#and ​they still use he/him in the lyrics… I’m so happy I found that cover

[smthaboutusss]

rdst yuri based on this vid I’m obsessed… I like how they just wear the same clothes it's rly cutee

[madwcman]

never gonna love again

pairing: remus lupin x fem! reader

summary: inspired by “cowboy like me” by taylor swift

warnings: fluff, slight angst, remus smokes a cigarette, mentions of drinking (very brief) & lyrics are in italics & bold

authors note: i finally finished this!! it’s a little long i hope you guys don’t mind :)

“and the tennis court was covered up with some tent-like thing. and you asked me to dance, but i said, ‘dancing is a dangerous game.’ oh, i thought this is gonna be one of those things. now i know, i’m never gonna love again.”

you really never saw this coming; lily evans marrying james potter. it was funny how one of your closest friends married the person she claimed to have hated back in hogwarts. you watch silently on the side as lily and james happily dance in a crowd of happy couples under bright lights.

“they look happy don’t they?” a deep voice asks, slightly startling you, you turn to look at your surprise visitor. your eyes meet the face of remus lupin. a boy (now man) you used to go to school with and a good friend of james.

“yes, yes they do.” you state matter of fact, turning your head back to the people dancing. “i’m remus.” you turn your head to look at remus again, he has his hand out, wanting to shake hands with you. “i know who you are.” it came out more rude than you intended. but you didn’t apologize. “oh” he's a little surprised by your blunt response, but gives you a smile. “well would you like to dance y/n?”

“i’m not sure about that.” you’re hesitant, you can’t really dance and you don’t know remus. you’re not sure if you want to. but the man wasn’t going to give up. “well we don’t have to dance, c'mon.” remus keeps his hand out for you to grab. you were still hesitant to take remus hand not knowing where the tall man intended to take you, but you finally decided to go. it was better than just standing on the sidelines watching people dance.

“i've got some tricks up my sleeve. takes one to know one, you're a cowboy like me”

you let remus walk you outside of the big white tent where the wedding ceremony was still taking place around your friends. it’s a grassy green area with nothing around but wildflowers. remus lets go of your hand and takes a few more steps forward. reaching into his pockets. he grabs a lighter and a cigarette packet, grabbing one and quickly lighting it.

“do you mind?” he questions, slightly raising an eyebrow. “no, not at all” you shrug your shoulders, as remus mumbles a “thanks” as he lifts the cigarette to his mouth. “so why take me out here?” you question as remus smokes. “just wanted to talk to you.” you walk toward remus and decide to sit down, he joins you; cigarette still in his mouth. you watch him silently while he smokes his cigarette. “ya know, i’ve always found you pretty while attending hogwarts.” remus turns to look at you, a smile on his face.

“yeah?” you’re a little baffled really not expecting to hear that from remus. you always thought remus was out of your league and you’ve never really had the guts to say you liked him back then. “yeah, of course how could i not?” you just shrug not knowing how to answer his question. “i’ve always found you quite pretty too.” you say silently, remus laughs at that, he has never been described as pretty from others except from james. “you’re a liar.” he claims, still laughing. “believe it or not lupin i did.” he stops laughing, and stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out if you’re lying. “really?” and you’re surprised he doesn’t believe you. “everyone had a crush on you back then.”

“as they did you.” and it was true. you both did have a dating history back in hogwarts, but you haven’t dated much now since you left school. it grows quiet between the two of you, remus looks down at you with a small smile with of course a hint of mischief in it.

“can i kiss you?” remus moves closer to you waiting for an answer. you nod your head a little fast, letting out a shaky “yes”, remus places one hand under your chin and the other on the side of your face delicately. as if you're made of glass, lifting your head up as he slightly bends down to kiss you. soft and tender, are the words to describe this kiss. you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life but none of them felt as soft and sweet as this kiss with remus. he held you and touched you so tenderly, no one has ever held you like this. it was nice, it was new for you. you move in more confident, asking remus to give you more, you move your hands up to remus dark hair gripping it.

“lupin get your grimy hands off lily’s friend and join the rest of us back in the tent!” you pull back from remus with a gasp of surprise leaving your lips. remus backs up a little from you, as you turn to look at sirius, remus just shakes his head giving sirius a thumbs up while looking down at you. as sirius walks back into the tent you turn your head to remus. and now it’s silent and you feel slightly awkward, now making yourself smaller, letting go of remus and holding your arms against yourself. not knowing what to do. remus laughs a little, sensing the awkwardness. “can i have your number?” he asks with a smile hoping you’ll say yes. “yeah, yeah you can.”

remus gets your number and makes a promise to call you before he turns and makes his way back to the tent leaving you alone to join your friends. you know remus had a history with dating people back at hogwarts.. you couldn’t judge since you did as well. you’re just nervous it’s going to end how it always does. it’s just going to end as a one time thing.

“never wanted love just a fancy car. now i'm waiting by the phone, like i'm sitting in an airport bar. you had some tricks up your sleeve takes one to know one.”

after that one interaction with remus at the wedding, he promised to call and he did, you’ve been seeing remus for a month now. and you never expected to fall in love this fast but you did. you fell hard. you love spending your days with remus. he was exciting, fun, smart and sweet. you wait for his every move and wait for every call. it’s like you have nothing better to do than to just sit and wait like you would at an airport bar.

you’re sitting on the couch reading a book while waiting for remus to call you, he said he would call sometime today. and you just can’t wait to talk to him. the phone rings and you quickly discard the book and pick up the phone. excited to talk to remus. “hello?” and it’s only a few seconds of silence until on the other end of the line you hear remus’ voice. “hi dove!” you can’t see remus but you’re sure he has a crooked smile on his face. “remus, hi!” you say brightly and a little loud, he laughs a little, “can i come over? i miss you.”

“yes!” you say it too quick and fast to your liking. you try to save it with a little cough. “er- i mean yeah.” and he laughs again, knowing you were trying to play it cool. you feel heat creep onto your cheeks, flushed and a little embarrassed. “okay i’ll come over”

“great” you say quietly and fondly. “i should be over by five, is that okay?” you shake your head but remus isn’t there to see it. “yes i can’t wait to see you.” you state, with a smile. “i can’t wait to see you dove, i’ll see you later.”

and you blush, happy remus also can’t wait to see you. and love’s spending time with you. “i’ll see you.” the phone call ends, you sigh and mentally jab at yourself, you were supposed to play it cool. instead you embarrassed yourself. you were a fool in love.

“you're a cowboy like me; perched in the dark. telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear. like it could be love. i could be the way forward, only if they pay for it. you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars. hustling for the good life. never thought i'd meet you here. it could be love. we could be the way forward. and i know i'll pay for it.”

it’s later in the day, almost night. you and remus are laying together in your bed, limbs tangled together. holding onto one another. it’s been a long day, and you wanted remus to stay the night. not really wanting to part from him.

it’s quiet, a comfortable quiet, which you always enjoy when you're with remus. but you have this feeling to get off your chest. you enjoy remus and his company. and you’re in love with him but you're scared. you’ve never really been in love with anyone like this.

“remus if we fall in love, i’m going to pay for it.” you state intensely. not really knowing why you’re telling him this.

remus laughs looking down at you, a little puzzled by your intense claim. “what do you mean?”

and you look up to him, he has a lazy smile and kind eyes. “it’s either i’m going to get my heart broken by you or i’m going to fall madly in love with you either way i’m going to pay for it.”

it’s silent for a moment, the moment now feeling heavy. you ruined it you thought. but his lazy smile turns bright and his cheeks turn a little red while he pulls you as close to him as he can “well i hope you pay for the later.”

“and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. and the old men that i've swindled really did believe i was the one. and the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town, but that was all before i locked it down.”

remus invited you to come to sirius’ party, you were excited. the party so far was okay, nothing too crazy. you met some of remus’ friends and saw a few old ones as well. and had a few drinks here and there. not really feeling up to socializing, you stand by remus side as he talks to a few people.

“so you’re remus’ new girlfriend?” you turn and see sadie, a girl you used to go to school with; she was one of remus ex girlfriends. “yeah she is”, remus answers for you, turning to look at you and sadie.

“oh! well it probably won’t last.” she says it lamely, as if she’s bored with this topic already.

you utter a confused “what “ as remus glares at sadie, warning her. she doesn’t notice remus stare or she simply doesn’t care she laughs and turns to you with a wide open smile.

“remus never keeps a girlfriend around long.” she jokes, with a laugh that seems a little too fake. “he gets bored, don’t you rem?” you look over at remus with concern. “sure, sadie.” he says curtly, as he grabs your hand leading you somewhere else to sit and talk.

you’re trying really hard to not let sadie get into your head, but it was really hard. what had she meant by remus doesn’t keep girlfriends around long? does she mean remus doesn’t want anything that’s long term? or doesn’t like anything too serious? will he cut you off when things are too serious? you hope that’s not the case.

remus leads you outside the house to the backyard, he takes a seat on the ground and tilts his head up to you raising an eyebrow, asking you to join him. you sit down besides him.

“are you okay?” he asks while grabbing your hand holding it. you reassure him with a small “i’m fine” he looks at you for a moment and you can’t indicate what he’s thinking. “are you sure?” he asks again, you sigh not wanting to pick a fight with him about your overthinking thoughts. “remus just let it be.” your tone sounds a little agitated, and mean. you can see remus is taken back by it.

“you’re acting like a child.” he shakes his head, his arms crossing in front of his chest, his eyes narrowing at you, quickly adding, “is this about what sadie said?” you go quiet for a moment, knowing it was. sadie got into your head about your relationship with remus. the silence answered remus' question. he scoffs at you. “it is.”

“re-“ before you can explain how you feel remus interrupts you. “this is ridiculous.” he’s scolding you as if you're a child, his voice is low and a little cruel. he gets up from the ground and turns his back towards you walking back into the house leaving you outside alone.

“now you hang from my lips, like the gardens of babylon. with your boots beneath my bed forever is the sweetest con.”

it’s been a few days since your argument with remus. you haven’t seen or heard from him. after your argument with remus you just decided to leave the party, you didn’t have the guts to see remus after and you weren’t in a partying mood. these past few days you wonder if you officially messed things up with remus. he hasn’t called or texted, but you haven’t exactly called or texted him either, you’re a little scared to. you don’t want what you have with remus to end. but you want to talk to remus.

grabbing your phone and calling remus you wait with anticipation, hoping he’ll answer your call. the phone rings for a while until it stops and it’s silent for a moment.

“hello?” you sigh in relief as remus answers the call. and you’re silent trying to figure out what to say. “dove are you there?” remus comes to your rescue, ending the silence for you.

“remus, i miss you.” you finally manage to word out. you’re nervous he’s still mad at you.

“i missed you too.” he quickly follows up with you, and your nerves ease down.

“i’m sorry.” and you are, you should’ve talked to remus at the party. “i’m sorry for leaving and not talking to you, it was mean” you quickly add explaining your apology.

“you don’t have to be sorry love, i’m sorry for not hearing you out.. and for being short with you.” remus assures you. “can you come over please?” you ask softly, missing remus. “of course.” you both say goodbye to each other and end the phone call with a smile on your face.

“i've had some tricks up my sleeve, takes one to know one; you're a cowboy like me. and I'm never gonna love again.”

you fell in love with remus, it wasn’t a one time thing or another short term relationship just like your previous relationships. you’re happy where you are now with him, sitting on the couch humming to music that’s playing. as one song ends and another starts to play. remus goes to stand. “y/n dance with me?” he reaches for your hand and you instantly grab it.

“i’m not good at dancing.” you claim, nervously, looking up at remus. “that’s okay, i’ll teach you.” remus places your hands where they need to be placed and starts to sway slowly to the music.

you stay like that for a moment, dancing with remus. you look up towards him with a small, shy smile. “remus, i’m never gonna love again.” and he could barely hear it, your voice small and quiet but he heard it. “meaning?” he chuckles a little to himself holding you tighter, while dancing. “i’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you. i’m never going to love anyone like this again.” you say softly as you both continue to sway yourselves to the end of the song.

[mendeshoney]

apple of my eye, take a bite

A/N: surprise surprise! this is a part two to "a taste of the devine," with a special little halloween twist! to my lovelies, @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech happy halloween babes! the title is inspired by lyrics from the song “eve” by precious pepala

Summary: You and Andrei go to the team Halloween party at a club, and it takes Andrei down memory lane.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, semi-public sex (in a club), hints of biting/hickies, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

~

“I feel like this won’t make much sense,” Andrei quietly mumbles to himself, adjusting the ‘hat’ of his costume, his eyes casting to the side once he sees movement from inside the closet.

The sliding frosted glass door is closed, so he can only see your shadow as you move around, and he can feel himself start to get antsy.

You’d kept your part of the couples costume a shrouded secret from him, claiming you wanted to surprise him. 

As far as surprises go, he typically liked yours a lot, but given his current predicament, he found himself a little more anxious than normal.

He glances at himself in the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, running a cursory hand over the fuzzy material of his Halloween costume, and frowning a little at his reflection.

“Kroshka, I don’t-” He starts, cutting himself off and turning back toward the closet when he hears the sliding door open. 

You finally emerge, body in an emerald green mini dress that you’d sewed fake vines onto so that they curled and twisted around your figure, enhancing your silhouette, vines trailing down your shoulder and around your arms until they rested delicately on your wrists. Those beautiful legs of yours donned a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly. 

You looked a lot more like that character that Evgeny used to tease him for having a crush on when they were kids, Poison Ivy, than you did the biblical Eve.

Sukin syn.

Andrei’s hard in seconds, heart pounding furiously as his stomach flutters.

Babochki, he thinks. Butterflies.

He laughs suddenly, feeling nervous out of the blue. 

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body a little so he can get a better view.

“I think there’s butterflies in my stomach,” he says honestly, the words coming out faster than he can process, but when you flush deeply, he feels a twinge of satisfaction. 

“You still have a way with words, don’t you?” You tease, trying to look anywhere else but him, and he knows that strategy.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure how to receive his compliments, you try to brush them off, but tonight’s not a night Andrei can let that fly.

He can feel his hands twitching at his sides, and his feet are moving towards you before he even realizes, that familiar gravitational pull too strong to resist.

“Ty vyglyadish' krasivo, lyubov' moya.” He murmurs. You look beautiful, my love.

You smile at his words, his hands coming to rest on your waist and pull you closer. “Spasibo, malysh.” You finally seem to take in his costume, and you giggle lightly. “You look so cute!”

He frowns, brows pinched together. “I’m glad you think so.”

You smile, giggling a little more. “Of course I think so.”

“Remind me again why I couldn’t just be ‘Adam’ for Halloween?” He asks, fingers playing with a fake vine on your shoulder.

“Because no one cares about Adam,” you remind him gently. “The story’s about Eve and the Apple. Adam’s just there.”

Andrei pouts a little, turning back toward the mirror and staring at the apple suit that covers his upper half, the red hat on his head with the apple’s stem and a little leaf, and the dark brown pants on his legs. “I guess so,” he laments, then turns his gaze back to you.

You know him so well at this point that when the corner of your mouth quirks up in a small smile, he isn’t even surprised, and just smiles right back at you. “Don’t worry, shchenok, everyone still thinks you’re sexy.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” he says without a second’s hesitation. “Just you.”

A small flush works its way up your neck and cheeks. “I still think you’re sexy, too.”

Andrei’s heart pounds then, that familiar disbelief that he was able to call someone like you the love of his life surfacing in his chest. He bends his head, pride surging through his veins when you accept his kiss. 

“We should probably go soon,” you murmur against his mouth.

Andrei hums, shrugging. “Or we could stay home. Have our own little Halloween party.”

“Not an option, I’m afraid.” You say, and pull yourself out of his arms to head back into the closet. He watches, completely entranced, as you pull on a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly, and he can feel himself start to tent in his pants. 

“Kroshka,” he tries again, the word nearly getting caught in his throat, “Are you sure we can’t just-”

You cut him off by standing, grabbing your small clutch and his car keys, tossing a curt “Let’s go, moye yabloko” over your shoulder as you head to the garage.

Andrei glances at himself in the mirror one last time, offering his reflection a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing his wallet and trailing after you.

~

His teammates don’t laugh as much as he expected, which he supposes is because out of all the costumes tonight, he looks the least ridiculous.

Jesperi, Teuvo, and Sebastian are dressed as Alvin and the Chipmunks - Jesperi was elected to be Theo against his will, Teuvo gladly accepted the role of Simon because it meant he was the smartest, which left Sebastian as Alvin, who claimed it was only fair since his last name began with an ‘A’ - Freddie, Anti, Jacob, and Brett dressed up as Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Rafael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Brent was dressed as Sully from Monsters Inc, and those were just the costumes he managed to figure out on his own.

There were far too many others for him to keep track of or understand and some were just a headache to look at, so he ended up focusing on the one thing he knew would keep his attention - the way your ass moved in your dress as you walked through club toward the VIP section they’d reserved for the team party.

The girls complimented you on your outfit and assured Andrei that he looked cute instead of silly, and it only made him feel marginally better.

He was still dressed as a giant apple for the night, after all, while his bombshell of a girlfriend looked like a walking fantasy.

After you’d said hello to everyone, the two of you ended up separated, the girls heading out to the dancefloor, some of the guys heading to the bar to grab drinks and snacks, and the rest settling into the VIP section.

Andrei plopped down between Jesperi and Freddie, removing his costume’s hat and putting it on the little table in their section, tuning out most of the conversation happening within the first ten minutes and instead finding himself focused on you and that beautiful dress out on the dance floor.

His eyes were glued to you as you danced, lost in the familiar way your hips moved and how carefree you were. Other people may have needed a little bit of alcohol in them to be so uninhibited, but you didn’t. You never had.

Watching you now, it reminds him of the first night he met you.

It had been earlier this year, when the guys had been having a particularly rough week of games, and they’d gone out to a club to relieve some stress.

You’d been there with some of your friends, and Andrei had been feeling a little bit too confident after a few drinks. He’d locked eyes with you barely ten minutes after he’d arrived and couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole night, couldn’t seem to find the need to wander more than ten feet out of your orbit.

He finally found the courage to approach you after Martinook had all but threatened to send Freddie after you first, pushing off the bar and heading over to you. 

He tried the gentlemanly approach, introduced himself properly by taking your hand, and from that first touch there was this crazy electric wildfire of sexual tension that neither of you seemed to be able to deny. You didn’t seem disturbed by him being five years younger than you, and he couldn’t have cared any fucking less about you being twenty eight. 

He worried for maybe half a second about you not being able to understand him through his accent, but you had no problems with it, even beyond the blaring music of the club. Then, he offered to get you a drink or a bottle of water - whatever you wanted really, he didn’t care - before asking if you minded if he joined you for a dance.

One dance became two, then four, then six, and then the next thing he knew, you both had locked yourselves in a storage closet down the back hall of the club and he had you pinned against the wall, his jeans and boxer briefs around his thighs, your dress hiked up to your waist, thong pulled to the side, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you had to bite down on the meaty flesh of his shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly. 

You’d fucked twice in that closet before you took him back to your place and fucked another two times. In the morning, you’d managed to contain yourselves in the shower, but Andrei lost all restraint and licked your pussy on your kitchen table until your throat grew hoarse and your legs shook so much your table started to squeak.

He managed to rein it in and take you on a date two days later, and then you invited him out for dinner another three days after that. After about ten dates without any sexual interactions at all, and about a month in total of you actually knowing each other, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, and you both celebrated when you said ‘yes’ to him by locking yourselves in at his place and fucking like bunnies for about two days.

Andrei had learned everything about what you liked in bed in that first month, and you’d learned everything about what he liked. 

You’d also learned enough about one another that Andrei was pretty sure he’d end up marrying you and having about five or seven kids within the next seven years, because there was no possible way he’d ever manage to find someone as brilliant as you ever again.

And at this point, you’d barely been dating a year. 

He’d say he was probably moving too fast in any other circumstance, but he was pretty sure you were on the same page.

He feels a nudge in his side, and Andrei glances over, momentarily shocked because he’d completely forgotten his friends were dressed in costumes, and the orange fabric around Freddie’s eyes nearly scared him shitless for a second. 

“You want another drink? The chipmunks lost a bet so they’re buying for the night.” Freddie says, gesturing to where Jesperi had gotten up and was now writing down orders on his phone. 

“Sure,” Andrei says. “I’ll take one.”

Jesperi points to where you are on the dance floor and asks Andrei “One for her too, right?”, and when Andrei nods, Jesperi gives him a thumbs up before stalking over to the bar.

He has a feeling it’s going to take Jesperi awhile to put in the drink orders for the whole section, so Andrei resumes watching you, reminiscing on the day you first met and chiming in on the conversations around him every now and again.

You finally wander over with the girls once the drinks arrive, and Andrei immediately opens his arms, feeling content when you settle into his embrace and onto his lap. He hands you your drink, careful to keep your hair out of your face when you take a sip.

There’s a sound of fake retching, and you and Andrei cut your eyes to where Jesperi’s making faces at the two of you. You roll your eyes, settling into Andrei a little more, and he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you to him.

“Jealous, KK?” One of the other girls asks, and Jesperi’s nose scrunches.

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “I’m basically watching my older sister make out with one of my best friends. It’s disturbing.”

Andrei feels you stiffen in his arms, but Jesperi’s already turning away, and Andrei squeezes you gently. “Zajka?”

You turn to Andrei, a slightly stunned expression on your face. “I…does he really think of me that way?” 

“What way?” Andrei asks, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek. 

He can see the shock starting to settle in a little more. “Like an older sister?”

And though Andrei knows they’ve never really talked about it, because it’s not really a topic that would come up, he knows for certain the answer is yes. 

Especially after the way you looked after everyone during the beach trip this past summer, all Andrei heard for weeks during training camp and preseason was how much everyone missed your cooking, people asking how you were doing, and demands for him to bring you around more.

Since you’d barely been together for six months at that point, he didn’t push you about it at all because he didn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, even though he knew you liked everyone just fine. It was another thing he felt like would make it feel like this was going too fast, even though you’d probably be on the same page about this, too.

“I think a lot of them think that way.” He admits. “Pretty sure Freddie thinks of you as a younger sister. Burnsy too, to be honest.”

There’s a thoughtful look in your eyes now, and after a beat, you nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Is that…is that okay?” He asks, slightly unsure. He doesn’t know that he’s seen you this…contemplative before.

You turn to Andrei, and give him that dazzling smile of yours he loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. Just took me by surprise a little.”

He nods, sitting up a little more so he can press a kiss to the base of your neck. “They love you as much as I do.”

Andrei’s surprised when his kiss makes you shiver a little, and he pulls back a bit, raising a brow at you.

You flush, suddenly bashful. “I just…” He raises a brow when you seem to be trying to find the words to say, and you gesture with your head towards the dancefloor. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

Realization hits Andrei and he smiles, nodding. “It does, zajka.” 

A sly, cheshire smile works its way onto your lips, and Andrei feels his heart begin to pound in anticipation. “Let’s see just how well you can tempt me a second time, moye yabloko.” 

You’re downing the rest of your drink and getting up from his lap faster than he can blink, and then you’re heading back out to the dancefloor with the girls. 

As Andrei watches you walk away, he catches the wink you send him over your shoulder before you disappear into the crowd, and he smirks to himself. 

Da nachnetsya igra.

Let the games begin.

~ 

Drink in hand, Andrei makes his way through the crowd, his puffy apple costume coming in hand by parting the crowd a little as he moves - he even has the ridiculous hat on again - until he finally reaches where you are in the middle of the dance floor. 

He taps gently on your shoulder, and when you turn around, your eyes look up at him curiously, a small smile on your face.

Andrei leans down so you can hear him better, saying “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, and I thought I’d introduce myself and bring you a drink.”

It’s not exactly what he said that first night, but it’s close enough. So what if he skipped a few cheesy lines?

You lean back a little, staring at the drink in his hand before taking it with a small amount of hesitation. “Thank you,” you say back, leaning in like he had. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m Andrei,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it once when you tell him your name in return.

The nostalgia has those butterflies resurfacing in his stomach, and he tries his best not to smile like a total idiot. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You say, then smirk a little at his costume. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was warned to stay away from you.”

He laughs a little, stepping closer into your space. Bending down so he’s right next to your ear, he rests a hand on your waist and says “One bite won’t hurt.”

At your responding chuckle, Andrei feels goosebumps ignite on his arms. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s different this time,” he promises. “It’s just us. And there’s no punishment.”

“Sounds a little too good to be true,” you say, pulling away a little and taking a sip of your drink, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

Andrei rights himself, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” He gestures with his head towards a hallway that he’d confirmed about ten minutes ago had both a storage closet as well as what looked like an unused office full of boxes, but still came equipped with a couch and a perfectly solid desk.

He makes his way toward the hall, waiting for all of five minutes before you appear in front of him, the glass your drink was in now empty save for the cherry stem he already knew had a knot in it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joke, taking careful steps toward him. 

He holds a hand out, pleased when you take it, and he leads you toward the end of the hall. The door to the storage closet is on the left, and the door to the empty office is on the right. He places you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist from behind.

“Pick a door, zajka.” He says softly. 

You hum a little, taking a step forward. You open the door on the right first, but there’s a small noise that leaves you, and Andrei’s confused when you don’t take a step inside. You open the door to the left, and the second you see the closet, you spin around, smiling wickedly at him before pulling him inside.

He flips you the second he crosses the threshold, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against the wood, placing his arms on either side of your head. “Didn’t like the office?”

You shake your head, tilting your chin up, waiting. “Not the same.”

“I would’ve liked fucking you on the desk.” He admits, the image of it still fresh in his brain.

“You didn’t fuck me on a desk till I moved in with you.” You remind him.

He smirks. “Oh I remember,” he promises. “Hard to forget the time you made me come so hard I almost passed out.”

You shrug. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He drops one of his hands from the door only to bring it up between you, running a finger down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, your chest, before teasing at the neckline of your dress. 

“If you rip this dress before you get me in your bed, moye yabloko, you’ll be sorry.” You warn, but even so, your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his touch.

Andrei smirks. He’s never been one to shy away from his punishments.

Instead, he trails his hand down your dress and to the hem, pushing it up your thighs until he can reach under it to bring his fingers to your core, pleased when he finds the fabric of your thong already soaked. 

“May I, moya koroleva?” He asks sweetly, eyes focused on where his hand lingers. 

You nod, breath hitching a little when he pulls your thong to the side and runs his finger between your folds. “I want it like the first time.”

Andrei blinks, eyes darting back up to your face. 

That first night was intense - and beautiful - but also not the kind of sex the two of you have most often. He likes to please you, likes taking his time warming you up or worshiping you the way he’s learned that you like best. Other than the occasional quickie, you two rarely ever just get straight to it.

“Can you take me like this? Right now?” He checks.

“I can,” you say. You reach forward, fingers finding one of the belt loops of his pants and pulling him forward. “Please, malysh. I don’t want to wait.”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage. 

It’s rare that you’re the one pleading for him, that you’re the one asking for it this way, and he can feel the way his breath starts to stutter as he tries to maintain his composure.

The second he nods in agreement, it’s a race to get inside of you.

In a hurry, the two of you work to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. His aching cock springs free, and before you can reach for him, he’s bending down to lift you up and pin you against the wall, helping to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He balances you in one arm as you press your weight into the wall, reaching down to line his cock up to your entrance. The second he can feel it catch, he presses in at the same time that you angle your hips downward, and he pushes until he’s seated all the way inside and his hips press yours against the wall.

You take a gasping breath, head lolling back as your eyes squeeze shut, arms flying to his shoulders and nails digging into the skin as your pussy grips him tightly. 

“Zajka?” He asks, worried. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, breathing harshly through your nose. “Move, malysh, spasibo. I need you.”

Andrei has a sudden feeling he’s going to have a hard time trying to remember to breathe if you keep talking.

Carefully, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock rests inside, and then he pushes back inside in one brutal stroke that seizes the breath from your lungs once more.

“Just like the first time,” he reminds you, before setting a rough and steady pace. 

Your moans fill the room in seconds, and Andrei doesn’t care anymore about who can hear you or who can’t. 

Especially when he knows you couldn’t care less about it either.

This time, you’re not at Freddie’s house and worried about making a good impression. 

You’re here, with him, pretending like it’s the first night you met all over again, except this time there’s less to be cautious of for both of you.

Although…

If you do want it like it’s the first time again…

“You can’t moan too loud, kroshka.” He says, pressing in closer to you as his strokes slow a little, dragging himself in and out of you with precision. “Don’t want anyone to hear how pretty you are when you’re dripping on my cock, do you?”

Recognition flashes in your eyes like a bright flame, and you capture your lip between your teeth, nodding obediently. 

“Need something to bite down on, my beautiful Eve?” He murmurs, gathering you up in his arms and pushing until he’s flush against you, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do it, it’s okay.”

You wind your arms around his shoulder and lean forward, and when Andrei feels your lips on his neck, his whole body shivers, groaning at the way he can feel your teeth bite down before licking over the wound, then sucking a bruise into the skin.

That’s another thing the two of you don’t give a shit about anymore. 

Andrei’s all too proud to wear your marks like a badge of honor, so as you suck on his skin, feeling his pulse beneath your tongue, he knows you take notice of the way his cock drives deeper into you.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to manage a second round in this closet, too desperate to fill you up and then drag you home so he can do it over and over again.

When his hips stutter a little, you finally pull away from his neck, leaning back to examine your work, smiling proudly. “Such a pretty little thing, moye yabloko.”

Fuck.

It is just like the first night all over again.

Andrei remembers the dirty things you whispered to him then, too. He remembers how he’d never heard something so sultry, so sexy in his entire life. It somehow made him hornier, made him feel like he could go insane with how much it made him need you even more in that moment. 

It was like you knew exactly what to say and what to do to drive him insane, to make him feel like he would do anything to prove to you just how good he could be. 

“You’re the same good boy you were that first night, too,” You taunt again when he doesn’t respond, and a sharp hiss falls from his lips when you tug his hair harshly, prompting him to tilt his head up so he can look at you.

His knees nearly buckle, and he thrusts hard into you once in warning. 

“You can’t say things like that,” he breathes out, focusing on fucking into you in deep, hard strokes. 

“Why?” You breathe out, bringing your hands from his shoulders and tossing the hat of his costume off of his head before sinking your fingers into his hair. 

He shakes his head. Any other man might be embarrassed, but that’s never been a thing between the two of you, and especially not when you’re being intimate. 

“It makes me…u menya babochki.” Andrei admits, trying his best to stay focused. I get butterflies.

“Babochki?” You ask, tone just shy of a whine, slightly mocking him. “Do I give my pretty shchenok butterflies?”

He looks up when he feels your hand on his cheek, staring into your eyes, and he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm just looking at you. You run your thumb over his lips as they part, resting the pad of it on his tongue before his cheeks hollow, sucking gently on the digit. 

You smirk, eyes rolling back in your head when Andrei gives a particularly hard thrust, causing your back to arch a little more and your body to press further against his. He can tell you’re getting closer, can read all your little tells. 

The way your chest starts to heave, how he can see your nipples starting to poke through the fabric of your dress, the way your body starts to go lax, thumb slipping from his mouth and hand moving to rest on his chest instead. 

“You gonna come for me?” You ask, tone somewhere between taunting and begging. 

Andrei nods furiously, welcoming the molten lava spreading across his spine as he finds solace inside of you. “Da, moya koroleva.”

“Gonna come inside of me?” This question is definitely a taunt. “Gonna fill up the pretty stranger the very first night?”

“I did it once,” he reminds you. “I’d do it again, but only for you.”

Your blinding, satisfied smile takes over your face and Andrei feels his heart fall to your feet in adoration. “Come with me,” he begs.

You nod, tilting your hips a little until he’s hitting that beautiful spot inside, and your eyes flutter shut, pussy squeezing tighter around him.

He loses all control after that, cock pounding into you in a frenzied, nearly manic pace, trying so hard to keep going for you while also chasing his own orgasm. 

When he feels you lock him in that familiar death grip, your come drenching his cock and making the slide oh so right, his eyes squeeze shut, and a loud, satisfied groan leaves his mouth as he throbs, spilling inside of you until he feels like he can’t breathe right.

For a moment, the two of you can only remain like that - you slumped and sated in Andrei’s arms and his hips pinning you to the wall. 

When he feels you begin to squirm, he carefully pulls out of you, then sets you back on your own two feet as gently as he can. He’s quick to locate a stack of paper towels behind him and grabs a few to help you clean up before pulling your thong back into place and tossing the paper towels into a trash can near the door.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, fussing with your dress.

Andrei nods, letting out a content sigh. “Beautiful as always. What about me?”

When you glance up at him, Andrei’s expecting the same, but then you blink, and a surprised laugh practically barks out of you. It startles him a little, and your hand is flying to cover your mouth, eyes glistening with delight.

“What?” He presses, starting to fuss with his own costume. “What is it?”

“Drei, how hard did you come?” You ask through fits of giggles.

“You said like the first night, so pretty hard.” He admits, unashamed. “Why?”

“You’re…you’re…” You can barely say it through your laughter. After a second, you take a deep breath, calming yourself, and then smile at him happily. “You’re as red as an apple.”

If he - apparently - wasn’t already red, he definitely would be by now. 

“How bad is it?” Andrei asks, rubbing at his face absently. 

You shrug. “No better and no worse than after a shift on the ice.”

He pouts, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s normal,” you explain. “It might be tough to explain away when we say goodbye to everyone in a minute, but it’ll be alright.”

“We’re going home?” He asks, already excited. 

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a little. “Pretty sure that’s what we did the first night, too.”

He smirks, stepping closer to you and pulling you to him by your waist. “We did a lot of things that first night. And the next morning.”

Your own cheeks flush now, and you nod. “That we did.”

“Feel like a trip down memory lane, kroshka?” He murmurs, already leaning down.

You rise up on your tiptoes, lips brushing against his when you say “I think that sounds lovely, malysh,” before kissing him softly.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Heartbreak on the Map

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: (Future) Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader, Ari x his ex mentioned

Summary: It’s okay to grieve and sulk after a breakup, but at some point, you need to gather yourself together and find the things that make you the happiest, best version of yourself. This is Ari trying to do that, but not perfectly.

Word Count: 1,643

Content/Warnings: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption, heartbreak and descriptions of how it’s dealt with, Ari being reckless but lucky, lovesick/hopeful thoughts despite a previously broken heart, angst high key stress me out, but did I just write some???, lmk if I missed any

Author’s Note: I honestly like this chapter way better than the first one. I’m not sure why it just flowed better and was way easier to write, despite being shorter. As always, likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are very appreciated. Please send me an ask, I’m begging.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song this is based off. I strongly suggest you listen, not only because it helps give vibes, but it’s also a really good song with creative lyricism.

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Ari’s breakup

This barstool knew his name by now, as he sat there sometime around midnight nursing another longneck beer, alongside a couple abandoned whiskey glasses. He’d asked around town if anyone had seen her. That girl. The one that did him wrong, left him here sitting like an old, sad country song. That kind that bars play all night long on the jukebox. He’d know that’s what they play, he was there every night. He didn’t know where to look anymore.

Ari had no idea where she could possibly be at this point. Could have been west of Texas, east of Tennessee, but he didn’t care. Because all that mattered was that she wasn’t here with him anymore. It all went south, and maybe she did, too, as he watched her taillights fade in a dust cloud. No goodbye kiss. Ari was left to wonder, with only whiskey on his lips.

He had hardly slept in weeks. The beer and whiskey sometimes had the opposite intended effect, not aiding his sleep, but keeping him up to overthink. The truth was, he knew why the relationship ended. It wasn’t his fault, and he could tell it wasn’t meant to be from the start. But he was mostly happy, and he thought that’s what he deserved: to be mostly happy and to settle down because it seemed that was all she wanted. But that’s all he was doing: settling. She never pushed him, unless it was to find a way to make more money and support her, but Ari didn’t truly want that life. He didn’t want to come home to a perfect little housewife. But she wanted that. And she kept pushing, and he kept molding himself to her demands, because love is compromise, right?

No. Not if it’s only on one side.

Despite knowing better in the back of his head, Ari convinced himself there was something he could do. Making use of another restless night, he threw the covers off and shuffled out of the bedroom and into the rest of his small shack of a cabin provided by his ranger job. He found himself sprawled at the dining room table with papers scattered all over, a magnifying glass in hand. He had looked through his old maps, trying to find all routes she could’ve possibly taken, but instead, all that he saw was heartbreak. She put it there. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a deep sigh in frustration. Frustration of wasted years, frustration at himself for trying to talk himself into something he knew was wrong. That’s why he never got a ring, even when she pushed. He knew it wasn’t meant to be. So she left, for someone who had her ring waiting.

Losing her was heart wrenching, but also, a relief. Slipping out of your uncomfortable shoes and unbuttoning your pants after a six-mile hike kind of relief. Ari knew the one for him was still out there, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still hurting. He needed to recover the places she’d been with new memories: starting with the living room. No need for the bedroom, at least. (Another product of the voice at the back of his mind that knew she wasn’t right.) So he flopped down on the couch, tv low in the background, staring up at the ceiling, humming one of the heartbreak songs from the bar until sleep embraced him.

Ari woke up with cramps in his back and a sore neck from curling up on the couch that was just barely too small for his tall, broad frame. It was still dark out. His phone was plugged in at the night stand by the bed, so he walked over to the kitchen. The clock on the stove read 5:48 am. Might as well start getting ready for the day. He put on a pot of coffee and opened the fridge to look for leftovers to heat up. While that was going, he shuffled back to his closet and slipped on his uniform, ready to start another day in the only place that gave him true peace: the mountains. (Luckily, the only other place she hadn’t tainted. She hated the out doors.)

Ari’s days carried on like this for weeks. Wake up too early. Make coffee. Go to work. Come home. Try and sleep. Look through old paper maps. He loved routine, it often kept him sane, but he was spiraling. He needed to figure out a new one. He was sick of moping around and he was sick of putting himself down like he had done something wrong. How was she still able to hold him back after being gone? He was going to start living his life for himself again. He needed to find the schedule and the things that truly made him happy. But first, dinner.

A few months later

One of the routine things that kept Ari sane now: cleaning the house. He needed a true, clean slate, so we went and cleared off the dining room table, nicely refolding the maps which had laid there for months. Despite him having been single for so long now, he kept them there. They used to give him peace and comfort. Ari liked his old, paper maps. It was easier to see it all laid out instead of crammed onto his tiny phone. His place was a lot like that: full of things he could do with his hands, like mini projects, instead of being glued to a screen all day. But she had tainted it: she tainted his favorite things. It wasn’t as bad now, but his nervous evergy kept building up and he needed to get out of there so he didn’t scream.

Another aspect of Ari’s healing: working out. Any time he got like this and couldn’t stand being in the small space anymore, he ran. He ran until he drove all those what-ifs and doubts out of his mind, along the mountain trails and out to the cliffs where it was just him and the sky, overlooking the small town below, dwarfed even more by the mountainous elevation. He slipped on his tennis shoes and bolted out the door as quickly as he could. The mid-week afternoon air was refreshing. All he could focus on was go farther. Go faster. He kept running and running, through the trails, and didn’t even have a second thought to look when crossing the road, the music blaring in his headphones making him unable to hear any cars approaching as they went along the mountain path. As he stepped out onto the road, Ari saw movement out of the corner of his eye and his head snapped. Before he knew it, anhorn sounded and a car swerved around him, skidding to a stop as it pulled over on the narrow mountain pass. Ari jumped back into the greenery lining the road, surprised at his own recklessness that he usually preaches against. Another SUV pulled over right behind the first as he heard a driver’s side door slam shut. He could faintly hear a conversation between two women, followed by one of them emerging from between the cars.

“Oh my gosh! I thought you were a bear! I almost hit you!”

Ari was in shock from how careless he was and how he watched his life flash before his eyes.

“I-it’s really my fault. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

He stood there with wide eyes, hands on his hips, shoulders rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths, truly in bewilderment at what had just gone down, as well as bewilderment at the woman standing before him. Something about her was so captivating that he had to force himself to look away after taking her in, hoping she didn’t think he was a creep from his reaction.

“Um, it’s ok, I just think you need to be more careful. Listen, I don’t wanna be pulled over on this stretch of road for too long, God forbid a real bear, or someone without good reflexes comes around, but, I’m glad you’re not hurt. Take care.”

And with that she rushed away, leaving Ari standing there in shock before he could even squeak another word out. He watched her and the trailing SUV until they rounded the bend and went further up the mountain.

Huh, there was only one house Ari knew of up there. It’s where an older couple used to stay during the summers, and he had only been inside once to help fix something after they sought out the ranger in his cabin, but he remembers it having the best view he could imagine, despite the cabin’s modest size. It was pretty much the perfect home. What a was she doing going up there?

Realizing he had stayed standing eerily close to the road for too long, Ari decided it was probably time to head back since the sun had started to set. He trudged through the tall trees and deeply inhaled the sharp pine scent that opened his airways and comforted him as it wrapped around him like a blanket. This was his domain, and he truly enjoyed the sanctity of his environment, but he still wished he had someone to share his favorite things with. An equal partner who appreciated this environment as much as him, but still had their own wants and didn’t force him to be what he wasn’t.

As he made his was back to his front steps, Ari looked up at the unobstructed stars that danced into the sky during his long walk home, shining brightly like every night. He couldn’t help but wonder if the one for him was looking up, sharing the same sky as him. The one who could one day share his heart.

Next >

[space-mermaid-writing]

Ironstrange - they meet pre-ironman and stick with each other through it all/sarcasm all the way pointing out each others flaws and working on it together.

This is a lot of ground to cover, so I offer you snippets :) Also, this somehow became a songfic halfway through. 'Through the years' by Kenny Rogers, because the lyrics are so very fitting.

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Word count: 0.8k (plus the song lyrics)

I can't remember when you weren't there When I didn't care for anyone but you I swear, we've been through everything there is Can't imagine anything we've missed Can't imagine anything the two of us can't do

The first time they met was at a medical conference. Stephen was there to give a speech. Tony was there to donate money and to party, and because Pepper had forced him to make an appearance. It was good press for SI or something like that.

For once he had decided to listen because he remembered medical students to be big party animals.

Well, it turned out that changed after they graduated college and worked real jobs. It wasn’t the worst party he had ever been to but he was still very bored.

That was until a young doctor approached him at the bar and flirted with him bluntly. Tony was flattered – still he didn’t intend to make it too easy for the man. No matter how handsome he was.

“So you’re some kind of surgeon prodigy? That don’t impress me much.”

“Shania Twain, 1997. Although loosely interpreted.”

Tony didn’t indicate with any reaction if he had actually planned to make it sound like those lyrics. But he did gesture to the barkeeper to bring a drink for Strange; and that had to mean something.

It gave Strange a boost of confidence. “I will have you impressed by the end of the night.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement. He had wanted to pick apart Tony Stark’s brain ever since he specialized in neurology. And now he had the chance.

Through the years, you've never let me down You've turned my life around The sweetest days I've found, I've found with you Through the year, I've never been afraid I've loved the life we've made And I'm so glad I've stayed right here with you Through the years

“Why do you have to go to Afghanistan for that demonstration?” Stephen asked – again. “Rhodey said it would be perfectly fine to do it in Nevada.”

Of course Rhodey – that traitor – had told him that. The two had joined forces against him on this issue.

“Because I can,” he replied – again. “It’s called customer service.”

Stephen looked away. “I think it’s the worst idea you ever had and that you are an idiot for doing this.”

Tony saw it in Stephen's face that he wasn’t happy about his answer. They had already argued so much about this, and Tony was tired of it.

What Stephen and he had wasn’t a relationship. Not really. Both had agreed on that. And this was part of why.

“Thanks for establishing that. You’re welcome to leave anytime.” Like everyone else did who was fed up with Tony. There always came the point when people no longer tolerated his bullshit.

Stephen’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t move. “Yeah, no. I’m not letting you go that easily.” He was neither impressed by his words nor his behavior.

Tony let out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. He preferred arguing to Stephen walking out of him.

I can't remember what I used to do Who I trusted, whom I listened to before I swear, you've taught me everything I know Can't imagine needing someone so But through the years it seems to me I need you more and more

Tony was standing in Stephen's apartment. It felt familiar yet odd. Things were still in the same place as before he had left, but something seemed to have changed. He was exhausted by the past month he had lived in that hidden cave.

It took Tony far too long to realize what that was: there was no trace of him in the apartment anymore. Before there had been small items scattered all around: a book, tablets, clothes… it was all gone. And Tony didn’t know what that meant. He had been gone for months and he didn’t know if Stephen had moved on in the meantime.

Tony felt vulnerable because maybe for the first time in his life he didn’t know what to say. He couldn't predict Stephen's reaction.

“So you got kidnapped in Afghanistan. That don’t impress me much,” Stephen finally said in his best ‘I told you not to go’ voice.

Tony smiled, still tired, as a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Through the years, through all the good and bad I knew how much we had I've always been so glad to be with you Through the years, it's better every day You've kissed my tears away As long as it's okay, I'll stay with you Through the years

“It’s going to be alright.”

Tony meant it, but for Stephen it was a lie. He didn’t see how he could ever be alright again. He was ruined. He had lost his hands – the single most important part of him.

“Spare your breath,” he hissed coldly. He didn’t want to hear Tony’s words of comfort. They meant nothing to Stephen.

Tony sighed, his eyes on the golden ring on the table next to his husband's hospital bed. Stephen wasn’t able to wear it, his hands were still bandaged. Maybe he would never be able to wear it again. Even without the promise Tony had made on the day he had given the ring to Stephen, he wouldn’t waltz out just like that.

“Nice try. But I won’t let you go that easily.”

Through the years, when everything went wrong Together we were strong I know that I belonged right here with you Through the years, I never had a doubt We'd always work things out I've learned what love's about, by loving you Through the years

Tony took in his husband's appearance; the goatee, the blue robes, and the subtle muscles under them. He looked good – far better than the day Stephen had run away to Nepal on a whim. It seemed like he found what he had been looking for and Tony was glad to see him in a better place.

Still, it didn’t hurt to grill him a little more; just as a revenge for the radio silence.

Tony crossed his arms. “So you’re a wizard now? That don’t impress me much.”

Through the years, you've never let me down You've turned my life around The sweetest days I've found, I've found with you Through the years, it's better every day You've kissed my tears away As long as it's okay, I'll stay with you Through the years

They were on Titan and their chances to win looked rather slim. Still, there was hope; as long as they stuck together through it.

Tony stepped next to Stephen as they watched together Thanos arrival on that vast planet.

“So you’re that purple grape that gave me nightmares for years?” His nano-sunglasses were back on his nose for the sole purpose to look over their rim judgmentally. “That don’t impress me much.”

He heard Stephen roll his eyes.

[shadamyheadcanons]

What songs do you think that fits Amy and Shadow?

My knowledge about Shadow is only a few so I'm not sure about him

For Amy, it will be Happy Synthesizer and Ikanaide/Don't Go and various bubbly and lively songs

Combining these two for convenience.

First one - I’m glad you asked!

Love your ideas, especially Ikanaide. It sounds pretty upbeat at first, but then you pay attention to the lyrics, and...ouch. Feeling left behind and trying to pretend she’s okay with it? Yeah. That’s Amy. Here’s a link I found for an English version.

And here’s one for Happy Synthesizer.

As for which songs I associate with them, my Song & Dance tag covers the topic pretty well, especially this post.

Given how often I think about these two, though, I’m always finding more examples. There’s one song that I feel fits Amy better than any other. I wrote a headcanon about it on January 7th, 2022. I correctly predicted in that headcanon that a bunch of Amy-related stuff would happen that year--right down to her getting a new theme song, even!

I still think my song idea works better than the one in the Frontiers DLC, though. That one feels kind of bland to me. Yeah, she trusts her cards, but she’s supposed to be a go-getter! She reads the cards and then blazes her own destiny using them as a guide. Her mild Frontiers theme gives off the vibe of someone who’s letting fate happen to them, not the other way around. Amy is kind, but she’s not passive.

Laineybug04 correctly pointed out in this post that “House of Gold” by Atreyu fits Shadamy quite well, and I included “Wait for You” in In a Pinch, but it doesn’t stop there. The more I listen to Atreyu, the more I hear Shadamy, and I’m glad you gave me an excuse to point it out! “House of Gold,” “Wait for You,” “Terrified,” “Super Hero”...and “I Would Kill/Lie/Die for You” is pretty much spot-on for Shadow’s brand of dedication. It’s more romantic than the title makes it sound, haha.

They’re not all necessarily romantic in nature, but it’s very easy to imagine Shadow singing them about Amy.

I want to call special attention to “Stronger Than Me,” though.

The speaker starts by showing insecurity.

Yup.

He fears opening up and showing his entire self because he thinks others will be scared by what they see.

Yup.

He admits connecting with him might be complicated sometimes, but he remains steadfast because the relationship is important to him.

And, uh...this is from the chorus:

“When I was lost, You were always there, my guiding light, You are my ward, my compass ROSE, my lighthouse in the night”

Do I even need to explain? She’s one comma away from being name-dropped. The song’s title fits perfectly, too. It takes a lot of strength to always look for the best in people and put your faith in the goodness of others. It’s so easy to give up. Shadow would legitimately admire her for it. She deserves to know how special she is for that, and who better to tell her than someone whose entire life was changed by that strength and kindness?

Here’s a detailed breakdown of the song and lyrics. Trust me, you’ll need the lyrics sheet.

Second ask:

Yes, absolutely! I think of him as liking modern rock and metal, and also jazz because it would’ve been all the rage when he was made. I’ve mentioned this before, but if I had to pick one band to be his favorite, I’d say Nine Inch Nails. It’s heavy, intense, angsty, and complex, and it has some of the same electronic, bass-centered vibes as Shadow’s earlier themes. Compare NIN songs like Discipline and The Perfect Drug with Rhythm and Balance (White Jungle’s theme) and Shadow’s original character theme, Throw it all Away, both by Everett Bradley. Trent Reznor also has a deep voice like Shadow and Bradley do. NIN could do a mean cover of Throw it all Away, now that I think about it...

I don’t think it’s the best idea for canon, even the questionably-canon Twitter Takeover, to cite real people/artists. It’s fine for fans like us to do it, but the official franchise is different. Humans are flawed and complicated. When you start including real people, you could potentially do something awkward like, say...connect your series built on environmentalism with someone who uses a private jet.

Y’know. Hypothetically.

That’s why I love what the social media team did with Hot Honey in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. A fictional band doesn’t carry that risk, and they’re seamless within the Sonic universe. Fans like us can’t get caught on whether or not Shadow would enjoy their music because none of us can actually hear them.

Funnily enough, your ask aligns perfectly with what makes Hot Honey so cute for these two. Shadow canonically doesn’t like Hot Honey at all:

No questions asked, no headcanons needed.

The reason he agreed to go was entirely, 100% because Amy asked him to. I think that’s far sweeter than the Taylor Swift thing. And I’ll be able to prove that when I finish writing Sweeter Than Honey. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about it!

No offense to anyone who does enjoy Taylor Swift’s music, of course. Different strokes for different folks. :)

[drabblemesilly]

Alex Lyon #1

Requested by Anon: Can you please please write a short one about Alex Lyon of the Red Wings?

*I got you anon! Who's just as happy that he's been getting to see so much action lately? Def one of the most beautiful men in hockey! Enjoy! :)*

Word count: 1,006

Oh, he’s in a mood. You can hear Fireflies by Owl City playing on loud even before you opened the front door to Alex Lyon’s house. Good or bad, not sure yet but there’s a reason you only hear that song after a hard loss or a phenomenal win. Seeing that their last game was two nights ago and the next one is tomorrow, you’re in unknown territory here.

The strong smell of garlic enveloped you as you enter the house.

“In here,” you heard him shout above the music – which was restarting. Oh, so Fireflies is on loop. Interesting.

On one of your very first dates, Alex mentioned that Fireflies helped him calm down, “it helps me get grounded every time I get overwhelmed,” he said. Something about the instruments or lyrics, you really didn’t pay attention to him much then. His eyes were distracting and his pretty, pretty face was overwhelming. Ha! 

You found him in the kitchen, wielding a knife, flour streaks all over his face and neck. Oh gosh, is that a piece of onion stuck in his hair?

“What is this?” you laughed, putting your purse on the counter and peering, “salmon vs Alex Lyon?” you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, “honey, I think you’re gonna lose,” your nose crinkled, “you already smell like fish!”

He giggled, the kind of giggle that only he can do, music to your ears, honestly, “make yourself useful and peel some potatoes, pretty girl!”

“Pretty girl? Oh buttering me up too,” you smiled, getting some potatoes from the sink, “you seem cheerful today. Should I run for the hills?”

His grin even got wider, “I’m starting in the next five games, I got the call this morning.”

Dropping the potatoes, you gasped, “Alex, what did you do?”

He looked up, eyes wide and wild, “what? What?”

“What did you do, Alex?” you feigned seriousness.

“What?” he asked again, all serious and panicky now, “what did I do?”

You grinned, eyes sparkling, “to James Reimer.”

Alex visibly relaxed, finally catching the joke, “you’re mean,” he pouted, “no salmon for you.”

Shrugging, you jumbled over to him and nearly tackled your smelly boyfriend, “I’m kidding, you dork,” jumping up to kiss his flour-covered neck, “wow, Alex, wow. That’s good, right? We’re happy, right?”

He nodded, squeezing lemon into the salmon marinade, “we’re very happy,” he pointed to the fish, “we’re having salmon!”

He stopped chopping or whatever he was doing to the fish for a second and looked at you, “so when are you finally gonna have me teach you to skate?”

Reaching out to bump him a little, you smiled, “now that,” you smirked, washing your hands and pouring some red wine in a discarded glass, “is something for later,” drinking a little wine, you peered over his shoulder at whatever he’s concocting, “there’s a reason you’re a goalie buddy,” you joked.

“I hope you choke,” he laughed, taking your glass and sipping from it, “I’m joking,” he said in the next breath. Alex never figured out how to read your reactions to his jokes so he always felt the need to clarify.

“I know,” you assured him, “I’m still not trusting you to teach me to skate.”

He stomped a foot, “but I’m a professional hockey player. I’m on skates the same amount of time I’m in shoes.”

The foot stomping caused a belligerent curl fall on his forehead, you snickered at that. Sometime he just looks like a lost little puppy. Or a kitten. If he has his way, he’d be a lost secy kitten.

You reached to tug on the curl, “honey, you’re not Sidney Crosby.”

“I have his butt, though,” he offered.

“Still a no,” you laughed, “don’t worry, cutie, you’re more good-looking. And you’re a better goalie.” You gulped, “I think,” you said, “I hope,” you scoffed, “you never know with Sidney Crosby, he’s probably better at it than Linus Ullmark.”

Alex Lyon is one of the best goalies in the NHL and you will die on that hill. Did people think he was overrated when he skipped his last year in the NCCA to turn pro? Yes. Did he get shuffled around from Philly to North Carolina to Florida and now to Detroit? Yes. Did he once question how good he was at hockey because he couldn’t seem to get his footing in the NHL? Yes.

Did those ever diminish the fact that you believe him to be one of the best goalies in the NHL right now? No. You will die on that hill.

“If Sidney Crosby is a better goalie than me, I wouldn’t even be surprised. Linus Ullmark is definitely better than me.”

Your nose automatically scrunched, “what are you talking about?” popping a slice of cheese, you bent over the counter and winked, “I think you’re the best goalie in the NHL right now.”

He snorted, “let’s not go that far,” shifting so he can give you a loose hug.

“Not the best cook,” you pointed at the discarded fish, “but definitely the best goalie. At least for me,” you smiled, hand snaking around his back. 

Resting your chin on his chest, you took a little sniff, “yup, still smelling like fish.”

He looked down and placed a small kiss on the top of your head, “I think I’ll be fine. I like it here.”

You’ve never seen Alex get more excited than when he signed with the Red Wings. That meant you were moving to Michigan and leave so many of your new-found friends in Florida but you’ll probably follow him to the ends of the world if he asked. At this point, you won’t be surprised if the sun actually shone out of his ass.

“You will be fine, Ally,” you whispered, rubbing his back, “one step at a time.”

He sighed, another round of Fireflies starting over, the fourth time since you got here, “it takes a little time but yes,” he agreed, “one step.”

“So,” you clapped, “about that…” you gestured to the fish.

He snickered, “pizza?”

“Pizza it is."

[lowkeyrobin]

okay i’ve been requesting this idea with other fandoms i’m in for a while and it’s not being done so i don’t know if they don’t want to write or or can’t figure out how to write it BUT…

you belong with me by t swift ♡ with our beloved freddie badlinu ♡

basically like reader got introduced to freddie by tommy and fell head over heels (definitely not me projecting /hj) but he just thinks of reader as a friend and eventually starts dating someone else yada yada i love this song

you don’t have to write it but i just love this idea (and song ♡)

-🦕 anon

OKG HI 🦕 ANON YES KF COURSE!! RJJSNSNSNS YESYESYES KM SO EXCITED FOR THIS, there's a lot of ts lyric references here bc I used the premise of ybwm but the feelings of her other songs iykwim; hopefully I did you justice with this and thank you SO MUCH for requesting Freddie bc I've been wanting to write for him again and I couldn't think of any good ideas LMFAO

BADLINU ; you belong with me

summary ; you're head over heels for Freddie, but he doesn't seem to feel the same way

warnings ; language

track ; you belong with me ; taylor swift

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

The day you'd met Freddie through Tommy five years ago, you instantly fell head over heels. You didn't know exactly why, but there was no hiding your feelings anymore, it was so hopelessly obvious, even to Tommy.

The blonde, your best friend, tried to set you guys up here and there, alas, with no luck.

At first, you were convinced you were getting that usual feeling where you kind of fixate on your friend until it disappeared, until it never really did. You talked with him constantly, learned more about him, and learned about the music he liked and his hobbies.

He had an infectious smile that could light up the whole town and a giggle to make you fall to your knees as you felt something in your stomach become fuzzy with a tossing and turning motion. You wonder what it must be like to grow up that beautiful, with his hair falling into place like dominoes, his eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting you want to jump in.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love him, like he was a walking masterpiece. Not many people see him like how you do, his little imperfections and beauties.

You couldn't stop him putting roots in your little dreamland, your house of stone and his ivy grows, covering you in himself. You thought of him at every waking moment, catching yourself doing it frequently when you didn't mean too. If you saw or heard something that reminded you of him, it'd send a wave of dopamine through your brain, infecting you with the disease of happiness with a smile.

You remember him taking a bus to your house in the middle of the night, needing your comfort since you were still awake at that hour, and also the only person he felt safe talking to about what he was upset about it. You were the person to make him laugh when he was about to cry, the one to understand him on deeper levels than most, the one to know his story and his dreams.

Your viewers and fans would often ship you two, drawing fanart, writing fanfiction, and spamming y/s/n in chat whenever you had one of those moments. You streamed together whenever you could, and made YouTube videos frequently featuring each other.

You sat on your balcony at night together sometimes, star gazing.

He says "Look up"

Your shoulders brushed. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough. Enough for you, at least.

He keeps a picture of you two in his office at home downtown. It hangs on the wall with many other pictures of him with his friends. You thought you felt it in the silence and in the way home, with the lights out watching movies. But you seemed to be wrong.

Why couldn't he see that you were right there? Had the thought ever crossed his mind that maybe you loved him so much that maybe he belonged with you? Why couldn't he see that you were the one to understand him, who'd been there all along?

He found a girl he liked, and started officially dating her a month or two ago. After that, you'd never lost hope that maybe he'd see you, but within all the losing more and more hope, Tommy was there for you. He didn't exactly know how to comfort you, but reassured you that it was normal to feel this way, and that you'd move on with time.

You seemed to be the only person to not find love, you felt like you were cursed to be alone forever and watch the one person you truly loved go and love someone else. You couldn't move on, everything reminded you of him, every forest themed candle at the market, every pebble on the seaside, every star in the sky.

You knew he was happy at least, but you just wished that something inside of him would see that you were right there.

Over time, you distanced yourself, though wanting to remain friends with him. You just couldn't seem to see him without his girlfriend, and it hurt. Everytime you remembered that there was no point in trying, it broke your heart even more. It became so bad to the point that it was unhealthy, leading you to send him a text before leaving for a little trip to America.

It read 'Stay beautiful'.

You sent it just before getting on the plane, ridding you of any worry of receiving a message during the long flights. You'd only told Tommy and Tubbo that you were leaving, considering you streamed with them frequently and would probably be the first to notice you disappearing.

You decided a little trip to Folley Beach, South Carolina would be your therapy. Four thousand dollars for a week stay in a solid three star condo wasn't going to work, though. You had some connections, however, getting you a cheaper condo considering it was only you, and you'd be spending a month or two. Six thousand was much better than the probably forty thousand you'd have to pay for that, thank God. Yeah, maybe using your save-up-money wasn't the best idea, but you needed it at the moment.

Your mental health had been declining for a while, and you felt stupid for being so dramatic about the situation with Freddie. But, a trip to the beach and the opportunity to experience things you never had and make some content out of it wasn't something you'd pass up on.

From trying bubble tea to the fresh, clean, oceanside air, it was like a daydream. You took so many photos and videos, sending them to some friends and saving them for a video.

Trying all the food was amazing, which you probably gained a solid ten pounds from. The long walks along the island, down the beach, and down the graffiti road to the other side of the beach were sweltering hot but therapeutic to you.

Once you returned to the UK, opening your front door, you're surprised to see Tommy, Freddie, Tubbo, and Becky in your house, cleaning up for you. Tommy had a spare key to your place, which is probably how you got in. You were confused, but got a little uncomfortable seeing Freddie, especially without his girlfriend on a Sunday afternoon. You'd been gone for two months with nearly no contact, maybe something changed.

You still had feelings for the red-haired boy, but you lost hope on him ever seeing how he felt about you during your trip. You'd gotten over it and you were on your path to just moving on.

"Hi" Tommy smiles, giving you a wave as he stands up, "Sorry, uh, we just came to clean for you since you've been gone for like, ever-"

"It's fine" You reply, "I mean, I could've just cleaned it myself, guys."

"Well, we came over for something else, but we thought you were coming back next Sunday, not this Sunday" Becky explains, looking to the boys for a nod or agreement, or an excuse since she already knew what your next question would be.

"Came for what?" You ask, setting your bags down on the floor, deciding they could wait.

"Uh-" The blonde begins before the shorter brunette speaks for him.

"We were gonna throw you a welcome home party"

"Oh"

Silence condemns you for a moment before you speak again.

"Well, uh, thanks. But, I'm gonna unpack" You pick up your belongings, taking them back to your bedroom, leaving them with a little wave.

Christ, that was so awkward. What's wrong with you? Since when had you gone cold to your friends?

The second you sat down, you felt the wave of regret. Freddie was the first to come in and ask if you were okay, though.

"Hey, are you okay? You're either tired and jetlagged or upset to, uh, probably see me, " He mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "And before you say anything, I was a dick for not seeing how you felt about me, and I was completely blind, and I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do at the moment, but I wanted to genuinely apologize, because I made you feel like you had to leave home because you were so uncomfortable because of me"

"Freddie..." You sigh, setting your electronics from your bag down on your bed, "It's fine. I didn't leave because of you, I left because I just needed a break from here, nothing is your fault. I'm on my path to moving on, so don't make it more awkward than it already is" You chuckle, sitting on the bed across from him as he stands in the doorway. "I swear, if you apologize one more time I will kick your ass"

Freddie smiles and nods, "Thank you. Are you sure this isn't going to ruin anything between us..? I don't wanna lose you as a friend"

"That's what I was asking you!" You giggle, "But yeah, unless you fuck up"

His eyes slightly widen, playing into the bit, "I won't, your majesty."

"Good"

[peaky-shelby]

Your Mark | Bellingham [2]

Request: This is a request for Bellingham please. I hope it's okay that I asked for my own line. "We were good together right. It wasn't all in my head."

« read part 1

Pairing: Bellingham x reader

Writer's note: VERYYY short but i wanted to finish this one with a happy ending and it's been sitting on my drafts for a while.

Taglist: @1-800anklebully @funrabbit @maispace @suzysface @mrs-bellingham

It was raining and it was freezing. I had my hands hidden in my pockets, jumping up and down just to try to keep myelf warm while I waited for my boyfriend outside of his training campus. He said he’d only be 5 minutes. It had been 15 so far and i wished I had taken his car keys so I could at least wait for him there. All my shelter for now was the tiny kiosk over the entrance, while I watched puddles and rivers being created by the tough rain. The door swung open and I turned my body, waiting to finally see him but the figure coming out was taller, different. He had his eyes on his phone, it lighted his face. Bellingham. For some reason, seeing him made me feel better. He noticed me, his eyes widening.

“What the bloody hell you out here for?” I didn’t answer, just shrugged my shoulders, sniffing back the cold. “oh bloody mother-“ he shook his head, figuring out the answer by himself. “his ma never taught him to not leave a woman waiting?”

“He probably got up with something-“

“its bloody raining.” He topped my voice. Like it was obvious I shouldn’t be defending him. His eyes softened quickly when I made a step back, looking way. I heard him unzipping his rainproof jacket, my gaze returning to him in seconds as he used it to cover my body. I tried to shake it away but he wouldn’t bother. I searched for his eyes while he pulled the zipper up, his all too familiar warmth sticking on my body. He looked at me, letting out a heavy breath that carried heavy curses he wasn’t going to say to my face. “come with me.” I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not letting you stay here. We’ll wait in my car. Come on.”

“Jude please—”

“don’t make me carry you in the rain.” His hand found my arm pulling me away from the safety of the kiosk. The two of us running at his car on the parking lot. He unlocked it and I hid myself inside quickly. I could smell him all over, I could smell the memories too. Long drives going nowhere, music loud, windows down, screaming on top of our lungs to lyrics of our favorite songs. I was so tempted to click on the radio, put the music on, muscle memory never disappears I guess because my finger almost reached for it. He took hold of my hand, reached for my other on too, grasping them together. He rubbed them and breathed on our hands, his eyes staring into mine the whole time. And I felt so small under his watch, all the muscles in body weakening, my head lowering to his. He didn’t move away even then, kissed my hands.

“He’s a twat.” He whispered, his lips moving against my skin.

“he’s trying.”

“He’s failing.”

“So did i.” I said it before I could stop myself. He moved my hands away from his lips. Looking at me more seriously now. “sometimes people fail at loving the ones they love. I mean we both did, didn’t we?” I slid my hands out of his grasp, placing them on my feet and looking forwards while rain replaced what would ones be an Ed Sheeran song, echoing in between us.

It made me tremble, how his finger reached for my loose wet her, pushing them behind my ear. I closed my eyes, sinking deeper on my seat, leaning on his touch because if I were to be honest. I could still taste his lips on mine and I had been craving that taste since then.

“what If we tried again?” His question came as a shock, it felt heavy on my shoulders and my eyes shot open to look at him. Go make sure he wasn’t laughing. “We both did mistakes but bloody hell every time I see you with him, I’m losing my mind. Don’t look at me like that, please—“ he brought his face closer to mine, his lips ghosting over mine, thousands promises hanging from his tongue.

All I could master to ask was “why?” my voice coming out more broken than I thought it would. I punched his chest, trying to remind him the pain that I had I caused him. “why would you forgive me?”

“you think I can’t see the only reason you’re still with him Is because you’re punishing yourself—”

“that’s not true—”

“You can’t lie to me. We see through everything, you told me that. Remember? You knew when I fucked up—you saw it in my eyes, same way I see it in yours.”

“see what Jude?”

He hesitated, his hand crawling behind my neck to pull me closer “you don’t love him, you never did—” I stared at his lips, good god how much I wanted to kiss them “you never look at him, the way you look at me. And I’ll never be able to look at another woman the way I look at you.”

“what makes you think it will end any differently?”

“cause we want it to” he said but it was more of a question than answer. “Don’t we?”

I stroked his face, remembering all the lines that used to be mine, all the features that were ones imprinted in the back of my head. Not seconds later, his lips were slammed on mine, giving me back the taste of summers in the beach under the sunset, the taste of midnights in his bed, the taste of winter nights next in the fireplace, reading novels and listening to the woods tremble. His hand messaged my skin and bones while pulling me closer. His lips travelling on my cheek and then down on my neck, biting me slightly like he was re-marking his area. And all I could think through the storm was that this was home.

[demoneyecandy]

When the Rain Washes You Clean, You'll Know - Pt 1

I’m joining the hallowed fanfic tradition of using song lyrics for titles. Cross-posted to my AO3

Work: When the Rain Washes You Clean, You'll Know WC: 4.3k Relationship: Satan x Reader, Satan x MC AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and some gendered terms for reader Warning: Explicit, Minor Hurt/Comfort

Description:  M/C is having some family issues. Who could understand better than Satan? And if he can take advantage of the opportunity to be with the person he's been pining for, and ruin his brother's day? Even better.

All of this had started when Satan had found her sulking in the library, looking out the window at the rain with a pillow clutched to her chest. She’d made the mistake of not answering with more than a shrug when he’d asked what was wrong – she couldn’t help it, his eyes were just so earnest and he seemed so concerned, lying felt wrong but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. Not quite sure why she drew the line at lying to a literal demon, but there it was. She’d thought maybe she’d averted one of the brothers’ standard over the top reactions when Satan left the library, only for him to return shortly with her rain jacket, boots, purse, and his own cartoon cat-covered umbrella. She recognized it as the one she had given him for his last birthday and her heart did skip a little, realizing that he actually used it.

“Satan, this really isn’t necessary” the human had tried to reassure him when he knelt down at her feet to trade her slippers for rain boots.

“Well, I say that it is” he replied in a flat tone, leaving no room for argument.

M/C sighed, resigning herself to whatever he had planned for their day. Grabbing her DDD, she sent off a text to Lucifer letting him know that Satan was taking her out. The last time she had let Satan whisk her away for an impromptu day trip he’d also pocketed her phone to ‘live in the moment’, but when she came back home to the other brothers forming a search party (complete with a full-on dossier including her last known whereabouts), she realized from his smug little grin that he was just messing with Lucifer. He’d had his ‘M/C Privileges’ revoked for two weeks, causing a meltdown of epic proportions.

After he’d guided her arms through the raincoat she rose to her feet and took her purse from the demon. He sent a sly grin her way, flipping the hood over her head playfully. Making an annoyed noise, she flipped it back to see Satan’s elbow out and ready for her to loop her own arm through. With that, she let her demon lead her out through the House of Lamentation and into a stormy Devildom afternoon.

Thirty minutes later they were drying off in a cat café that M/C was 80% certain had been founded for the sole purpose of getting in the fourth-born’s good graces. It totally worked. She cupped her hot chocolate between her sweater-covered hands and took joy in the presence of a little tortoiseshell cat curled up on her lap. The human knew better than to think Satan was going to let what he saw earlier go, but he knew better than to force her… yet. He seemed happy enough with that approach, holding his mug of tea in one hand and using the other to lavish affection on a lucky gray kitten that had hopped up onto the table. She laughed internally at the sight, knowing she was going to have to make sure that cat didn’t get smuggled home in her purse. They each basked in the experience of each other’s company, mostly in silence, until the café closed a few hours later.

It was on their walk home (after M/C caught Satan trying to smuggle no less than three kittens in his jacket) that the demon made his move.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighed. “Not really, but I don’t think you’re going to drop it”.

He turned to her and beamed, “Nope, not at all”.

“Fine. You know I don’t really have the best relationship with my Dad. He forgot my birthday again and still hasn’t said anything”.

Satan stopped in his tracks. “Wasn’t your birthday two weeks ago? Wait- again?”

“Yep, third time in a row” she kept walking, wanting to get out of the rain (and away from this conversation) sooner than later. Satan caught up with no difficulty.

“I thought my father was a dick, but that’s just plain rude”.

“Don’t you just prefer to call Lucifer your brother?”

“He’s my brother or my father depending on which is funnier at the time” he smirked.

She couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Fair enough”.

They walked in silence for another few minutes, side by side, their hands occasionally touching.

“So” Satan began, “want me to have a chat with him?”

She laid a hand on his shoulder and spun him to face her. The human looked up into his cat-like eyes, somehow summoning some sense of authority into her voice despite the full foot he had on her height-wise. “Satan, I cannot be more clear. You do not have my permission to torture my Dad. He’s a shit dad, but not bad enough to warrant intervention by demons, especially you”.

Satan glanced down at you proudly. “That just sounds like you’re acknowledging that I’m the best at what I do”.

She gave him an unimpressed look, not letting him derail her train of thought with his stupid, cute face. He pouted, folding his arms and making a noise. “Fine, but only because you’re cute when you’re serious”.

At his teasing M/C’s face turned bright red and she sped off towards their home, as though putting space between them physically would do anything to prevent him from realizing how flustered she was. She heard his laugh behind her and her heart beat even faster at the sound. She was so busy trying to somehow fast-walk away from her own feelings that she didn’t notice the crack in the pavement up ahead. The same crack that she successfully avoided daily on their walks to and from school, every weekday for who knows how long, but that she wasn’t able to successfully avoid this time. One second M/C was scooting through the rain and away from the demon that occupied her daydreams, the next she was face-first on the ground and that demon was by her side, checking her over for any injuries.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his face suddenly serious.

She couldn’t do anything but laugh at her own mistake, surprising Satan. His confusion morphed into a fond smile as he realized she really was okay, and he joined in. The human shrieked and laughed even harder as she felt herself be lifted up into his arms, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“Hold this?” Satan handed her the cat umbrella and shifted to get a more solid grip on his human. He quickly worked up to a jog to get them both home quickly, the rain seemingly not affecting his speed or agility at all.

Despite a brief stop in the front hall to ditch their rain gear the two of them somehow made it up to her room without being stopped by any of the other brothers. M/C was thankful, not sure she would’ve survived the embarrassment. Satan bumped the door shut with his hip and placed her on the ground. Before she could thank him for the day out and send him on his way so she could lick her wounds (literal and metaphorical) in private, he started digging in her closet for her towels.

“Go warm up in the shower, I’ll be back soon with a first aid kit to make sure nothing gets infected. Rainwater can be full of bacteria and pollution”. Once again, no room for argument. She took the towel he’d pulled out for her from his arms and headed into her bathroom, locking the door behind her.

M/C took what some may call a gratuitously long shower, but she’d had a long day - let her enjoy herself. The showers in the House of Lamentation were second only to the showers in the Demon Lord’s Castle – the water pressure and temperature was unreal. She didn’t know how she was going to adjust back to living in shitty apartments in the Human Realm, but that was a problem for future M/C. Hopefully very far in the future. Fully refreshed, she had almost forgotten that Satan hadn’t left for the night. If she wasn’t so used to strange demons coming into her room at all hours she might have been more startled to see Satan sitting on her bed with a first aid kit, waiting for her. What did startle her however was the fact that she could see Satan’s hair was unkempt and damp, and that he didn’t appear to be wearing more than a white towel wrapped around his hips. She dropped her dirty clothes into the laundry hamper, except for her bra which she hung to dry and planned to wash separately. It was one of her nice ones, she wasn’t going to let their washing machine eat up the lace.

“I was wondering when you’d be out. Did you have a nice shower?” M/C didn’t trust her voice to respond, so she just nodded when he turned to face her. He patted the bed next to him and smiled expectantly. She made her way over and sat down, clutching her towel closer to her chest. He gestured to her arm, and she swapped the hand gripping her towel so she could give him the arm closer to him to examine. Painstakingly, Satan examined both of her arms to disinfect and bandage the scrapes from her fall. He moved to the floor between her legs, kneeling before her. She tried to close her legs, but he put his hands between her knees to prevent them from shutting.

“Can I make sure there’s no injuries on your legs?” he asked in a calm tone and made eye contact with the human, almost like he was trying to calm an animal that seemed ready to bolt. She paused for a moment – she knew he would stop if she told him to. But… should she ask him to stop? To give her some space, leaving out the part about how him being between her legs gave her unholy thoughts? Satan was arguably the most trustworthy demon she knew. Not to mention her not-so-little crush on him. Honestly, that was what gave her pause. What if she made it weird? What if he just saw her as a friend? Well, she was already in the Devildom. If she died of embarrassment she wouldn’t have to go far. So, she took a deep breath, and as she exhaled she spread her legs to give Satan room to work. He thanked her under his breath and went to work, focusing on the scrapes on her knees. When he cleaned the knee that took the brunt of the fall she inhaled sharply at the sting of the disinfectant, only for one of his hands to find hers for comfort. The human looked down and saw the care in the way he touched her. It was almost funny for the personification of wrath to be so concerned with inflicting the slightest bit of pain on her and it only softened her heart further.

When Satan looked up, he saw the blush on his human’s cheeks and the affection in her eyes and decided to take a chance. He smiled and got up to throw away the trash and place the first aid kit in the bathroom for her to have supplies to change her own bandages later if necessary. He came back to the bed and sat beside her, taking both of her hands in his.

“I need you to know why I’m so upset on your behalf”. He spoke tenderly. It brought him no shortage of amusement that he could see his human’s eyes tracing a stray water droplet as it trailed down his neck, over his collarbone, down his chest and past his towel. Her eyes lingered on the pronounced V of his hips and he could swear he saw her lick her lips subconsciously, as though she wanted to lick his skin dry. As he began to speak, her eyes jumped up to meet his entrancing green eyes.

“You are so wonderful. You’re kind, smart, and thoughtful. I’m always laughing when I’m with you. I can’t imagine being in your life and taking you for granted. I don’t want you to think that you’re not absolutely everything. You’re our everything here. You’re my everything”. She felt her mouth gape, not having any clue where this was coming from. Did she crack her head open when she fell? Was this a coma dream? She was pretty sure those were a thing, but she wasn’t a doctor. Before she could spiral any further, she felt his hand come up and gently cup her jaw.

“M/C, will you let me worship you tonight?”

Before she could spend too much time thinking about the right way to respond to something so romantic, she heard an almost too enthusiastic “Fuck yes” leave her mouth. And before she could panic about that, she felt his lips on hers. Gently at first, to test the waters. He moved his lips against hers reverently, like she was a sacred place and he was a pilgrim at the end of a long journey. Her hands came to lay around his shoulders and Satan’s free hand laid on her thigh, gripping it lightly. The more time went on the more they began to melt into each other. At the first breathy moan that left M/C between kisses, it was like a switch went off in Satan. He redoubled his efforts, pressing against her with more insistency and his hand moving from its grip on her thigh to her waist, gripping even tighter through the layer of her towel. Their gasps filled the air alongside the sound of their lips meeting.

“So fucking hot” he moaned, tightening his grip to the point it almost hurt.

“Please, Satan. I need more” she begged. Not wasting any time, he twisted them around until her back hit the bed and he straddled her waist. Her kiss-bitten lips and lust-filled eyes sent chills up his spine. Every naughty fantasy he’d ever had of the two of them came to the forefront of his mind and he tried his best to sift through them all, trying to choose the best one to show her the depths of his passion. Before he could decide, he felt the towel at his waist begin to slip. He shifted his weight to his knees to catch it, but he felt a human-sized hand grab at his wrist.

“Please?” her voice was softer than it had been, showing some hesitancy, like she wasn’t sure how far she could push this.

“Anything for you, sweetheart. My heart and my body are yours”. M/C could practically feel her own face heat up at the term of endearment. It felt like she was in a romance novel the way he expressed his devotion so whole-heartedly. Her hand stayed on his wrist as the other came up to untuck the towel from his waist.

“Holy fuck Satan, how were you hiding this in your pants?”, she almost sounded indignant. The demon burst out laughing, glad he wouldn’t have to second guess if she liked the way he looked underneath his clothes. He threw the towel into the laundry hamper near the bed, eager to get it out of the way now that he’d been given the go-ahead. He wasn’t scarily long – it seemed proportional to his height, but he was much thicker than any of the humans she’d been with. She almost wanted to ask if this was normal for demons or if he was particularly well-endowed, but she didn’t want to risk him thinking she was asking because she wanted another demon, so she decided to save that question for her and Asmo’s next self-care night. Preferably after he’d had enough demonus that he was unlikely to remember.

Breaking free from her thoughts, she took him in her hand. Half exploring and half trying to stroke him to full hardness, she tried to get a feel for how he liked to be touched. The breathy moan she earned through a hard grip and slow strokes hinted she was at least going in the right direction.

Through his growing haze Satan asked, “Can I see you too?”

M/C nodded, using the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist to untuck her own towel and toss it carelessly to the floor, pulling him back to her to kiss him hard. Wanting to see her but making use of the patience honed through the millennia of his existence, he let her take control of the kiss and instead tried to focus on the feel of her tongue in his mouth and her hand on his cock. If he had ever been in the Celestial Realm as his own being, he would imagine that this was what it felt like. To be enveloped in the love of his human as they tried to learn each other’s bodies, the sound of the storm still audible against the window panes. He was often envious of his brothers, but not this time. They’d experience this particular heaven over his dead body. Satan felt his possessive streak flaring up and he knew he would do whatever it took to keep his human in his arms until the end of his days. He was brought out of his head once again once the human shifted their focus to teasing the head of his cock. Unable to hold back the moans, he pulled back from the kiss only to shift to leaving marks down his lover’s neck. Sharp nips and sucks drew breathy moans from her, and satisfied sighs when he gently soothed the sting with his tongue.

He spent extra time on her collarbones, obsessed with how easily the red marks bloomed for him just on the edge of where they’d be visible in her usual attire. In his head he could see them at breakfast the next morning. M/C would be wearing her usual weekend attire. Of course, she’d cover her neck with makeup or maybe a scarf, but maybe she’d assume her collarbones would be covered by her shirt? What if she were to move just-so and the hem of her neckline shifted, showing off the marks he so carefully left for her to appreciate? Of course Asmodeus would notice, he never missed an opportunity to stare at her tits. No way he wouldn’t make a big deal about it, drawing the attention of the others. He could practically taste how lovely it would feel to feed on his brothers’ wrath. It also had the added bonus of making sure the others knew she was his – always had been and always will be.

Content with his little daydream, he continued downward to his human’s chest. Her fingers grasped at his hair to ground herself as he teased her nipple to hardness with his tongue, stimulating the other with gentle circles using his thumb. Cupping them in his hands, he took the opportunity to lean back and appreciate M/C. His eyes scanned her nude body for the first time, appreciating every curve and dimple, committing every scar and freckle and mole to memory. From her flushed skin to her messed up hair, she looked absolutely wrecked. He moved his hand to tease the marks he left all over her neck and chest, tracing each one.

“Satan, please, don’t make me beg. I want you inside of me.” she was surprised how pathetic she sounded to herself and possibly more surprised at how Satan’s eyes dilated and his smile grew at the sound, like he was a fox that had spotted a hare.

“But you sound positively sinful when you beg, and you know how us demons love to bask in sin” he replied.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed one of his hands to drag it down her body to her core. Not willing to pass up an opportunity to be a little shit, kept moving downward until he landed at the underside of her knee.

“Seriously?”

“Shush, I’m a romantic, let me enjoy our first time together. I said I wanted to worship you, didn’t I?”

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute”. M/C huffed.

“Thank you for indulging me, your graciousness knows no bounds”. Before she could bite back another response, Satan parted her legs and descended on her inner thighs. Kissing and biting, he cut off her smartass reply and it was replaced by the loudest moan he’d gotten all night. The way he held her legs in place was as delicate as when he had been checking her over for wounds, providing a lovely contrast to way he attacked the soft flesh of her thighs.

“Sensitive?”

“I will end you if you don’t touch me where I want you right now, you ridiculous little furry”. This was the kind of shit that made him fall head over heels in love with her. She wasn’t afraid of him, she saw him as more than his sin. She saw all of them as more than their sins, but right now he was only concerned with the two of them. He didn’t think his smile could grow any wider without becoming distinctly inhuman, and while he was pretty sure she’d be into that, today wasn’t the day to drop that on her. Instead, he hooked her legs over his shoulders and dove between her legs with an enthusiasm he hadn’t felt for sex in centuries, if ever.

Her thighs locked around his head and her hands threaded through his silky blonde hair, throwing her head back and screaming his name. The sound was muffled by her legs covering his ears, but she was loud enough that he heard it loud and clear. It motivated him to show her just how agile his tongue was, to ruin her for human partners and other demons alike. He focused his mouth on her clit, rubbing her hips with his thumbs to soothe her as he overwhelmed the human’s senses. Satan’s tongue felt unbelievably long on her sex, somehow seeming to simultaneously cover her entirely and focus in on the spots that made her buck her hips involuntarily and grind down onto his face. She had never felt so overstimulated before and couldn’t help but continue to moan as he brought her closer and closer to climax. She was helpless to do anything but vocalize her pleasure as he ate her through her orgasm and beyond, her body tensing and twitching as he lapped up her release. When her noises of pleasure turned to noises of discomfort, Satan managed to make his way out from between her legs, stroking the outside of her thigh and using a gentle voice to guide her back into her body.

“Holy fuck. Where did you learn to do that?” she panted as she tried to catch her breath. She caught his eye, appreciating how his face was shiny with her slick. She felt her arousal returning against all odds as he grinned wickedly and licked it all off of his face with a tongue that looked different from usual - too long for his mouth, but lined up more with what she felt on her sex.

“I’m Satan, remember? What kind of great corrupter of mankind would I be if I couldn’t eat pussy?” He flopped down next to her as they laughed, basking in the afterglow.

“I’m still pretty sensitive, but I can touch you in the meantime if you’d like?”

“No, let’s just stay like this for a bit. I want to cum for the first time inside of you, if you’ll allow me”.

Her eyes grew large and she felt herself almost salivating. “Yep, yep, sounds great, good, let’s do that”.

Her demon laughed again, loving how awkward and enthusiastic she was even after it seemed like he’d given her an out-of-body experience.

“Oh, wait, can you let Lucifer know that we’re back? I don’t want you getting in trouble for ‘stealing’ me again”. As M/C curled up on her side and drew the covers up over her, Satan paused. His eye caught the lacy black bra hung on the doorknob of her closet.

“Of course, love”. He was the co-chair of the Anti-Lucifer League. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity. So, before he curled up into her side to be her big spoon, he decided to snap a picture of the bra hanging there. He opened up his DDD, holding it in one hand and stroking her arm gently with the other. It conveniently showed a notification that Lucifer had texted him about half an hour ago.

Lucifer: Have you and M/C returned? The weather is getting worse and it is almost time for dinner. Lucifer: M/C is not answering her DDD. Will you please update me on the situation once you see these texts? Lucifer: Satan. If this is a repeat of last time I will make you wish that I just strung you from the ceiling like Mammon.

Perfect.

Satan: Don’t worry big brother, M/C is inside and safe from the storm.

The eldest brother responded almost immediately.

Lucifer: It took you long enough to respond. I will be speaking to you about this after dinner. I hope you’ve made sure she’s eaten, it’s past dinner time and I can’t guarantee that Beelzebub has not gotten into the leftovers. Satan: Don’t worry, she’s having a great time.

*one image attached*

Lucifer: What. Is. That. Satan: Sorry, I’d assumed you’d seen a woman topless before. Silly me. That’s a bra, it’s a type of undergarment women wear to support their breasts. Lucifer: I know what a bra is. Why do you have a picture of what I can only assume is M/C’s bra taken from inside her room? Satan: Oh, I think you know, brother.

He nudged the human beside him, who was enjoying the skinship and starting to drift off to sleep.

“Hey, wanna mess with Lucifer?”

“Always”

“Can I take a picture of you in bed? You can cover as much of your skin as you want”.

She took a moment to think. “Sure, why not?”

He knew he loved her for a reason.

[neiptune]

Hi there! First off…yay fellow Swiftie! So my request is going to be Demon Slayer (sorry, but I don’t watch the other two animes,) in particular, for Gyomei Himejima. The lyric/prompt I would like to use is: “All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride.”

Thank you so much! Also, this seems like an amazing idea…I may just have to do this for all of her albums.

gyomei himejima x all they keep asking me is if i'm gonna be your bride

a/n: i'm so sorry for being this late, tysm for sending in your request! i've been very happy to write it for you <3 i hope you enjoy!

One thing about Gyomei and his presence is your life is the lightness of it.

He's everything, everywhere, all the time. Sunlight filtering through tree leaves, comforting steam rising up from a cup of tea, softness of freshly laundered linen, safety and warmness and kindness found in a world so harsh, cold, unfair.

Gyomei wants to give, incessantly: it sure took some time to convince him he's worthy of receiving as well. That's why you ask for very little and not so often. Still, he just can't help but give give give.

Sometimes it scares you. His I love yous can throb with hints of definitive farewells, you can discern the shakiness of his hands embedded in the letters he sends you whenever he's away. Ever the gentle lover, on occasion he'd turn desperate, kisses burning and grip almost bruising as if scared you will break apart and slip through his fingers like the golden sand you love so much if he doesn't hold you tight enough.

And, sometimes, you scare him as well. Gyomei knows you're crazy (in love) enough to face a demon should it mean keeping your little household safe, reckless (courageous) enough to quite literally fight Sanemi Shinazugawa when he's being particularly cocky, obsinate (smitten) enough to leave the room each time he'd try to initiate the maybe you'd be better off without me, you should be free to pursue a normal life discourse, not willing to listen but not willing to start a fight either. Because you couldn't even fathom such an impossible, unfair suggestion. His hinting at a normal life, as if you could ever have a life to live in the first place without him in it.

Gyomei is busy, often away, so you certainly do your best to keep your requests reasonable. A little just five more minutes grumbled at dawn, as soon as he gently tries to untangle the arms and legs you keep stubbornly wrapped around him; a soft let's take a walk even if you know he's tired and would much prefer to stay in, the fluttering touch of your fingertips across his cheeks, brows, bridge of a perfect nose as you let him know that it's your turn to make dinner. He'd huff a laugh and you'd smile in anticipation for the inevitable you claim to love me and yet you enjoy torturing the both of us because Gyomei can lift rocks and move mountains and mitigate Sanemi's temper but he can't, for the life of him, cook.

But today's different. Rain is falling heavily enough to be bending the leaves of the plants in your garden but the sound is so soothing you don't mind, not as you sit on the tatami floor of your bedroom, nestled between strong legs as equally strong but gentle hands pat your wet hair with a soft towel. Gyomei had met you a few yards away from your house, rushing right away to cover your trembling figure with the big red umbrella he'd grabbed before heading out.

Why'd you head out in the rain?

I didn't want to be late.

But you know I'll always come get you.

Well, we met halfway, didn't we?

You know he's not really annoyed, he never is. Just worried you'll catch a cold, as indicated by the warm bath he'd prepared right away as soon as you got home.

And now, as you sit with your back pressed to his chest, you're left wondering how to introduce a topic that's been sitting heavily on your tongue for the past months. It's something you have both thought about, joked about even, but never properly addressed.

“Are your siblings doing well? I wish to visit your family soon, we should go together next time”

“Of course. They talk about you all the time anyway” you don't have to turn around to know that he's smiling. Your parents have been showering him with respect and affection since day one and your siblings still can't quite believe someone as important as a hashira would materialize in their garden, sit at their table, be able to discern their amazed yet timid gazes and meet them with a smile each time, the youngest almost always sitting on his lap by the end of every lunch, dinner, breakfast, cup of tea.

“And that concerns you because?” of course he'd catch the way the tenderness in your tone conceals the tension. Or maybe it's the stiffness in your shoulders that gave it away.

You turn around to sit more comfortably and confront him, cross-legged and a bundle of nerves as your stomach flips at the mere thought of opening your mouth. God.

“My love?” he inquires, brows furrowed in confusion.

“There's something we discussed today. It's not the first time, actually”

Gyomei nodds, urging you to keep going. It takes a deep breath to allow the next words to slip past your lips.

“All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride”

Now his shoulders stiffen, a reaction you expected but that doesn't hurt any less.

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to pressure you” you're quick to add “their expectations shouldn't define us”

Gyomei stays silent for so long you curl your fingers in your lap, the veil of uneasiness settling on the room ever so silently as rain keeps drumming on the roof and wind howls outside the windows. He knows you want it just as much as your family and he can only hope you know just how much he wants it too. He'd marry you in a heartbeat if it wasn't for the weight of not being able to grant you a normal, safe, balanced life curving his shoulders each morning as he wakes and each night as he presses your body against his own.

“I don't blame them for having normal expectations” words come out attentively, voice so low it's barely a whisper. Your heart squeezes a little.

“It's just—” he takes a breath and palms close tightly around his knees “I can't ask you that. I can't promise enough to ask you that”

“You can't promise you'll love me?”

Gyomei is offended by such a question, you can see it in the in the displeased line of his mouth.

“In every world, in a hundred lifetimes, in any version of reality, I will love you. Do not mistake my hesitation for doubts about my feelings”

You reach for his hands, they feel hard and calloused in yours but they're also warm and familiar.

“I know how this goes. You're scared something will happen to you, you hate the thought of hurting me, but what about what I want? Is that less important, somehow?”

“I certainly wish you wouldn't make this so hard for me”

You crack a smile, thumb soothingly running across the back of his hand.

“And I wish you'd let me be your spouse. I wish you'd stop thinking you have to face the world on your own. That is, if you want me. A silly, useless woman who can't fight but at least doesn't risk burning the house down when crackin' an egg”

Gyomei scoffs as he reaches for your hips, dragging you all the way to his lap, and you indulge in a chuckle, legs and arms finding their way around him as his cheek presses to your shoulder. He's so big and yet manages to fold on himself whenever he hugs you like this.

“You talk so much nonsense” he playfully groans and you shrug with a smile that grows in size as his lips graze your exposed neck.

“I guess I'd be the luckiest man to ever live if you'd let me listen to it for the rest of my life”

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

🔆anon

Thought of this and couldn’t unthink of this. But hey it getting me back into writing for Ruse.

(I’ve been wanting to write for Ruse, but don’t want to write for the High Priest and their reaction to what is pretty much everything he does.)

— —

(The beginning of February, about half a month after book 6.)

Ruse, Cater, Kalim, and Lilia were all hanging out in the music room for club time. Ruse was finishing some homework while the other three talk. That was until Cater found a song while scrolling on his phone, one that might be good for Ruse.

Cater: Hey, Ruse!

Ruse: *not looking up from his work* Yes?

Cater: I found a song that I wanted to know if you would sing with us.

Kalim: Ooo! You found a song for that?! What is it?! I bet it would be super fun to finally be all together for a song!

Ruse: *looks up at Cater with an annoyed expression* You’d ask me to sing a song? Not to mention you said “us” before even asking the other two their opinions.

Kalim: I’d be happy to play any song together!

Lilia: *gives a small chuckle* As would I. It would be nice to finally have our quartet actually work as four and not as a trio.

Ruse: Not my point. But even if you still agree, you have to be aware who you’re asking. Why would I sing so freely? I said before I’m only here because I have to be in a club per school rules.

Cater: C’mon, Ruse. I ask because you’re a great singer-

Ruse: Of course I am.

Cater: Because you’re a great singer and singing with use would allow you some spotlight because it ends on a solo. I just thought our group would be amazing with you in it because of how amazing you are.

Ruse: I am amazing, but the hymns is sing are sung for a reason, for reverence. What even is your song about?

Cater: Oh! Hold on, I can text you the lyrics.

Ruse: *glares at Cater*

Cater: *instantly remembers and gets up* Right. I’ll show you. *scrolls through the lyrics while Ruse watches*

Ruse: Diamond, this is a song about disobedience. That is literally the title of the song.

Kalim: Oh! That song? That one’s great!

Ruse: Why would your world even have a single like that? Obedience to those higher is what keeps society running. A single person out of line can harm so many others because they don’t have the knowledge the higher ups are able to carry the burden of.

Cater: Uh… *thinking* It’s because it belongs to a villain.

Kalim: No it-

Lilia: *cover’s Kalim’s mouth while whispering to him* We can’t tell him exactly where it’s from yet. If he believes this it might help him. I can explain later, but you can’t tell him, okay?

Kalim: *nods*

Ruse: Why would I sing a villain’s song. Especially all about disobedience.

Cater: Well, a villain needs a song and that song needs to be sung. If there’s never any villain to show the wrong thing, there can never a hero to show the right thing. So you could use it to know the way the mislead are thinking.

Ruse: But do I have to sing it?

Cater: That gets the emotion they’re feeling across the best. Plus this might be your best moment because you don’t know when the next one will be.

Ruse: … Fine.

—

The Pop Music Club are finally their first full run through of the song after about two weeks straight of practicing it. Cater is on guitar, Lilia is on bass, Kalim is on drums, and Ruse is singing.

Ruse: Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you for gracing me with your presence.

Good afternoon, sir. What can I do, sir? Just say the word, sir. Anything for you sir.

Your friends all say, sir. You don’t deserve her. I disagree, sir. I live to serve, sir.

Ruse, Cater, Kalim, and Lilia: I think about all the wasted time I spent. I wanna be disobedient!

I shoot wake wondering where my summers went. I wanna be disobedient!

Disobedient!

Disobedient!

Ruse: I’ve been good, sir. So very, very good, for what? And I’ve given you every single thing I’ve got!

It’s feeling strange, man. This whole arrangement. Is gonna end with me

Ruse, Cater, Kalim, and Lilia: With me totally deranged!

When I think about all the wasted time I spent. I wanna be disobedient!

I shoot awake wondering where my summers went. I wanna be disobedient!

Disobedient!

Disobedient!

Cater, Kalim, and Lilia: *instruments only for about 30 seconds*

Ruse: I. Want to be. Disobedient.

*a feeling starts to creep in* I. Want to be. Disobedient.

Disobedient.

*the feeling gets bigger* Disobedient.

Disobedient.

Ruse, Cater, Kalim, and Lilia: *strike the final cord as Ruse’s feeling reaches its maximum*

—

Kalim: Woo! That was a great run! Sounded like we were pros!

Cater: Yeah! 100% #beastbandever! *turns to Ruse* By the way, Ruse. You good? Your voice started wobbling at the end.

Ruse: *snaps back to his aloof and prideful expression* Of course I’m alright. I always am. *starts collecting his things* I just need to take what I’ve learned of the emotions, as you said was the point of this exercise. Goodbye. *leaves*

Kalim: But we still have club time left… Is he sure he’s okay? He didn’t sound good. Maybe we should check on him.

Lilia: While that’s a nice sentiment, I think he needs some alone time. We can go back to practicing other songs in the meantime, since everything is already out.

—

Roth: He fell for that excuse?! And finished the whole song!

Marr: We did raise him to be trusting.

Roth: To us! He is supposed to be a skeptic about everyone else’s words, especially nonbelievers! Does he know how much time went into making sure he didn’t believe them while keeping our word as fact?!

Domar: He’s been getting progressively more and more corrupted the longer he spends there. The “wobble in his voice” and those “emotions” were a seed of doubt. Marr, you claimed you could find a way to get him back.

Marr: And I’m working on it. I’ve made progress, but I can’t make miracles happen.

Roth: Tell that to the people who ask us to practically change their lives hoping we can give it to our deity.

Domar: Now’s not the time for your whining, Roth. And Marr, we need him back now. The long we leave him, the more strings will snap.

Marr: Don’t be ridiculous. We have temple guards with the power to drag him back kicking and screaming if he doesn’t come willingly. And plus, with how young we got to him and how he’s still holding onto everything, it’s doubtful he’ll ever be able to let go of everything, it’s practically a part of him. We just need to get to that part of him and it will give us back our puppet. Amy fight can easily be quashed the same way any dissenters are.

— —

That got long. Oops.

And the song is Disobedient from Steven Universe the Movie: https://youtu.be/Mpi0wyVRP0I?si=h6UGYOKYlY8JXOvf

By the way, yes, Ruse is incredibly naive. He can be skeptical and stubborn, but if you hit a weak spot, he can believe about anything.

I love SU~

And Ruse singing "Disobedient" works so well~

[lilyvandersteen]

Critically Yours

This story was written as part of the Klaine Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2022, and is gifted to @honeysucklepink. Merry Christmas, sweetie, and I hope this hits the spot for you!

The prompt can be found in the end notes.

Many thanks to my beta @hkvoyage, who was lightning-quick to review this for me so that it would still be in time for Christmas.

Critically Yours by @lilyvandersteen​

Kurt let out a big yawn as he walked into the kitchen. The party after the premiere had been fun, but he’d had too short a night’s sleep because of it.

He was on his second mug of coffee when Rachel called him.

“Kurt, you were amazing yesterday, as I knew you would be!”

Kurt grinned and thanked her.

“And I know you always tell me not to read the reviews, but… There’s this one you really need to read. You’ll love it. I’m sending you the link.”

“Rach, I don’t think…”

“Read it. This guy is so sweet, aww. Well, at least I think it’s a guy. He’s using a nickname. But the way he writes feels like a guy. Am I making sense? Maybe I’m still a bit drunk. One thing’s for sure, though, you have to read it. You just have to. I wish he’d say things like that about me. Anyway, got to go. Yoga tonight?”

“It’s a date!” Kurt promised her, and when she’d hung up, he clicked on the link.

It wasn’t a fan site that popped up. It was the New York Times website. The comments section, to be precise.

The commenter’s name was IconicWarbler, and unlike the other one-sentence commenters, he’d gone for the novel-like approach.

“I went to see Cabaret last night, and found myself totally enamoured of the MC, played by newcomer Kurt Hummel. I’ve never seen this actor on stage before, but I can assure you I will attend every play he’s in from now on. That’s how much he enchanted me. Such clear, strong vocals. Such a master at conveying emotions. And what a compelling personality! He draws you in, even pulling focus when he’s in the background. I could not keep my eyes off him. I urge you all to go see Cabaret and discover this promising fresh face.

Mr. Hummel, I’m calling it now: you will get a Tony nomination for this role. You are just THAT good.

Critically yours,

IconicWarbler”

Kurt covered his hand with his mouth and let out a happy squeak, smiling ear to ear.

Rachel was right, that was exactly the pick-up he’d needed this morning.

Thank you, IconicWarbler!

 K&B

Blaine fist-pumped happily when he read the announcement that Kurt Hummel would have the title role in the Jesus Christ Superstar revival.

The actor had gotten a Tony nomination for his role in Cabaret, as Blaine had predicted, and though he hadn’t won the award, it had opened new doors for him.

By now, Kurt Hummel had played in Dear Evan Hansen, causing Blaine to rave over how high his vocal range was, and opposite Rachel Berry in West Side Story, after which performance Blaine had waxed lyrical over how convincing they had been as star-crossed lovers, defending Kurt in replies to other commenters who seemed to think he was too gay to pull off the role of Tony.

Blaine had gone to see both shows as many times as his budget would allow, and had waited at the stage door to get his playbill signed every single time, even when it was pouring rain or freezing.

Kurt was always courteous and kind to every fan, taking his time to greet and thank them.

Every encounter with Kurt had Blaine walking on sunshine for days, especially when Blaine’s praise coaxed a rare smile out of the handsome man.

But after West Side Story, Kurt had disappeared from Broadway, not even starring in smaller roles. He was just… gone.

It had made Blaine worry and wonder what had happened.

But now, a year later, Kurt was back, and Blaine was relieved and excited to see his favourite actor in a new role.

The anticipation that had been building inside of him rose to a fever point when the radio station he listened to every morning announced a contest.

“Good morning everyone! I have some exciting news to share with you! You’ve probably already heard it: Jesus Christ Superstar is coming back to Broadway. And with it crowd favourite Kurt Hummel, who’s going to play the title role, and who is with us right now to have a little chat.”

“Hello, everyone!”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how excited are you to see Kurt take on this role? Let us know through our app!”

Blaine grinned and opened the app, sending a quick message.

“Oh, lots of enthusiasm so early in the morning. Let’s see: Ruth says she’s missed you the past year and that she’s stoked you’re back, Blaine says you’re sure to be stellar in your new role, and David says he can’t wait to see you in the play, Kurt!”

“I hope I’ll do you guys proud,” Kurt said.

The ensuing interview cleared up why Kurt had been away for so long. Apparently, his father had fallen ill, and he’d moved back home to be with his family.

“But now he’s better, and he told me to stop fussing over him and get back to work. So here I am!”

Blaine chuckled and crossed his fingers that the radio presenters would coax Kurt into singing a fragment from his new show.

What he got was even better.

“When our family celebrated Thanksgiving a few weeks ago, it got me thinking about what I was most thankful for. Dad getting better, obviously, that’s a big one. He’s my rock, and I’m so grateful I get to keep him, hopefully for decades more. But apart from that, I’m so thankful for all my fans. You are the ones who brought me here. Who believed in me when I had doubts I could do this. Who have stood by me from the very beginning. Who have defended me when people tried to tear me down. And I don’t have enough words to tell you how much that has meant to me. So I’m going to show you instead.”

At this point, the radio presenter took over.

“Prick up your ears now, all you Broadway lovers out there! This is a contest you won’t want to miss! Kurt is offering not just tickets to Jesus Christ Superstar, but an extra special main prize. The overall winner will get a ticket to the premiere, a meet-and-greet with Kurt and the rest of the cast, and will get to attend the party with the cast and crew afterwards. Isn’t that something?”

Blaine’s heart started pumping double speed.

Oh wow.

“Yes, you heard that right! Ever dream of getting the chance to chat with your fave actor over a glass or two? Well, for one lucky guy or girl, this dream will come true! And what do you have to do to win this, you ask?”

“Tell me, tell me,” Blaine muttered.

“Well, from now until the day of the premiere, we’ll be having a little quiz every morning, about Broadway topics. If you want to take part in it, sign up for the quiz in our app, and each morning, we’ll pick two listeners to compete against each other. The goal is to be the first to answer five questions correctly. The winner will go through to the next round, and then on the last day before the premiere, we’ll find out who wins the main prize.”

Blaine opened the app again and looked for the sign-up form.

There wasn’t much chance he’d be chosen, but it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

One day after another passed, and it seemed luck was not on his side. He listened to the morning show even more attentively than he otherwise did, and he made sure he always had his phone on hand, but the show host always picked other listeners to play the quiz.

Sometimes, they were so abysmal at answering the questions that Blaine rolled his eyes. Did they really know so little about Broadway shows, or was it nerves blocking their brain?

Two days before the premiere, just as he’d all but given up hope, his phone rang as he was eating a bowl of cereal, and his heart slammed into his throat.

Was it really…?

And yes, it was. He’d been selected to play the quiz!

Hearing the presenter’s voice both over the radio and on the phone was distracting, so he switched off the radio so as to be able to focus better.

“And today, we’ll be playing the Broadway quiz with Blaine and Tiffany!”

Wow, my hands are clammy. And why is my throat so dry all of a sudden?

The first question was about West Side Story. The presenter wanted them to name the two street gangs.

“The Jets and the Sharks,” Blaine yelled.

The other contestant groaned.

“Second question: you’re going to hear a snippet from a Broadway song. Tell me what show it is from!”

The song was “All That Jazz”. As soon as Blaine recognised it, he yelled, “Chicago!”

He heard a muffled curse, and knew he’d beaten his opponent again.

“Number 3: where does “Hairspray” take place?”

Blaine chuckled and sang a few lines of “Good morning Baltimore”.

“Wow, nice! You’re a fine singer yourself!” the presenter praised him.

“Thank you. I was in show choir for years. The Dalton Warblers.”

“Wonderful. And you’re firmly in the lead, with three right answers to nil. Tiffany, what’s happening?”

“He’s just too fast,” Tiffany whined, and both Blaine and the presenter chuckled.

“Okay, next question: complete this Hamilton lyric: I’m just like my country, I’m young…”

“Scrappy and hungry, and I’m not throwing away my shot!” Blaine rattled off glibly.

The presenter whistled low. “You didn’t even have to think about it, did you? How many times have you seen Hamilton?”

“Uhm, I’ve never really counted the times,” Blaine confessed, and the presenter laughed.

“Okay, if you keep this up, Blaine, you’ll only have to answer one more question. Here it is: name all seven children of the von Trapp family.”

“Liesl, Friedrich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta and Gretl,” said Blaine, counting them on his fingers to make sure he left no-one out.

“Yes, you did it!” the presenter enthused, and he played the jingle that pronounced Blaine the winner.

Blaine sat back and mechanically put a spoonful of cereal with milk in his mouth.

Wow, I’m through to the next round. Now what?

Now, as it transpired, all the winners would be competing against each other the following morning, and the first two to get five questions right would then play a sudden death round.

Blaine spent the rest of the day frantically reading up on all things Broadway, and also did his research on Kurt Hummel. In the process, he may have gotten a bit side-tracked when he found YouTube recordings of Kurt performing as a cheerleader, a clip of him singing “Le Jazz Hot” and then his audition for NYADA, “Not the Boy Next Door”. Those gold pants. And his moves. Unf.

When the next morning rolled around, Blaine may have been just a little sleep-deprived from watching certain Kurt Hummel videos on repeat. But he regretted nothing.

Despite his sleepiness, Blaine had no trouble answering questions, and became the first finalist. He ended up playing the sudden death round against a guy called Chandler, who was just as knowledgeable as Blaine was.

After they’d each answered another ten questions correctly, the presenter sighed. “Okay, this is not going to work. You guys know EVERYTHING! So what do you say to a practical challenge as a tie-breaker?”

“Okay,” said Blaine.

“I guess,” said Chandler.

“You each get to sing a song from Jesus Christ Superstar, and then the other listeners will vote in the app and decide who becomes the overall winner!”

Blaine grinned. “That sounds good.”

Chandler said nothing.

“So who wants to go first?” the presenter asked.

“Let’s get it over with,” Chandler groused.

“Okay, Chandler, what are you going to sing?”

“I don’t know how to love him.”

“Great choice! Let me put the music on for you.”

Chandler started to sing, and Blaine winced and wanted to clap his hands over his ears.

He didn’t, because it would be his turn in a short while, but aah, Chandler’s singing was worse than nails on a chalkboard!

He let out a sigh of relief when the song came to an end, and announced to the presenter that he’d be singing “Heaven on their minds”.

He threw his everything into the performance and found himself panting rather heavily when he was done.

Applause startled him. The presenter whooped and hollered and then said, “Wow, that was quite something. Are you sure you’re not a Broadway actor in disguise?”

Blaine laughed. “I wish!”

“And it looks like the listeners agree with me. Look at that, what an overwhelming victory for BLAINE!”

“Yay!” Blaine yelled. He’d given it his all, and he’d actually won!

K&B

Though he was an old hand at giving interviews by now, Kurt found himself fidgeting with his shirt cuffs this time.

It wasn’t the interview itself he was nervous about, but the contest he’d be announcing.

As he talked about celebrating Thanksgiving with his family, and being so grateful for his fans that he wanted to thank them, he felt a bit deceitful. Yes, he truly was thankful for his fans and their support, but his real goal with this contest was something else altogether.

The idea had come to him one night when he’d had a sleepover with Rachel, Quinn, Brittany and Santana, and Santana had wanted to know if Kurt had ever slept with a fan of his.

“I’m sure there’s tons of them that slip you their phone number and that are itching to discover what’s under those tight pants of yours.”

“Nah,” Kurt had said. “Well, I’ve gotten some phone numbers, yes, but I didn’t fancy the guys in question. Too pushy. The worst one’s called Chandler. He comes to my show every night, and he always waits at the stage door, and he’s forever running his hands over me and gushing and professing himself in love with me. Ugh.”

“Well, aren’t there more respectful fans that you’d like to get to know better?”

Kurt had taken another sip of his drink and thought it over.

The first fan that had sprung to mind was IconicWarbler, with his wonderful reviews. Wouldn’t it be great to get to thank him in person for what his words had meant to Kurt? But the chances of ever finding this anonymous reviewer were slim to nil.

Then, Kurt had thought of a fan that hadn’t been such a fixture at the stage door as Chandler, but who had shown up regularly nonetheless. This guy was always dressed dapperly, with gelled hair and a profile that were reminiscent of a 1950s movie star, and with impeccable manners. He clearly loved getting to talk to Kurt, but he never got handsy and never tried to monopolise him.

Yes, that was someone he’d like to get to know better. But how would he manage that?

That’s how he’d come up with the contest plan. It was a wild shot in the dark, and chances were he’d end up meeting and greeting another person entirely, but he wanted to try this.

So he tuned in to that radio station every morning to find out who’d win the quiz that day. He grimaced when he saw the name Chandler pop up, and hoped that would not be the winner of the meet-and-greet package.

The second to last day of the contest, he got a pleasant surprise. One of the contestants, a guy called Blaine, had a voice he recognised – velvety smooth and soothing. Was it… could it be the Mr. Dapper he’d seen so often at the stage door?

Then Blaine started to sing, as an answer to a quiz question, and Kurt was blown away. Wow!

And what did he just say? He’d been in a show choir called the Dalton Warblers?

It might be just a coincidence, of course, but maybe Kurt had found his IconicWarbler…

The next day was the finals, and Kurt cursed loudly and at length when Chandler made it through and was still in the running for the top prize.

Please no!

Thankfully, Blaine made it through as well.

On an impulse, Kurt sent the radio show host a text that said, “Make them sing.”

At first, the two finalists got questions again, but when neither Chandler nor Blaine cracked under the pressure and they just kept giving right answers, the show host decided to make the both of them sing instead.

Yes!

Chandler was as bad a singer as Kurt had hoped, and Blaine was even better than in Kurt’s wildest dreams. He sang better than the actual actor playing in the show with Kurt!

Kurt grinned ear to ear when Blaine was pronounced the winner, and hoped so much that it was the fan he remembered.

The day of the premiere, he felt more than just the usual pre-show jitters. He also felt butterflies in his stomach, as if he was about to go on a first date.

Before the show started, he peeked through the curtain to check the place, front and centre in the Orchestra section, he’d reserved for the main winner of the contest.

He saw a neatly gelled head and fist-pumped. Yes! He’d guessed right! Blaine was Mr. Dapper all right!

Blaine certainly lived up to Kurt’s nickname, as he was dressed to the nines in a tuxedo.

The tuxedo jacket was made of burgundy velvet with black lapels, and Kurt was itching to find out if it was as soft as it looked.

He checked out the other reserved places, and saw Chandler, looking like thunder and throwing poisonous looks in Blaine’s direction. His plus-one seat was the only one left unoccupied.

Kurt drew back from the curtain, and went to have a chat with the security guard, warning him about Chandler, just in case the guy tried to get backstage or to make trouble for Blaine.

And then it was showtime, and Kurt threw himself into the performance with double the energy he’d shown during the dress rehearsal.

Afterwards, while bowing to the audience with the rest of the cast, his eyes strayed to Blaine again, who was clapping and cheering.

See you soon!

Back in his dressing room, he got out of his costume, freshened up and put his regular clothes on in record time, because he wanted to be the first of the actors to welcome Blaine backstage.

When he left his dressing room, he found Blaine attentively listening to John, one of the stage hands, who was explaining how all the equipment worked.

“Hello Blaine!” Kurt said, and Blaine’s attention shifted to him at once.

John chuckled. “I guess that’s my cue to disappear. Once the big star comes out, nobody’s interested in the technical stuff anymore.”

Blaine looked stricken, and started to babble apologies.

John clapped him on the shoulder. “Nah, don’t worry about it. You came here for Kurt and the others, I get it. See you both at the party!”

John left, and Blaine looked after him, biting his lip.

“Don’t worry,” Kurt said. “John’s not offended at all.”

Blaine’s eyes flitted to Kurt, and he flushed and nodded.

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” Kurt asked. “At the stage door?”

“Yes.” It sounded timid and uncertain.

“But this is your first time backstage?”

“Yes.”

Kurt winked at Blaine. “A lot less glamourous than you’d think, right?”

Blaine grinned. “Yep. Smaller, too. But I’m still stoked to get to see it. And it’s so interesting, how it all works…”

“I know, right? I remember when I started working on Broadway that I was fascinated with the technical side of things.”

They stood there, smiling at each other for a moment, and then Kurt said, “Oh, right, I should give you a tour, until my colleagues get here, too. Come with me.”

He let Blaine peek into his dressing room and then took him to see the costumes and the orchestra pit, introducing him to everyone they passed on the way.

By the time Blaine had seen every nook and cranny of the backstage area, the other actors were there to greet him and talk to him.

Blaine was a lot less shy around them than he was around Kurt, and when they all left the theatre to go to the party venue, it felt already as if Blaine was part of the group.

At the party, Kurt introduced Blaine to Rachel as well, and smothered a giggle behind his hand when Blaine treated her as if she were royalty (“It’s such an honour to meet the great Rachel Berry – you are a legend!”) and Rachel lapped it all up.

Rachel and Blaine got on like a house on fire, and Kurt left them to it to go procure some drinks.

When he came back from the bar, Rachel had drifted away to go talk to her off-and-on lover Jesse, and Blaine was talking to one of the musicians about his violin, which was apparently an antique.

“You play the violin?” he asked.

“Well, I haven’t in a while, as I told Ashley, because I need to get round to restringing my violin first, but yes, I do. The piano as well, and drums and guitar.”

“Wow. And you sing so well, too! You should have heard him, Ashley, he sang “Heaven on their Minds” on the radio, and he sounded better than Jesse!”

“Don’t let Jesse hear you say that,” Ashley laughed. “He wouldn’t take it well!”

Kurt handed Blaine a glass of champagne, and offered Ashley the one he’d brought for Rachel. “Cheers!”

A few hours later, he and Blaine were still nursing the same drink and talking their heads off about anything and everything when Rachel turned up again, phone in hand.

“I was just looking on the New York Times website, and it’s weird. Usually around this time, there’s a review already. But this time, not a word from IconicWarbler.”

Blaine’s head shot up, but Rachel didn’t notice, she was too busy scrolling.

“Do you think he didn’t come?” Rachel asked Kurt.

“Oh, he came all right,” Blaine said softly. “He’s just been too… busy to write a review just yet.”

Kurt, who’d had a hunch that Blaine might be IconicWarbler, beamed in satisfaction, and Rachel gasped, “It’s you?”

“It’s me.”

“I love your reviews,” Kurt told Blaine. “They’re always so kind and so supportive. I reread them when I’m having a bad day to get the strength to carry on, and on good days they make me want to strive to become even better. It means the world to me to have you in my corner.”

Blaine took his hand and squeezed it softly. “Always.”

After that, Kurt didn’t stay at the party much longer, and when he left, he took Blaine home with him.

As he explained to Blaine, “I don’t do this, usually. Or ever. But with you, it feels different.”

Blaine nodded. “I know. I feel the same. May I kiss you?”

Kurt threw his arms around Blaine’s neck and pulled him closer until their lips met.

A long moment later, Blaine’s eyes fluttered open and found his, and he whispered, “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever.”

THE END

This is the prompt the story is based on:

Blaine always reviews Kurt's performances in the NYT comments section but uses a nom-de-plume. (Blaine is not a critic--Blaine is in love!) Kurt doesn't know who, but he is also kind of falling for the person giving him such glowing reviews.

[slytherinshua]

Hopefully they will get a bit of rest before the show! They definitely need it after the tour though, the schedule seemed brutal. I don't think I'd be able to cope if it was me lol. You'll have to let me know what they are like to watch live, I'm sure they'll be amazing!!

Play is such a comfort song! I have definitely cried listening to it as well haha, also haze. I really do love how they have a song for every mood lol.

I'm honestly so glad that I started to listen to them when I did. I found them at a time when I'm finally starting to think more positively about myself and seeing my own potential, like seeing that I can improve myself but also being kind to myself when I inevitably mess up. I think the messages in their songs are really comforting and make me feel seen. (Although I still remember the night when hug by seventeen absolutely broke me ahaha) Finding a talented violinist who plays music that I like has helped me want to become better in that sense too, although admittedly I have wanted to improve for a while, but Yechan has actually given me a goal which is nice. (I've started to try and learn boogie man and my respect for Yechan has went WAY up).

I have wanted to watch super and for ages!! I never knew where to find it though. I found out about it because I'd started to listen to Hoppipolla and then would watch compilation videos of clips from superband. It seems so fun! And the amount of talent would make me cry ahaha. I'll and Ha Hyunsang's voices in 1000x almost made me cry the first time I listened to it because they blended so beautifully. After getting into Lucy, I was kinda like, the bassist in the awesome cover of the Coldplay song (I can't remember what it's called lol) was Wonsang?! Yechan played viva la Vida?? With Ha Hyunsang?? That made me want to watch it more ahaha (although I don't know if I'll be emotionally prepared to see Sangyeop cry)

I'll let you know if I have any ideas haha, but definitely keep writing for Lucy! I really liked your style of writing and thought you wrote Sangyeop really well!

Enjoy the show!!!!

okay now that I’m back from the show lemme answer this 🥹🥹 I think they did get some rest beforehand they were rly energetic and excited :( moreso than me cause I was so sore it hurt to stand and I was struggling when sangyeop wanted us to jump sigh

You could rly just tell they went all out for their last show of the tour and it was just so special :( I was right by wonsang bcuz he’s my bias and I wanted to watch him up close so most of the videos I took are of him. Whenever I could see sangyeop or get noticed by sangyeop I would die internally idk smth abt him live is just way too attractive and charismatic and he needs to stop being so fucking fine istg??? But wonsang was so cute I was chilling standing by him <33

I swear I can cry to any lucy song cause even the happy ones have sad or relatable lyrics… the sad ones hit so fucking hard absolutely when I need to cry colourless is my go to…. Sangyeop ugh 👹👹👹👹 and when it’s a song like boogie man I just cry cause of how beautifully crafted it is cause I think abt how hard wonsang works on every song LMAO IM SO EMO KILL ME

I also feel like I found them at just the right time but like for the opposite reason. I was going through intense burnout and listening to stove while I worked on schoolwork was the only thing keeping me going :( (along w bambam ty husband <3)

I NEED TO REWATCH SUPERBAND IN FULL TBH CAUSE 😭😭 I went back to watch the lucy stages but I just need to experience the WHOLE thing again… anyway here’s the link to the google doc with the google drive eps for you <3333 AND YES ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME COVER!!!! Absolutely adored it sm I remember how everyone thought wonsang was selfish and trying to make himself stand out by only picking guitarists while he was the only bassist but then he got all 5 votes cause his arrangement was so beautiful and chilling and ethereal and I love him sm I always call him my lil genius :(

Dropping some photos from the concert hehe

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Take Me Home to Your Arms”

(For this week’s Self Promo Sunday, here’s a little piece I wrote back during the hiatus between 5a and 5b. Certainly, like many of us at the time, I was wondering what might be happening to Killian in the Underworld and how Emma and the rest were going to get him back. This little Underworld spec fic was one of my attempts to answer those questions. It’s obviously canon-divergent now, and I apologize in advance for the Killian trauma. It's not that I want to hurt him, but this was the image of the Underworld and its suffering which first took root in my head, even if it didn’t go that way, and I truly wanted to see Emma come to his rescue, just as he has decided to go after her and fight for her so many times, whatever the risk to himself and his own safety.)

(The title and opening lyrics are from the song "Take Me Home" by US.)

**Can also be found on AO3 and ff.net

By: @snowbellewells

"I'm only happy when I'm with you, home for me is where you are…

I won't be happy 'til I'm with you, home for me is where you are,

These four walls mean nothing without you, home for me is where you are,

They tell me that I'll make it, it'll only be a while, but a while lasts forever without you;

Send out the alarms, I'm all alone,

Wrap me in your arms and take me home…"

Her footsteps fell quickly on the pavement, frantic in the dark. Emma Swan couldn't sleep, couldn't rest, couldn't stop. She could not wait any longer, and she wasn't sure why she had hesitated as long as she did, how she hadn't realized she could get to her pirate and find him sooner; the desperation now so intense it nearly possessed her.

Surprisingly, Regina of all people was the one only two steps behind her, anxious to find "Captain Guyliner". For all of the ways the queen and the pirate argued, needled, and harassed each other to the point of distraction, clearly – despite her derision of Hook and talk of his faults – the regal had missed her favorite "nemesis" and sparring partner more than she would ever admit aloud. That Regina took Emma's part when the others questioned the possibility of her plan, that Regina spoke up of her own accord and agreed it could work, meant the world to Emma. It had set them all in motion and brought them to the edge of the lake. It was only a matter of time before she made her way to Killian's side again.

Though Gold had gotten them to the Underworld easily enough, he had also predictably vanished on some venture of his own almost immediately after their arrival. Snow and Charming had gone to search by the water and in the forest, and Robin had seemed the most capable and likely person to send with them. Emma wanted to think they would all be fine, that splitting up would only allow them to cover that much more ground and find Killian sooner, but she couldn't help worrying for them as well as her sailor, when she couldn't see or know what they might run into. Forcing herself to re-focus,her mind whispered, 'Killian, where are you? Come back to me…'

Without her even being aware until they blurred her vision of the streets, silent tears were coursing down her face. The streets before them were so similar to the Storybrooke routes grown familiar, only darker and shrouded in eerie smoke. She would not allow it to slow her, and she pressed on blindly, unsure where to look as her eyes swept from side to side, certain that Killian must be close by. Once she saw him, Emma ached to fall on her knees at his side and beg his forgiveness, express her endless remorse for all the ways she had gotten it wrong in trying to save him, and he had paid the price. In horrific detail, she kept seeing the light fade from his blue, blue eyes, hearing his ragged plea to grant his wishes this time, his anguished cry and the wet, sucking sound as the blade slid home in his body. Her torment repeated, picturing what he might be going through in the domain of Hades. Was he still in pain? Was he being punished, taunted, tortured beyond the injuries she herself had inflicted? Even once she reached him, would she ever be able to make things right?

Emma might well have kept running aimlessly forever – not willing to give up or rest – but the fog thickened further, obscuring the twisted versions of Gold's pawn shop, Marco's woodworking studio, Maurice French's delivery van at the curb, and Granny's diner, to the point that she could barely make out any of the landmarks or see to take a step in front of her. Hesitating, breath coming out in frantic pants and eyes darting wildly, she nearly panicked, staring in one direction and then another helplessly.

It was then, when despair began to creep in and take her over, that a warm, comforting hand slipped into hers, squeezing firmly. "Mom!" Henry's ever-deepening voice called her back, cutting through her whirling thoughts and clearing her mind. "Calm down. You have to use your magic. It's powered by love. Focus on Killian, on how much you need to find him, and we'll get there…I know it."

Blinking away the tears which had barely let up their entire time in this twisted mockery of their hometown, Emma managed to give her brave, amazing son a tremulous smile. Nodding in affirmation, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tried to focus on Henry's encouragement. She finally believed that Killian was her True Love. She planned to attempt splitting her heart to share with him; her magic should lead them to her pirate. She needed to calm down and allow it to work. It only took her other True Love buoying her up to remind her. This had to work…and it would!

Henry didn't let go of her hand, but stood right next to her offering his strength and belief, ready to venture forward at her side. Emma closed her eyes, raised her other hand slightly, and sent out tendrils of her magic, seeking, searching for Killian.

"You can do it, Mom," Henry urged, rooting her on. "I want him back too. He can't be far!"

Maybe it was Henry's faith, or maybe Regina had found a way to get her magic, which had been shorting out since they'd entered the realm of the dead, working again; whatever it was, the way ahead grew more visible as they pushed forward quietly. An even more complete and odder hush than they had been keeping fell over their small trio as through the smoke and fog the clock tower and library abruptly appeared before them. A chill of foreboding ran up Emma's spine, and she clutched Henry's hand in hers more tightly. She couldn't explain how she knew it, but this was where they needed to be. Kilian was nearby. Her own magic felt as though it were reaching out and trying to find him, as she'd hoped, or that the connection she knew was between them was asserting itself at last. It didn't matter that this sinister version of the clock tower looked like the last place she wanted to enter, if Killian Jones was in there, then that was exactly where she would go.

Nodding toward the building which towered over them, Emma only said with a grim determination, "He's in there."

Henry looked over at her, no longer having to tilt his chin up, almost as tall as his mom, and merely met her eyes with a nod before replying, "Then let's go get him," his face as set and determined as hers.

Regina's expression was grim as well, and she flexed her hand, making sure there was a fireball ready if they needed it. "In a way, it makes a twisted sort of sense," she conceded, moving to follow them without hesitation. "Maleficent's dungeon is beneath the library, ready for Hades to use."

Pushing open the door, the three cautiously stepped through the darkened entryway of the building. Where Belle was usually standing at the circulation desk to greet those who entered her library in Storybrooke with a bright, excited smile and ink-smudged fingers, here nothing greeted them but unnatural, hovering stillness, the musty, dry smell of books left unread and long forgotten, and the dank gray interior that urged them to turn back before they were lost within its depths. If Emma hadn't been certain this was the place before, she was sure now – this was where they would find Killian. The very structure itself seemed to be trying to unnerve them, as if afraid they would succeed.

"Here, Miss Swan," Regina spoke up crisply, still focused and business-like, breaking into Emma's cluttered thoughts.

Glancing up, Emma found the other woman standing at an exact replica of the elevator down to the basement which had once held the dragon-wraith of her former friend. Obviously the mayor didn't wish to waste any more time here than was strictly necessary – whether she would admit to being unsettled or not – and Emma couldn't agree more. She crossed the room with Henry to stand at his other mother's side. They looked into the elevator for a moment, then swallowed hard and pressed on.

The old lift creaked and groaned as it brought them down into the depths below the false clock tower, and it only grew darker and danker the further they went. By the time they reached the bottom, Emma couldn't see her hand in front of her face it was so deeply black and the fog so thick. If she felt it would be any safer, she would have urged Henry to stay – but she doubted it would be, and she knew he wouldn't wait behind anyway.

"Stay close, Miss Swan," Regina warned again tartly as they stepped forward on the rocky, uneven ground. Her voice was cautious even through its crisp impatience, and Emma had learned by now to read the other woman better rather than assuming that Regina didn't care or was coldly unaffected; the former queen was worried, and ached to feel she had some semblance of control, which made her take it wherever she could.

Rather than arguing, Emma merely nodded, heading forward quickly and relieved that Regina and Henry willingly kept pace, one on each side of her, bolstering her without words. As they continued, Emma felt tingling energy, prickling sparks of heat running along her veins, making trails she felt she should be able to look down and see glowing beneath her skin in the dark. Her breath went short, coming out in ragged puffs. "Killian…" she breathed out desperately, recklessly allowing the hope free rein inside her, recognizing that the only other times she had felt such heat and excitement in her blood were when he was near. They must be getting closer to him, and it was all Emma could do not to break into a run.

A chilly gust of air ghosted over her arm, and she shivered involuntarily, turning to the side for the source of the draft and noticing a fissure that opened into a nearly hidden alcove off the main part of their underground cavern. With that same rush of intuition and tingling thrill, Emma turned aside and squeezed through the gap in the solid rock wall. Henry and Regina pressed in close behind her when she hesitated, trying to squint through the darkness. Something had called to her, but she didn't see anything except a dark, empty room of stone walls and floors at first, until Regina finally burst out in exasperation, "For pity sakes, must I do everything?!" With a flourish, she conjured orbs of fire in each hand, illuminating the area before them enough to discern shadowy shapes, and then flung the lights toward torches they could now glimpse over their heads in sconces placed all around the strange dim niche off the larger cave.

Emma had just begun to snap back at Regina, when her voice stopped in her throat on a sharp gasp at the startling sight before her. At the far end of the space, near the back wall, flickering light glinted off the steel gray metal of a thick chain trailing from a crank to the side of the ceiling, then down to manacles which held pale wrist and forearm locked together and extended over the head of a person slumped on their knees. Emma's heart stuttered in fear and vicarious pain, immediately recognizing the motionless, silent, almost lifeless form before them. Only a few seconds' glimpse at the battering of bruises and scars on the pale expanse of his bared back were all she could stand. Without taking time to worry whether or not it would work, she waved her hand desperately through the air, dissolving the chain to nothingness. With what had been stretching him and holding his body unnaturally upright gone, Killian fell prone on the hard rock floor with a soft, insensate groan escaping his mouth.

Dashing wildly to his side, Emma gathered Killian's limp form in her arms, holding him close as best she could, smoothing her trembling hands through his coarse, shaggy black hair and over his chilled, clammy skin, aching to ease his pain. She wasn't expecting to feel Henry pressed up against her side worriedly and reaching out to touch her pirate's arm with gentle concern, nor for him to whisper "Killian? Can you hear us?" She could sense Regina's presence close at their backs as well, standing guard. But when she grumbled, "What happened to you, Guyliner? Mouth off to the Lord of the Dead himself?" Emma was surprised to hear the quaver of emotion behind the Mayor's retort as well, and she knew that Regina was nearly as rattled by the state of their pirate as she was herself. The fact that he had clearly been hidden away didn't help her state of mind. How long had he been held there like that? It was as though he’d been hidden where anyone who might venture into those depths would pass by him unaware and leave him to his misery.

She gathered Killian even closer to her, and was just bending her forehead to rest against his when he jerked awake unexpectedly, snapping back to consciousness with a confused panic, and though clearly weakened and in pain, he flung himself away from her with terrified force, scrabbling backward blindly.

His voice was hoarse when it rang out and echoed back against the close walls and low ceiling, cracking with fear and mistrust, raw from what Emma feared might have been days crying out in hopeless despair and agony as he languished in torment, thinking that he would never be found. Killian's harsh, broken words lashed her heart like a whip, making her as painfully desperate as he when he howled, "Back, Demon! Stop tormenting me! Take any form you wish…but…not hers! Please…no more!"

Emma tried to shush him, begged him to truly see her as she brushed a hand down his stubbled jaw, her heart feeling new pangs of guilt and regret at the sight of the ages-old scar that had always dashingly graced his cheek bleeding again as though it had been freshly carved anew into his skin. Were all of the weals, cuts, and bruises adorning his scarred chest and back old, once-healed wounds returned to livid intensity by the insidious nature of this place and the unfinished business it deemed Killian Jones to have?

Before she could utter anything else, he cried out again, his voice mere shards of its usual deep, smooth timbre. "No! Not Emma! You are not her! Leave me! Leave me!"

When he flinched from her touch yet again, it felt as though the Dark One dagger itself had been stabbed into her breast. Emma wanted to curl up beside him and weep – hopelessness, fear, concern, and love welling up uncontrollably within at the thought that she had found him, but he might be too far gone to bring back. She steeled herself to speak to him once more in soft, pleading tones as she swept her hand across his brow, "Killian, please…look at me. It is Emma. I promise, it's me. I'm here…"

Fear darted across his face for several more taut, charged moments, looking so strange on one who had always met challenges and danger head-on, an arched brow and a dark retort for any man, beast, or monster unwise enough to think he would back down. Then, after several tense, breathlessly waiting seconds, it was as though a cloud passed over his countenance and vanished again, the shade blinding him seemed to fall from his eyes and recognition dawned as he stared at her, drinking in her face, desperate to believe. "Swan?" he whispered, voice soft and awed though rough with ill use, finally daring to hope. A trembling hand reached out toward her face, and she quickly bent to lean her cheek against his palm, as needy for his touch as he was to make sure she was real. "Emma…Love…is it really you? And H-Henry? …Lad, you're here as well?"

"Of course," Henry assured, grinning rakishly in a way Emma knew he must have picked up from Killian. Though his eyes were glassy, Henry answered this man he'd come to look up to with assurance, "Think I'd risk being deprived of a dashing rescue, Captain?"

Her love grinned back at her son crookedly, but said no more, still somewhat overcome by Henry's devotion.

Regina cleared her throat from where she stood just behind them, keeping a wary eye on the entrance. It brought a much-needed measure of levity to the trio on the floor when she grumbled, "No need to acknowledge my presence, Pirate. I simply followed them down here for my health. Brimstone and sulfur do wonders for the skin, you know."

Killian inclined his head slightly in a semblance of the mocking bow he often gave her when they squabbled. "Why, of course, your Majesty," he replied with a knowing wink, "but it is lovely to see you all the same."

The queen huffed, but gave him the tiniest quirk of her red lips in a begrudging smile.

Emma did not miss the way her love winced at even the smallest of offhand movements, but she couldn't look him over properly or try to heal any of his wounds now. They needed to get him out of his prison, first and foremost. She thought about trying to transport them all from the dungeon to the lake shore instantly with her magic, but discarded the idea almost as quickly as it came to her, knowing her powers had been behaving too unpredictably in the depths of the Underworld to be sure of where they might end up. The same concern kept her from asking Regina to move them, or – she assumed – from the queen's offering. She began to attempt standing again, ready to pull Killian up with her. "Come on, let's – "

Just as Killian spoke once more, his mind working through the situation quickly as he became more aware, and already worried for their safety, "Wh-what are all of you doing here? You can't be caught here. I d-don't want you to be trapped as well."

"Too bad," Emma shook her head, finally regaining her feet and, with Henry's help, easing him to stand as well between them. Killian was wobbly and leaning on her more than she would have liked, but then, after being held in one position for so long, she knew his limbs must be working their way back to life, beyond the injuries which must also be draining his strength. "We're not leaving without you. You've already been the hero…" here she had to swallow hard, her eyes tearing up as she remembered him dying in her arms. "Now, let me be the Savior and bring you home where you really belong."

Those devastating blue eyes bore into hers with such intensity, burning with the ardor of his next words. "Emma…Love…I knew the sacrifice I was making. This is where I belong now…what I deserve…and if the rest of you are safe…. Please, there must be a terrible price for this, and … and I won't have you paying it."

Despite his weakened state and the fervent emotion trembling within the words, his resolve was clear. Emma knew she could not fail to heed him again – not this time – but she also needed him to see that she would not be happy, would not be safe, when he suffered here alone for both their mistakes, his noble sacrifice cheapened by Gold's treachery. It wasn't right; it wasn't enough for her. She didn't have a home without him. Yet, she had to allow him this choice; she couldn't take that right away a second time. Drawing in a deep breath, she assured him, "We have a way to bring you back, one that will work. The rest of us will be fine." She paused, met his eyes hopefully, took a deep breath, and asked, "Killian, don't worry about me or anyone else; just answer me honestly: Do you want to come back with us?"

He wet his lips, obviously struggling with emotion and desire versus his sense of duty and lingering guilt. Holding her gaze, his next words came out so raw and vulnerable that they scraped across her heart, tearing loose pieces that she had already given to him. "Aye, Swan, I would wish that more than anything. You must know that. But…I do not wish anyone else to be punished or imprisoned here in my stead…if there is even a chance that could happen…"

"No, Killian," she interrupted, shaking her head gently as she brushed an unruly shock of black hair off his forehead lovingly. "You don't understand. We won't leave anyone behind. This will work." She bit her lower lip, trying to peer right into his soul, the way he had so often done with her. "Trust me?" she asked then, everything they had risked and all her future happiness riding on his answer.

"Aye, Love, I do," he swore, bringing the hand he clutched tightly in his up to clumsily brush his lips over her knuckles, "and I always will."

"Good," she said simply, a small smile gracing her mouth, and then his face as well, as they both remembered how that very response from her had sustained and given him hope through a full year of obstacles and doubts until they had been reunited once before.

Turning to Regina, Emma knew she couldn't hesitate, knew Killian would start protesting again if he figured out what she planned to do – no matter how sure she was that it would work. Shooting Henry a quick, reassuring smile, she squared her shoulders and gave the other woman a curt nod, "Let's do this," she affirmed.

Regina didn't waste a second, gripping Emma's upper arm to keep her steady and plunging a hand into her chest. Emma couldn't stop a gasp at the jarring invasion and strange sense of disconnect she felt when the formerly evil queen withdrew her hand, Emma's slightly battered, partly scabbed in gray, but mostly glowing, red heart within her grasp.

"No!" Killian cried out aghast, only knowing that any heart he had seen taken from a chest had been squeezed in nightmarish torment. "What are you doing!?" he lurched forward, fruitlessly aiming to stop her, but Henry clung to his arm determinedly from where he stood on the pirate's other side helping to keep him upright.

"Killian," Henry pleaded, trying to offer comfort even though his voice quavered too. "It's okay. She's not going to crush it. Emma wanted her to do this…Look!" Henry knew there was still a risk; splitting a heart had worked for his gramps and grandma, and he knew his mom and Killian loved each other deeply, but they didn't have any guarantee.

Emma slumped forward, unaware, and though she wasn't heavy, with his own injuries and weakness, it nearly brought Killian down too. Awkwardly, he took what strength he had left to untangle their fingers and wrap his arm around her, drawing Emma to his side though it pained the open gashes on his torso, and letting her head come to rest on his shoulder.

When he turned back to Regina, her gaze was intent on the heart in her hand, as concerned as he had ever seen the proud royal. Determinedly, she worked at the organ until, to all of their intense relief, it split down the middle and she reached forward to press half of it into each of their chests.

"Ready, Captain?" she asked, voice taut and nervous, though he knew she would never say so.

He gave her a nod, meeting her eyes fiercely before letting his gaze return to Emma's soft, lax, but still lovely, face. In the next instant, he drew a fuller, more rejuvenating breath than he had taken since falling on the shores of the lake in Storybrooke. There was still the odd sensation of a hand in his chest, but a moment more and that was gone too as Regina pulled back, leaving a half of his love's heart within his body.

Emma surfaced to consciousness with a similar heaving breath, blinking as her light once more suffused her cheeks, and her eyes regained their lively sparkle. "Are we okay?" she asked blearily, and then more fervently, "Did it work?!"

"It would seem so," Regina said drily, arching a perfectly sculpted brow as if to say, 'You're alive and speaking to me, aren't you?', but she spared a cautious, genuine smile for the savior and Emma could sense the relief behind the harsh veneer. "Now," Regina continued, "let's not wait around to see what else can go wrong. It's time we were home." With a wave of her hand, clearly having deemed the risk worth it, and a swirl of purple smoke, they were all standing with a jolt on the shore of Hades' realm, right next to the boat which had brought them from Storybrooke.

Looking around in surprise as he reoriented himself, Killian already felt some of his lost strength and vigor returning to him, and he marveled at the power and love for him that must have been held within Emma's heart to pull this off so quickly and so well. Henry placed a hand on his hook's brace, drawing his attention with a grin while pointing out fast-approaching figures in the near distance.

Squinting, Killian could see Dave, Mary Margaret, and Robin coming toward them at a run, and was touched and humbled once more to think that all of these people would venture to the very depths of Hell for the likes of him. Once the rest of their rescue party had reached them at the water's edge – minus Gold, whom no one seemed inclined to worry about – Robin greeted him with an exuberant cry of welcome, while Dave clapped him on the shoulder firmly, and Mary Margaret – to Killian's complete and utter astonishment – flung her arms around him in a joyful, maternal hug.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Milady," Killian managed, almost embarrassed at such a greeting from a woman who at best had always seemed unsure about him as a suitor for her daughter.

The dark-haired royal pulled back with a watery smile, but not before pausing to whisper in his ear, "We needed to get you back, Killian. I don't think I could have stood to watch Emma in that state any longer. She was … broken …without you."

The pirate dipped his head, hiding a swell of emotion at her words, and even when he raised his face once more, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears he sniffed back conspicuously.

"Well," Robin called out, breaking into the thoughts of all their gathered group, bow over his shoulder and fingers once again laced with Regina's, "shall we go?"

"Not so fast, Archer," a silky voice rang out, stopping all of them in their tracks, just as they had been ready to step into the boat pointed home. "I do believe you're planning to steal something – or should I say someone? – who belongs to me."

The unassuming gentleman in a sleek, tailored suit who strutted toward them over the dead, brown grass before the lake, didn't look like much of a threat, but none of them were taken in by his calm, almost jovial manner, nor his pleased, oily smile. "Don't listen to him," Regina ordered tersely, urging Henry, Robin. Snow, and David into the boat ahead of her as planned. "He can't stop us from leaving. We aren't dead, and therefore we aren't part of his domain."

Hades, as Emma realized the man must be, moved ever closer and shook his head like a disappointed parent would at a child who refused to obey. "Ah," he answered smoothly, "but I fear one of you is indeed under my dominion. Breathed his last on these very shores, in fact."

Emma stepped just slightly in front of Killian, wavering slightly as she still recovered from aftereffects of losing part of a vital organ. Yet, she looked as fierce and defiant as she ever had; red jacket standing out against her stark, dull surroundings and a glow emanating from her as she stared down the ruler of the Underworld himself. "You can't have him," she growled through gritted teeth.

Even as Killian feared for her safety, knowing all too well what this seeming "gentleman" and his demons could do, he couldn't deny that his Swan was glorious – a sight to behold.

Emma motioned behind her for Regina to get in the boat as well and take Killian with her. The regal balked, a quick, "Emma, are you sure about…" escaping, but she was cut off with a jerky nod and set jaw, and she did as the Savior asked, pulling Killian forcibly after her.

"Admirable determination, my dear," Hades taunted, "but you might as well admit defeat. I am well acquainted with this pirate, all that brave stoicism mixed with his massive self-loathing for his past wrongs makes a nice break for me from eons of monotonous sniveling, pleading beggars for mercy. Fresh entertainment playing with someone who can endure so much pain, it's quite addictive, you see. Not to mention… I've been alerted to your little scheme to steal my new plaything. It won't work. Even if I were inclined to release one of my subjects, it isn't possible. He died, he is one of mine now, and there is not a thing you can do about it."

A second shadowy figure emerged from the surrounding mist and darkness, and as the person came to stand just at Hades' elbow, Emma recognized Gold, an insidious smile on his smug, self-satisfied face. "Miss me, Dearies?" he cackled ominously. Then his gleaming gaze narrowed as it fell on Emma. "I did warn you not to test me, Miss Swan," he stated with chilling finality, a cunning glint casting frightening light in his eyes. "Thanks to my early warning, our temporary host has promised me that he will make sure our near-escapee finds his stay even more unpleasant from now on, and has given me his word to keep you as well, far away from my Belle, who will have no idea what I've done, and right here with him to magnify the punishment for you both. A simple memory wipe on the rest of you meddlesome fools who insist on playing heroes, and I shall finally have my happy ending."

Emma heard the scuffling of Killian trying to fight his way out of Regina's and Robin's grasps to get back to her. "You'll do no such thing, Crocodile!" he was railing, as she could hear Snow gasp in shock and horror, and Henry and her father's yells of anger and dismay. All of that was drowned out though by the roaring in her ears and the intense desire she had to throttle the cowardly pawnbroker with her bare hands. Of course he would go and try to get in good with the Devil himself to double cross them! As if making Killian's sacrifice to destroy the darkness void for his own gain hadn't been terrible enough! The rage that overcame her with knowing that these two monstrous fiends could be so blasé about the torment they wanted to put Killian through, at seeing for herself all they had already done to the man she loved, was vibrating through her being and she sensed her magic about to explode uncontrollably, blindly. Still, she narrowed her eyes, determined not to give anything away to the insidious crocodile. She understood now why Killian's nickname for his foe had always been so apt – reptilian, grasping, clawing, and willing to do anything to save his own leathery hide and secure his own self-interests, despite who else might be hurt along the way. She quickly turned her focus back to Hades though. No matter how badly she wanted to strike Gold down, this fallen deity was the one with the real power in the Underworld.

"You know," Hades taunted, a mocking pout of fake sympathy on his face, "it really is quite tragic, Savior. You seem to be able to save everyone but the ones you care for most. Love can do much, but even where there is love…dead is still dead."

Emma was backed right up to the edge of the water, her heels actually touching the side of their little boat as it rocked on the dark, uneasy tide. Hades stood practically nose to nose with her, but she wouldn't give in. Instead, she nodded toward Gold. "We'll see about that," she hissed, forcing bravado she only partially felt, "but you might want to question whether your new partner has told you everything."

With that, she stepped backwards into the boat, and Charon began to row away, no other option, his mindless task ingrained in his being until the end of time.

Hades raised a hand, and some red bolt of radiating power shot toward them, but it hit an invisible barrier none of them could see, ricocheted off the wooden boat's side, and went barreling back, knocking the Devil and the Dark One flat on their backs on the shore. Emma felt a pang in her chest like a plucked guitar string vibrating, and everything in her vision went hazy. She staggered, seeing less and less as she heard them all talking to her, around her, anxiously. She had just enough sight and awareness left to reassure herself that they were still moving toward home, and then it all faded away as she fell back into Killian's – and her family's – arms.

~~~~CS~~~~~CS~~~~CS~~~~CS~~~

The following afternoon…

Emma Swan blinks her eyes against the gentle sunshine filtering in warm, yellow stripes through the plain white curtains she hung in the Captain's quarters of Killian's ship. Yawning and stretching languidly, she can't help the grin which spreads slowly and happily across her face upon realizing just where she is and in whose arms she has been resting. They made it home again – all of them – safe and sound, and she is snuggled up with her pirate in his bunk. Sitting up just a bit to gaze down at him affectionately, honestly enjoying the view, and able to see now that they are in the land of the living he already has more color and his scars have once again begun to fade, Emma trails her hand along his chest, playfully running her fingers through the coarse hair covering his muscled torso, unable to stop staring at the man she literally went to Hell and back to find. The half a heart they now share swells with love until it seems to overflow, and Emma wriggles back into Killian's warm embrace, while he continues to sleep – she hopes peacefully. Even deep in slumber, Killian gathers her closer to his side tenderly with the arm draped over her hip and mumbles something she can't quite make out against the warm skin of her neck at the collar of her sweater.

His brow furrows, and she aches to soothe him, to assure him that they are together again and all will be well. She knows that things won't stay peaceful in their little town for long, nor can she keep him from the nightmares and remembrances of the ordeal he has been through. Still, she places a kiss to his brow and murmurs, "Shh…rest, Killian," as she brushes back the dark fringe of his hair. 

The last day and night are an exhausted, emotional blur before Emma's eyes as she lies back down and tries to return to rest with her pirate. She remembers the traumatic details of finding Killian in that stone dungeon and his ancient scars and emotional pains brought to fresh life upon his skin, how sapped and hopeless he had been – to the point that he had seemed unable to acknowledge they had come after him. She remembers Regina splitting her heart, and all of them standing of the shores of the lake as Hades tried to stop them from returning to the world of the living with her sailor. Beyond that though… the boat ride back, how she had ended up here with Killian, cozily wrapped in his embrace... it is all a misty jumble in her mind. She can bring back snatches of her parents', Henry's, and even Regina's and Robin's voices, discussing what to do once they reached town, how they had all progressed while they were split up in the Underworld, and if she were truly okay, but none of it comes into clear focus for her. She has the vague, lingering suspicion that Killian must have carried her to his ship, rather than the house she'd taken over as the Dark One, or her parents' loft, over any other ideas or suggestions, and that the others must have decided that he knew best and left the two of them alone to heal together.

With a sigh, she forces her eyes to the gash made by Excalibur still blatantly visible on his neck, while Killian remains unaware. Though it is no longer ragged and draining his lifeblood before her very eyes, Emma knows that this wound will never completely fade. In some way, this particular scar will always be upon his skin, reminding her of when it all went wrong, how horribly she failed him. Her fingers tremble as she traces the abraded skin, and she blinks back her tears quickly. Not, however, before a couple of them escape and pool on the warm skin in the hollow of his collarbone.

Rousing, Killian's eyes blink open to find her awake and studying him sadly, her eyes welling with tears and her hands clutching his shoulders as though afraid he will be taken from her again. "What is it, Love?" he murmurs, smoothing his hand through her hair and snugging his hookless bare wrist against the thick wool sweater at her back, pulling her impossibly closer still. "What's happened?"

She shakes her head, a breath wet with choked back sobs huffing out of her chest. "Nothing, Killian, I just…" she traces her fingers lightly over the shell of his ear, grinning at how the top curve comes almost to a bit of a point.  In spite of her jumbled feelings and the fact that she is still struggling to get her words out, she cannot help but marvel at each tiny wonder that make up her True Love. "You'll always have those two new scars…and it's….it's my fault…"

"Oh, Emma…" Killian breathes in soft, stunned understanding, his eyes infinitely kind and unfailingly full of love. "You’ve more than made it right. When I blamed you, I was nothing but the worst version of myself. Do not carry those words, nor that guilt, any longer, Swan." He sighs, sensing that she is still upset and punishing herself, and briefly rests his chin atop the soft golden hair at the crown of her head. Gathering a bit more nerve, he adds gruffly, "That you were so desperate to keep me with you…" he pauses to wet his lips, not wanting his voice to waiver or to make her doubt, "While I detested losing control of myself… I also never thought to be so loved."

Emma's tears do begin to escape her at that, though she can't utter any sort of response. Leaning up to rest her forehead against his, wanting only to have him see in her eyes that he is loved now, more than either of them would have once felt possible, more than either of them could have ever known.

"You entered into the very depths of Hell to fetch me back to your side, Emma. You walked amidst my demons and my nightmares of loved ones I have lost and the horrible things I have done, and you pulled me out into the light once again. You are quite literally my heart now, and I never wish to be parted from you."

"If I have my way, you never will be," Emma vows fervently against his lips in response, just before fusing their mouths in a tender kiss that begins to ease the pain that wounds and separation had wrought. Both are quiet then, at peace wrapped in each other's arms. Swearing to never be torn apart again; they are happy, and they are home.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @cosette141 @sotangledupinit @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @stahlop @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @thislassishooked @cocohook38​ @mie779​ 

[itsstraykids]

hello hello! i had the absolute fuckall busy 2days, hope u didnt mind the accidental ghosting. i kept wanting to reply but i was feeling too tired to do it lmao. hello! hope ur doing well! i absolutely love the word coinkydink btw, im stealing it thank u. the fact!!!!!!!! that u do music production!!!!!!!! so cool!!!! consider me amazed yayy. ive always been unhealthily obsessed with chan's vocals, seeing him sing, esp with as much love and enjoyment/passion as he does is chills inducing to me. and yeah!!! his skills are so impressive, esp 3racha with rockstar album i very much agree!! i still cant pick a favorite song, and its funny bcs that's seldom the case no matter how much i love the whole album. cover me was played a lot tho (i was soo proud of hyunjin!!) and their vocalss yess!! seungmin han i.n leeknow and then ofc chan felix hyunjin changbin, they all did such good jobs, and their voice shined a notch brighter yes!! (mildly obsessed everytime changbin sings btw i am a sucker for it) their vocal heavy songs have always been some of my beloved!!!! never-ending story that i never get enough of, levanter and in christmas evel the way 24-25 was my immediate favorite! skz and ballads is smth mind-scratchingly wonderful, like always. what are some of your other favorite kpop groups?? what genres do u like as well, like i really love and find myself obsessed with k-indie, if we are talking korean language songs? what kind of songs do u like and listen to!! just wanted to know more abt u as well!! esp now that ik u produce too!! and just wanted to say ur art!!!! its so amazing and gorgeous!! so talented!!

^^apologies if i sound mildly incoherent (ik i do) its so damn cold outside both my face and brain have made it a mission to resemble chunks of ice cream so im!! thinking in circles p ls excuse. hope u have a good day an amazing week and great end of year and holidays!!

no worries at ALL dude the holidays are crazy, i really like this secret santa project but there’s so much else going on it’s also a lot 😅 yes! i’m stoked you liked rockstar. i thought it was so good, i was really in love with the songs/choreo/vibes and the members all seemed so happy! OMG YES Changbin’s voice is so good…why doesn’t he sing more it’s crazy…i have rewatched their conodoll episode a couple times because all their voices are just wonderful to listen to

i like 24-25 too! and that music video is just too sweet, it gave me cavities lmao. my fave kpop groups are skz, txt, and my OG (and forever) kpop band is shinee! i’ve been getting into xdinary heroes too. it seemed like everyone released amazing EPs this october-november, i was living for it. good music was raining down left and right.

i like so many genres in all languages! rock, punk, electronic, indie—i used to listen to a lot of k-indie (nell, the black skirts, the koxx, clazziquai) but now i don’t really know any more recent bands. i’d love to hear what your favorite songs/bands are!! i’m in a finding-new-music phase right now. i just found out about this new zealand band called the beths, their album “expert in a dying field” is a lyrical masterpiece.

thank you for your sweet compliments!! haha i’m trying to get better at portraits…oof, sorry it’s so cold where you are! bundle up and i hope you get some sun soon!! i’m in california so it’s actually really nice weather. exactly like the rest of the year. i do miss having seasons. but it’s also nice to go to the beach and not freeze lmao

best of luck in the final week before the holidays!! gonna be a crazy one i think, i have to bake stuff until my oven gives up and cries