of your face, intaking every detail he can as his thumb brushes lazily over your numb knuckles. “You're too nice to me sometimes. I honestly don't understand how you put up with me for so long.”

   You smile lightly. “It wasn't easy.”

   “But you're glad you did it, right?”

   You finally turn to look at him, eyes trailing over his face before meeting his own. The dim light of the evening makes his features seem paler than they usually are, his tanned skin disappearing into paleness as the coldness nips at the flesh. Despite the scarf he had bundled around his neck, there is no stopping the chattering of his teeth or the way his nose is lit up red or the way his eyes water due to the wind blowing in them.

   You want to kiss him. With everything in you, you want to lean forward and press your lips to his and share the warmth of his body with yourself, but you don't move forward. All you do is smile lightly, nodding your head to the sound of the ice cream truck whizzing past.

    Lance smiles back at you, and it's soft and calming and it makes your heartbeat pick up in a way you would never understand.

    “Let's not keep fighting,” Lance says, finally. “I don't like it when we fight. The bed was cold last night.”

   You scoff. “Sorry about that. My electric blanket was on, so I was fine.”

   “Hey!” Lance shoves your shoulder with his own, making an eruption of laughter burst from the two of you. “Listen, though. If you want to vlog, you can. I don't mind. I know that that's a big part of your-”   “Oh my God, is that Y/N L/N?”

   Your eyes widen at the sound of your name echoing from the other side of the street. Butterflies merge into your stomach as you notice the group of uniformed girls squealing and jumping up and down, waving hecticly at you as they wait for the traffic to die down so they can eventually run towards you.

   Lance pulls his hand away immediately, leaving your palm feeling cold and desolate. You look down at your lap, catching a glimpse of the way Lance roughly shoves his hands into his pockets, and you can't help but feel the knot in your heart pulling even tighter – he's not embarrassed. It was a reflex.

   You hollow out your cheeks and look up at the group of girls, forcing a smile on your face as you make yourself wave at them with your now-free-hand.

    “I'll leave you to it, then,” you barely hear Lance mutter before he's hopping off the wall and exiting back into the apartment building. Just like that, his apology falls flat. Just like that, every bit of self-comforting that you had done suddenly goes down the drain as Emma's words echo in your head and the realisation that maybe,  just maybe, she was telling the truth hits you like a ton of bricks.

    “Y/N-ah!”

   You hear Lance stampeding down the hallway towards your filming room and immediately you take a break from applying your concealer, gaze turning towards the door before he's even opened it.

   He bombards through the wooden door, holding up two pairs of jeans, three shirts and a jacket, all bundled up into one mesh of fabric so tight that you can barely tell what item of clothing is which.

    “Oh good, you're awake,” Lance says upon meeting your gaze. He steps further into the room and slams the clothes on your desk, knocking your mirror to the left. “What clothes should I wear for the staff party tonight?”

   You raise your brow, looking up at him in confusion. “Staff party?”

   He pulls his lips into a line, looking down at you as if you had three heads. “Don't tell me you forgot. I've been talking about this for weeks now, Y/N.”

   You stay silent for a moment, only exaggerating your confusion that much more.

   Lance groans, rolling his eyes. “You're so lucky you keep me grounded. But the staff party! The one that Mrs Leech was organising for all the trainee pilots? I'm finally getting my license!”

    “Oh!” you exclaim. “That staff party!”

   “You still have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?”

   You bite down on your lip to hide your smile, but Lance picks up on it. He rolls his eyes once again, opting for flicking your forehead as a form of punishment for your short attention span which had cost you plenty of conversations before in the past.

   Lance settles down beside your desk on his knees, stifling through the clothing options. “I have no idea what you're going to wear, so I don't know if we're gonna be matching or not, but this is what I have so far-”

   You stutter, shooting forward at the words he just spoke. “Excuse me?”

   He looks up at you. “Mm. You're going as my date, you idiot. You'd know that if you weren't so bad at paying attention.”

   “But I have videos to film today!” you protest. “And I don't know anybody from your work. I'll literally be glued at your hip all day.”

    “All night,” Lance corrects. “And maybe that won't be such a bad thing. You'll make me look like I have my nerves under control.”

   “Don't act like you won't be off your head drunk by the hour.”

   Lance sticks his tongue out at you, making a small laugh bubble up from your throat. It was nice when you two could be like this – playful with each other, not caring about the world for a little while. All day your anxieties had been eating away at you, but in this moment, they all seem mildly stupid. They all seem overexaggerated, because Lance was showing affection and he was being the boyfriend he had always promised he would be.

   He didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed.

   It's these thoughts that calm you down enough to help Lance pick out an outfit. These thoughts that calm you down enough that you eventually agree to going to this party with him.

   Perhaps meeting the people Lance worked with wouldn't be such a bad thing. You had heard so many good things about Bad Billy and Frank from IT, but it had never dawned on you that you had never actually met them in person. Maybe it was time.

    Your outfit was simple, just like Lance had instructed. There was going to be nothing formal about this ceremony, though an attempt at looking nice was appreciated.

   You had pulled on a loose fitting black button-up shirt along with a pair of jeans of your own – one of the few pairs you owned that didn't have rips in the knees that you played off to be pre-ripped. You put on your fanciest pair of gold-buckled, black shoes and headed out the door with Lance.

    The academy wasn't anything you hadn't seen before. A large, white building that was always too overly-lit, planes littering the back of it with the front doors open 24/7. You had dropped Lance off at this very location multiple times before, watched him on his first day of training as he leaped through the open doors and was immediately met with a triumph of cheers from the elder men who were waiting for him at the door.

   And now here he was, taller and broader and more muscular with a hell of a lot more experience than what he had when he first joined. Today was the first day of him being a genuine pilot, and you couldn't help but smile up at him as he leads you through the doors and into the ceremony hall.

   The hall, for the first time in forever, had been dimmed down, only lit up by a handful of torches which line the concrete walls. Circular tables had been set out for everybody attending, candles placed upon them with menus already opened, ready for anybody to read as soon as they sat down.

   For such a 'non-formal' event, they sure did clean up well for it.

   “God, I can smell the sweat on myself already,” Lance whispers to you as you walk through the doors.

   “Just calm down,” you whisper back. “These people aren't strangers to you, okay? They're your friends.”

   “But what if they suddenly decide that I'm not worth it?” Lance asks, and you frown in reply, looking up at him. “Like, what if they go to hand me my certificate and they realise that hiring me is all a big mistake? I'm young. I still have a lot to learn-”

   “The older pilots still have a lot to learn,” you assure, tugging on his arm which you have looped your own through. “They'll go to their graves with a lot to learn, babe. You'll pick things up as you work. That's how this kind of thing goes.”     Lance hollows out his cheeks, using his free hand to dab at his forehead which is glistening with a thin layer of nervous sweats. You smile lightly despite him not being able to see you, resting your head on his arm for only a moment before a skinny, ginger haired man is jumping his way over to the pair of you, laughing a high pitched laugh.

   The mans moustache is pooled with sweat, though you have to admit that, for an elder, he has kept himself looking decent for his age. He must be in his late-40's, early 50's, but the aura he gives off makes him seem nothing short of Lance and your own age.

   “Lancey Lance!” the ginger exclaims. “We were waiting for you, so we were! Big man Lance! Man of the night! Knight in shining armour! The one, the only-”

   “Hey, Coran,” Lance chuckles nervously, slipping his arm out of yours to give Coran a hug. “The place looks nice. You cleaned it up well!”

   Coran nods, smiling at his own work as Lance and him pull away from each other. “Yes well, this is what happens when you're a genius like myself.” You fight back the urge to laugh, instead opting to trail your eyes over the scenery in an attempt to distract yourself. “And who is this pretty lady you have on your arm, huh? I didn't know you were getting some, Lance. Have you even been through sex-ed class yet?”

   Your eyes pop open, a blush attacking your cheeks. Lance stumbles over his own words for a moment, shooting his eyes down to look at you in panic before clicking back to Coran's.

   “This is Y/N. My room mate.”

   “Oh, Y/N!” Coran exclaims, and you swear he has not used his inside-voice once during this entire conversation. “I've heard of you. Congratulations on reaching two million – two million subsides? Substitutes? What is it you got?”

   You bite down on your lip. “Um, subscribers, sir. And thank you. I appreciate it.”

   “How does that whole YouTube thing work, anyway?” Coran continues. You can feel Lance awkwardly shifting at the side of you, messing with his fingers as if praying the conversation will end so you and him can go back to being the cute, normal couple he so craved for you to be.

   But Coran is too invested in the conversation at hand, and before long the older man has wrapped an arm around your shoulders and is leading you and Lance through the crowd whilst jittering away about your unusual job.

   “Do you have to get up early to do it?”

   “It's usually based off of my schedule, but I prefer to get everything done in the morning, so I guess so.” A lie. You just didn't want to make yourself out to sound lazy.

   Coran hums. “And how do you get paid? Because from what I read, your net worth is pretty high.”

   “Coran!” Lance exclaims. “You can't just talk about her net worth whilst she's-”

   “I think it was around 3 million,” Coran continues, ignoring Lance's pleading voice behind him. “I don't understand why, though. Do you not just put make up on for a living?”

   You open your mouth to reply, but Lance doesn't allow you to. In seconds, Lance's arm is looped through yours, yanking you out of Coran's grip and dragging you away from him, waving his goodbyes without a second glance sent behind him.

    He's fuming. His breathing is coming out in warm, ragged breaths and his grip is tight on the jacket you have pulled over yourself, his footsteps heavy as he tries to fight through the crowd as quick as possible.

    Why he was getting so worked up, you didn't know. Net worth and how you made your money were common questions asked by almost every interviewer you had ever sat in front of, and Lance never seemed bothered by such a topic before.

    Although, the words Coran had uttered just before Lance had dragged you away had not gone unnoticed. Do you not just put make up on for a living?

   Ouch.

   But you were used to it. Those were the comments that were expected whenever you sat in front of a camera and showed people how to apply make up. Those were the comments you skimmed through on a daily basis.

   “Lance, please slow down,” you call after him, stumbling over your boots as he continues to plow through the crowd in an attempt to get to your designated table. “Please, Lance, come on! The night's only just started and you haven't even introduced me to any of your friends yet. Where's Frank from IT? I want to see him.”

    “I'm hungry,” Lance grunts, his voice barely audible over the music playing above you. “Let's just eat.”

   You don't ask any more questions. You don't see how you can; not with him in this state. This state of pure anger – pure anger which is radiating off of him in waves you had never seen before. Your mouth is screwed shut as Lance finally reaches the table you two were told to sit at, pulls out a chair and slumps down.

   Despite claiming he was hungry, he makes no attempt to look at the menu. Instead, he sinks further into his seat, leans his head on the palm of his hand and stays silent. His lips are pulled into a pout, eyes sharply darting around the room, glaring at anybody and everybody he can see. Women dressed up in fancy attire shuffle away from him, clearly turned off by the way he seems so frustrated in this moment.

   You don't know what to do. It was so uncommon for Lance to act like this, so uncommon for such small matters to bother him. You had never had to deal with him in this state, because he never got put in this state in the first place.

   You look at him for a little bit longer before you pick up the menu, looking through the dishes they had provided. What you expected – greasy things. Burgers, hot dogs, chips, fish fingers, chicken nuggets. What pilots ate around here. It was the type of food Lance always claimed he had to eat during lunch, and he never seemed bothered by it.

   You decided to order a burger and chips. The waiter walked away without Lance's order, due to Lance simply grunting in response to him asking him what he wanted.

   You lean back in your chair hesitantly, keeping your gaze on Lance. “People are dancing.”

   Lance looks towards the dance floor for a single moment, shrugs and slumps further down in his seat.

   You press your fingers into the arm rest, fighting off the urge to completely explode. Three days of this and you were done. Three days of him having these random mood swings – acting like you were his world for one second before completely going off on you and every other little thing the next. Things had been so perfect for nearly three months – what was happening now?

   You inhale deeply. “Maybe we should go and dance whilst we wait for food.”

   “I'd rather save my energy for the walk onto the stage,” he replies.

   You grit your teeth. Yelling at him won't do either of you any favours, and you wanted to at least find out what was wrong before you went off on one. There had to be something beneath the surface that was making him act this way. Nobodies personality changed this much in the space of three days.

   “Okay,” you say. “Well, what do you wanna do until the ceremony starts? You didn't order anything to eat, so you have all the freedom in the-”

   “I just wanna sit!” he barks, taking you by surprise.

   You felt your heart contract at the volume of his voice. Heads whipped around to look at the two of you in confusion, and you felt time physically slow down. People's eyes widened, because it was Lance yelling and Lance McClain never yelled. People were whispering to each other, wondering what it was that could possibly have set him off.

   You were sure you could have melted away in embarrassment then and there, but you kept yourself firm. You stood your ground. You pulled your shoulders back and kept your gaze firm on Lance, ignoring the whispering individuals around you.

    This was about you and Lance, and that was all.

   “You know, if you think Coran's comments bothered me, you're wrong,” you say. “I'm used to people asking about that kind of stuff. You know I am. There's – There's no need to get so protective over such a little thing, okay? I'm fine.”

   Lance barely moves. Simply stares up at the stage with his cheek still pressed into his palm. He looked so dead right now, so upset and it makes your heartbeat falter.

   You try again, this time reaching over and placing a hand on his knee. “Lance, please don't be like this. You were so happy about being here earlier on. Don't let something so simple ruin your big night.”

   Lance closes his eyes slowly, intaking a deep breath. He shifts suddenly, lifting his head off of his palm as he bounces your hand off of his knee. You pull away hesitantly, watching the way he bites the inside of his cheek before he speaks – a sure sign that what he is about to say isn't going to be anything welcoming.

    “You really shouldn't be so lenient with me,” he mumbles, so low you're sure you heard him wrong. You raise your brow, leaning forward in curiosity.

   “What?”

   “Me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “You shouldn't be so lenient with me. As in, you shouldn't put up with my shit any more. I just – You need to hate me.”

   You blank, completely frozen with confusion for a moment. You were no longer certain what way the conversation was headed – why had he brought that up like it meant nothing? Why was he suddenly being so vague?

   “I don't understand,” you say, shaking your head. “What are you talking about? I thought it was Coran that was pissing you off.”

   “Coran only made me realise some stuff,” Lance mumbles. “I did something bad, Y/N, and I didn't mean to but I did it any way because I – I was being selfish. I've been so hostile these past few days because I don't want you to associate me with your fanbase after – after what I did.”

   His voice is shaking, and your hands are trembling and the confusion is pulling at your chest so tightly that you nearly cave in and double over with the feeling of it.

   “What did you do?” you ask.

   Lance purses his lips, looking up at the stage now. “I don't wanna lose you, Y/N. I really don't. But you don't – After what I did, you don't deserve someone like me, and I've been trying to distance myself from you and the whole YouTube thing, but it's not working out the way I was hoping.”

   “Hoping? Distancing yourself? Lance, I don't even know what you're saying right now! What could you have possibly done that was so bad that you have to push me away?”

   Lance shakes his head again, and you don't believe your eyes when he begins to rise up from his seat, every intention to leave you stranded at this god damn table.

   You reach up, snatching his hand in your own, feeling the coldness of his palm for the last time before he tugs out of your grip and stuffs his hands in his blazer pocket.

   “You'll understand soon. You won't even want me around whenever you find out.”

   You blink back tears which are rapidly building to the surface. “You're scaring me.”

   “I'm sorry. I thought I could have this last night with you, but Coran was talking about your YouTube and I just feel so guilty. I wanted you to see me succeed for the last time before you left me, but-”

   You stand up sharply. “Lance, I'm not going to leave you! I don't even know why you're doing this!”

   Lance shakes his head again, a movement that seems to be his defence mechanism at this point. “Just – You can go home if you want. I've gotta go.”

   And before you can even ask a single question more, Lance is stumbling away from you, walking towards the exit on the far side of the room.

   The first tear falls.

   You pull your hood on over your head as you walk through the rain that California had sprung upon you. It was a rare sight to see, though you weren't surprised to see it. The coldness which had been plaguing your usually warm home-state had been a sure sign that the weather was finally beginning to realise that it was, indeed, the middle of October.

   Nonetheless, you make no attempt to head back to your apartment, instead opting for ducking inside of a nearby coffee shop.

   Nothing had been right after Lance left the ceremony. You had felt too weak to walk home by yourself, your knees wobbling with the emotion – meaning you had to sit and eat on your own, listen to the speaker call out Lance's name for his license, only to realise that Lancey Lance, the guest of honour, had fled the scene completely.

    You were forced to retrieve his licence for him, an honour which was a one-time thing for him, destroyed by whatever paranoid circle his head had looped him in.

   Because, truth was, you were terrified. Terrified of your home-life, terrified of your relationship, terrified of your friendship. You were terrified of what was to happen to Lance, because he hadn't come home last night.

   He must have stayed at Pidge's, or Keith's or maybe even Coran's – you didn't know. All you knew was that you had stumbled into your apartment, too late to form sentences, to see it completely bare. Lance really had abandoned you, and the reason for doing so was still unknown to you.

    The coffee shop provided a comforting warmth to you as you ordered your coffee and sat down at the far table, right beside a window. You hoped to get some editing done – anything to get Lance off your mind – but the tension in your shoulders and the constant feeling of wanting to burst into tears wasn't leaving you alone today. The left-over alcohol that you had downed at the ceremony was also still buzzing at your veins, leaving behind the unseizing need to jump around. You put all of your nervous energy into tapping at the coffee cup in your hand, staring out at the rain which was beginning to batter against the pavement.

    Your phone went off suddenly, signalling a new message. Almost immediately your mind zoned to Lance – besides, he was the one person who texted you constantly throughout the day; mini updates on how work was going, or a simple selfie of him in his work uniform, or a question asking how your day was going. He was who you were used to seeing pop up on your phone all the time.

   It wasn't exactly disappointment you felt whenever you saw Samuel's name flicking upon your phone screen instead, but you certainly felt your heart churn.

    Samuel: i'll hang him up by his balls, I swear to god.

   Samuel: have you seen this yet? call me. {attachment}.

    You raise a brow at nothingness, not hesitating to click on the attachment. You weren't expecting it to be anything bad, but as soon as the headline snapped out at you, you felt like screaming. You felt like hurling your coffee cup across the shop and screaming at the top of your lungs because no, this can't be right. This has to be fake. He wouldn't do this. Not for any amount of money. Not for any amount of publicity.

   The headline bounced out at you in big, bold letters along with a picture of Lance looking friendly with a man, arms wrapped around each other and big, cheesy grins plastered on their faces.

    The headline read: LANCE MCCLAIN SPILLS ALL ABOUT HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMOUS YOUTUBER Y/N L/N! IS ALL REALLY PERFECT IN PARADISE?

    Your breathing turns ragged, hands bundling within the fabric of your jeans. You try to control yourself. You try to calm yourself down, but there's no amount of reality that you can grasp onto in this moment that will keep the tears from streaming down you face, a feeling of utter betrayal settling in your stomach because he had really done it. He had done the one thing that he promised never to do; he was using your relationship for the money.

   He had accepted your feelings, kissed you, led you on for months. Was the money really his only intention? Had this interview been planned since the LA event you had confessed at?

    God, the thoughts were too harsh. The thoughts were battering at the front of your skull, making the tears slip ten times faster. People looked at you in confusion, some in pity. This young girl sitting alone in a coffee shop, sobbing her heart out over a boy. A boy who she saw her life unfolding with. A boy who she thought would never leave her side, because that was what he had said. He had told you on numerous occasions that I'll always be your best friend! or I'll never leave you!

   And now this.

    You dialled Samuels number quickly, pulling the phone to your ear, wanting to hear him tell you that it was a lie, that the attachment was a prank and that everything Lance had told you over the past few months had been truth.

    But the words which slip past Samuel's lips go against everything you want to believe.

   Because upon hearing your sobs, your friend can only say, “Oh, sweetie.”

[cjostrander]

The Gazette: Stacked Rubbish

Hello everyone, It’s been awhile since i’ve tackled a Japanese album so i’m going to do an anniversary one for The Gazette. They had two this year with this one reaching the ten year mark and their album Division being five years old. I figured this was the more urgent pick since it’s one of their more renowned albums from i’ve heard and i’ve yet to get a true impression of how this album is geared. Let’s scratch it off the list today and see how well it sticks to me.

Art Drawn By Vomit: We begin with some backing vocal effects and guitar samples before a live style electronic synth opens up for a rather odd yet interesting vocal introduction from the singer. He sounds like he is rapping and works with some rather soothing female vocals and a high use of record scratching. This one is a short little oddity at just under two minutes long that proves to be a nice experiment for opening up this album and would be a decent piece to open up one of their more eccentric albums as well. Due to it being strictly an introduction track i am going to avoid scoring it in order to avoid diluting the score of the actual tracks in my ranking. You guys will be interested by the hip hop vibe i promise. 0/0

Agony: This song begins rather conventional with a nice drum beat which echos well under the energy rousing vocals. The drums and angsty guitars establish a rather interesting dynamic when combine with electronic synths in the background. The chorus sounds a bit layered but has a nice sense of a punk delivery to it without really going overboard in terms of energy. It manages to focus on a more rhythmic and nearly funk like direction in the instrumentals while still staying at a nice degree of energy. The vocals do at times make me wonder whether they are french especially in the beginning. It would make sense since they had a european presence by this point in their career (3rd album). This one makes a good use of the bass to maintain a balance to the instrumentals and the drums manage to develop a rather complex drum performance that keeps the rhythm strong and props this song up significantly during their experimental funk/electronica segments. It doesn’t stick out as a true highlight loss but does contain a decent level of strength to be an enjoyable toss in track on both a live performance as well as the album in general. It also does well at making it’s run time count and not feel dragged out as one may expect. 8/10

Hyena (Single): This first single begins with energetic drums and guitars while the vocals take on a nearly melodic tone before signalling an aggressive shout. It allows the instrumentals to go full speed with their fast riffs and hard hitting beats. The vocals shift between fast shout vocals and gutteral screams at times; which manages to come off rather smooth for being a raw as it is. The hardcore punk focus of the instrumentals is a good approach and will do well to make it stick out and liven up an audience. The cleanly melodic chorus is a good break up point for the listener to refresh a bit before they shift into a standard level breakdown. This one bears a similar format to the previous song in that it is a solid piece; but not something that i would quite label as a highlight. It definitely contains the right jam element and balanced melodies for it to be a good workout tune as well as a driving song for when you got to get somewhere fast. 8/10

Burial Applicant: This one begins with a more sinister guitar melody before the electronica and moody guitars enter to fill the atmosphere with some urgent tension. The vocals develop a low sense of gloomy melody that sticks out as a very successful risk that is out of the box. It gradually grows into a song that could easily be mistaken for Dir en Grey at times but is clearly unique enough with its chorus being soothing and clearly this band. The vocals go into a low yet intense style of growl vocals and the guitars then take on that aggressive rhythm distortion style that brings me back to Dir en Grey’s Vulgar/Marrow of a Bone era of music. Can’t complain about that comparison since that band is a clear influence on these guys. The good thing is that these guys are mindful enough to keep their own sound on it so that it’s not viewed as a cheap attempt to capitalize on their success at the time. This one would of been a decent pick for a single over the previous one but i know the later ones will take on a similar note and expand on the experimental side of it. 8.5/10

Ganges ni Akai Bara: This guy begins with keys chiming in and a very lively jazz guitar/bass rhythm that is very cheerful and energizing for the listener. It reminds me of early Nightmare at times which is a nice element of that band’s strong side. The vocals are very energetic yet soothing and will do a good job of getting the listener’s heartbeat racing and wanting to get up and dance. The instrumentals do a good job of keeping the enthusiasm going and would of been another good choice for a single. The live potential for this song is extraordinary and the bass solo towards the end is a real highlight segment for a bass guitar. The lead guiar brings forth its own melodic solo that builds on the bass and really pushes it towards its high point before the keys enter to slow it down with a climatic feeling of beauty. The vocals echo in to deliver a few catchy vocals before leading into the chorus again and uses this momentum to end the song on a rather high note. This is definitely a highlight song on this album for sure!! 10/10

Regret (single): This single begins with some low and distorted yet fast paced guitar riffs. The bass is very prominent in the mix and almost kicks the regular guitars to the curb at times which is rather nice for a bass to be able to do without smothering the song. The vocals follow a cheerfully live flow like the last song and will do well to build on the listener’s euphoria from that song as a result. This is a good pick for a single and would be a great live piece due to how catchy the chorus and the level of subtle yet convincing emotion it can evoke onto the listener. The solo is rather nice and keeps things going with a high degree of melodic cheer before the vocals quicken up their delivery with a high level of layered bliss. They really make the most of this song’s length and makes it surprising that you are already just about to finish the first half of this lengthy 14 track album. 10/10

Calm Envy: This one begins with a very Spanish pop style in the vein of Enrique iglesias. The bass as a result has a strong presence on the song and the use of soothing English speaking female vocals is a nice call and response element for the regular verses. He is rather subdued in his delivery and displays a rather interesting yet risky level of pleading emotion. The chorus is reserved as well and seems to further emphasize the pleading nature of his voice and the instrumentals continue to support him in a rhythmic approach without really getting carried away with energy or dying out with the lack of it. This is a six minute song and by far the longest song on the album; but yet another song that seems to make the most of it’s timing without trying too hard just to be long. The little solo is a nice transition moment for the vocals to up their level of urgency and infuse a little extra energy into the song. 8.5/10

Swallowtail on the Death Valley: This one begins with a very live show like feel and the drums and guitar have a very organic sound as a result. Female begin this one with a nice degree of energy. The bass and drums establish a groovy dance rhythm for the vocals to enter over. It proves to be rather catchy and makes a good effort towards being right in the middle of experimental and a conventional jam track. It keeps its energy in the casual range with some ear catching jam solos every now and then; as well as solo drum moments for the vocals to recite verses over. This is another decent track that will push the album along a lot nicer than i thought it would when i first listened to this album. 8.5/10

Mob 136 Bars: This one begins with aggressive drum beats and fast guitar riffs that seek to establish a return to that hardcore punk sound earlier in the album. The vocals take on a mix of clean vocals and aggressive screams; back from complementary shouts from his fellow band mates. The fast pacing of the instrumentals is a nice approach on this song since it contains just enough fluidity to be considered a catchy number for the listener to have his heartbeat race at a high pace and not feel like the song throws the album out of fluidity. Simple, short, and effective. 8.5/10

Gentle Lie: Drums and guitars begin this guy off with a slightly poppy atmosphere which the listener would be able to surprisingly relax to at a smooth rate from the last song. The melodic nature of the instrumental provide a good level of melody for the listener to further unwind. Whether that is a good feeling to be having with four songs left to go remains to be seen. Either way, this song will offer you a nice moment to refresh to a drink or as you are slowly getting ready for bed. 8/10

Filth in the Beauty (single): This one was a big single for them and features the band further building on their poppy side. The guitars and beginning female vocals give it a very soothing atmosphere before the guitars shift the song into a more aggressive direction. The vocals enter over the Spanish pop styled melodies with catchy degree of fluidity and melody. The chorus then begins over layered guitars and drum bashing and the vocals use a layered echo to establish a high degree of catchiness and melody for the listener get up and move to. A rather moving breakdown then occurs that is simple but makes for a rather good jam element for a live audience to mosh to. The vocals build the aggression before some subtle female vocals signal for the pleasantly unique chorus to return and close this song on a rather strong note. This one makes for a very strong single and was a smart choice to pick for it on the album. 10/10

Circle of the Swindler: The drums and guitars pick up immediately on a fast and aggressive note. It will do well to get your heart racing again and the vocals rely on a more clean and melodic approach than expected on previous songs of this caliber and transition it into a more conventional song than originally expected. This is close to being labelled a toss in track but the solo and bass segments do a good enough job of keeping enough highlights in it for a listener to appreciate it as it comes along in the album. The vocals do grow in strength as well so this one definitely stays above filler status.7.5/10

Chizuru: The instrumentals begin on a rather gloomy note and establish deep rhythm that evokes a high degree of emotion and despair. The vocals arrive to establish a good presence on the song without taking away from the layered instrumentals at all. It reminds me of Deftones at times due to its layered approach which is always another nice comparison for them to have on an album. The vocals then take on a more energetic delivery as it continues; but still keeps in a good degree of melody and moodiness in the song. The piece is just under six minutes long and does a decent job of winding the listener down to an appropriate level  before the finale piece enters. This would of been a fair closing track so hopefully the next song does the album justice. 8/10

People Error: Keys begin this closing track on a rather reserved and classically inspired note. It is very relaxing to the ears and demonstrates a nice addition to this album that gives the listener a strong dose of relaxation to finally get ready for bed to. Its a nice surprise to come across after experiencing such a balanced degree of experimentation that this album dealt with. I wont score this one since it has the same approach as the beginning song in being meant just to end the album on a smooth note so let’s see how the album stands out on my blog. 0/0

Overall album rating: 8.6/10

Well, this was another strong album from the band and even though it’s currently my lowest scored album; i can’t knock it as being another interesting experiment from them to listen to. I’d say give it a listen and if you like it then check out their other work. They definitely will give you plenty of surprises as you search through their catalog. I’m gonna catch you guys later so enjoy your day and i’ll start thinking of my next review for you guys.

*Reviewer’s Pick*