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random0lover · 1 year

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Hi! I was wondering if u can write how simon ghost riley reacts to if u want to fem!reader being all dolled up for an event or sumn. you imagine the rest 😭😭😭😭😭. love ur writing btw 🙏

A Day for First’s and Adding a Second

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x wife fem!reader

Summary: It’s your and Simon’s son’s kindergarten graduation so you have to dress nicely and Simon loves it. Also a little surprise at the end.

Word Count: 1,686

Warnings: slightly NSFW (grinding while fully clothed) so 18+, established relationship, fluff at the end, reader is called love once, Simon being all hot and bothered, Price is your dad 🫣, pregnancy mentioned towards the end, is fem!reader and should be POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡

Notes: This is my first Simon fic and I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me adores it and the other thinks it’s trash, either way I wanted to respond to this request as it’s so sweet and the idea is adorable. I hope I was able to do your request justice my love! Also flashback are in italics.

You don’t often dress fancy but today your and Simon’s son was going to be graduating kindergarten. He goes to a private school at the moment so there were certain expectations and dress codes that you had to follow whether you wanted to or not.

The kids were all to wear navy blues and the parents were all to wear white or black. Everyone dressing formally.

You were currently getting ready in yours and Simons shared bathroom while Simon was helping your son finish getting ready.

You decided pretty quickly that while you would’ve loved to wear a white dress, being around children for up to three hours did not go well with the color white.

So you went with a black dress that reached right above your knees with loose sleeves that went down your arms to help make sure that you wouldn’t be cold with a neckline that was set right above your chest. The dress wasn’t to form fitting so that you would be able to sit for an hour or two without being uncomfortable or feeling constricted.

You were just finishing up your preferred makeup look when there was a light tap at the bathroom door.

You call out a small come in but start digging through the jewelry box on the counter that Simon had slowly been filling up over the years that you had been together no matter how much you protested against it.

You heard the door click open but didn’t hear Simon come in but you could feel his presence there, you always could.

“Hey Si, which necklace do you think I should wear?” You’re holding a necklace in each hand. The one in your right hand was the first necklace he had ever gotten you for your 6 month anniversary. It had two pear-shaped diamonds at the center surrounded by round-cut diamonds on a sterling silver chain.

The one in your left was a necklace that had been passed down through your family line and not too long ago your dad gifted it to you as a birthday present. It has 20 round shaped diamonds and in the center sits an oval shaped diamond with a white gold setting on a Singapore chain.

You usually didn’t have a hard time choosing a piece of jewelry but today you were slightly conflicted and his silence wasn’t helping.

You finally look up from the jewelry in your hand to look into the mirror and find Simon leaning against the bathroom door frame in an all black suit with gloves to match. He usually wears a black face mask out in public but he doesn’t have it on yet leaving it off until you were all ready to leave.

You feel his gaze slide along your body leaving a hot trail in its wake and you patiently wait until his eyes connect with yours in the mirror. Once they do you can’t help the sharp breath that escapes your mouth from the intense look he is holding in his dark brown hues.

A hum starts in your core when he steps towards you in three large steps and slightly leans his weight into you causing you to lean over the counter slightly.

You squeeze your eyes shut relishing in the heat surrounding you. Your lips part in a silent gasp when he slides his hand down your spine leaving it to settle on your hip and in the same moment runs his mouth along the arch of your neck and up to your ear.

“If we didn’t have somewhere to be I would take my time ravishing you against this sink.” His deep voice wraps around your body making goosebumps trail the lengths of your arms.

The impact of his words on your hazy brain makes you grind back against him, he lets out a small groan and rocks his hips into you while tightening his grip on your hip and pulling you back against him causing the perfect amount of friction.

You’re both lost in the moment trying to keep your moans and his grunts as quiet as possible so that your son didn’t hear.

Your body is getting hotter the longer you both claw at each other. It has been too long since the last time you’ve had the chance to feel each other's skin without being interrupted. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his breath is puffing at your ear and he’s pulling you into him harder and harder, almost lifting your feet up off the ground.

Your ears are starting to ring from the pleasure and the rope in your stomach that is pulling taut when you hear little feet running across the house combined with giggling when you yank yourself away from Simon and open your eyes for the first time since this whole ordeal started.

You're busy trying to fix your dress and Simon is adjusting the bugle in his slacks when you hear the running stop outside yours and Simon's shared room before picking up again and the giggling sounding farther away.

He’s staring at you again when you look up at him making the fire in your body that was slowly sizzling out to start up again.

“The one your dad gave you.” You look at him confused for a moment and he smirks lightly, “the necklace.”

You look over at the two necklaces that had been carelessly tossed onto the counter during your moment. You pick up the necklace he said and offer it to him while moving your hair out of the way making your neck available for him.

You face the mirror and once he’s behind you you look into his eyes in the mirror, “Speaking of my dad,” you let out a sigh,”he offered to babysit tonight.”

He pauses mid wrapping the chain around your neck, his eyebrows lifting, “Price actually offered to watch him?”

You roll your eyes, “How many years have we been together and how old is our son now? I’m pretty sure my dad being mad at you is gone by now.”

He latches the necklace and slides his hand around you to grip your chin making sure your eyes stay connected in the mirror, “I don’t know,” he moves his mouth right up against your ear making you shiver, “I can still hear how mad he was when he found out his lieutenant was doing more than helping his captain's daughter move into her new flat.”

You sigh, mind flashing back to the day that all the tension between you and Simon finally snapped.

You had found a flat to finally move into and your dad was supposed to help you but something came up at work that was a bit more important so he sent over a man he knew he could rely on. What he didn’t know is that you and Simon had been fighting the urge to give into one another and you two being alone all day? It was bound to happen.

Price had walked in when Simon was helping you put the last of the furniture in which was your couch. You weren’t in a compromising position or anything but your neck was littered with love bites. You had a glow to you that you didn’t have that morning when you saw Price, and you were wearing Simon’s shirt leaving him with just a black wife beater on.

The man flew into a rage slamming his fist into Simon's face and a shocked Soap was left gawking until he kicked into gear yanking his captain up off of his lieutenant which was not an easy feat.

Simon didn’t fight back one bit as he knew that this was the reaction he was going to get. The captain had made one rule with his team, “Don’t touch my fucking daughter.”

It took months for your dad to even be okay with seeing you together at all. He could see how in love with each other you were and so the day Simon asked for his blessing he of course said yes.

You're pulled out of your thoughts from Simon sighing into your neck and gently kissing a sensitive spot. “Was thinking we could maybe make your favorite dinner and watch a movie?”

He nods, stepping away from you, “sounds good to me love.”

You give him a smirk in the mirror, “I also have a surprise for you.”

His eyes glide over you again focusing on how the dress hugs you in all the right places, “oh really? I’m going to hold you to that so no getting all cuddled up in my lap and falling asleep early.”

You know he’s teasing so you snort and roll your eyes before shooing him out of the bathroom trying to keep a knowing smile hidden, “I’m almost ready so why don’t you go get our little energy ball in his car seat.”

He gives you a quick kiss before walking out of the room and you hear him calling for your son. You listen for a moment to make sure he won’t be coming back and once you're sure you pull out a little key to unlock a part of the jewelry box.

You dig your hand into the open drawer and pull out a light blue rectangle box with a pink ribbon tied around it. Inside the box were three positive pregnancy tests. You wanted to be sure and didn’t want to get your hopes up so you wanted to take more than one.

You were so excited to tell him about the pregnancy as a few weeks ago he came to you asking if you would ever want another baby. You were hoping for a little girl this time around, the perfect addition to your family of three. Adding a second bundle of joy to your lives.

You hear Simon calling into the house for you and you yell back that you were coming. You put the little box back into the drawer and grab your purse and leave the room thinking about how your life is so different than what you thought it would be and honestly you couldn’t be happier.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you liked this little fic! I wasn’t sure how to go about the ending so personally don’t know how to feel about it and would love some feed back. Anyways I hope you all have amazing days <3

Requests are open! I can not promise when or if I will write them but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them a little bit easier to write but it’s not required. Thanks for reading my darlings ♡

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #simon riley #captain john price #Price is your dad #mw2 #cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #fem!reader #wife fem!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #ghost cod #random0lover my writing

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stillxnunpxidintern · 2 years

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Steddie x Reader Imagine - Sleeping/Laying positions

Normally it’s you that sleeps in the middle playing little spoon for one of the, while the other one uses your chest most like a pillow, listening to your heart while you cradle their head, running fingers through their hair.

They prefer sleeping on either side of you, so that they can protect you. You're pretty sure monsters aren’t gonna be attacking you while you all sleep, they much prefer prey running and screaming.

When one of you get sick, then that person get put in the middle(unless it’s the flu, then you sleep separately from the sick one), so that the other two can take care them, and getting out of the bed to get medicine, water or food if they need.

So if Eddie is the sick one, then normally you sit with your back again the headboard, his head in your lap as you read to him, normally Lord of the rings or The Hobbit, while Steve is bring the food and water, for the three of you.

If Steve the sick one, then you're the one on food and water duty, while Eddie is the one entertaining/looking after Steve, normally it just mean listening to music or watching a movie/something on the tv.

If any of the you have a nightmare(flashbacks) while sleeping, that is automatic middle positions so that the two other can wrap their arms around the middle person, while comforting and speaking soft sweet words.

There are times when it just you and Steve in bed, cause Eddie having a creative night, needing to write it down, whether its for D&D, music or something else. When he does finally joins you both, he will just lay across both your and Steve’s legs, at the bottom of the bed, cause he can.

However when Steve comes to bed late, then he does his bed to be quiet, while getting changed and normally slips in behind Eddie, cause he’s the one less likely to wake up.

You however, if you comes to bed late, will wiggle yourself into the middle, with low protest from Steve who had been sleeping, so you just kiss his cheek before doing same with Eddie, just encase he had woken up.

You all sleep the best when all three of you are in the bed.

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie x Reader #Steve Harrington x Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader #Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Stranger Thing Imagine

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integra1127grimmreaper · 11 months

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No Regrets - Part one

Negan Masterlist

A/N: wattpad request by Neganlover711

Warning: swearing, mention of violence, fluff

Summary: As Negan and his wife sit in their Alexandrian cell, he can't help but ponder on whether she regrets having chosen him.

Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Do you regret it?” Negan utters out as he stood looking out through the small window of their cell.

“No” Nicole answers, gently stroking her eight-month pregnant belly.

“Baby...” Negan exhales turning around to look at her.

“Why are you so fuckin’ stubborn?”

“I’ll repeat the exact words I said to Michonne; I’m either having this baby here in this cell or upstairs in a house, but I'm not doing it without you by my side.”

“I’m sure they’d let me be there if you went into labour while upstairs” Negan attempts to reason with her.

“I’m not taking that chance” Nicole shakes her head, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Sweetheart, its ok...” Negan kneels, cupping her cheeks in the palm of his hands.

“Don’t upset yourself, it’s not good for you and the baby.”

“I’m scared Negan...” Nicole whimpers out.

“How are we going to raise a child in here?”

“I know...” Negan gently brushes the pad of his thumb across her cheek, attempting to calm her.

“I am too, that’s why I’m begging you, take Michonne’s offer.”

“Do you honestly believe they’ll let us stay upstairs after the baby is born?” Nicole tearfully retorts.

“They’re either going to haul us back down here or even worse; take the baby from me when I'm weak from giving birth. At least this way I know that you’re around to stop that from happening.”

“Don’t think like that...they won’t take our baby away...” Negan gently shushes Nicole while rocking her in his arms.

Pushing hard against Negan’s chest, Nicole flashes him a dark gaze.

“Have you forgotten Gracie?”

Negan drops his head with a sigh of defeat.

“That’s right...” Nicole comments.

“They killed her parents, and Aaron took her as his own. She doesn’t know anything about her real parents, doesn’t even know that Aaron isn’t her real dad.”

“This is different” Negan responds with a head shake.

“No, it's not” Nicole frowns.

“Besides, it’s comfortable enough down here for me to give birth.”

“The only reason why they made things more comfortable is because you’re pregnant” Negan points out.

“If you weren’t, we’d still be sleeping on a shitty bed, eating shitty food.”

“I’d rather have the shitty bed and food than be away from you” Nicole protests.

“Fuckin’ stubborn” Negan shakes his head at her.

“And you love me for it...” Nicole flashes him a broad teary smile.

“My stubborn, badass Wife...” Negan draws in closer to her for a kiss.

“Whoa...” Negan mutters out, staring down at her belly, feeling the baby kicking up a storm against him.

“Someone’s awake, and apparently just as feisty as their Mama.”

Kneeling in front of Nicole, Negan rests his head against her belly as he begins talking to the baby.

“Let me tell ya a bit about you’re Ma little one. She's a bona fide badass, and I'm not just saying that cause she’s hot.”

Nicole giggles at Negan’s entertaining antics as he flashes her a mischievous smirk.

“No, that ain’t it... so, let me tell ya about the first day I met her...”

Flashback

Nicole was tired of this never-ending story called the zombie apocalypse; constantly having to be on the go, never knowing a moment of peace. At this point it was either find something stable or end it all.

The night was quiet as Nicole trekked through the woods, too quiet and it was making her feel uneasy.

“This shit isn’t normal...” Nicole softly mumbles to herself the further she went.

Nearing a clearing, Nicole’s suspicions were proven correctly when hearing loud voices and crying.

Making sure to keep well hidden, Nicole watches as a tall, leather wearing man chuckled sadistically while standing over a group of kneeling people.

Surrounding them was an even larger group of heavily armed people watching the man as he ran his mouth at those that were kneeling.

By the looks of him, and the way he conducted himself it was very clear that he was their leader. So enthralled by this man Nicole was that she almost didn’t notice the two completely unrecognizable bodies at his feet.

It was obvious that those kneeling had done something unforgivable to deserve the fate that two of their companions had gotten.

“That was pretty productive...” Negan remarks to Simon as they made their way back home.

“Sure was Bossman” Simon responds.

“They won’t be giving us any trouble from now on.”

“Ya can bet ya ass they won’t” Negan chuckles.

“Put the fear of Negan in them, didn’t I?”

“Sure did Boss. Though it wouldn’t hurt to keep a close eye on them still” Simon remarks.

“They’re desperate, and desperate people are unpredictable.”

“Don’t worry too much about it” Negan shrugs his comment off.

“Rick-the-prick got no-”

Negan’s words were cut short by Simon abruptly having to hit the brakes of the truck.

“What the fuck?!” Negan grunts as he attempts to shake off the whiplash.

“Why’d ya stop?”

“There’s a woman standing in the middle of the road” Simon points out.

“What...?”

A dumbstruck Negan stares out through the windshield and lo and behold; there stood the woman.

“What do you want us to do Boss?” Simon snaps Negan out of his daze.

“Stay back, I’ll find out what her story is” Negan orders getting out the truck.

“But what if she’s with them?” Simon argues.

“I said stay back...” Negan hisses at him in warning.

“Hey there lil lady...” Negan takes careful steps toward the woman as if he was approaching a frightened animal.

“Whataya doing all alone out here?”

“Waiting for you” the woman states matter-of-factly.

“Me...?” Negan stares at her curiously.

“What’s ya name darling?”

“Nicole.”

“Well, pleased to meet ya Nicole... my names Negan. May I ask why ya waiting for me?”

Nicole reaches behind her, pulling a gun out then.

“Whoa, there lil lady!” Negan calmly responds as his men all pulled their weapons out to aim at her.

Turning the gun around in her hand, Nicole stretches it out toward him.

“I’d like to join your group.”

End

Part 2

#twd negan #twdfanfic #twdlovestory #negan x oc #The Walking Dead #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #JDM #negan

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hmspogueobx · 11 months

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Everything to me (Paul Lahote)

Chapter Nine: A grave lapse

Warning: This chapter contains material that may trigger some readers. Mentions of death.

Flashback

Sitting on my bedroom floor, heads resting on the edge of my bed, my best friend Chantelle and I are on episode 5 of Friends. We've been best friends since I moved to Vancouver all those years ago, completely inseparable. Chantelle wanted to spend the day together, but I couldn't contain the feeling that she was holding something in.

"You wanna go outside and do something?" I ask her. "Go get ice cream?"

"Yeah sure. Let's go to the place by the park."

So we get up and dust the Dorito crumbs from our shirts and hop in the car. Once we pull out of the block she starts to ramble.

"Luce I have to tell you something. My dad, well he got a job over in Toronto. So were actually all going to be moving out there really soon." My heart feels like it's jumped out of my throat. I've never coped well with change and losing my other half is definitely a big change. Chantelle can see the color draining from my face and continues on. "Ah see I didn't want to tell you cause I know how you get with stuff like this and it's not easy for me either cause I love you to death and I don't want to lose you as a friend. But I'm going to be so close to the school I want to go to once I graduate and-" She's cut off by the violent trembling coming from my whole body. I can feel a panic attack coming just at the mention of my best friend leaving me. She's leaving me too. Everything is going to change again. I can't do this by myself.

I can feel myself spiraling and before I can stop it, a growl rips out of my chest. My anxiety did me in again...

Let me tell you, shifting into a massive wolf while in a car is not advisable. There's a mess of glass as my paw punches through the windshield. The car swerves to the right and starts tumbling down the hill there, rolling further from the road and into the forest at the bottom. A tree forces the car into a jerking stop, but we've hit it at full speed. I hear the car screech in protest as it bends unnaturally, the steering wheel just inches away from Chantelle's legs now. My massive form has destroyed the inside of the car and all the windows around me., and the trees have twisted the outside of the car into an unrecognizable form.

Then the car finally settles.

Suddenly everything is quiet. So quiet it's eerie. I make myself look over at Chantelle and see the blood running down her face. It takes me a moment to register that the reason it's so eerily quiet is because she's not making a sound. No breath. No heartbeat.

I'm in such a state of shock that my body acts on its own accord, shifting back, and I'm left sitting in my torn up clothes, staring at my beautiful best friend beside me.

She won't get to move to Toronto. She won't get to go to her dream school. She'll never fall in love. Her life has just been cut short before she got a chance to really live. All because I had a damn panic attack.

The sound of sirens behind me snap me back to reality. Taking in the scene around me I know I have no options but to run before anyone knows I was there. It looks like she could have swerved to avoid an animal in the road and lost control, the tumble down the hill and the trees doing all this damage. The sirens are getting louder and I shift back into my wolf. Taking in the scene before me Chantelle's hair blowing in the breeze catches my eye and I'm left staring at her beautiful face for a moment. I let out a strangled howl at the sight and take off in a run, with no destination in mind. I just run until the sounds of screeching metal is overtaken by the sound of my paws thudding on the hard ground.

I'm sitting on my bedroom floor. In the same spot I sat with Chantelle just this morning. I've killed her. And I will never be able to undo that. I've lost her. Because I was scared to lose her. The irony spitting in my face and I let out a dark humorless chuckle.

I need to learn control. Before I hurt anyone else. My dad informs me that the police ruled it an accident. Witnesses heard a wolf howling nearby, so it was assumed that Chantelle lost control of her car when she hit the wolf, taking it down the hill with her. It must have hobbled off according to the cops. But by the look in my dad's eye as he tells me this, I know he knows the truth.

It takes a good while before I start to come back into myself. I tortured myself for weeks but my dad eventually coaxes me to a healthier place. I've reached a point where I just need it to be better. My Aunt Sue mentioned to me on the phone that some of the rez boys have shifted and I immediately know that that's where I'm going to belong. I won't hurt them, and maybe they'll help me with control.

My dad won't budge on the subject for a few more weeks, until I finally convinced him that this would be the best thing for everyone.

And with that, I bring my mind back to the present, and back to the silver wolf before me.

As the playback comes to an end in our minds, I feel Paul's fur on mine. He's leaning his body weight into me and it fills me with a sense of calm. I haven't allowed myself to think freely about Chantelle for almost a year. I feel sort of peaceful having let the memories escape the deepest confines of my brain. Paul stays pressed up against my quietly, listening to me process this new feeling.

"It felt surprisingly good to let go of that. I've been holding onto that for so long." I finally say."

"Good baby. You can always talk to me about anything you know. You don't have to hold onto this stuff alone anymore. It's me and you now."

"Oh you know my deepest darkest secret now Paul, there's no escape for you anymore." I say, and just like that, the serious moment is broken and we're back to sharing silly little things with each other. I now know that Paul's favorite food is fried chicken, and he can't contain his laughter when I tell him the name of my childhood hamster was snuggly.

Eventually the sun starts to come up and we're relieved of duty by Edward slipping through Bella's window. We shift back into our human forms once we're back in our land, grabbing clothes we have stuffed away in the forest. We break through the tree line and out onto LaPush beach. There's no one else in sight and the sun is slowly morphing the sky from navy to purple.

"Will you sit and watch the sun come up with me?" I ask timidly.

"Yeah. Come on." Paul can't hide the smile that creeps onto his face as he grabs my hand and leads me to a spot he deems acceptable, dropping down onto the sand.

I lean my head on his shoulder and his arm seems to naturally wrap around me, enveloping me in his warmth. I know he's not even watching the sunrise, cause I can feel his forehead resting on the side of my head.

A few minutes pass before I break the silence.

"Do you think this counts as our first date?" I ask out of curiosity, and let's be honest, a bit of hopefulness. But Paul pulls back in mock offence.

"What no! When it's our first date you'll know it! I'm gonna pull out all the stops for you. It's going to be epic."

"Well good, I can't wait! I want the full package deal. I expect flowers and I expect to swoon." I tease back.

"Oh I promise. I'll pick you up at 7." And with that Paul plants a kiss on my cheek, gets up and takes off into the woods.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote fluff #paul #twilight #werewolves

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

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He’s Just One More

Flashback and forthing Blackhands, from friendship to very undefined/needs to be talked about but that shit ain’t gonna happen for ages More of Some Sort

Centering around Izzy ‘hey if I’m sick in some way I definitely should fight being made better as hard as possible bc I’m convinced I don’t deserve it’ Hands fdlaksjlsa (no one at me abt projecting on a character rn either fdskalfjaslk)

Title from JCSS bc we’re watching various versions rn and this particular lyric smacked me along with this story idea in the shower like Norman Bates if he was really bad at stabbing, so it basically Has to Stay as the title I think (plus there’s elements of the story that can be thought abt in relation to the idea of that phrase, Izzy as Just One More child to his mother, person Ed knows, pirate, etc)

---

“You look like shit.”

Izzy nods. “So I’ve heard.”

“You’re either taking him off my hands, or you aren’t,” his mother repeats to Ed’s mum. “Which is it?”

“I can’t take-”

“Then if he lives, he lives,” his mother continues on with her laundry folding, all in rapid fire rhythm, not a hem missing in meeting its brother. “And if he dies-”

“Ed, grab him.”

He hears his mother’s shouts, demands for some compensation, but she won’t pursue it. She didn’t with his older siblings, and she won’t with the ones that come after him either. They stay with her until they’re no longer useful, or can’t work, or simply don’t amuse her anymore.

“Of little use, breathing or dead.”

“What’s that?” Ed asks, holding him up and hustling him along the beach towards home.

“Nothing. Just something she used to s-”

“Fuck what she has to say,” he scoffs. “She was going to let you die.”

“I know. I was expecting it.”

“Well, start expecting something different.”

“You look like fucking shit,” Jim frowns. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Stuck on this godforsaken ship in this godforsaken storm, just like you,” Izzy spits back.

“I didn’t mean the seasick thing,” Jim continues. “That’s all of us right now.”

They nod in warning, and duck their head away to vomit over the rail.

“So I see. Is there any task you’re requiring guidance or assistance with then?”

“No, but you-”

“Call if you need me,” Izzy interrupts and does his best to stalk away, inflamed foot screaming in pain. It feels like laying his foot down slowly on a boiling hot pan with every step.

It’s not how Blackbeard would have handled traveling near this storm. But then, this is the Kraken. This is different, and how he feels-

He cuts off his own thought with an audible grumble and pushes it away.

“Israel Basilica Hands, you will eat,” Mother Teach shoves the bowl of oatmeal into his hands. “Your mother is going around taking bets on when you’ll die.“

“Let’s make sure we’re off by at least one day either direction then.”

“Edward! I wash my hands of him for now!”

“No, hey,” Izzy protests, but she only gives him a smirk.

“Izzy!” Ed thunders in the front door and has it sussed out in a heartbeat. “Not eating?”

“Not exactly.”

“Iz,” he drops onto Izzy’s lap, nearly onto the bowl. “I could be out making money right now, couldn’t I?”

“Making money,” Mother Teach scoffs. She’s well aware the two of them don’t work any sort of traditional job (how could they, with the rumor that Ed killed his father, and that if Izzy didn’t help, he at least knew), hates talking about the rich visitors they rob, but can’t ever manage to not comment on it.

She’s a proper mum, in that way. Different from his own, and while it drives Ed mad, it’s almost endearing to Izzy.

“If I start to eat, will you go back out to work?”

“Dunno. You’ll have to start eating, and we’ll see.”

“Oh look,” Mother Teach shoves a bowl into Ed’s hands. “Where did this come from?”

“Mum, I can eat lat-”

If looks could kill, their faces would be melting off into their oatmeal.

“Thank you,” Ed smiles instead, but shakes his head as soon as she heads outside again. “You have to just eat when she gives you stuff. We can’t keep doing this and-”

He sits up, stares at the oatmeal, and then at Izzy. “You’re doing this so I wind up eating lunch with you, aren’t you?”

Izzy shrugs, and begrudgingly digs in. It isn’t that any of the food is ever bad, he just hates the idea of living when his mother wants him alive, or dying right as she wants him dead.

“Is nice to eat again. Not doing that well out there, today.”

“In other words, had you not been near enough to hear your mum call for you just now, you’d be running around still and not eating until dinner, right?”

Ed smirks, and shrugs, and digs in just before his mum leans in the doorway to check on them.

Frenchie takes the square plate from him. “I don’t mind taking it back with mine.”

“I can take my things back to the galley on my own,” Izzy reaches for his cane, and the plate again. “I’m a grown fucking man, for pity’s sake.”

“Yeah, who has a foot swollen like a fucking...” Fang studies Izzy’s foot. “Huh. Frenchie, we need fruits set up for comparison sizing, don’t we?”

“I mean, I’d put that about small coconut at least,” Frenchie says. “All the more reason to just let me walk all our fucking plates back at once!”

He puts his hand down, and settles back into his spot sat on the deck. “You make a good point. Thank you.”

“Sorry, what?”

“He won’t repeat it,” Fang says. “Just soak it in now. He gets easier to deal with when he’s sick. Well, in some ways. Other ways he gets worse.”

“I’d noticed.”

Izzy waits until Frenchie is out of earshot before turning to Fang. “You really think it’s that bad?”

“Your foot? I feel like if you have to ask, you already know the answer,” Fang replies. “But yeah. You gotta tell Ed.”

“Blackbeard is busy keeping us alive.”

“I didn’t say Blackbeard,” Fang insists. “That’s been more a title than anything else for years, hasn’t it?”

“The fuck is this all coming from?”

“Because if you die, what the fuck do you think eventually happens to the rest of us?” Fang hisses. “Stop being so fucking selfish, and tell him to find you help before that rots off and takes you with it!”

He can only blink, and nod. “Thank you, Fang. For your honesty.”

Fang shakes his head, but he does let out a short laugh. “You’re welcome. You’re fucking weird as ever, but you’re welcome.”

“We don’t have the money for it,” Izzy shakes his head, or he feels like he might be. Then again, the fever has him shaking randomly in general, so even if he hasn’t shaken it yet, he’ll get to it.

“I’m sorry, are either of you the head of this household?” Mother Teach snaps.

He can see the thought in Ed’s head. Technically, if they polled anyone else in town, they would unfortunately hand that title to Ed, not his mum.

In reality, she’s the adult and the one bringing in the most funds, and so it’s on her order that they wrap up as warmly as possible and head out together.

The nearest, better doctor is visiting a few miles away. If they go under cover of night, they’ll get there faster.

“If I die, just leave me out here,” Izzy mutters, shivering in Ed’s grasp as they stumble forwards over rock and root and occasional sand.

“I will do no such thing. You wouldn’t leave me out here.”

“Maybe I would.”

“You can’t fucking lie for shit,” Ed laughs. “Why do you even try?”

“Bad habit?”

Ed punches his side playfully out of habit, then winces. “I forgot! Fuck-”

“I’m okay,” Izzy grimaces. “Whatever is going wrong in there wasn’t going to suddenly start going right, with or without the extra punch.”

Ed giggles. “I could have helped kill you! Don’t make me laugh about that.”

“Well, now I’ve got to tell jokes the whole fucking way!”

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re wavy.”

“...you might need to sit down for a moment.”

They drop into a copse of trees, some felled and left to create a semi-covered pocket of leaves and branches to hide in.

Soon, they’ll be too old and too big to hide in spots like this. Well, Ed might get there, at least.

Izzy can accept, as he passes out there in Ed’s arms, that he might not.

“The crew has requested I bring it to your attention,” Izzy finishes quickly. “I regret I couldn’t take care of it myself.”

“Ew,” Ed stares at his foot. “Is that from...oh.”

He gulps. “If you cover that back up with your sock right now, I swear I’ll find us a port to stop at and get you looked over. You can afford it, right?”

“I’ve rings yet hoarded away I could sell,” Izzy nods.

“Good. Next port, we’ll find someone,” Ed shakes his head. “How did you let it get that bad, Iz? You’re my first mate; you’re supposed to know when to ask for help! How the fuck am I supposed to trust-”

He pauses. “Never mind. Go on about your work. I’ll update yourself and the crew on the new destination shortly.”

Izzy staggers back outside, grateful for his cane, yet pondering what he might get for it. He won’t sell the ring on the knot of his scarf, but aside from that one, he’s only a couple others left.

That might not be enough for whatever a surgeon will say needs doing on his foot.

“He said yes, right?” Fang asks, coming up beside him as he makes his way onto the deck.

“He did. So long as I can afford it, and I’ll make sure I can. Worry not.”

“I think we should still be worrying a little.”

“I think Ed will tell us if we need to worry or not.”

Fang’s eyes meet his, just for a second. “I think you just called him Ed instead of Kraken, or Blackbeard.”

He’s off in Frenchie’s direction before Izzy can say a word about it.

There’s a lot of the doctor’s visit he doesn’t remember.

But, if asked, he could recall how Ed had dragged him the rest of the way to the next village over (and yes, they were older teens, but it was dark and they were tired and no amount of youth makes it easier to drag one’s dying friend to help.)

He could talk about Ed getting in the surgeon’s face and insisting that he do something, anything, within reason.

The surgery itself is a mystery. Ed tells him later about a growth pulled from him and the warning that there could be a recurrence and that the same issues with his stomach would come up again and again as one of the few signs, and, and, and a thousand more horrifying things about his body.

What he remembers best is waking up at home, covered in the same quilt he and Ed had used to drag out to the beach as younger kids. After all, stargazing was only comfortable for so long on bare sand.

Mother Teach had never let him pay back any of it. Every time he’d slipped money somewhere she might find it later, it wound up back in his or Ed’s trouser pockets after they were cleaned.

He’d still be trying to pay her back today, if they hadn’t left.

“Okay, so do that then,” he hears Ed scoff. “Fine, you need more money? I have fucking money, more fucking money than you could dream of, and-”

He raises a hand to try and stop Ed, but Jim slaps it down.

“Just lay there and shush,” they hiss. “Do you know where you are?”

He peers around. It’s a room, but that’s probably not as much detail as Jim is wanting.

So he shrugs.

“Captain,” Jim stresses the word, and there’s a mush of images in his head that follow.

Mostly being carried elsewhere, then dosed with morphine, and potentially Frenchie nearly sitting on him? Why, he can’t possibly imagine.

“You look like shit,” Ed kneels by his cot, and Izzy waits for something. An order, or a complaint, or a reminder that after this is over, he needs to get his shit together.

But Ed just switches to sitting, head leaned against the edge of the cot.

“As if we would have let anything happen to you,” Ed scoffs, and an arm wraps around his waist. “As If I would have let anything happen to you.”

“It very nearly did regardless.”

“Well, it won’t happen again,” Ed continues and pulls him close. “We have a boat, which will lead us to where we’ll eventually steal our ship-”

“Is it ours if we haven’t stolen it yet?”

“Not with that attitude, it isn’t. Anyway, we steal our ship, and then we find our fortune. If you get sick ever again, after that, it won’t even be a worry. We’ll have money to just have a surgeon around, forever.”

“Ever ready to try and keep me alive for you?”

“And for yourself,” Ed smiles. “And to spite your mum.”

“I suppose the first and last are convincing enough,” Izzy sighs happily. “You tell your mum we’re leaving tonight?”

“Not yet. Waiting until just before we go.”

“Probably for the best. It’ll hurt no matter when or how we do this, won’t it?”

“Yeah. But it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll make sure I’m worth it,” Izzy murmurs to Ed, sleeping hard, still leaned against his cot. “Every cent you have to pay for this. To keep me alive, again.”

There’s no response, but Ed’s hand flops up onto the cot, and scrabbles for a moment.

Then it clicks.

He places his hand into Ed’s, and the gloved fingers slow and curl around his.

#text post #long post #idk abt ship tagging for this one bc it's just sorta...there fdksajfdsal #like there's the implication that the ending of this isn't bad for any of them but also it ends mid-oh fuck shit scenario too fdskajflkd #basically i only want folks to look at this if they really want to lmaooo but there's no way to do that re: tags so #here we be

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horseshoegirl · 4 months

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Set Me Alight: Part 2 - Abracadabra

📜Hey, All 💛I didn't intend for there to be a gap between this part and the last, but I had to take some time away. Unfortunately and sadly, my grandmother passed away two weeks ago. She had been ill for some time, and I had been helping to support her care at her home since I last posted.

Anyway, thank you all for the support on the first part!!! I love how you all have taken to Midge! I've changed the lineup a little bit as I decided to make this its own part! It's like I said, I'm just letting my mind take me where it wants to go for this one!

❗️+18, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character, Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, flashbacks to college, strong language, insecure Midge, Alcohol, Halloween, mentioning stereotypes and pranks (scaring someone).

#3.6k Words

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3

*THAT Morning Four Years Ago*

It wasn't one of Natasha's brighter ideas. No, it was probably one of the most foolish things she could have ever come up with since deciding to come live with you. But you suppose, in the end, you understood why she wanted to do it.

Your shared apartment off campus was ideal for this type of thing. Away from prying eyes, away from campus security and the head of the dorm rooms. It belonged to your Aunt, once a warehouse now completely renovated into an industrial apartment. So Space was never an issue and you had no neighbours, hence why she wanted you to stay here as you completed your fine arts degree - every college frat boy and popular girl's dream come to life.

It was also probably one of the reasons why Nat came up with this idea, wanting to get you up and out of your studio long enough actually to meet people. If you weren't going to detach yourself from a paintbrush, from your school notes, she was going to take matters into her own hands and bring people to you.

Halloween became her perfect excuse to do just that.

When she broached the topic of throwing a party one night as you stood in front of a massive canvas, you immediately wanted to throw your painter's palette at her head. Take college and a party on a night where anyone had any excuse to dress up as who they wanted and drink whatever they wanted to spooky season-themed music and put them together?

A terrible idea. Plain and fucking simple.

It warranted trouble and unnecessary drama. Drama you wanted no part in. These things always got out of hand without meaning, too, and you knew someone would manage to hook up in either one of your bedrooms or even the bathroom before the night was over. Or passed out drunk on the floor.

She didn't protest when you said no. In fact, she left it alone for the rest of the week.

Then came the subtle bribes.

A cup of coffee in a new Halloween-themed mug was in her hands as she woke you up one morning to ensure you'd make it to class on time. When you came home from working at the campus art store, there was a new set of black and orange acrylic paints sitting on the kitchen island. She had even planned a Halloween movie night - Practical Magic and Rocky Horror and Beetlejuice - with all the fixings and morsels of candy you could eat.

She asked you again two weeks to the day. While you were slightly more willing to agree that it might be a nice idea, you were still cautious about having a party... particularly about who she would invite.

While she might have left her sorority after all that drama, Nat still had friends in that community she was close with. Friends, you were positive, talked shit about you behind your back without really knowing you. The question of why Nat would befriend someone like you was probably the main course for the dishing of gossip.

Bradley would also come, which you didn't mind whatsoever. You liked him, and he treated Nat well. But Bradley's presence would warrant an invitation to his friends - literally the entire football team. And their friends. And their girlfriends.

Your answer was the same.

"Still no."

But the bribes didn't stop there. No, they extended into multiple drives to Party City while saying the two of you could go to the big art store on the corner of Brant Street - the one you always said you wanted to go to but never had the time. It was in the Amazon orders that showed up at the door, and it was in the pack of Lime White Claws she'd bring home from the liquor store. It was the playlist full of instrumental Halloween covers, almost always on repeat as the two of you studied together.

Nat had been conditioning you to give in all along, slowly wearing you down while she prepared for the eventual, forthcoming yes.

When you finally figured it out, you were mad. Mad that she would do something behind your back like this and think she could treat you like that. But it didn't last long. Instead, you came to the realization that maybe she had been missing the social interaction that came with living with a sorority. That she had been missing her friends. She was living here now, and despite your best efforts, she still needed to know this place was hers as much as it was yours.

Maybe hosting a Halloween Party wouldn't be a bad thing after all?

The morning of the party, you had woken up early. Earlier than Nat. It was still dark out as you dragged the many boxes of supplies and decorations out into the living space. You had thrown a few pieces of rolled-up fabric over your shoulder and tossed them into the big armchair once you figured out what boxes held what decorations. The first box had the string lights the art department had loaned you, and when you opened it up, readying yourself to untangle the monstrosities, you had the surprise of your life: uncovering a realistic spider thrown into the mix.

Curse the bloody art department for playing a prank on you.

When Nat finally got up that morning, sunlight now streaming through the windows, she was welcomed to the sight of said lights having been strung along the ground, ready to be put up and hung from the wall. She had to step around carefully and through the wires, worried about stepping on a light bulb, as you had aligned them all with the wall sockets, already attempting to daisy chain the hell out of them.

"Maeve?"

"Over here!" you called out.

Nat followed your voice down the hall, only to find you standing on a ladder, plastering the stripe of LED lights into the edge of the wall and ceiling. The piles of fabric had been pooled on the top step, and she figured out you were attaching them at the same time as the lights, letting the material fall down the wall to create an interesting ambiance for tonight.

"This is..." she trailed off, looking at all the boxes and materials you'd spent your waking hours organizing. You turned on the ladder, holding on to the edges of a black piece of fabric.

"It's a lot, I know," you quickly answered her. "But you told me to go crazy with decorations, and I am an artist."

"It's not that..." she trailed off, reaching down to scoop a handful of spiders into her hand, letting them fall back into the box. "I'm just wondering if we should have started yesterday."

You placed your hands on your hips, eyeing her carefully. "We couldn't have. You had that test, and I had that art project to finish."

You may have gone overboard for a simple Halloween party. But you wanted this to be special... and you ever half-assed anything in your life if you could help it.

"We can manage, don't you think?" you tried to convince her, turning back to hook the piece of fabric in your hand into the ceiling.

Nat reached into the back hem of her sleep shorts, finding her phone plastered up against the skin of her back. "Nope, I'm going to call in the cavalry."

"The cavalry?" you questioned aloud. The second you let the black fabric fall to the ground, you realized who she was talking about.

"Oh, no way!" you shouted out, immediately stepping down from your advantage point to stop her from sending that text. Already, Nat had stood in the process of writing out said message when you hit the floor. You cursed yourself for leaving out so many tripping hazards as you raced to stop her.

"As much as Bradley would help because you asked him to, all the other guys on the team are going to scoff and laugh and not see the worth in something like this!"

Nat only laughed at your protest, hitting send and holding her phone out of your reach as you lunged for it. "You clearly don't know them like I do."

"No, I don't," you argued back, trying to swipe at her phone, hoping once you managed to get it, you could hit resend on the message before Bradley saw it. "I'm a small geek of a person that doesn't do all the popular group shit. I'm not even in their league!"

"That's not true, and you know it!"

Nat used your height to her advantage, holding her phone high above her head, well out of your reach. You even tried to jump, but Nat quickly saw what you were attempting to do. "Maeve, stop it," she chided playfully but with an undercurrent of seriousness. "You always sell yourself short. Those guys aren't the judgmental jocks you think they are. You need to meet people! Mingle!"

Giving up on the battle for her phone, you dropped your hands to your hips, cocking your eyebrow. "Really? Sell myself short?"

Nat grimaced, dropping her hand. "Sorry, poor choice of words."

You weren't mad. Not really. Cause the second you dropped your hand, you lunged, successfully grabbing her wrist only to peel her phone out of her hand.

"Maeve!"

You knew each other's passwords, so getting into her phone wasn't an issue. But it was too late. As you went to swipe for the message, there, on her screen, was a reply from Bradley.

We'll be there after lunch <3

"Shit!" You shouted out, dropping your head back on your shoulders. With your eyes closed, you held out her phone, urging her to take it back. She stood there with an amused smile on her face, crossing her arms as she took you in.

"It's not going to be that bad, Maeve."

"You don't know that," you cried out. "I don't want our place to turn into some frat house blowout."

"Frat house blowout? Really?" she laughed, taking her phone back from you.

"You know what I mean."

You finally opened your eyes hesitantly to see a soft expression across Nat's face. Her optimism was infectious, one of the many things that drew the two of you together as friends. It brought you back to that moment in time when the two of you realized that in that small corner of the library, you'd have to pull an all-nighter to get your assignment done.

It was that same face staring back at you, wide and hopeful, asking you to trust her.

"The football team isn't that bad. It's only Bradley's friends who are coming to help out. I promise they will behave and at the first sign of trouble, or the first art diss, they will have to answer to me, okay?"

You bit your lip, working the soft flesh hard between your teeth. "The first art diss, I don't care, I'm unleashing my wrath."

Nat punched the air dramatically, her eyes sparkling with excitement and sheer amusement. You shook your head, wondering if you were going to come to regret this.

"Besides," she added causally. "A lot of them are single?"

You grumbled out a string of words, stomping off as best you could with the lights in the direction of your room, willing whatever you needed to get through the rest of the day would grace you with its presence.

Nat was still laughing when you slammed the door.

—

"You got your costume ready?"

You smirked at her words, knocking her shoulder as she sat next to you on the couch. You teased out, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

All had been forgiven once you remerged from your room, realizing that maybe a little help wouldn't be such a bad thing. The feeling didn’t last long, though, your head now full of completing thoughts such as, “They are not going to like me,” and “They are going to fuck up your decorations so bad nobody is going to want to come back.”

Maybe your guests will get too drunk to notice.

Nat smiled at you, all toothy and wide. "Maeve! You spent hours at that sewing machine. And here you were, so against having a Halloween party. Come on... I know you... you're excited!"

Hiding your emerging grin, you shook your head, pinning another spider into the fake cobwebs. "It's an art cliche, according to your standards."

She pouted, handing you another handful of the tiny black things. "Just tell me, please?"

Cupping the creepy fake things into your hand, you regarded her sad expression with a shake of your head, knowing you'd have to give her a little bit of detail if you wanted to get out of this one without completely spoiling the surprise.

"It's orange and inspired by a piece of artwork. That's all I'm going to say on the matter."

Nat dramatically stopped her foot out of good fun, making you chuckle.

"You're the one who didn't want to take that bird art history course I recommended. The orange would have been a dead giveaway."

"If it's anything like the dress you helped me make for mine..."

You shushed her, handing her the cobweb so she could put it in one of the boxes next to the couch.

The two of you were trying to organize the decorations for what you wanted into boxes and spread them across the apartment to make it easier for the guys. The hallway to your bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living space, everything save for the things you wanted to tape to the ceiling and the lights, all had multiple piles.

After you finished with the cobwebs, the two of you decided to cut lengths of streamers and start taping them to the ceiling in intricate patterns. Standing on a ladder, you reached out for a couple at a time from Nat, who was handing them to you with ease. You had your earphones in as you worked, as did Nat, who routinely counted out the same lengths of black and orange streamer each time.

She suddenly tapped you on the leg, and you twisted on the step, pulling out an earphone.

"I'm going to make sure the drinks are ready for when the team arrives."

You waved her off, pushing the tiny device back in, hearing nothing but music as you stretched to pin the end of the streamer up against the junction of the wall.

You worked for a little bit more, alternating between the orange and black material, hoping it would look like what you pictured inside your head when all was said and done. That was until you felt another tap on the outside of your thigh.

Twisting on the ladder, you half expected to see Nat handing you another cutting of orange streamer. Only, you came face to face with Bradley, way too close for comfort, a shit-eating across his face. You shrieked, and the action was enough to make you lose your footing on one of the higher steps.

Unfortunately for you, you lost your grip on the side of the ladder, and you flailed out your arms in some last-ditch attempt to save yourself. Your eyes instinctively slammed themselves shut against your will, and no matter where you flung your arms out to grab onto something, your arms only cut through thin air.

It happened in a matter of seconds, and you were hopeless to do anything but fall.

Awaiting the impact of the hard floor, you stocked up, bracing yourself for the pain. Instead, you were surprised when you hit a pair of soft, strong arms, your body being cradled sideways across a massive chest.

It took you a second to realize there was an actual hand gripping your waist. And another holding your legs. The grip is tight, and whosoever arms you in, they feel secure, protective even. You even go as far as to say the chest you're pressed against is also reassuring, the sensation of firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt expanding and contracting against your body grounding.

With the knowledge you weren't going anywhere, nor were you falling to your demise, you opened your eyes up to the face of your timely saviour. But it wasn't the outline of his nose or the sharpness of his cheekbones that drew you in. It wasn't the colour of his hair or the smile stretching across his face either. It was, to a pair of eyes, the greenest shade you had ever seen.

His mouth was forming words, but you couldn't hear what he was saying over the music blasting in your ears. Panting hard, you shifted in his arms, leaning down so he'd set you back down on your feet gently. Your fingers trailed down his arms, feeling the strong muscles flexing underneath your touch as you regained your footing.

You pulled your earbuds from your ears, gasping out, "What?"

"He said I shouldn't kill one of our hosts," Bradley pipped up from behind you, fiddling with one of the remaining balls of the streamer.

There was a quip forming somewhere in the back of your mind, readying itself to be unleashed on Bradley. Something along the lines of, “You don’t say?” or the more vulgar, “What the fuck were you thinking scaring someone on a fucking ladder?” but they never came.

You were too entranced by the man currently standing in front of you, a self-assured smirk across his face.

“Thank you,” you managed to exhale instead. The man dramatically bowed, holding out his hand palm up in a grandiose gesture that reminded you of a gentleman from a period drama. Still leaning over, he lifted his head, the same smirk still plastered across his face.

“Jake Seresin,” he offered coyly. “Your saviour.”

You laughed softly, trying to stop the shake in your hand as you reached for his. “Saviour, huh? Are you in the business of saving women from falling off ladders?”

Jake's reply came with a twinkle in his eye and a soft squeeze of his hand, "Just the pretty ones."

Warmth spread across your cheeks, and embarrassment flooded your chest. You hoped the blush wasn’t too noticeable or that your pulse wasn't jumping out of your throat.

“Oh, don’t fall for his charms, Maeve. I mean, he has some redeeming qualities, but Casanova here is hardly worth a catch,” Bradley remarked with a casual smile, catching the ball of streamer he tossed up only to throw it at Jake.

Jake’s hand flew up, grabbing the flimsy material effortlessly somewhere behind you. Standing there, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach as he brought his hand between the two of you, handing it to you. You took it without bothering to look at his hand.

“Maeve,” he rolled the name off his tongue. “You don’t hear that name that often. It’s that Irish?”

You opened your mouth to reply with something about how it literally meant, ‘she who intoxicates,’ when Nat suddenly turned on a speaker, the apartment literally sounding like something out of a nightclub to remixed Halloween music. She ran towards you, and Bob, Ruben, Javy, and Mickey were on her heels. The second she was within arm's distance, she hooked her arm through yours, calling out, “Shots!”

You shot Jake a desperate look, mouthing, “Help me,” as you let Nat drag you away from him. Jake chuckled, following the pair of you to the kitchen with Bradley making a grab for the hair on the back of his head, successfully pulling him into a headlock only to mess up his hair.

Nat let you go when the pair of you reached the counter, making for the tequila first before Bradley. As the others crowded your kitchen island in search of a drink, Jake placed a gentle hand on your back, guiding you to the empty side of the counter. He seemed at ease as he carefully swiped two tiny red solo cups from under Nat's nose as she started taking orders from the rest of the group and placed them down on the counter.

Jake reached for the bottle of whiskey and held it out between the two of you. He shook the glass bottle, making the brown liquid slosh around.

"Wanna shot?"

You nodded once, watching admiringly as Jake expertly twisted the cap and poured out two shots into the tiny red cups. From behind his frame, you could see the pumpkin Nat and you had carved a few nights ago into a Jack Skellington face, silently judging you. Setting the bottle aside, he handed you one of the cups, and you fought with yourself not to fumble it.

He held his up as you let your hand remain frozen mid-air, a toast on his lips. But somebody shouted out, "Wait!" and Jake dropped his hand, turning to face them with a scowl.

"Everyone get over here!" Nat yelled out, pulling you away from Jake by your arm again before you could even utter a thanks. She made sure everyone gathered around in a circle with their chosen drink in hand before she lifted her cup up high.

"Cheers!" she shouted. Everyone mocked her shout, lifting all the tiny cups up to hers. The plastic crunched as they touched, liquid sloshing over the sides. Your laugh echoed Nat's as your hand became soaked, and on the opposite side of the circle, your eyes caught Jake's as he grinned at the sight of you.

You smiled right back, never taking your eyes off him as your lips met the tiny rim of your red solo cup.

She doesn't hate him yet!

Tag List:

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Taglist Form for those who are interested!

-Lucky/Wickett/Em

Part 3: You're so Vain - In progress

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crimson-wrld · 2 years

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Whumptober 18 - "Now smile for the camera"

Combining with prompts from nsfwhumptober set 3 - knives | branding and Alt prompt - pet

@whump-world I finally finished this caretaker whump piece I mentioned forever ago, hope you enjoy it. I may have gotten a bit carried away.

This was originally intended for Whumptober, (let’s pretend I’m not 40 days late lol) so I’m going to format it as such, as well as the next few ones I wanted to do. Also, I hope the italics make sense (just in case, they’re Whumpee's inner thoughts and some flashbacks)

CW: noncon, forced to watch (sort of), gaslighting, knives, branding, pet whump, semi conditioned whumpee, kidnapped, captivity, gagged, restraints, humiliation, emeto mention, manhandling, self-sacrifice

After dozens of unanswered calls, Whumpee thought he’d be relieved to see Caretaker’s name slide upon his screen. Instead, all he feels is a pit in his stomach. Something has been nagging at him the whole day since Caretaker left the house, tugging his insides like strings to puppets.

He answers it, not realizing it’s a video call, and nearly passes out right there when Whumper’s face fills the screen. His fingers itch to end the call immediately, but he feels paralyzed to his bones, staring into the eyes of the man who ruined his fucking life. He almost forgets that this is from Caretaker’s number.

“--Whumper?” Whumpee gasps out, eyes widening. He thinks maybe it’s a hallucination, that this is just his brain playing tricks on him and Caretaker will bring him back to reality, but Whumper’s voice breaks that hope.

“Oh my, using my name? You know a pet should always refer to its owner as Master.” Whumper tsks, his cold, icy blue eyes pierce into Whumpees skin. Whumpee grits his teeth, heart hammering against his chest.

He’s behind a screen, there’s nothing he can do to you.

“I’m not your pet, anymore,” Whumpee says, shakily, reaching into the depths of his shattered mind and struggling to bring a coherent sentence back. Somehow, he manages. He’s not even sure if he believes it himself, and his hand subconsciously moves up to check that there isn’t a collar on his neck either.

“Oh really? What if I told you to get down on your knees? Position four, Whumpee.”

He can’t even manage to take a breath of relief when he finds his neck is bare.

Whumpee is shaking, the words hurt to hear again, and his hands wander to clasp onto his knees just to make sure they don’t betray his brain’s protest. It’s ingrained into him so far he has to fight the response that his body is trained to do like second nature. He closes his eyes, and breathes in, reminding himself of Caretaker’s mantra.

I am not to be owned. I am not to be owned. I am myself and I live for me.

Whumpee swallows the lump in his throat and forces his eyes to meet Whumper’s before changing the subject. “Why...mm-- How are you calling me from Ca-caretakers number?” He asks, voice not sounding as calm and collected as he’d hoped, but he didn’t follow the command, and he comforted himself by thinking that Caretaker would be proud.

“I can see the gears turning in your head Whumpee, or, should I say, Pet? I know you remember your positions should be done immediately. You’ve become such a bad pet, but we can fix that later.” Whumper taunts, a smirk dancing across his lips at Whumpee’s distress.

Whumpee tries to fight the tears. He remembers, of course he fucking remembers. The positions and rules run through his mind every day like they belong there. They burrow and they burrow and they never allow him to dig them back out, no matter how hard he tries. His hands are gripping his knees so hard that his knuckles are turning white. He is glad Whumper can’t see them.

“A-answer my question…”

“Oh! I forgot to introduce you to our guest! Though I’m sure you guys are already well acquainted.” Whumper says deviously, reaching toward the camera and panning over slightly to reveal… Caretaker, sitting on a chair with his hands tied in front of him.

Whumper walks back into frame, behind the chair, one hand clamped on Caretaker’s shoulder, the other snaking up front, holding a knife to his throat. “Now smile for the camera, love.”

Caretaker’s hair is dishevelled and there is a length of tape over his mouth that wraps around his whole head. Whumpee quickly notices that he is only in his boxers. Caretaker looks at him fearfully and solemnly in such a way that makes Whumpee’s blood feel more rigid than it already did.

“Caretaker!?” Whumpee crumbles, fighting the urge to scream as his chest tightens and constricts. Caretaker’s lack of clothes does nothing to help calm him. The implications are not lost on him even in his panic.

“Let’s get back on topic. Since little Whumpee wants to act all tough, I figure you can help get my point across, Caretaker. You are much smarter than him, yes?” Whumper says, ignoring Whumpee’s anguish. He moves his hand to Caretaker’s jaw and grabs tightly. Caretaker grunts, and the knife at his neck glints in the light at all the movement.

“Whumper! Don’t hurt him, please.” Whumpee pleads, a tear finally slipping from his eye. He’s surprised it took him this long to cry. His limbs feel limp like putty, and it felt so much like how it did after Whumper passed pills through his lips, except this time, he can register everything-- almost too much. He can nearly feel Caretaker’s helpful advice slipping out from under his grasp already.

“I’m not in the mood to do you any favours, Whumpee. I’m not too happy with you since you decided you were too good for me.” Whumper shakes his head, “Caretaker, on the other hand, seems like a fresh canvas, if you will.”

Whumper roughly grabs him by the hair and yanks him to his feet. Caretaker lets out a groan from underneath his gag. Whumpee watches with breath caught in his throat and tears streaming down his face.

Whumper kicks away the chair, it clambers to the side and out of frame, the loud noise making Whumpee jump. Hands push down on Caretaker’s shoulders until his locked legs finally give and his knees land on the carpet below with a quiet thud.

"Has Whumpee ever shown you how good he is with his tongue, Caretaker?" Whumper asks, hand still tight in Caretaker's hair, forcing him to stare at Whumpee on the screen in front of them. On his face, Whumper wears an expression that Whumpee knows all too well, a glint in his eyes that makes him sick to his stomach.

Whumpees eyes widen, while Caretakers narrow in confusion. Embarrassment burns on the former’s skin.

Caretaker doesn’t know about any of that. Out of everything, Whumpee kept this close with lock and key. He’d never not be ashamed of the filthy things he'd done- been forced to do- by this man.

"I taught him exactly how to do it, and now seems like the perfect time for you to learn it too." Whumper smiles. He grabs a piece of the tape on one side of Caretaker’s mouth, ripping downward until it tore all the way through. He peels it back until he reaches the other side of Caretaker’s lips, repeating the same process and leaving the excess tape around his head.

"Whumpee," Caretaker breathes when the gag is gone. He looks exhausted. Whumpee wonders how long he’s been held, and what might’ve happened before this call was even made.

Whumpee lets out a sob, hands coming up to his face, "I’m sorry Caretaker, I’m so sorry-- This is all my fault!"

"It’s not-" Caretaker begins, always keeping his calm sweet demeanour with Whumpee, changing though when the grip in his hair harshly tugs his head back and up to face his aggressor.

"Get the fuck off of me." He growls, bucking backward.

Whumper scoffs, extends his foot to pivot slightly and swiftly delivers a hard punch to Caretaker's face. "We’re definitely gonna have to fix that mouth of yours," he says over Caretaker’s gasp of pain.

"What? Fuck yo-" Caretaker grunts as Whumper yanks his head up again. Whumper grabs the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down, along with his underwear, just enough for what he wants. Caretaker cant see it, but Whumpee can, and Whumpee goes rigid.

“Please, Whumper-- Please don’t,” He cries. He feels so helpless; all he can do is cry and beg, to no avail because of the sadistic monster on the other side of his screen.

Whumper laughed, “Naive little Whumpee… You never really learned, did you? Such a bad little pet. Hopefully, this one will be better."

The words go in one ear and out the other as Whumoee watches Whumper practically slam Caretaker’s face to his crotch. He shuts his eyes, releasing shaky breaths that quickly turn into retches when he hears gagging noises and struggling from the phone’s speakers. He drops the phone on the coffee table and plugs his ears with his fingers.

He just wants to hang up and pretend this isn’t happening, but it is, and even though the gross noises send shivers down his spine and memories into his head, it’s Caretaker who this is happening to- not Whumpee.

And it’s Whumpees fault.

If Whumpee hadn’t met Caretaker, started living with him-- escaped in the first place-- then this wouldn’t be happening to him right now… Whumper would have never known of him.

If Caretaker has to have this happen to him because of Whumpee, then Whumpee should have to watch.

He pries his eyes open and looks back at his phone through a blurry sheen of tears, not even seeing Caretamers face for a full five seconds before he keels over the couch and empties the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He forces himself to look back again.

This is your fault, stupid Whumpee.

"Ah, fuck-" Whumper leans his head back, pulling Caretaker’s head flush to his body, stuffing himself as far as he could go. He groans, bucking his hips forward frantically until finally, he slows, shaking as he lets out another loud moan.

By the stark change in Caretaker’s face, Whumpee could tell Whumper had finished.

The hand nestled tightly in Caretaker’s brown curls tightened more than he thought they even could, any more tugging and he have bald spots to remember this by. Whumper held Caretaker against him still, even as he struggled. When he finally let him go, Caretaker pulled away as fast as he could, coughing and sputtering.

Caretaker slides back slightly and turns, falling forward and catching himself with his bound wrists. He keeps choking, spitting out as much of Whumpers remnants as he can.

Whumper watches from above with a look of disapproval, he doesn’t try to hide the arousal underneath at the sight though.

"Shame," He mocks, kicking his boot to Caretaker’s side, raising his eyes up to meet Whumpee's, "Whumpee would’ve swallowed it all without even being told," he smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Stop." Whumpee mumbles, defeated, curling into himself. His cheeks turn red, and he avoids Caretaker’s eyes, even though he’s probably worried about different things.

Caretaker’s face is crestfallen, but the fire in his eyes stays- brightens even- seeing the humiliation on Whumpees face. He falls over when Whumper kicks him again.

"Oh but it’s the truth, isn’t it? You loved it."

Whumpee frowns, "No. I didn’t- you- you made me!" He shouts exasperated. This is all too much for his brain, it feels like it's going to burst or just shut down completely. He's starting to question the things he's saying. Maybe he did like it..? He's supposed to be a pet, he's supposed to like it. Caretaker isn't.

No, no no no. He isn't a pet. Caretaker told him that. Caretaker wouldn't have lied to him, and he doesn’t hurt him like Whumper did.

"...I d-didn't want to-- you hurt m-me if I didn’t- you brainwashed me!" He cries again, voice cracking. He remembers the beatings he used to receive for stuff like that, beaten until he couldn't stand and then fucked until he couldn't feel. It was easier to just submit, less painful to just swallow and try not to taste, less painful to listen and do what he was told.

"I don't care whether you wanted it or not. Pets don’t get that luxury," Whumper spits.

"What did you do to him, you sick fuck?" Caretaker growls out, struggling to get back on his knees. Pain and disgust course through him, mangling together into anger. He doesn’t think about what happened to him, only about what Whumper must’ve done to Whumpee.

"Oh, you want to know what I did?"

Whumpees breath catches in his throat as he watches Whumper walk closer and pans the camera so it is facing more toward the bed.

Whumpee blanks with panic at the sight.

Whumper stalks back toward Caretaker, firmly grabbing his bound wrists. He flinches at the touch.

"Let go," Caretaker mumbles, trying to yank his arms back to his chest. Whumper only tightens his hold and laughs.

"Like you can do anything about it," he smirks. Caretaker’s threats are just empty words to him. Whumper pulls him up anyways and roughly shoves his back to the bed, straddling him when he tries to kick out. Whumper wrestles him down as he shouts countless obscenities, quickly managing to force his arms above his head and secure them tightly to the bedframe with a length of rope.

The visual in it of itself is deeply disturbing to Whumpee, even if he hadn't witnessed the earlier violation, or knew the upcoming one. He didn't like seeing Caretaker so vulnerable, so easily overpowered, so… helpless. He wasn’t supposed to be like that.

"At first I tied him up, just like this, and I did whatever I wanted. If he fought or refused, he got punished." Whumper starts. Underneath him, Caretaker snarls. "Then he learned his positions, like position seven,"

Whumper pushes Caretaker’s legs apart and up so his knees are bending and his feet lay flat, "And the same process continued."

Caretaker tries to pull his arms down again to stop Whumper when he starts to pull at his boxers, the rope catches them and rubs his wrists raw. His eyes blow wide, staring at the intruding hands and he gasps, “fuck-- don’t. Please, god-- don’t,”

Whumpee feels bile rise up his throat again. He used to beg just like that in the beginning. He feels like he’s watching himself.

But when Whumper forces himself in dry, moaning out, and a strangled cry is released from the person trapped below him, it's all the more clear that he isn’t watching himself-- and it’s so much worse.

Whumper reaches into the pocket of his paints, hanging low on his waist. He pulls out a knife and flips it open; black at the hilt, Whumpers initial inscribed on the bottom. A dragon wraps itself around, red with each scale beautifully carved down to the details. The blade is silver, slightly curved with little swirls indented across the top.

This is a knife Whumpee knows well. It has melded with his flesh more times than he can remember, leaving only crimson blood in its wake. It is one with him, like an extension of his own body, and it controlled him, at Whumpers command.

"Come pet, position four."

Across the room, the pet sets down the dish it’s washing and immediately skitters toward its Master, eyes trained to the floor. It falls to its knees, a practiced, graceful motion, at his feet, turning its head to look at him obediently.

"Then I made sure he knew his place," Whumper says, leaning closer to Caretaker’s face. Caretaker flinches backward, barely noticeable, but he holds his glare to Whumper. Whumper has taken so much from Whumpee, and from him now that he can’t let the man break him; not even as he gets rocked hard into the bed frame with each thrust, leaving disgust festering in his chest.

"My pretty little pet, I think you have proved yourself ready for something special," Whumper says smoothly, reaching down to fondly run his fingers through the pet’s hair; the pet leans into his hands, like it’s supposed to, "I want you in position twelve for me."

The pet doesn’t know what’s so special about position twelve on the floor, it doesn’t question it though, and follows the command anyway. The tile feels cold on the pet’s back, but it stays still, its legs stay slightly spread, and its arms stay by its sides perfectly. The positions come naturally to it now, no limb out of place; so perfect it could be pictured for a diagram of the pose itself.

Its master straddles its waist, hands moving to rest on its bare skin, "Got any guesses?"

The pet slowly shakes its head. It doesn't know if it’s supposed to know or not, "D-do you want to feel good..?" It asks timidly.

"Of course I do," Whunper chuckles, caressing skin with one hand, reaching back to grab his favourite knife from his pocket, moving it where the pet could see, "but that’s not the special thing."

Whumper places the tip of the blade above Caretaker’s heart, barely an inch away from touching, "Made sure he knew who he belonged to, like you will."

“Don’t-” Caretaker chokes out, trying to suppress a moan he doesn’t want to let loose, flinching as Whumper moves to press in. He hates himself for this- for being broken down in front of Whumpee like this.

Whumper holds him down by his shoulder, “Don’t move too much, unless you want me to mess up, pet.”

“I’m not your- agh!” Caretaker goes to protest, cutting himself off with a yelp when the blade digs into him. He tosses his head back in pain and unwanted pleasure all at once.

The pet stares into its master’s eyes. These are the times it hates the most; when its master makes it sit in anticipation of what’s to come. It watches as the blade moves to hover its chest, right over its heart. The other hand rubs circles into its arm.

“You’ve been with me for a while now, and now that you really know how to behave, I think it’s time to make it completely official. So anyone can see when looking at you.”

The pet nods along, sucking in a deep breath and closing its eyes. When it feels the knife pierce skin it doesn’t dare make any noise, doesn’t dare cry without permission from its master, even as it feels the tug of steel through its flesh, even as it feels the blood drip down its side. It is a good pet, It does what it’s supposed to.

“This will mark that you are mine, from now till’ forever, my little pet,” Whumper coos, fully concentrating on the brand he is giving. The knife glides in precise motions.

The pet stares at the knife when it’s in view. Lets itself get lost in it, the beauty of the details. The dragon helps it ground itself. It can’t make any noise, doesn’t want this 'special gift' to turn into punishment.

Somewhere deep inside it though, the last shred of humanity cries in pain.

Whumpee doesn’t snap out of his stupor until another cut is made into clean skin, doesn’t realize he isn’t watching himself until the scarlet dribbles down unscarred flesh to pool into the towel underneath.

When he sees that it mirrors half the scar sitting upon his chest, it finally fully dawns on him what’s happening. Whumper wants to replace what he lost in Whumpee… with Caretaker.

Oh god, he’s got to stop this.

None of his pleas had worked earlier- they never ever did- but this was so much more important.

The scar burns and burns as he watches another line cut in Caretaker’s flesh. Watching hurts worse, worse than anything else. In his moment of desperation, he thinks of one thing that might work.

A thing that scares him, hurts him too, but it’s the only thing that he can come up with. His throat feels raw and rigid, but he pushes, crushing his fingernails into his legs as he works the courage to do what he’s about to do, he gets over it quickly though. He has to do this before the brand is finished.

"Stop!" He shouts, "Whumper, stop! Take me-- ill come back-- Master… please don’t do this. I’m sorry! I’m your stupid pet and I deserve to be punished, not him, please. I’m so sorry," he sputters, dropping to his knees on the floor, phone angled so Whumper can see him grovelling, eyes downcast.

"Hmm?" Whumper stops dragging the blade through Caretaker’s skin, interest sparkling in his eyes like a dog to a piece of meat, "Say that again Whumpee, and look at me, I want to see your pretty little face when you do."

"No- Whumpee don't!" Caretaker yells, but Whumper clamps a hand over his mouth tightly, silencing him through his struggles.

Whumpee follows immediately. His thoughts are not his own anymore, he’s accepted it. Caretaker is not supposed to be a pet. They should not share the same brand. Whumpee is a pet, there’s no more denial to be had… this is what he has to do.

"Master," he begins, tears spilling from his eyes as he looks from Whumper's to Caretakers worried ones and back, "I've been a bad pet, I've forgotten my place and I- I need to be punished."

Caretaker had saved Whumpee's life, helped him when he had escaped, helped him remember his worth. He’d given him a roof over his head and sweet affection; he’d made Whumpee feel safe. Whumpee could never show how much he appreciated him for it. He loved Caretaker, and he’d give up his life for him. He’d go back to everything, all the pain just to save him.

So he did.

He stared into Whumpers eyes, straight into the beast, "Please, take me back. I'll be your pet... ill be good, just… just don't hurt him. Let Caretaker go."

Caretaker struggled under Whumpers hold, tugging against the ropes anchoring him to the bed. Whumper didn’t budge though, so the protest went ignored.

Every muffled shout he made pulled at Whumpees heart more, both of them were crying. Whumper enjoyed every second of it.

Whumpee gives Caretaker a sad smile, tasting salt when his tears roll over his lips. He doesn’t take back his words when Caretaker shakes his head as much as he can, not even when he screams for him to take it back as loud as possible.

With an accomplished smile, Whumper rolls his hips one more time into Caretaker, groaning, “Lovely," Underneath him, Caretaker slumps, body shaking with sobs as Whumpee hands himself over to a monster, "That’s all I needed to hear.”

Whumpee crumbles again.

Taglist:

@mylifeisonthebookshelf

#whumptober2021 #no.18 #now smile for the camera #nsfwhump #nsft #tw noncon #nsfwhumptober #set 3 #whump #whump scenario #whump writing #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #whumpee #pretty sure im gonna continue this so #tbc

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

Can i request the twst first year noticing something on the fem crush's neck. They think its a hickey but its just a mosquito bite. I want them all together in one fic but if you cant do it then it's fine, it can be separated.

Ah, ah~ another fun prompt to see in fandoms! Lends itself for very funny situations

Which I attempted to portray here :b

Go on an enjoy!

Title: “Who was it?!”

-- -- --

P.E. classes always had students sweating their skin off; Vargas was a relentless teacher whose head could not understand his harsh training was hard to keep up with.

It was normal for students to remove the top part of their coverall sports uniform and zip off or roll up the long pant legs to allow fresh breezes to cool them off.

[Name] decided to partake on this today, it was burning and the professor was as demanding as ever to push everyone to their limit. She normally kept the top of her uniform to prevent unwanted gazes to her body.

It so happened that a group of first years was hanging out in the sports field too. “Ah, those guys are here as well. Maybe I should go say hi to them.”

Five boys were arguing about something or other, Sebek, Ace and Epel appeared very fired up at the discussion.

“Hey, guys! What are you all talking about?” They all jumped at the sound of her voice. “Boys can be so weird…”

“Ah! Eh… Nothing...important…” Ace delivered nervously.

“Uhm, sure.” She brushed it off, “Anyways, mind me joining you guys for a while?” Before they could answer, [Name] sat down along the group’s formation and began fanning herself to alleviate the heat and dry off the sweat.

The boys continued speaking with themselves, albeit a little robotically.

Being the closest to the ground where she sat to the [ x ] year, Epel was the one to notice it…

A red spot of considerable size on the girl’s beautiful neck.

Right then, the Pomefiore student got a flashback of those hentai manga he sneaked glances at in his hometown’s secluded library.

“The pact… They broke the pact!” He became enraged.

He exploded, “Which one of ya fuc-?!”

The pact… of not making a move on [Name] until she herself spoke out to any of them if she had a crush on someone, one of them, or anyone in general.

To the small 1st year’s knowledge, she had yet to speak about anything romance related.

Felmier tried to swallow down the even bigger urge to scream. “W-Which one of you… d-did it?! We had… a pact, you-! You dishonest buffoons!” It was hard to keep up the posh and proper Pomefiore student front when all he wanted was to punch their faces.

“Epel!!” The boy was cut off by Vil yelling at him from a distance. Everyone flinched at the stern callout.

Seems like the dorm head decided to have his yoga session outside. How inconvenient.

Jack was the first to speak, “What are you talking about? Do what? Why would you think someone broke the pact?”

Ace followed, “Are you delirious?!”

Sebek nodded, booming voice amping his statement. “I must agree with Trappola this time. You’re pointing fingers unjustly! How do we know it was not you who broke the pact?!”

Before Epel could defend himself, Deuce exclaimed, “Sebek’s right! Your sudden outburst is suspicious! No one knows what you’re blaming us for except you!”

“ ‘T fuck ya mean by that, city boy?! ‘Tis clear as day, a damn big red mark on her neck!” Epel snapped at the accusation, but a heavy glare at the back of his head corrected his speech, "Ahem… I-I mean… There's clearly a distasteful bruise marring the...pristine skin of her neck! The culprit better confess now!"

"Mark on her neck?" Jack questioned, coming closer to the sitting girl.

"Woah, what's going on? Whose neck? What mark? What are you guys even getting angry about? What pact?" The [dorm] student was full of doubts and ready to push away anyone that dared come too close.

With a shaky sweet smile, the lilac haired instructed, "Dear [Name], can you please turn your head to the side for a moment? Just...to check for something."

She hesitated, but complied no less. The Heartslabyul duo's surprised reactions worried her, "What? What's wrong?! Why are you acting so weird?"

"Look at the size of that! Well, clearly Epel couldn't do it, he's too small." Ace thought out loud, which gained him a ferocious death stare from the mentioned boy.

"Ace, didn't you have a study session alone with [Name]?" Deuce questioned, voice holding a threatening tone.

The other half-of-a-whole-idiot opened and closed his mouth, unable to speak. He resorted to winking and giving finger guns.

"Ya bastard! It was you all along!" Epel and Deuce accused.

Trappola protested, "Hey, I wasn't the only one having alone time with her! You also had a private lesson with her, Deuce! And Jack, I saw you hanging back with her after practice!"

"Woah! Look at it! It has small dots surrounding it!" The shortest boy of the group pointed at the strange mark on [Name]'s neck.

The human trio remained silent while Jack sighed, knowing where this would lead to.

"It's one of you two! With your sharp fangs and whatnot!" Accusing fingers were directed at them.

Sebek was the one to defend himself first, "I have not been able to meet [Name] this whole week for our scheduled reading session! Don't even dare point blame at me!"

"You guys are insufferable, why would either of us bite down on the one we fancy without going all out?" The wolf growled.

"Exactly! Howl speaks the truth! Coupling and the like are serious matters to us fae! ...and beastmen!" Zigvolt backed the claim.

They continued arguing intensely as a very weirded out [Name] watched in horror and confusion.

"Are they referring to me? What even is the thing they're talking about?" She pondered, her own hand traveled up to feel at her neck. "Itchy...very itchy…" So she did what instinct said and scratched the spot.

"What has gotten into their heads?" Grim suddenly approached the sitting one.

The [color] haired sighed, "Something or other about breaking a pact and a mark on my neck." She turned to look at the cat-monster, "Say, Grim, can you do me a favor and tell me what exactly is on my neck? I just know it itches and feels slightly hotter than the rest of my skin there."

Round azure eyes examined the spot he was told to. "Oh! It seems to be a mosquito bite!" The feline spoke loudly.

"Seriously?! You have those here too?! Uuugh, what a drag!" [Name] groaned at the news.

The yelling suddenly stopped.

"Come...again?" Sebek, for once in their whole friendship, spoke in a low voice.

Grim repeated himself, "What [Name] told me to look at in her neck, it's a mosquito bite… Maybe she got it while sleeping."

Everyone took a good look at the red bump again, letting a small "oh" after realizing their mistake.

"Ahaha… so, uh… guess it was all a misunderstanding…" Ace said, bringing an awkward silence afterwards.

"Anyways, guys," The girl stood up, "Care to explain what was all that about a pact and worrying who did this to me? What about that thing of biting down on the one you fancy?" Peeved [eye color] looked between all of them as she crossed her arms.

"N-Nothing to worry about much, [Name]! I-Its just..!" Deuce began.

"Dumb teen boy things, don't e~ven worry! Ahaha..!" Ace seconded.

Jack cleared his throat, "Something, uh… Leona wants me back at the dorm at this hour. See you around." The tan boy fled the scene.

"Y-Yeah! The Young Master must be soliciting my services! I must go. Farewell." Sebek followed.

"I-I believe Vil called for me earlier!" Epel ran as fast he could, in the complete opposite direction to where the dorm leader was exercising.

"Dumbasses, bunch of dumbasses…" The [hair color] sighed. "They all have a crush in me, don't they?"

Ace and Deuce looked at each other before laughing nervously, "Yeah, we, uh…"

"Have to feed the flamingos!"

"Indeed! Can't let them feed themselves!"

"So~... We gotta go, get changed, into the pink clothes, else they will...b-...b-..."

"Bite! Yeah, they bite and peck very hard!"

"Oh, yes! Aha… So… See ya 'round!"

"Bye for now!"

"That they do...that they do…" Grim confirmed.

[END☆]

Anyways~ hope this was a fun read! ( ＾▽＾)/

-- -- --

Epel, dear, you shouldn’t be on that section of the library...

Thank you for the request~

#March 2021 special #request pavilion #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #1st year gang #Ace Trappola #Deuce Spade #Jack Howl #Epel Felmier #Sebek Zigvolt #zack writes #fun times

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savemesomenachos · 3 years

Note

So I was thinking about Bucky not being able to 'perform' because he's been stressed and preoccupied. And reader thinks it's their fault because Bucky doesn't address the situation. They eventually get him to talk and he tells them how he's feelings and then proves it's not reader's fault. Could just be fluffy or if you want to, include smut...works either way. Thank you 😘

This request is just 🤌🏽💋✨Have fun babe!!!

Not What It Seems

AN: This has been in my drafts for forever and I’m finally back to posting, so I’m excited

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: a few lines of smut, fluff and angst

TW: Mild panic attack - hyperventilation, Self-doubt

Word Count: 1853

18+, Minors DNI

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you serious?” Natasha asks, shifting in her seat at the end of the couch. She lowers the volume of the TV to a dull murmur and turns to face me. She throws her legs up and her cold toes nudge the side of my thighs as she settles in.

“Dead serious. It was just so weird,” I say, picking at the nail I’d been nervously chewing since last night. My eyes flit between my phone on the coffee table and my fidgety hands.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” she says, twisting the lid off her beer and tossing it on the table with deft fingers and precision.

My eyes follow its path through the air wordlessly, and I sigh tiredly. I fold my legs under my thighs and extend a hand in Natasha’s direction. She hands me the beer with a comforting smile.

“Babe,” she says, placing a warm hand on my knee. “Wanna tell me the whole thing?” she asks, her eyes softening at my look of despair at narrating the ‘incident’ again.

“Fine,” I sigh handing her the beer again. “From the beginning?” I ask, side-eyeing her.

“If you want,” she says, settling back into her seat, with sympathetic eyes.

*Flashback*

“I missed you so fucking much,” I moan as I strip Bucky off his gear. He nods enthusiastically and aids me in unbuckling his very complicated buckles.

He crashes his lips to mine and I melt in his arms. His arms hold my body tightly to his as he nudges me back on the bed. I fall backward as Bucky slips my jeans off and crawls over me and his lips touch every path of skin he uncovers while taking my clothes off. His fingers tweak my nipples harshly and my back arches of the bed.

“Buck, s’too sensitive,” I whimper, trying to sit up. With a firm hand on my chest, he pushes me down again.

“I need to be inside you, now!” he whimpers, wide-eyed. His eyes glaze over for a second and I snap out of my need-filled haze.

“Hey,” I say as my hand comes in contact with his tense shoulder. “You ok?”

“Fine,” he rasps before slipping his pants off completely. “Please.”

“Are you sure? We can stop-” I’m cut off by a needy kiss pressed against my lips and a fist tightening in my hair.

He slips his pants off completely to reveal his semi-hard member. His lube coated hand wraps around his member and I see the muscles in his hands strain as he strokes his length. My hand reaches forward of its own accord to assist him but he slaps it away. He crawls over me again and settles his arms on either side of my head. His member slides in back and forth motions against my tight hole and I whimper in anticipation. Slowly, he starts to push in with a hiss.

His thrusts drive sharp and hard but slow, almost teasing. My nails rake across his back and leave angry, red marks in its wake but that doesn’t deter him in the least. He redoubles his efforts with his hands gripping my waist so hard, they bruise. My gaze drifts from where our bodies are joined together to Bucky’s face. His eyes are screwed up in concentration with his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

My body starts to convulse as an orgasm shakes me to the core but Bucky doesn’t stop. His thrusts don’t slow until suddenly, I hear him grunting in frustration. Abruptly he pulls out and kneels on the bed in between my legs with sweat dripping down his forehead and his fists clench and unclench from where they rest on his thighs. I lean up on my elbows and my eyes rake over his body to look for signs of injury.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I ask, sitting up completely, my hand reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinches before my hand makes contact and I pause, my eyes wide. His eyes find mine but they look empty. He crawls off the bed and walks into the shower without another word. I bite my lip nervously, debating whether to join him but I finally decide against it.

*End of Flashback*

“Wow,” Natasha sighs, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I know,” I say, grabbing the beer out of her hand. She doesn’t fight it, deciding I need it more than her.

“You talk to him yet?”

“He’s always at missions Tasha. He hasn’t taken a break in forever and even when he is here, it’s like he’s not y’know?” I ask, taking a big swig before setting it down on the coffee table, the condensation leaving behind a ring of water.

“I think he’s gonna break up with me,” I say after a moment of silent contemplation. “I mean what else could it be? He’s never like this. I mean he doesn’t even sleep in our room anymore and I…” I trail off, tears forming in my eyes. My breath catches in my throat and Natasha shifts closer.

She wraps an arm around my shoulder and rubs my arm with calloused hands. I throw my arms around her waist and bury my tear soaked face in my chest.

“He loves you, I’m sure there’s a reason,” she says, rubbing comforting circles on my back.

“I don’t know, I just want him back,” I sob as my hands clutch her soft t-shirt.

“I know honey, I know,” She kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. Her body rocks me back and forth as my sobs start to subside.

“Y/n?” I hear a gruff voice whisper as a tall, hunched over figure steps into view.

I raised my hands to my face and harshly rub off any remnants of sadness and when my eyes finally adjust, I see Bucky standing a few feet away from the sofa with his hands wringing together nervously as his teeth sink into his lip, his eyes tearing a hole into me.

“Hey Buck. I didn’t know you were back,” I say, flashing him what I hope is a wide, excited smile as I get up off the couch and make my way toward him.

“I’ve been back for a while,” he says, his eyes flitting to Natasha’s for a second. What he sees there upsets him and his hand wraps around my wrist immediately. He starts to lead me away as I sputter protests and turn to look at Natasha for help. She shrugs in response and turns back to her beer.

Bucky takes us all the way to our shared room where he hasn’t slept in the past weeks and locks the door behind us. He drops my hand and paces the length of the room with his hands clutching his hair in a white-knuckled grasp.

“Bucky, is everything-”

“How could you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, turning to face me, his hands coming up to tightly grasp my shoulders.

“Y-You heard that?” I whisper, my gaze dropping to the floor.

“Super-soldier hearing. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard you say that you thought I was gonna break up with you so I stopped to listen,” he says, his hand squeezing my shoulders.

“I-I didn’t know what to think. You’ve been so distant the past few weeks so I thought…” I trailed off, hoping he would understand.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me to sit on the bed next to him. His head leans forward to rest on my shoulder while his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me closer.

“Honey,” he says, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “I’m not gonna break up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so weird?” I ask, turning to face him, forcing him to look me in the eye.

“I fucked up on that mission,” he whispers, his gaze sullen, on the floor. “It was HYDRA and there were so many people. So many children. I couldn’t get them out. I couldn’t save them.”

Tears slide down his cheeks and pool on his lips. Before he could wipe them away, my fingers graze his cheek as I turn him to face me. I wipe away the tracks of tears and he leans forward to bury his face in my shoulder while wrapping his arms around my back.

“It’s ok baby. Let it out,” I say, rubbing circles on his back as his sobs intensify and soak my neck and shoulder. “You can’t save everyone Bucky. The important part is that you did your best.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” he shouts as his hands rake down my back and clench my t-shirt in between his fingers.

“I know it feels like that but you’re doing enough Bucky. You’ve been on missions non-stop, without any breaks and it’s enough,” I say, my hand drifting up to card through his hair as his sobs turn to sniffles and his breath comes out faster.

“It’s not enough, it’s not,” he begins to mumble under his breath as he begins to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey,” I say, dragging his attention to me by guiding his face to mine. “You’re enough, you hear me? I love you and you’re enough. Your friends love you and you’re enough. That will never change. I promise you,” I say, my eyes blazing. My hands grip either of his cheeks and I see the sadness and self-doubt swirling in his eyes.

“I love you Bucky. So fucking much,” I continue, his breathing starting to even out.

“Really?” he asks, sniffling, his hands coming to grip my waist.

“Yes, I do,” I say, my voice unwavering.

“I-I love you too,” he says, his eyes and nose red from all the crying. “I know I don’t say it often but I do.”

“I know honey. I know,” I say, drawing him for another hug. I whisper sweet nothings in his ear and rock us back and forth with Bucky desperately clutching at my t-shirt and his head nuzzled in my chest.

After a while, he pulls away with a small smile on his face and I take comfort in the face that he feels better.

“Better?” I ask, cradling his wet cheek in my palm.

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning forward and planting a sweet kiss on my lips. Suddenly, his arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer and his lips press more firmly into mine. I squeak in surprise but moan at the relief of finally feeling him so close after a while. He pulls away leaving us both panting for air and rests his forehead against mine.

“What was that for?” I ask with a breathy chuckle.

“It was a ‘I love you’,” he whispers, smiling at the blush that covers my cheeks.

“You’re such a cheeseball when you want to be,” I say, bringing my hands up to hide my red face.

“You love it,” he says, cheekily.

“Yeah,” I whisper, placing a kiss on the tip of his scrunched up nose. “I do.”

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tommysparker · 3 years

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Never Forget You [Chapter 1]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

A/N: here’s the first official chapter! thank you so much for the support this series as already gotten. chapters will be posted every Saturday! enjoy :)

Warnings: angst. fluffy flashbacks. this isn’t even the worst of it mwhaha. paragraphed italics = flashback

[10 YEARS LATER]

The sky was as blue as his eyes. Not as dark and cloudy, but gave the same feeling of hope, peacefulness, and comfort. You could picture them vividly in your mind, even the small crinkle at the edges and the kindness they held, a warmness that matched your current aurora.

The two of you sat in the gardens for what felt like hours, deep in meditation. Your force signatures quickly became entangled with one another, your bond radiating around you, creating almost a shield bubble between the rest of the world and the two who sat inside.

Obi-Wan was the first to open his eyes, having never been one to sit still for long periods of time. He’s improved since he was a youngling, but still had a long way to go.

You, on the other hand, looked completely invested in your meditation. Your face was relaxed, although every now and then your eyebrows would furrow as you tried to maintain concentration. It was hard when a certain other was very distracting, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“I can feel you staring,” you said, eyes still closed. Obi-Wan was thankful for that fact because it means you wouldn’t see him blush in embarrassment from getting caught.

“I can feel you blushing, too.” This time, you opened your eyes and smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t last long.” Anytime the two of you tried to meditate together, it would always end with Obi-Wan getting bored and asking to duel instead.

He quickly hid his face, pulling the hood of his robe over his head. “I’m not blushing, that’s childish.”

You giggled, leaning forward to lift the front of his hood. “Obi-Wan, you are the most childish person I know.”

The young man was about to protest before you hushed, eyes already closed once more as you returned to your deep state of awareness.

You opened your eyes and sighed, long and deep.

Standing up from the cold floor of your room, you looked out the window and gazed at the cloudy sky of Gyfill. The air felt chilly from the lack of life-forms in the area. After your first week on the planet, you decided it was a safer idea to seek shelter away from town. Considering your mission was to spy on the local Separatist groups, keeping a low profile was essential.

Today was different, however. The same cold and dull atmosphere were present, but the future is what held the divergent. For today, was the day you were finally to return home.

Home. The word itself felt familiar but distant. As a Jedi, you trained to hold little sentimental value. Attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side. They provoked fear. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.

Once your bag of belongings was packed, you made your way to the marked location someone from the Jedi council sent earlier that morning. Mentally, you were not prepared to see everyone again. After being isolated for years and having limited contact with any life form outside of business, the many faces from your time at the Temple became slightly blurry. Except for his.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was on his way to the Archives when he bumped into Ahsoka Tano.

“Oh, Master Kenobi! Perfect, I was about to go look for you.”

“Ahsoka,” he smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“Who’s Y/n Y/l/n?”

Obi-Wan froze. The sound of that name echoed in his mind, paired with memories that he had locked away in the back of his mind. “Well...that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” was all he could manage to say, still trying to process all the past recollections that suddenly surfaced.

“So, you know them?”

“Uh, yes I suppose so. We were...close as younglings and trained together as Padawans. They were...the most skilled Jedi I ever had the pleasure of knowing, almost as good as Master Yoda.”

“If they’re so great, how come I never heard of them before?” Ahsoka tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip in classic ‘Ashoka manner’,

“They were sent away on an important mission years ago as far as I know. Er, why do you ask? And how did you come to know of that name?”

“Oh right. Anakin said the Chancellor told him that Master Y/l/n was returning today. He told me to ask you about it.”

Once again, Obi-Wan’s world paused.

He stood across from you, trying to maintain a neutral expression as he watched you load your bags onto the ship. However, you knew him better than that.

You walked up to the young boy and he took in your appearance. Gone was the braid that draped over your shoulder. Gone were the long robes you liked to hide in, in their place was a heavy jacket that looked like it was built to keep out the cold. Perhaps you were going to Hoth?

“Obi, you know I can’t tell you where I’m going. Master Windu was strict about his instructions,” You sighed, sensing your friend trying to deduce as much as he could. Your Master was very clear when he told you how classified the mission was. No one can know, especially Obi-Wan.

“Can you at least say how long you’ll be gone?” He practically begged, wanting something, anything he could get to keep his hope alive. Hope that you'll return soon. Hope that you weren’t truly leaving him.

You looked away, staring at the towers and passing hover-vehicles that littered the planet you’ve grown up on. “I don’t know.”

Everything had happened so suddenly. You were called into the council room that day to hear the news every Padawan dreams of. When Master Windu said you were ready for the trials, the first thing you went to do was tell Obi-Wan. The two of you celebrated that night in the gardens, a moment you would treasure for the rest of your life. Soon after you gained the title of Jedi Knight, you were once again called into the Jedi Council room to be debriefed on your first mission as a proper Jedi. You didn’t want to mess this up. You couldn’t.

Obi-Wan resists the urge to pull you into a hug and never let you go, instead opting to hold your shoulders and give you his signature charming smile. “Be safe, darling.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You held his wrist, bringing his knuckles to your lips and pressed a hesitant kiss to them before pushing them to his side. “May the force be with you.”

There was no pet name at the end, no ‘my friend’ or even his own name. It was a sentence that was meant to bring comfort, but the way you phrased it, the edge in your voice, made Obi-Wan feel everything but comforted.

He didn’t get the luxury of responding, for all he did was blink and suddenly you were on the ship, taking off into the clear blue sky.

You gazed at the clouds passing by as the ship flew into Coruscant’s atmosphere. The bright light and sunny day was a harsh change from the grey sky that fell over Gyfill. The energy emitting off of all the life-forms gave you a headache. You felt the Force all around you, swirling in the air and penetrating your soul. It was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for over a decade.

You flinched at the light as the door opened, suddenly feeling like a hermit crawling out of its shell. Slowly walking out of the ship, you pulled the cloak hood over your head, inhaling the strange but familiar scent of the Jedi Temple. You were still wearing your Gyfill civilian attire, the wool fabric made the Coruscant heat much more intense causing a few beads of sweat to form on your forehead. Or was it just the nerves of seeing all the people you left behind?

Master Windu stood at the end of the drop door, a smile on his face at the sight of his former Padawan. It was an occasion that called for a little joy, a moment to celebrate outside the war that raged through the galaxy.

You descended down the ramp, taking in a sharp breath at the feeling of another force sensitive. “Master Windu”. You bowed your head and he did the same to you.

“Master Y/l/n, it’s great to see you in person rather than as a hologram.”

You both chuckled lightly. “The feeling is mutual, Master. It’s...it’s good to be back.” Your eyes wandered over the people that roamed about. Jedi Masters walked with their Padawans at their side. Distant memories resonated within you. Some time ago that was once you and your Master, the man who stands before you know who has grown significantly older. Then again, so have I, you thought to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t the only one registering your growth. Obi-Wan stood behind a pillar, glancing over the hanger in search of a familiar face. He was aware it would not be the same face he knew as a young boy, but he certainly was not prepared for what he saw.

You look older, which was the obvious and expected observation. He noted how you wrapped yourself in your cloak, similar to how you would in your youth. You stood tall in front of Master Windu, another trait you had kept since your days as a Padawan. He remembered how you would always act mature in the presence of Masters, something he never really understood until becoming a Jedi Knight. The need for approval by the superiors was a constant.

It wasn’t just your appearance that had changed either. He could feel it in the Force. There was a shift in it when you had landed that made an excited yet nervous chill run down his spine. You were stronger and held more control in your signature.

Before, he remembers being able to feel it from across the Temple. Now, it was barely there. He remembers feeling your bond drift farther as he watched you leave, and how it had dimmed over the years you were gone. He remembers the pain that tortured him every night as he laid awake in bed, trying to reach out across the stars but only being met with the vast emptiness of space. There was something in him that broke the first time he slept without having a tendril of your force signature connected with his. He felt cold, resorting to sleeping in his Master’s quarters in an attempt to ease the loneliness.

Overall, it would appear that nothing about you had changed, and yet it seemed everything was different. Almost everything.

His eyes were just as blue as the last time you saw them. They looked tired, haunted by the ongoing war but still filled with determination. Classic Obi-Wan.

You quickly broke eye contact the moment it was made, but that one second was more than enough for Obi-Wan to get lost in the familiar colour. His favourite colour in fact, not that he would ever admit you had any part in the decision.

“Master Obi-Wan?”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and suddenly became aware of the presence right next to him, that presence belonging to none other than Master Yoda.

“Master Yoda! I er I was just...uh...looking...for Anakin! Yes, uh have you seen him around by any chance?” Obi-Wan quickly tried to cover his stutter, feeling embarrassed about getting caught gazing from afar. Not that Master Yoda would know he was looking at you...right?

“I see,” the little green creature smirked in amusement. “Whatever it is, wait it can. Council meeting about to begin there is.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his eyes. Typically he was able to keep a good track of the meetings, but this was news to him. “What’s it about?”

“Master Y/l/n.”

“Hmm?” You hummed absentmindedly.

“Are you listening?” Master Windu raised an eyebrow.

“Oh uh, my apologies Master. I’m just...readjusting.” You tried to focus your attention on what Master Windu was saying, but the recognition of his presence made it difficult. For years, you tried to forget about him. You ignored the empty feeling in your stomach at night, the thoughts and memories that plagued your dreams. After some time, they eventually began to fade but never forgotten. It was for the best.

Master Windu crossed his arms. “There will be plenty of time for that after your debrief of the mission. Master Yoda and the rest of the council await.”

Oh, Force, not the council.

You would never dare to admit or even show it, but the council and being in the council room had always intimidated you. How could it not? You had to stand in the center of all the best Jedi of that era while they stare at you, judging you, sitting high and mighty in those stupid chairs.

“This way, my old Padawan.”

You followed Master Windu through the large halls of the Jedi Temple. You masked the nervousness that was no doubt radiating from your force signature. A multitude of thoughts ran through your mind, good and bad. Worst case scenario, you had done something so wrong that you were about to be kicked out of the Jedi Order. Nothing came to mind when you tried to think of any offence you had committed in the recent weeks since you earned the title of Jedi Knight.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the large council room doors opening, the creaking of the hinges made you cringe slightly.

The room was ominously lit, the only light source being the setting sun shining through the glass windowed walls. Master Yoda sat in his seat. All the other chairs were empty.

Master Windu took his seat as you stood before the two of them. He could see the questions rise from your confused facial expression. “Everything we discuss in this room stays between us, young Jedi.”

You nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. “Master Windu, Master Yoda. What is this about? Have I done something wrong?”

The two men looked at each other and shared an unreadable expression before turning back to you. Master Yoda was the first to speak. “Sending you on a mission we are. To Gyfill you will go.”

Whatever anxieties that you held before were washed away with this information. You contain your excitement, but the sudden mood shift was still noticeable. “Who am I going with? When do we leave? What’s the mission for?” It was rare that a Jedi would be sent on a mission alone, typically you were partnered up for safety measures. Obi-Wan’s face flashed in your mind, and although it was unlikely, a small part of you hoped he would be going with you.

“This mission only requires one Jedi. There’s a Separaist organization on the planet and we’re sending you to gain intel and report back to us. No one outside of this room can be aware of this information. You leave within the week. Understood?”

You frowned, “Forgive me Master, but why can’t anyone know?” The idea of having to leave your home seemingly without a trace made you iffy. Obi-Wan once again appeared in your mind.

Master Windu and Yoda exchanged a look before Windu responded almost hesitantly. “We have reason to believe someone in the Order is a traitor, and the number of people who are trustworthy is very limited.”

“You mean someone has betrayed us?” You asked in shock. How could anyone do such a thing? And a Jedi nonetheless.

“Time to answer your questions, there will be, young one. Prepare for your first mission now, you must.” Master Yoda said. “Prepare to say goodbye you should.”

It was as IF he could read your mind, which he probably could. You dreaded the idea of saying goodbye, especially when it was clear that there was no guarantee of your return date. How would you explain to your friends that you won’t be around anymore? What will Obi-Wan think?

“That is another subject that needs to be discussed.”

————————————————————————————

what else needs to be discussed? who’s the traitor? how will obi-wan and y/n get on after all this time? lemme know what you think!!

taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @dwarfplanet69 @katsukink @blondekel77 @generousrunawaydonut @fandomtrashwhore @fortheloveofaqueenfan @mrskenobi19 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @hotleaf-juice

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ordinaryschmuck · 2 years

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drabble request: Amity apologizes to King for the crushed cupcake?

An Overdue Apology

King scowled.

Because what else was he supposed to do?

He and his boo-boo buddy were watching a movie on the couch, enjoying each other's company. And that's when that tyrant decided to surprise Luz with a visit.

Now, Luz sat in her--Ugh!--girlfriend's lap, cuddling close, all but ignoring the movie at this point. And how one can find another person's face more engaging than a giant monster destroying a town beneath its toes is beyond King.

"Luz!" Eda called from the kitchen, "Can you stop making goo-goo eyes with your girlfriend and get in here? I need your help."

"Ok, Eda!" Luz called back before giving Amity a kiss.

It took all of King's willpower not to vomit.

"I'll be right back, my little Snickerdoodle," Luz said.

"I'll be right here, Love Muffin," Amity responded.

The urge to vomit became stronger in King's stomach.

With that, Luz got up and headed for the kitchen. Leaving King and the tyrant. Alone. In the most awkward of silences, aside from the movie still playing.

"So, uh," Amity drummed her fingers on her knees, "How's that thing...with finding your dad?"

"Rotten."

"Ah. Ok."

Silence returned.

"...Are you...still interested in being a tyrant? Or, is was that just a phase?"

"Sure."

"Sure what?"

But King didn't respond.

"...Are you mad at me or something?"

"Yes, I'm mad!" King exclaimed, standing on the couch and pointing an accusatory paw at a confused Amity.

"...Why?"

"You should know!"

"Uh, is it because of me spending more time with Luz?"

"What, no! I've already learned that Luz wants to spend time with other people. That's fine."

"Ok. Is it because I nearly got Luz dissected. Because I apologized profusely about that. Especially to Luz."

"It's not that either!"

"Then why are you mad at me?"

"Because YOU are a dream-crushing tyrant!"

Amity blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"I had a dream once," King stated, looking out in the distance like a weary soldier haunted by their memories. "A dream that would give me joy, pleasure, and a full tum-tum. It was a cupcake, bigger than the palm of my paw, with poisonberry filling, sprinkles, and a cherry on top of its delectable frosting. And, just as I was about to eat it, I tripped. It fell to the ground. It was a little dirty, but it still looked good. And then. You. Smashed it!"

King then ended his flashback to glare back at Amity.

"It was the one thing that could bring me happiness, and you squashed it under the heel of your foot, much like the cold-blooded tyrant that you really are!"

"...Let me get this straight," Amity furrowed her brows, "The reason why you're mad at me is that I squashed a cupcake. Something that happened months ago and is so minor, I completely forgot about it."

"If you're trying to get me to stop being mad at you, you're doing a poor job at it!"

Amity sighs.

"You're right," she said with sincerity, "Even if it wasn't really anything major, it still wasn't cool of me to squash your cupcake like that. It was completely uncalled for, and for that, I'm sorry, King. Honestly and truthfully."

King gave Amity a long, hard look.

"...Ok!" he said with glee.

"Wait, really?" Amity tilted her head in confusion, "Just like that?"

"Yeah. All I wanted was an apology. Squashing the cupcake was easy, but saying sorry is even easier, and it bothered me that you never said it. Not even once."

Amity opened her mouth to protest, only to come up empty.

"That...that actually makes a lot of sense."

"Yup. But we're cool now, so it's no big deal. Anymore at least."

"Oh...good."

"Yup, good."

At that point, Luz came back in, sitting right back onto Amity's lap.

"Sorry about that," she said, "Eda had trouble with the cooking again. Did I miss anything, Peach?"

"You missed nothing, Daisy," Amity smiled, pulling her girlfriend in for a kiss.

King gagged.

"I still hate that, though.

#the owl house #king clawthorne #luz noceda #the owl house fanart #lumity #the hiatus of drabbles

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goldlightsaber · 3 years

Text

A Quiet Place Part II

Wow, I just came back from the movie theatre, and I am so pleased that this movie was everything I wanted it to be. So here it goes, another movie analysis/review.

Dare I say iconique?

There was a lot hinging A Quiet Place Part II. It is one of the first movies “back in theaters.” There was a lot of anticipation because the movie got delayed for over a year. But I don’t think it could’ve come out at a more perfect time. One of the things I noticed about the world of A Quiet Place was that, in thematic ways, it reflects our own. In the height of the pandemic, everyone in our world was scared, worried about supplies running low, losing loved ones, and grieving a life they once had. Like in the movie, we were all forced to lay low by staying inside. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings, but I found it to be highly relatable and touching in that way (without being tragic but rather uplifting instead).

Onto the actual contents, though. The opening scene was *chef’s kiss.* You feel tension right away because of how eerily quiet the town is mid-day, a foreshadowing of what’s to come. Except everything is too neat, the cars too perfectly parked, no windows broken -- we know it is the calm before the storm. I love the patient shot of the stoplight changing lights. We are waiting for disaster to strike but just don’t know when it will.

The baseball scene subverted a few of my expectations -- I thought Emmett would be a stranger to the family so I was surprised he turned out to be a friendly family acquaintance. This worked well because it probably made Emmett feel some obligation in helping Evelyn and her family later. I also expected Marcus to hit the ball eventually because of the two initial misses -- but then the fireball passes through the sky and life as they know it is over.

Some part of me expected the flashback scene to be superfluous and just an opportunity to show John Krasinski again, but it served its purpose -- when characters refer to “that day,” we feel the gravity of it because of what we saw in the opening segment.

I didn’t expect the monster when it first appeared. You expect Lee to have a conversation with the cop, for the monster to show up soon but not just yet -- and then Lee, almost dissociating, is rushing back to his truck after what was no doubt the most traumatic sight of his life at that point. He starts the car with the it’s-going-to-be-all-right facade a parent must don for their child.

There were several other excellent “oh-shit” moments in this movie. One of my favorites was, after Evelyn sets off the booby trap that attracts the monster (an excellent oh-shit moment in and of itself but already revealed in the trailer), Marcus gets his foot caught in a bear trap. When he screams, it’s like watching a glass you knocked over to the floor crash into a million pieces. My brain was just one big shout of “OH SHIT” and nothing else. Emily Blunt’s acting was superb here and throughout -- the way she played desperation and a simultaneous love for her child was palpable.

Cillian Murphy is an excellent addition to the cast. I was particularly mesmerized by his acting in all the breathy dialogue scenes where he’s protesting against either Evelyn or Regan. Emmett felt believable in all his sweaty, scruffy glory. He keeps insisting he doesn’t want to help, but, very wholesomely, he always does. He’s a sucker for them from the start. And whether he and Regan like it or not, he is slowly becoming the protective father figure in her life. He can’t get in the way of her plans and her genius, and he can never replace Lee, but the love is there. I love their arc.

And speaking of Regan...

Wow, did the kids in this movie shine. Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupp absolutely exceeded my expectations. Boy, could Jupp scream and look scared for his life. He was completely believable in his role. And Simmonds walks with this quiet strength, this gentleness. I loved what they did with the scenes where Regan and Emmett were struggling to communicate and she had to keep bringing him back down to Earth. I love the way this movie changes the game for what communication looks like -- there is rarely yelling or even regular-volume conversation. Instead there is sign language, exhales, whispers, the mouthing of words. This creates a mesmerizing atmosphere for the movie. These silences and moments of white-noise do not mean the absence of humans speaking to each other.

I’m not sure how I feel about the shady, red-eyed community of people on the docks. They looked like they were all on drugs and walked like zombies. And the creepy little girl who trapped Emmett just felt like she belonged to another genre of horror? This isn’t a “creepy children” horror movie, it’s an eldritch monster horror movie! It wasn’t the most believable plot point but I wasn’t super opposed to it, either. I wanted to know more about these shady people. I fully expected them to take Emmett and Regan back to their leader or tribal base, but nope, they were just shady people (the kind not worth saving).

This isn’t a criticism per say but I was definitely expecting more scenes between Emmett and the entire Abbott family, so I was a little sad they split them up and we didn’t get a reunion. This is a possible tease for a third movie -- as is the expanding world of the island and the lack of a total end to the apocalypse. And, of course, there are hints that Evelyn and Emmett might have a future together -- Evelyn symbolically takes off her wedding ring and Emmett reluctantly but naturally fills the father role for the children. At the same time, we leave off at a point where we can imagine what happens next and don’t need to know more -- it can be up to our interpretation. They can end the movie there, since it is clear that the children have figured out how to defeat the monsters.

And speaking of that, the ending had a very Stranger Things feel to it. Never mind that the monsters from each respective series look almost identical -- the ending takes a surprise turn when it is the two Abbott children who take things into their own hands and kill the monsters while their parental figures literally sit back and watch in awe. I appreciated the message here: that young people are innovative, strong and brave enough to do the right thing. They are capable of great things; it’s all right to trust them and let them take the reins.

I think the movie’s atmosphere is just lovely. Just because it’s horror doesn’t mean there can’t be scenic shots of a sunset on the beach. That’s what I like about both movies so much -- they don’t feel like most horror movies because they still leave room for beauty and tenderness and hope.

Overall, a very enjoyable film. I would love to see the family reunion if there is a sequel -- and that the potential sequel is helmed by the right writers/director once again! Go, John Krasinski! He killed it.

#a quiet place #a quiet place part ii #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place ii #john krasinski #emily blunt #cillian murphy #film #horror #noah jupp #millicent simmonds #*heart eyes*#also i nearly CRIED being back in the movie theatre #it was SO BEAUTIFUL i got into a really fancy once where they drew back golden curtains i literally could NOT be happier #ugh what an experience #thank you God for movies

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years

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sorry seems to be the hardest word - h.o

Word count: 3171

Warning: angst, swear

Pairing : harrison osterfield

Request: no.

N/A: It took me so long to write this. I remember i asked @soft-haz to write something with the "sorry seems to be the hardest word" vibe, it was so good! But i wanted to write something by myself too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really try my best. Italics parts are flashbacks

Thanks to @petersasteria because she correct a big part of this fic! Love you. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

ღღღ

part 2 (harry hollad x reader) - part 3 (harry holland x reader)

The few rays of sunshine in London today and England's victory over the Croats had improved your mood. Tom and Harry were home as soon as the game was over, they found you sitting on the couch with a glass of wine. You hadn't wanted to join them at the bar for obvious reasons: to keep your privacy as much as possible. Living with four boys was not easy, but living with four boys, one of whom was a world-famous actor and another in the midst of the media boom, was even more so. Of course, fans knew that Tom, Harrison, Harry, and Tuwaine had a female roommate. But you've always managed to never appear with your face uncovered in any media activity of your four-favorite divs.

The bottle was already nearly empty and you were already on your drunken streak, not wanting to stop when two of your drinking buddies had just entered. What a good opportunity to continue the evening.

"Will you join me, boys?"

“Mmm yeah, sure, love.” Harry said.

But a problem presented itself to you: the boys drank beer, you drank wine. You had two options now: either open a new bottle of wine for yourself or continue the evening with beer. Your eyes turned to your glass, spilling the rest of the bottle into your jug before swallowing it dry. Harry had a stunned expression on his face as Tom smirked.

"I see hanging out with us leaves its mark."

"You wish, Holland. I knew how to do it before I even knew you existed."

"You've known me since I was 19."

"And you think I waited for you to learn how to drink?"

"Fair enough."

You met the boys in a pub. You’ll never tell Nikki that, when you met them, her precious twins drank too many beers even if they weren’t old enough to drink (technically, they weren’t criminals, drinking beer at 16 is legal and come on, it’s England!)

❀❀❀

So, you met the boys in a pub. It was one of the nights when your friends and you wanted to drink until you're blackout drunk. You were in that pub/club, looking up after one of your friends. She had detected some pretty boys in the back and left you there, alone. You moved around the room without paying attention: glass in hand, your phone you stared at in the other. You suddenly felt an arm blocking your chest with force. The surprise had made you drop your glass.

“What the heck?!?”

“You will not pass, miss.”

“Oh yeah? Why? Is the pope there?” You said sarcastically

The man who stood in your way raised an eyebrow and you looked at him, waiting for a response.

“You are very funny. It’s a VIP space.”

“Once again, why is that?”

“None of your business.”

“Actually, I don't care if Sir Elton John is in that bar or if it's even the Queen of England. I'm just looking for my friend: tall, blonde, balloon-sized fucking boobs, red dress."

“Not seen."

You sighed. The situation annoyed you to the highest point. You had lost your friend and that big asshole had broken your glass. The man in front of you seemed to be marble. Short answer, arms crossed, and an imposing posture. All you wanted tonight was just to have fun. You didn't care that God-knows-who, any famous or rich enough to book a VIP space, was in that bar.

"Would the asshole that hired you tonight, at least be kind enough to buy me the glass you broke with your bullshit?"

From his side, Harry had noticed the altercation. He then walked towards you, he laughed when he heard you insult his brother through the bouncer's fault. And as the Colossus' bodyguard was about to tell you that you could always dream of getting that free drink, Harry spoke up.

“The asshole, maybe not directly. But the asshole's brother. Certainly. It will be on his check anyway.”

“For God's sake, what are you waiting for then?”

And just like that, you met the boys. Harry paid you for the glass that the other jerk broke, invited you to this precious VIP space and you could talk and dance the night away. You had exchanged your social media and over time, your phone numbers. And as fast as you couldn't imagine, you had found yourself stuck in an apartment with four adorable idiots as roommates.

❀❀❀

"Hey, y/n, where are the others?" Harry asked.

You grumbled and grabbed the beer the curly had just opened. He protested as you took a sip. Tom gave you a curious look and you frowned behind your bottle.

"y/n?”

"I don't know where T is, but Harrison's gone on a date with Gracie."

The two brothers exchanged a look heard in the face of the bitterness they had perceived in your voice. It was no longer much of a secret that you had feelings for Harrison. You had feelings for Tom's best friend for almost as long as you'd met him. Harry had noticed it first, because you were much closer to him than to Tom. The actor had understood at the start of an evening, at the beginning of the relationship between Harrison and his girlfriend.

However, you didn't hate Gracie. She was beautiful, kind, and very funny. She really brought out the best in Harrison, she made him happy and you could see that because of the distinct smile on his face. You didn't hate her; she just wasn't you and you just weren't her. And that was the whole problem. Jealousy consumed you and you hated yourself for it.

“Are you alright, darling?” Tom asked you since silence filled the room after your last sentence.

"I'll be fine after one more drink" you simply answered.

You took a sip of the beer you stole from Harry. Drowning in alcohol was certainly not the solution. But you just wanted to forget the blond a bit for tonight. Tom's worried look made you roll your eyes.

"Oh come on, Tom. Don't give me those eyes. I will be fine ..."

“Yeah, sure.” he said with a doubt.

"Can we just watch a silly movie or play a silly game to make my night better?"

Harry seemed to hear you as he shrugged and took a sip of his drink. He knew you by heart. At this point, he really considered you his best friend. So he knew you needed something to clear your mind. Something where your mind should be quick to think about.

“One,” he said nonchalantly.

"Two" you responded with a huge smile on your face.

"You are both stupid." the Holland elder complained about the game you had just started.

"You say that because you're a lousy actor who can't remember his lines. Play Holland!"

"Three". He capitulated.

And you continued like this until 21. Then, there followed a multitude of rule additions each time you reach the number 21. The 7 turned into "I'm a poor liar", the 18 into "I'd rather kiss a guinea pig" ... And every time one of you made a mistake, he drank. After an hour, the game looked like a strange conversation from the outside.

"Squirrels are scary, man." Harry said, mimicking his older brother.

"Black Widow is the best president of the United States" Tom said

"But she’s a bad lay." you responded, with a fake sigh of disappointment

"I'd rather kiss a guinea pig"

"Because you have no taste"

"Twenty"

It was at this precise moment, in the middle of the conversation, that Harrison decided to enter the living room. His blissful smile gave way to an air of amazement and disbelief at the talk between his three roommates. It was Tom who first noticed his best friend. He nodded to greet him. Harrison wore a simple black t-shirt with chinos. You took a look at your roommate and your cheeks flushed a little more than they already were.

"Hello mate! How was your date?" asked Tom with a big smile on his face

"Awesome. Can't believe it will be a year in 3 freaking days." Harrison said.

You could see his large smile, and blissful air. He was sweating happiness and although you were happy for him, it tore your heart. You purse your lips to avoid comment. Harry spoke up.

"We're playing 21. Do you want to land with us?"

"In fact, you can take my place." You got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen to drop off your beer drain. Harrison frowned as Tom exchanged a new look with his brother.

"y/n, you can stay, It's an unlimited players game." Harry almost begged.

"No, I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed."

“y/n” Harrison tried to call you to hold you back a little longer.

But you were already gone. You've never climbed the stairs so fast to run away from your roommate/best friend. Harrison looked at Tom and Harry, worried about your behavior. The curly one just shrugged his shoulders as his brother shook his head, silent. They weren't intending to get involved in this. You were the only master of your feelings and the time you'll decide to confess them to Harrison. That is why they preferred to be quiet.

☙♡❧

You spent the whole next week to avoid Harrison as much as possible. Established more distance with him was your solution to protect yourself from your feelings especially after his one-year anniversary date with Gracie and his absolute cute instagram post. It broke you down. Your heart was in peace but you couldn't blame him or his girlfriend. You were in love with the wrong guy, that's all.

But you couldn't hide from him forever. After all, you both lived in the same house, you had the same friends. So, it was hard to pretend he didn't exist.

Today was not your lucky day. You bumped into him in the kitchen. That was his opportunity to hold you down. He grabbed you by the shoulders, preventing you from burying yourself. Now he would finally find out what was wrong with you. Because Harrison wasn't a fool. He had noticed that you acted with him differently. Your behavior remained unchanged towards the other boys in the house.

“y/n. Don’t avoid me; please, please y/n, look at me”

You have plunged your eyes into its bewitching blue irises. Big mistake. You were drowning now in the turmoil of your feelings for the blonde. He had always had that effect on you, always. Tears started to bead at the corners of your eyes, you were biting your lip to hold back the torrent of tears that was already beginning to flow. Harrison's throat tightened at the sight of you like that and his hold on your shoulders slowly loosened.

“I hate seeing you like this. Please talk to me” he almost begged you

“Harrison…” your voice struggle as soon you pronounced his name.

“Please darling…tell me what’s goin’ on”

As a perfect angel, Tom was the one who saved you by interrupting this quick talk. You wiped away your tears with the end of your sleeve and run away to your room. Harrison sighed in despair. He didn't understand why you were running away from him like the plague.

“Dude, do you know why she's like that. What did I do? » He finally asked to Tom.

"I can't tell you Haz. She's the only one having the right to tell you about this"

"Bullshit. Fuck you all." Harrison said, frustrated.

Then he just quit, leaving the kitchen.

☙♡❧

Sunday came and Tom asked you all to spend the night with him before his LA trip the next evening. It was a normal night with friends. And despite your pent-up feelings and wanting to avoid Harrison at all costs, you didn't want to miss Tom, he was your friend.

There was only the usual gang: Harry, Tuwaine, Tom (obviously) and you. But the tension was felt within the group. The lingering unspoken words about your feelings for Harrison were beginning to weigh on all of your friendship. It was so bad that it hurts to stay in the same room as Harrison. All you could see was his constant happiness, this wonderful man he had always been but in a more radiant version of himself. And you weren't the cause of that. You hated it, you hated being selfish that much. You were ready to sacrifice your friendship with the young Netflix actor for two reasons: you wanted to protect yourself ... and you weren't ready to be that obstacle in the midst of Harrison and Grace's happiness.

You were in the kitchen with Harry, pretending to help him with drinks and snacks. The curly boy could see you dragging your feet, repeating like a mantra this phrase "come on, you can do it ... do it for Tom, it's his night. Don’t be selfish, you can make it." And you really wanted it ... have a good time with your friends.

Sometimes Harry felt guilty for introducing Gracie to Harrison. They worked together as set PA in 2018 and became close friends but not as close as you were with him. You considered him like your best friend. It made sense for him to feel a bit responsible for your broken heart. But you never said a word about it.

“I’m sorry, y/n” confessed Harry.

“For what?” you simply responded.

"For having hampered your happiness. I was stupid to introduce Grace to Harrison and ignore your feelings. I wanted to help my friend. "

"Bullshit Harry. Never apologize for that. You've been a great friend to Harrison."

"But not for you."

"Who cares?" you asked, trying to minimize your feelings

"Me ... you are one of my best friend y/n"

"Just like Harrison is your best friend. Don't apologize for making him happy. Fuck, I'm the one who should apologize." You said, with a tone of anger and despair in your voice

And that's how you crack, breaking in all your sensitivity. You couldn't hold back your tears from falling as you blasted everything that was on your heart. You don't even realize that Harrison is a few feet behind your back. The weight of your feelings, your anxieties explode in the kitchen as when a cup is dropped on the immaculate tiled floor.

“What I got to do to make him love me? What I got to do to make him care? Not as the sweet friend Harry. I’m deeply in love with him and it’s gonna drive me insane! What I got to do to make him want me? Huh Harry, can you tell me? All those question in my head…and no answer to that. And you know what? It's sad, sad situation…more than that it’s a shitty situation, because I'm getting away from him and it makes us sick. Because I'm unable to tell him why.”

“You just told me.” Harrison finally said.

You jumped for a second before you froze. Harry is caught off guard and rushes into the living room stammering an apology. You are trapped. You are trapped and you can hear the footsteps of your roommate coming closer to you, so close, that now you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. Gently, he places his hands on your arms and exerts pressure for you to face him.

"You love me"

"It depends ..." you replied with difficulty

"On what?"

"On what you heard before."

"Enough that you can't contradict me."

Her thin smile doesn't help you relax. Instead, you look down, admiring your two pairs of feet. You felt like being stripped naked and you didn't like that feeling. If you could have kept this secret in your grave. But now he knew and you felt even heavier than the Titanic.

"So ... is that it? Nothing more to tell me?"

"What do you want me to add to what you've already heard?"

"Sorry?" he tried.

"For what?"

"For what? y/n are you kidding me? Sorry for being distant with me, maybe? Sorry for hiding all these things from you? Sorry for not trusting our friendship to come to me and speak?" he exploded…

"What would that have been for, Harrison? You don't love me back…" you screamed back.

"I ... I’m ..."

"See, sorry seems to be the hardest word."

After that last ironic reply, silence fell in the kitchen. So was that it? Was that how your friendship was to end? The great giants of the universe had reserved this dramatic scene for you to break years of bonding. You didn't know how to get out of this situation. You didn't even know if there was a few more things to save. You were broken and had just spoiled the happiness of one of your best friends.

Harrison was silent. He seemed to be probing your body, your attitude, analyzing any gesture that might give him the opportunity to take a step towards you. But the solution was there, finding everything ... It was enough, for both of you, to swallow your pride.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" you echo your previous conversation

"Sorry for not feeling the same as you. For not being who you want me to be to you."

"You know ... I don't hate her."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Gracie. I don't hate her. She makes you really happy. I just hate the jealousy I feel towards her… I hate that I am not her. But I don’t hate her, she's a really good girl."

A small smile dawned on Harrison's lips, the blonde toyed nervously with his fingers and the ring he always wore as an accessory.

"Yeah ... yeah she's great."

"I'm really sorry ... about everything."

"It's ok. We don't control how we feel. I..I can understand"

"Yeah..."

"y/n?" he tried; a little bit shy about what he’s gonna ask.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you think we can be friends again?"

You bow your head, taking a minute to think. Was everything really broken? Were you going to be able to rebuild a solid friendship after this conversation? Were you going to be able to squeeze out your feelings? You sighed before plunging into those beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much.

"Maybe. I hope so with all my heart."

"I hope so too. And I hope you find someone like I found Grace."

"You can always dream. You dripping with love, it's impossible to find someone like you two."

"Don't despair. He might be closer than you think."

He winked at you and you looked at him confused. But after a few seconds, a smile appeared at the corner of your lips. No, you had no hope of him talking about him. But you were happy, because that little sentence opened the door for you to a bond that you were trying to find.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x y/n

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joeygoeshollywood · 3 years

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My 25 Favorite Films of 2020

Well, this was quite the crazy year, especially for movies. While many films that were slated to be released this year were postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic, this year still provided some laughs, tears, and thrills both in theaters and in the living room.

(NOTE: Due to the delayed awards season calendar and postponed Oscar bait films that are unavailable to be seen before the end of 2020, this list will eventually be updated after having seen the following films: The Father, Minari, News of the World, Nomadland, One Night in Miami, Pieces of a Woman, Promising Young Woman)

Here are my 25 favorite films of the year:

25. Kajillionaire

Quirky filmmaker Miranda July is back with her first feature in nearly a decade. Kajillionaire is a bizarre but captivating tale about a family of criminal grifters and how the daughter reevaluates her strained relationship with her parents after an outsider is welcomed into the fold. Evan Rachel Wood takes what could have easily been dismissed as a goofy caricature in Old Dolio (yes, that’s her name) and turns into a heartfelt portrayal of a woman whose lifestyle of freeloading dictated by her parents (played by Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) becomes her own crisis. In many ways, Kajillionaire feels like a fantasy that keeps people asking, “What on earth is going on?” And this time, it’s for the best.

24. Freaky

Revamping decades-old plots like the body-swapping antics from Freaky Friday can either result in a predictable failure or a surprising success. Thankfully, Freaky falls into the latter category. In this horror comedy, a deranged serial killer (played by Vince Vaughn) swaps bodies with his victim, a timid teen girl (played by Kathryn Newton). What makes the film work though are the dedicated lead performances, particularly by Vaughn, who is pretty convincing as young girl trapped in a grown man’s body. With a few good laughs and decent thrills, Freaky is worth the watch.

23. The Outpost

The Outpost is an intense film about the real-life story of small group of US troops isolated by surrounding mountains in Afghanistan, under the constant threat of the Taliban, which ultimately comes to a head in the Battle of Kamdesh. The film captures the harrowing experiences of these soldiers with heart-pounding action sequences, which are fueled by a solid cast including Scott Eastwood, Caleb Landry Jones, and Orlando Bloom.

22. Uncle Frank

Paul Bettany may be best known for playing The Vision in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but he should be celebrated as his title character in Uncle Frank, a touching dramedy set in 1973 about an NYU professor who returns home to his estranged family for his father’s funeral while his niece, played by rising star Sophia Lillis, idolizes him for teaching her to be her authentic self while he keeps his sexuality a secret. Bettany brilliantly balances the coolness of his stature with the internal agony that ultimately hits a boiling point, which is counterbalanced by Peter Macdissi’s fun performance as Frank’s happy-go-lucky lover who accompanies him back home despite his wishes.

21. Hillbilly Elegy

Hillbilly Elegy was panned by critics over politics that had absolutely no role the film. Based on the best-selling memoir by J.D. Vance, the newest feature from Ron Howard shows the journey of a boy who despite all odds growing up in a poor family that constantly struggled with abuse and addition managed to get into Yale Law School and achieve the American dream. While both Gabriel Basso and Owen Asztalos hold the film together as the younger and older Vance in the present and flashback scenes, Amy Adams as the impulsive, irresponsible mother and an unrecognizable Glenn Close as the no-nonsense inspiring grandmother that turn Hillbilly Elegy into an acting tour de force.

20. The Trial of the Chicago 7

Oscar-winning screenwriter Aaron Sorkin sits in the director’s chair once again in this courtroom drama about the real-life protesters who showed up in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic National Convention. With themes that resonate today, The Trial of the Chicago 7 benefits from its sharp screenplay, well-paced editing, and an outstanding ensemble cast that includes Eddie Redmayne, Mark Rylance, Yahoo Abdul-Mateen II, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Frank Langella, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Michael Keaton.

19. Yellow Rose

Broadway actress Eva Noblezada makes her film debut as an aspiring country singer on the run after her mother, an illegal immigrant, is obtained for deportation. Yellow Rose presents a nuanced depiction of US immigration, but at the heart of it is a heartbreaking story of a young woman who struggles between putting her family or her dreams first. Between Noblezada’s powerful performance and solid original music, Yellow Rose hits all the right chords.

18. Palm Springs

Move over, Groundhog Day. While the Bill Murray classic has largely monopolized the time loop film genre, Palm Springs gives it a run for its money. Andy Sandberg and Cristin Milioti star as the unlikely duo who are stranded reliving the same dreaded wedding day involving mutual acquaintances and their desperate efforts to escape the seemingly inescapable. The Hulu comedy stands on its own two feet for the good laughs, the chemistry between the two leads, and the film’s emotionally-grounded plot.

17. Let Him Go

Kevin Costner and Diane Lane reunite on the big screen after playing farmer parents in Man of Steel to rancher grandparents in Let Him Go, although this time they are able to display their full acting chops. In this period dramatic thriller, they set out to find their only grandchild following the death of their son only to discover that the widowed daughter-in-law remarried into an infamous crime family. While both Costner and Lane tug at the heartstrings, it’s Lesley Manville, who plays the ruthless matriarch of the family, that really takes command of the screen. Ultimately, Let Him Go is all about family and the lengths one is willing to go to protect it.

16. Unhinged

In a year plagued by the pandemic, Unhinged led the way to the revival of movie theaters back in August and perhaps in some ways it was meant to be the film to do so as the themes of a rage-fueled society and the lack of human connection carry weight. Russell Crowe stars, as the title suggests, as an unhinged psychopath whose road rage torments a woman and her adolescent son. Unhinged is the epitome of pure entertainment and is why we go to the movies. While it’s not quite the most sophisticated thriller of the year, it’s still one helluva ride.

15. Emma

Anya Taylor-Joy has had quite the year with both highs (The Queen’s Gambit) and lows (The New Mutants). But it began before the pandemic with the release of Emma, which she stars as the iconic Jane Austen title character, a socialite who meddles in the love life of others while refusing to acknowledge her own shortcomings in that department. Supported with a strong ensemble cast, beautiful production design, and comedic charm, Emma is not to be missed.

14. The Invisible Man

ln the era of remakes and reboots, very few are as good as Universal’s latest monster flick revival of The Invisible Man. Elisabeth Moss stars as a woman who believes she’s being haunted by her abusive ex-husband, someone she becomes convinced faked his own death and is stalking her without being able to be seen. Filmmaker Leigh Whannell, the writer behind the Saw and Insidious horror franchises, generates good thrills and high-wire tension with the help of high production value and a terrifyingly-good performance from Moss.

13. Dick Johnson is Dead

Documentarian Kirsten Johnson filmed a beautiful, intimate tribute to her father Dick Johnson, who has been suffering from Alzheimer's in the final years of his life. However, instead of dreading his death, both daughter and father embrace it by having him acting out several scenes of his over-the-top demises. Dick Johnson is Dead may focus on the subject manner of death, but this documentary actually celebrates life and the laughs that happen along the way.

12. The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Perhaps one of the littlest-known films of the year, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is not your conventional indie comedy horror flick. Writer/director Jim Cummings stars as an overly-heated police officer who attempts to get to the bottom of a string of murders in his small, snowy Utah town by what appears to be some sort of werewolf, though he remains unconvinced. Featuring one of the final performances from veteran actor Robert Forster, The Wolf of Snow Hollow uses its quirky sense of humor to stand out from the rest of the pack.

11. The Gentlemen

The Gentlemen is a fun, action-packed, crime caper from Guy Ritchie about the London turf war of drug kingpins. Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Henry Goulding, Michelle Dockery, and Colin Ferrell all round out the strong cast, but its Hugh Grant that really steals the show as the comedically manipulative Fletcher, whose only allegiance is to himself. If you like a stylish film with well-choreographed violence and a fast-paced plot, The Gentlemen should be your cup of tea.

10. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Some of the best play-to-film adaptations are the films that feel like you’re watching a play, and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is one of them. Produced by Denzel Washington, Viola Davis gives a transformative performance as Ma Rainey, known as the “mother of the blues” and the clash she had with a pair of White music producers, but she also butts heads with her trumpet player (played by the late Chadwick Boseman), who also has his own music ambitions. While Davis obviously gives other Oscar-worthy performance, it was Boseman who was able to show how incredibly gifted he was as an actor. And while the world lost him far too soon, at least his last role ended up being his greatest.

9. The Kid Detective

One of the biggest surprises of the year was how good a movie starring and produced by Adam Brody was. Brody plays a washed up former kid detective who attempts to revive his once-celebrated career of solving mysteries by getting to the bottom of a murder in his hometown. The Kid Detective is a brilliant dark comedy from newcomer writer/director Evan Morgan with good laughs, plenty of plot twists, and a career-best performance from Brody, who proves he’s more than just the pretty face from The O.C. we all know him as.

8. Mank

Citizen Kane is widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made and Mank is a worthy tribute. Gary Oldman stars as the title character Herman “Mank” Mankiewicz, the Oscar-winning screenwriter behind the iconic film. David Fincher (The Social Network, Gone Girl) managed to capture the epic scale of the 1941 classic that would make Orson Welles proud.

7. Soul

Soul is one of those rare existential Pixar films that goes beyond being children’s entertainment. Following in the footsteps of 2015′s Inside Out, Soul depicts what happens to the soul of a jazz musician who’s convinced his time on Earth isn’t over. While the universe created to explain how souls work and the plot that went along with it falls short of its emotions predecessor, Soul is still high-caliber among Pixar films and a great movie for both kids and adults alike.

6. Another Round

Perhaps the greatest work from Swedish director Thomas Vinterberg to date, Another Round follows four unsatisfied middle aged men who decide to take a theory of task from a Norwegian psychiatrist, who concluded that maintaining a blood alcohol level of 0.050 will enhance their mental and psychological state. Mads Mikkelsen, who’s best known to American audiences as Hannibal Lecter in the short-lived NBC series Hannibal and the Bond villain in Casino Royale, offers a strong, nuanced performance as one of the four educators who embraces this drinking challenge in a film that provides an equal balance of chuckles, cringes, and emotional gut punches.

5. I’m Thinking of Ending Things

From the crazy mastermind of Charlie Kaufman, the writer behind Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Anomalisa, his latest on Netflix is too a mind-bender. I’m Thinking of Ending Things is a surreal, zany, and at times disturbing examination of the human condition as the nameless female protagonist played by an incredible Jessie Buckley mulls over breaking up with her boyfriend (played by Jesse Plemons) while visiting his parents’ house. Accompanied with a stellar production design and a crazy-good performance from Toni Collette as “Mother,” Kaufman newest cerebral feature lives up to his iconic reputation of filmmaking.

4. Da 5 Bloods

Spike Lee is one of the few genius filmmakers who is able to blend multiple genres together and his latest film is no different. Da 5 Bloods is an action adventure, buddy comedy, dramatic character study, and war movie all wrapped up into one about a group of Vietnam War veterans who return to the former battlegrounds to find the remains of one of their fallen soldiers as well as some treasure that they kept hidden years ago. With a strong ensemble cast that includes the late Chadwick Boseman, its longtime character actor Delroy Lindo who steals the show with his powerful performance. Da 5 Bloods is easily one of Netflix’s strongest films to date.

3. The Assistant

One of the first #MeToo-era films, The Assistant offers the day in the life of a low-level female staffer of a production company who is haunted by the presence of her Harvey Weinstein-like boss (who never actually appears in the film). However, rather than depicting the dramatics of sexual misconduct, The Assistant uses the common subtleties and nuances of the workplace yet maintains the same tension and heartbreak. Anchored by the remarkable, devastating performance by up-and-comer Julia Garner (Ozark), The Assistant is as important as it is well-done.

2. Sound of Metal

Riz Ahmed gives the performance of his career as a heavy metal drummer and former addict whose sudden battle with going deaf upends his life. Sound of Metal is an incredible experience that gives a rare glimpse in the American deaf community which is enhanced by the remarkable sound design that helps the audience actually hear what the musician is going through. It’s truly one of the most rewarding films of the year.

1. The Climb

The Climb takes the generic “man sleeps with his best friend’s fiancé” storyline and turns it on its head. In his feature debut as writer and director, Michael Angelo Covino leads as the not-so-apologetic adulterer Mike and Kyle Marvin, who co-wrote the film, is the good-hearted Kyle who struggles to whether or not to forgive his best friend’s ultimately betrayal. Not only is The Climb is quirky and hilariously written, it’s a remarkably well-made comedy with some of the year’s best cinematography. Between a strong cast, a superb screenplay, and the extremely-high production value, The Climb is at the top of the mountain of 2020′s best films.

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rowansparrow · 3 years

Text

Juke Box Hero: A Rose Story

This is SO STUPID LMAO But I hope you guys like it anyway. I’m back on my bullshit and I am here to provide you with a little story based off THIS POST. Anon, thank you for your service, because this was very, very fun.

This snippet takes place during Chapter Seven of BAON, during the flashback when Reader is meeting Rex for the first time and Rose and Co. are stuck cleaning up the barracks. You don’t necessarily have to have read it for this to make sense, but the right context might be neat.

Also, for timeline purposes/in BAON, Tup and Dogma technically never met Rose, as they weren’t part of the 501st before he died, but I’m including them in this because I make the rules and I wanted to.

Also Denal’s here because I think he’s a funky dude and deserves more content.

The clones deserve to dance and have fun and who’s gonna write them doing that if it ain’t me?

Rating: Mature-ish? There are some dirty jokes and swearing but mostly it’s Just fun shenanigans with Rose and Bros.

(Also I spent a TON of time picking everyone’s songs so pls tell me what you think of my selections lmao).

I’m tagging everyone from the BAON tag list in case you’re interested. Enjoy!

In retrospect, perhaps Rose should have put a stop to the loth cat situation – or as Hardcase called it, Operation: P.U.S.S.Y. He claimed it was an abbreviation for “Petting Unusually Sweet Strays, Yeah!”

“You have to call it something else.” Rose had said at the time, staring at the loth cat cradled protectively in Hardcase’s arms.

“But you’re not saying no?” Hardcase prompted eagerly, already bouncing lightly on his heels.

“Just…” Rose pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… clean up after it? And if it breaks anything, it’s on you, and for the love of Force, don’t get caught.”

Now, as the Lieutenant surveyed the disarray that had befallen the barracks, and the company of very disgruntled subordinates, he was reconsidering his earlier leniency.

“I feel as the acting SIC, you’re the one who should be taking the flak for this, not the entire company.” Jesse grumbled, glaring at Lieutenant Rose over his shoulder as he scrubbed at the floor of the barracks.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who brought a pregnant loth-cat into the barracks in the first place.” Rose replied, straightening up for a moment where he’d been hunched over, his back cracking as he moved.

“Well, you didn’t fight me very hard on it!” Hardcase protested. “And I didn’t know Beans was pregnant at the time! I didn’t even know she was a girl!”

His explanation only earned him several slugs to the arm from nearby vode.

“And just because I’m second-in-command does not make me exempt from the Captain’s wrath.” Rose added. “You didn’t get the dressing-down, you just have to carry out the punishment with me.”

“Hang on, I thought we agreed the cat’s name was going to be Road Rash?” Coric asked.

“That’s unladylike.” Said Denal. “And rude. She can’t help her scars.”

“And Beans is ladylike?” Jesse raised an eyebrow.

“She likes it! And her kits looked like beans when they came out too!”

Rose shook his head fondly at his men as they bickered. At least they weren’t complaining anymore.

In truth, he was surprised the situation had been managed as long as it had been. They’d lasted almost a full three weeks without anyone figuring out they were hiding a cat in the barracks. Of course, the kittens made it much harder, and they could only hide them in overturned helmets during inspections for so many days before the helmets started to mewl.

And once Beans threw a tantrum over not having her kits with her, it was game over. She’d knocked over an entire can of armor paint in her wrath, and blue pawprints and large paint puddles coated the durasteel of the barracks, and a few of the bunks had claw and bite marks in the fabric.

“It’ll take us an hour, maybe more, to clean this whole mess up.” Fives complained, looking around the barracks forlornly. He had a nasty scratch just under his eye from finally snatching Beans up in her rampage. “Kriff. I was excited to go out tonight.”

“Not to mention after we finish here the Captain said we had to go take over latrine and canteen detail from other battalions.”

“Then I guess you better get scrubbing.” Kix said absently, thumbing through medical requisition forms on his datapad and sitting cross-legged on one of the few bunks that didn’t have blue paw prints streaked across it.

“Why aren’t you helping? You’re part of the company too.” Echo said. “Fives and I are ARC troopers, if anyone here should be exempt from company-wide punishments, it’s us.”

“I’m not helping because I didn’t participate.” Kix replied, not looking up from his ‘pad.

“The kark you didn’t, you delivered the kits!” Fives snapped.

“Well, Captain Rex didn’t catch me, so.”

“That’s because you went and hid in the medbay and didn’t warn the rest of us he was coming.” Tup muttered under his breath.

“Not true. I sent Jesse a comm.” Kix said, finally looking up only to shrug and return to his work. “Which he didn’t check, and that’s not my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter who was involved and who wasn’t involved.” Dogma piped up. “Clearly, because if it did, I wouldn’t be here either.”

“We know.” Said Jesse and Fives in unison.

Rose sighed, his eyes drifting forlornly to his bunk. He spotted his footlocker sticking halfway out from underneath the durasteel, and he lit up. He opened it quickly, pulling out a beat-up radio he’d gotten at a market stall during one of his first deployments. He’d had to trade a droid popper and half his rations for it – Rex had not been pleased about it when he found out – but it was worth the two-day latrine rotation he’d gotten as punishment.

He’d already downloaded several songs off the HoloNet, along with a few channel recordings of past BoloBall games. Even if he knew who won them, it was still something to listen to on long stints on cruisers.

“What’cha doing, Lieutenant?” Tup asked, peeking around the corner as Rose straightened back up, fumbling with the little radio for a moment and propping it up on one of the bunks so the music could fill the whole room.

“No. NO! No.” Jesse jabbed a finger at the Lieutenant as he saw him set up the radio. “No. Absolutely not. I have had enough of your osik-brained, Force-forsaken, whack-ass music to last me a lifetime.”

Kix chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other trooper. “You listen exclusively to electronic dance music. Even when we aren’t at 79s. You have no room to talk.”

“This is better than that.” Rose promised, dialing up the volume. “This is the kind of stuff you’d find on the jukebox at Dex’s Diner.” He grinned. Dex was personal friends with General Kenobi, and was one of the few Coruscant establishments that was friendly to clones, as long as they behaved themselves. Rose had gone there with his brothers a handful of times, and even Anakin had dragged his Padawan Ahsoka, Rose, and Rex along once.

“You have a radio?” Dogma frowned. “Isn’t that contraband, sir?”

“Relax, it’s an old prewar-era radio, it’s not hurting anything.” Fives drawled, knocking Dogma lightly on the shoulder. “What’re you gonna play, sir?”

“Let’s see…” Rose filtered through his downloads, and grinned wider, pressing play.

Immediately, soft music rang through the barracks, and Jesse smacked his head against the bunk, groaning loudly.

“I’m begging you, Lieutenant.” Jesse said. “I’m begging.”

Rose was already swaying his hips, bending over to grab Jesse by the chin.

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air.” Rose serenaded him.

Jesse swatted Rose’s hand away, and Rose turned, swinging around on the side of the bunk and pointing to Fives this time. “Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night.”

Fives grinned, joining in even as he stumbled slightly over the words.

“There she stood in the doorway. I heard the mission bell and I was thinking to myself, this could be Heaven or this could be Hell.”

Kix was drumming his fingers on his datapad, nodding along and singing under his breath.

“Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say…”

“This is too slow.” Echo griped, rising to his feet and stepping over Dogma, who was still stubbornly scrubbing away at the barrack floors and refusing to engage even as the rest of the clones began quietly singing along with the chorus.

The ARC Trooper fiddled with the dial for a moment, scrolling through Rose’s music and selecting another song, already grinning as the chanting started through the speakers and eventually rippled through the ranks of the 501st.

“STOP.” Jesse barked, trying to kick Fives as the other ARC trooper hopped to his feet, stomping his feet and chanting along. “STOP, I HATE THIS ONE!”

Rose and Hardcase were chanting too, and Coric had started clapping his hands on an overturned bucket, a few shinies clapping their hands together as Echo shook his ass, kama swaying as he climbed up onto a nearby table. He scooped up a mop, pulling the handle to his mouth.

“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me.” He pointed to Kix, grinding against the handle. “Girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me.”

Kix gave him the finger, and Echo pointed to Fives, who was still chanting with the others but was now holding up his helmet, recording the whole thing. Echo amped up his performance.

“When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s alright. I’m hooked on a feeling!”

Tup whooped from where he’d moved to sit on one of the bunks. Dogma shot him a nasty look, which he ignored in favor of watching Echo strut on the table.

“I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me. Lips as sweet as candy, its taste is on my mind. Girl you got me thirsty for another cup of wine.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I have a good one.” Fives shoved his helmet at Hardcase, letting him take over recording as he scrambled to the radio, quickly turning the dial once again and elbowing Echo off the table as fast, loud, angry guitars shredded through the barracks.

Jesse seemed to perk up just slightly, and any of the 501st troopers who were still trying to actually clean – save for Dogma – had abandoned their supplies and had elected to dance instead, crowding the table and forming a makeshift mosh pit.

Fives was nothing if not a showman, and when he snatched the mop from Echo, he performed.

“When I get high, I get high on speed. Top fuel funny car’s a drug for me, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

He stomped his foot hard on the table, flipping his head back and running one hand messily through his hair.

“Always got the cops coming after me, custom-built bike doing 103, my heart! My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Rose laughed, watching as Fives looked at the helmet Hardcase was hoisting up over the crowd, singing into the camera and rolling his shoulders back.

“Ooh, are ya ready, girls? Ooh, are you ready now? Woah, yeah! Kickstart my heart, baby give it a start. Woah, yeah! Baby! Kickstart my heart, hope it never stops. Woah, yeah, baby yeah!”

The clones joined him for the chorus, and then Fives dropped to his knees like he’d seen rockers do on the HoloNet, high fiving the nearest vode. Dogma was still stubbornly trying to clean up the barracks, but had moved on to one of the far corners, only giving the rest of his battalion the occasional side-eye.

“Skydive naked from an aeroplane, or a lady with a body from outer space, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart.” He wiggled his hips as he straightened back up, biting his lip through a grin and dropping his hand to his hips and shaking his fist obscenely, as though he was jerking himself off.

“Say I got trouble, trouble in my eyes, I’m just looking for another good time, my heart. My heart! Kickstart my heart!”

Before Fives could do something else profane – or possibly attempt to crowd-surf and give Rose a handful of incident reports to fill out, the music suddenly shifted, and all heads turned to the radio.

Kix was smirking. He’d divested himself of the top half of his armor, instead electing to shimmy his way up onto the table in just the upper half of his blacks and lower armor plates. Fives exited, rejoining the crowd as Kix leveled a sultry look at the camera for just a moment before turning his back on the crowd.

“Clean shirt, new shoes, and I don’t know where I am goin’ to. Silk suit, black tie, I don’t need a reason why.”

He spun quickly, switching his grip on the mop handle as though he was holding a woman in his arms, dipping it low towards the crowd as he sang.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives and Echo were howling with laughter, and Hardcase wolf-whistled loud enough that Rose’s ears rang. Even Jesse had finally joined in, nodding his head along to the music and trying to bite back a grin. Tup had left the crowd to instead attempt to pull Dogma in, and Denal had rounded up a few newer members and was trying to push them closer to the front.

Kix unzipped the top half of his blacks, doing a slow strip-tease in time with the music.

“Gold watch, diamond ring, I ain’t missin’, not a single thing. And cufflinks, stickpin, when I step out I’mma do you in.” Kix shrugged out of his blacks and rolled his hips along the mop handle, dropping his ass low and slowly dragging himself back up, grinding against the handle.

“They come a runnin’ just as fast as they can, ‘cos every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man.”

Fives actually pretended to faint, falling backwards into Echo, who was laughing so hard that he fell over with him.

“ALRIGHT!” Dogma shouted over the music, elbowing his way through the crowd with Tup following anxiously behind him. Dogma firmly stopped the music, hands on his hips as he turned to face the rest of his brothers, who’d begun to boo.

“We have orders,” Dogma reminded them. “This is a punishment, not a party. When we finish here, we’re supposed to clean the shower block, and then we’re supposed to report to the mess hall and take over the canteen cleanup shifts.”

“We know the orders, Dogma.” Rose said, putting a hand on the younger trooper’s shoulder. “There’s no harm in having fun while you work.”

“I’m the only one still working.” Dogma grumbled.

“Alright, alright, we’ll turn it low for now, and we’ll finish up in here, then we can bring the radio with us when we move to the refreshers and canteen. Fair?” He asked, turning to the rest of the men. There were a few muttered responses, and Rose raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out.” He said. “We are cleaning this mess up, correct gentlemen?”

“Sir yes sir!” They all answered quickly, hurrying back to work.

Rose chuckled, shifting the music to something a little calmer, the gentle piano wafting through the barracks as they continued to clean up.

Denal’s head perked up as soon as he heard the piano start, and while he didn’t climb up onto the table like his brothers had, he smiled to himself, turning back towards the spot he was scrubbing and singing to the durasteel floor.

“I'm sailing away. Set an open course for the Virgin Sea.”

Echo hummed, closing his eyes and rocking back on his heels for a moment, listening to his older vod croon.

“'Cause I've got to be free. Free to face the life that's ahead of me.” Denal continued, his voice soft but steady. “On board I'm the captain, so climb aboard. We'll search for tomorrow on every shore and I'll try, oh Lord I'll try… to carry on.”

Somebody whistled, a few scattered claps ringing through the barracks. Coric picked up where Denal left off.

“I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory. Some happy some sad.” He sang. “I think of childhood friends, and the dreams we had.”

Tup glanced to Dogma, who was practically seething as he scrubbed at the same spot on the floor that he’d been working on for the past several minutes. “You like this song, don’t you, Dogma?”

“No I don’t. Shut up.”

“Join in. They won’t mind.” Tup encouraged.

“No.”

“We live happily forever, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.” Sang Coric. “But we'll try best that we can to carry on!”

The music picked up, and Jesse shot Rose a look.

“This is a deceptively fast song.” He said.

“It sneaks up on ya.” Rose chuckled.

The barracks devolved into chaos once again, the clones all screaming along to the lyrics, even the ones who didn’t know the words picked it up quickly, encouraged by their brothers.

Despite the distractions, they finally finished cleaning the barracks, and Rose plucked the radio from where he’d stashed it, leading the way down the hallway towards the refreshers. The 501st were especially rowdy in the quiet halls – most of the barracks were empty, the clones who weren’t being punished for loth-cat related shenanigans were taking advantage of the shore leave.

When they opened the door to the shower block, they encountered a few members of the 212th already in there, cleaning up.

“Pack it in, lads.” Rose announced. “We’re taking over for you.”

“What? Why?” Boil asked, leaning on a mop and raising an eyebrow. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Yes.” Hardcase replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“All of you?” Waxer poked his head out from inside one of the refresher stalls, Crys and Wooley pausing from where they were wiping down countertops.

“Yeah, it’s Hardcase’s fault. As usual.” Jesse said, strolling over to Boil and plucking the mop from his hands. “We’re supposed to take over your shifts.”

“Good, I was hoping to get to 79’s tonight before last call. I hear they’ve got purple spotchka.” Boil said excitedly, glancing at Waxer over his shoulder.

“We can help you finish.” Waxer said, immediately raining on his brother’s parade. “There isn’t much left to do anyway.”

“You sure?” Rose asked. “It’s technically a punishment -.”

“Nah, it’s fine, there really isn’t much left, aside from the toilets.” He grinned. “But you boys can handle those.”

“Fair enough.” Rose chuckled, nodding over his shoulder to his men. Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase were in a heated four-way battle of rock, flimsi, cutters in order to determine who had to clean the toilets first.

“What’s that?” One trooper Rose didn’t recognize asked, pointing to his hand.

“It’s a radio!” Rose said cheerfully. “I’m err… technically not supposed to have it. But we’ve been listening to music while we worked.” He set it up on the countertop. “Do you have a favorite song…?”

“Spitter.” The 212th trooper supplied helpfully.

“Spitter.” Rose repeated, chuckling to himself and wondering how the hell he’d earned that name. “Do you have a favorite song?”

“I don’t know the name of it.” The trooper admitted shyly. “But – but it’s the one they play on the hits channel all the time. I hear it playing in the admiral’s quarters on the Negotiator all the time.”

“I know that one!” Waxer said excitedly, nodding to Rose. “It’s the one Commander Cody likes. You were playing it in the hangar a few weeks ago when our flight detail overlapped.”

“I remember.” Rose smiled, and turned the song on.

Immediately, every head, including Dogma’s, perked up at the familiar tune. Fives clapped his hands together, getting them started.

“When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.”

The younger trooper, Spitter, lit up and followed it up.

“When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

Waxer elbowed Boil, trying to get him to join in, but the other trooper shook his head and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes even as Waxer sang.

“If I get drunk, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.”

Their voices carried through the refresher’s tiled walls, and Jesse picked up where Waxer left off.

“And if I haver, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s havering to you.”

When the chorus rolled around, everyone joined in, their voices bouncing off the walls around them.

“But I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door.”

“When I’m working,” Kix began, offering a hand to Wooley and giving him a playful spin. “Yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s working hard for you.”

“And when the money comes in for the work I do, I’ll pass almost every penny on to you.” Wooley laughed, shoving Kix away with a grin.

“When I come home,” Tup piped up quickly, before someone else could. “Oh, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you.”

“And if I grow old,” Crys smirked, shaking his shoulders at Fives, who punched him playfully in the arms and joined in, singing the line in unison. “Well, I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s growing old with you.”

The chorus returned, and they sang with even more feeling than before, dancing and tossing their heads back, shouting along to the words and nearly drowning out the music itself as they sang.

As the final verse approached, Waxer sidled up next to Boil, giving him a hopeful look. His brother sighed, scrubbing a hand bitterly over his face and reluctantly joined in.

“When I’m lonely, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s lonely without you.” He sang.

“And when I’m dreaming,” Echo called. “Well I know I’m gonna dream, I’m gonna dream about the time when I’m with you.”

“And when I go out, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.” Fives followed.

“And when I come home, yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who comes back home with you.” Denal said.

Tup took a deep breath, preparing to finish off the verse, but he was cut off.

“I’m gonna be the man who’s coming home,” Dogma’s voice was shaky as all eyes turned to him, and he finished in a squeak. “With you.”

The room erupted in cheers, Fives catching Dogma under his arm and giving him a noogie as the chorus rang out once again, everyone shouting along to the lyrics together.

When the song ended, and the cleanup was done, the 212th parted ways with the 501st, the brothers patting one another on the back and jeering affectionately at one another now that the song and dance was done.

“If you finish with everything before final call, catch up with us at 79’s.” Boil called over his shoulder. “We can give the vode there a run for their money with our rendition of that song.”

“Count on it.” Rose chuckled, giving the other company a little salute before leading his men on towards the canteen.

The canteen, blessedly, was empty, and most of it was already clean. All they really had to do was wipe everything down, mop, and then make sure the kitchen was well-prepped for the next day.

“I didn’t know you had it in ya, Dogma.” Echo said affectionately, knocking his younger vod playfully in the shoulder as they walked.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Dogma muttered, his ears burning as he pushed into the canteen, grabbing the cleaning supplies from the nearby supply closet.

“Who’s turn was it for a solo?” Fives asked, watching as Rose started to set up the radio above one of the food windows so it could project into the entire cafeteria.

“I think Dogma should go.” Kix grinned. “Now that we know he’s got some pipes.”

“Absolutely not.” Dogma said immediately, not looking up from where he was wiping down tables.

“I can go first?” Tup offered, raising his hand sheepishly. Dogma shot him another stern look, but Tup was already wandering over to the radio, moving the dial and tentatively pressing play.

Upbeat music filled the canteen, and the other troopers cheered as Fives ushered Tup over to the nearest table, boosting him up on top of it and then thrusting a mop into his hands. Hardcase was already fumbling with the helmet again, trying to get a recording as Tup tapped his foot along with the beat, nodding his head as he found his rhythm.

“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say. I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way.”

Fives was leading other troopers in pounding the surrounding tables in time with the drumbeats while Echo was leading another group to clap in time.

“I ain’t nothing but tired! Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself.” Tup flashed the camera a grin, reaching up and pulling his hair tie out, shaking his wild curls loose around his head. “Hey there baby, I could use just a little help.”

Jesse whistled, and Dogma had stopped cleaning and was watching his brother, the slightest smile pulling at his lips.

“You can’t start a fire, can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

Tup shook his hair out of his eyes, tossing his head back and jerking his hips.

“Messages keep getting clearer, radio’s on and I’m moving ‘round my place. I check my look in the mirror, wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!”

He swayed his hips again, and Hardcase shoved the camera at Kix instead so he could join in the clapping.

“Man, I ain’t getting nowhere, I’m just living in a dump like this. There’s something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is.”

He hopped off the table, instead taking Dogma’s hand and dragging him towards the makeshift stage.

“You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

He pushed the mop into Dogma’s hands instead, beaming at him as he scurried off the table, sprinting over to the radio and quickly changing the song.

Immediately, slow guitar started but quickly escalated into heavy drums and fast riffs. Dogma’s cheeks turned a darker shade, and he looked frantically to Tup, trying to climb back down off the stage.

“No, no, come on!” Fives shouted, trying to body block Dogma from getting down. “Come on, you got this!”

The lyrics began, and Dogma sang along, his mouth barely moving, voice almost imperceptible.

“Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken… and the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?”

“Come on!” Tup called to him. “You LOVE this song! Let ‘em hear it!”

Dogma grit his teeth, his voice gaining strength. “But you see, it’s not me, it’s not my family, in your head, in your head they are fighting.”

He stomped his foot on the table, practically snarling out the words. “With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns, in your head, in your head they are crying.”

He threw his head back, and for not the first time that night, the radio was drowned out by cheers.

“In your head! In your head! Zombie, Zombie, Zombie. What’s in your head? In your head? Zombie, Zombie, Zombie!”

Dogma climbed off the table quickly, his ears and cheeks burning but a small smile was on his face, even as he was smothered by Hardcase, Fives, Tup, and Echo swarming him with hugs and rubbing his head affectionately.

Jesse climbed up onto the table next, picking up the discarded mop and clearing his throat.

“I would just like to dedicate this song to the gorgeous woman I picked up at 79s last week.” He drawled, nodding once to Kix, who was hovering knowingly by the radio. He nodded once to the helmet, which was now stationed on a nearby table, still recording. “Darling, you had the best pair of tits I have ever seen in my entire life, and you had the mouth of an angel and the coochie of a devil.”

Fives whistled, and Coric snickered. Rose rolled his eyes.

“So, babygirl, this one is for you.”

Kix turned on the radio, and Jesse grinned.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darling, you give love a bad name.”

Guitar rang out through the mess hall, and Jesse bit his lip, rolling his hips as he leaned slightly off the edge of the table.

“An angel’s smile is what you sell, you promised me heaven then put me through hell. Chains of love got a hold on me, when passion’s a prison, you can’t break free.”

He dropped into a crouch, singing directly into the camera.

“Whoa, you’re a loaded gun, whoa, there’s nowhere to run, no one can save me, the damage is done!”

He jumped to his feet, the table shaking under him as he landed.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. You give love a bad name. I play my part and you play your game, you give love a bad name!” He turned his back on the crowd, dropping low again and slowly rising, shaking his ass. “Yeah you give love…”

He looked over his shoulder, tossing the camera a wink. “…a bad name.”

The music changed abruptly, and for a moment Jesse looked pissed. “What the hell, ‘Case?”

But his expression shifted as Hardcase rushed to the table, pushing his brother out of the way and taking the mop from him. The crowd cheered all over again as Jesse climbed down, brothers slapping him on the shoulders as Hardcase’s song started up.

“We finish strong, right vode?” He asked cheekily.

“We still have to finish cleaning!” Dogma called back.

Hardcase only smirked in response, and sang quickly to keep up with the lightning fast lyrics.

“Backstroking lover always hiding ‘neath the cover, can I talk to you, my daddy say. He said, you ain’t seen nothing ‘til you’re down on a muff and then you’re sure to be a-changin’ your ways.”

He cupped his codpiece, bucking his hips forward into his own hand.

“I met a cheerleader, was a real young bleeder, all the times I can reminisce. ‘Cos the best things of lovin’ with her sister and her cousin only started with a little kiss, like this!”

He swung his arms wide, shaking his ass in time with the music and stuck his tongue out, having the time of his life.

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

He walked backwards along the table, rolling his shoulders back as he moved.

“So I took a big chance at the high school dance with a missy who was ready to play. Wasn’t me she was foolin’ ‘cos she knew what she was doin’, and I know love is here to stay when she told me to walk this way!”

The rest of the 501st joined in with him, repeating the chorus of “Walk this way! Walk this way! Walk this way!” over and over again, Hardcase taking over again as the next verse began.

“School girl sweetie was the sassy kinda classy, little skirt’s climbing way up her knees. There was three young ladies in the school gym locker when I noticed they was lookin’ at me.”

He ran his hands along his thigh, mimicking raising a skirt.

“I was a high school loser, never made it with a lady ‘til the boys told me something I missed. Then my next-door neighbor with a daughter had a favor so I gave her just a little kiss, like this!”

“Do you think he has any idea what he’s singing about?” Kix asked Rose, leaning back against the counter and chuckling.

He watched as Hardcase went back to grabbing his own crotch, dry-humping the air and hummed.

“I’d say most likely.”

“See-saw swingin’ with the boys in the school and your feet flyin’ up in the air. Singin’ hey diddle diddle with your kitty in the middle of the swing like you didn’t care.”

Hardcase grinned, and to both Kix and Rose’s utter chagrin, Hardcase actually did dive off the makeshift stage and attempt to crowd surf.

“I’m not patching you up!” Kix shouted over the roar of the music. Rose chuckled, turning the volume nod down as the rest of the 501st shouted in protest.

“Alright, that’s enough for now.” The Lieutenant said, taking control once more. “We can listen to it quietly in the background, but we really do need to wrap up cleaning.”

“Why? Got a date tonight?” Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow. Rose punched him lightly in the arm, and they got back to work once again.

They worked in relative silence, the occasional voice humming or singing along to the music, but they remained productive right up until one of the final songs Rose had downloaded cut through the speaker. The piano wasn’t as rich-sounding as it was through a regular speaker, but even through the tinny cadence of the beat-up radio, every single trooper in the canteen bolted upright, eyebrows raised. Rose smiled knowingly, and turned up the volume once again.

Fives beamed, sitting down on top of one of the tables and laying back, one leg bent and the other stretched flat, a hand behind his head as he sang up at the ceiling.

“Just a small-town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Jesse leaned back against the wall on the other side of the canteen, closing his eyes as he joined in.

“Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.”

Echo kept mopping, but was grinning as he picked up the next line. “A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume.”

Kix grinned. “For a smile, they can share the night, it goes on, and on, and on, and on.”

The rest of the 501st joined in together, their voices carrying in perfect harmony.

“Strangers, waiting. Up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“Night!” Hardcase shouted, straining every muscle in his chest and neck as he struggled to reach the high note.

Tup picked up the next verse, climbing onto one of the tables and dragging Dogma up with him once again.

“Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants the thrill. Paying anything to roll the dice just one more time.”

Dogma smiled, nodding his head along to the music. “Some will win, some will lose.”

Tup threw his arm around his brother, and the two of them sang together. “Some were born to sing the blues!”

Rose’s voice carried from over by the radio. “Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on, and on and on!”

“Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the night. Streetlight people, living just to find emotion, hiding somewhere in the -.”

“NIGHT!” This time, it was Dogma, of all people, who rang out with the high note, and the explosion of shouts and cheers was deafening. They were screaming along to the lyrics, dancing and jumping and shouting and swaying in time with the song.

“Don’t stop believin’! Hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people! Don’t stop believin’, hold on-”

“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

The booming voice was so powerful, it could be heard even over the shouts of all the clones. Echo was closest to the radio, and quickly shut it off as the song and dance stopped immediately, every clone scrambling to stand at attention.

The Jedi that filled the doorway was massive, an imposing shadow in the entrance to the canteen. He zeroed in on Tup and Dogma, who had been standing closest to the entrance, and stormed towards them.

“Who is your commanding officer?!”

“Me, sir.”

The Besalisk Jedi turned, spinning on Rose immediately. He stalked over to the Lieutenant, jabbing a meaty finger into his chest, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

“What is the meaning of this?” He snarled.

“Sir, we were assigned cleaning detail.” He explained. “We were just finishing up.”

The Jedi bared his teeth. “Doesn’t look like much cleaning was taking place to me.”

He surveyed the rest of the troopers, but turned his head back to Rose.

“What is your designation?”

“CT-7673.” Rose recited immediately, keeping his back ramrod straight at attention, even though the Jedi was deep in his personal space. He knew this man. General Krell had quite the reputation through the GAR, and Rose had no clue what he was doing outside of the Jedi Temple this late at night.

“Who is your commanding officer?”

“Captain Rex, sir.”

“Not a clone! Is there a malfunction in your design?!” The Jedi bellowed. A few feet behind him, Hardcase flinched at the sudden loud sound, but Rose held still. “Your general, CT-7673! Who is your Commanding Officer!?”

“General Skywalker, sir.” Rose said instead. The canteen was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

He turned his head, noticing the little radio on the table and picked it up, the device small in his massive hands, raising an eyebrow at Rose. “Contraband, disturbance of the peace, behavior unbecoming of an officer, insubordination.” He hissed. “That’s plenty of grounds for a court martial, Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” Fives spoke up, taking a step towards them. “Proper chain of command designates General Skywalker as the one to hand down a court martial order, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with contempt. “With all due respect, sir, you do not command this battalion, and cannot order a court martial on the Lieutenant.”

“Fives.” Rose snapped, whipping his head around to face Fives. “Stand down. Now.”

The ARC Trooper shrank back, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and the General turned back to Rose.

“Be that as it may,” he began icily. “You can rest assured this breach of conduct will not go unreported.”

“Yes sir.” Rose replied stiffly.

General Krell pulled back at last, surveying the battalion. “I want this canteen spotless, and not a word out of you in the meantime!” He ordered. “And I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore.”

With one quick motion, he smashed the radio in his hands. Rose heard a soft, hurt sound somewhere behind him, but ignored it. He didn’t look away from the General.

“Dismissed.” Krell growled, turning and stalking towards the doors. “And as for you,” He turned, jabbing one large finger at Fives. “I’ll be mentioning you in my report as well. Pray our paths do not cross again, clone.”

And with those words, he left the canteen.

Rose relaxed, but only minimally so. The silence hung heavy over the 501st, and everyone quietly shuffled back to work.

Rose gripped the mop handle tightly as he worked, his knuckles turning white. His chest burned, a tight, constricting feeling wrapped around his insides. It was a feeling he’d never felt before – anger, sadness, humiliation, resignation – all rolled into one hateful ball, coiled in his gut.

“Finished with the kitchen, sir.” Came Tup’s small voice. He’d put his hair back up, the tight bun back to regulation standards. Dogma was standing stiff beside him, still not entirely relaxed yet. “And the um – the canteen area’s just about wrapped up as well.”

“Very good.” Rose said with a small nod. “I’ll report back to Captain Rex, let him know we’ve finished for the night.”

“Sorry about your radio, sir.” Hardcase murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, ‘Case.” Rose smiled, but his eyes were sad. “It was – it was old, anyway. Just a silly thing.”

Fives bristled, his jaw setting as he tossed the bucket he’d been holding back into the supply closet with far more force than necessary.

“We aren’t supposed to leave base for the rest of the night, right?” Denal asked, arms folded across his chest as they finished the last of the cleanup. “Guess we could play Sabacc or something back in the barracks?”

There were a few murmured agreements, and the 501st shuffled back towards the barracks. Rose was still thinking about the General, and had a bitter taste in his mouth. They hadn’t been doing anything wrong, really.

Was it such a crime to enjoy oneself? To simply exist?

Fives and Echo fell into step on either side of Rose, the ARC Troopers bracketing their Lieutenant. “I bet Echo and I could rebuild the radio.” Fives offered. “Might take a little bit, but even if we can’t, Kix is real good at bartering stuff down in the markets. Remember when he got us those HoloDisc movies for just a tube of bacta?”

“We could find another radio for you?” Echo suggested hopefully. “Or maybe,” he lowered his voice slightly. “Maybe Y/N could find you one?”

“Let it go.” Rose said, picking up the pace and pulling away from the ARC Troopers. They reentered the now far tidier barracks, and Rose gravitated back to his footlocker, starting to close it up and push it back under his bed. The metal clacked slightly against the edge of the bunk, and he paused, the tinny sound echoing in his ears.

He knocked the footlocker against the bunk again, listening to the little noise again.

Kark it. He was more than just a mindless flesh-droid. He was a person. A human being. And he liked music.

And he wasn’t about to let anybody take that away from him.

“I never got to do a song.” He announced, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips.

“You can’t be serious, sir.” Dogma said, shaking his head at him. “Haven’t we gotten in enough trouble?”

“I’m sure the General’s slithered back to the Temple by now, where he belongs.” Jesse replied, turning back to the Lieutenant. “We don’t have a radio anymore, sir.”

“We don’t need one.” Rose said, pulling his footlocker back out and propping up one leg on it. He tapped his foot against the metal, the rhythm settling, nodding his head along. He took a deep breath.

“Standing in the rain, with his head hung low. Couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show.”

Fives recognized the song, and started tapping his foot along, drumming his hands on an overturned weapons crate.

“Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene. Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream.” Rose climbed up onto the table. “He heard one guitar!”

Jesse slammed a bucket from earlier down against the supports of a bunk, the loud clang mimicking the strum of a guitar.

“Just blew him away. He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day, bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store. Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure, that one guitar!”

Another clang, this time from Kix repeating Jesse’s motion, and Echo, Denal, Coric and Fives were all drumming on overturned buckets and crates.

“Felt good in his hands! Didn’t take long to understand, just one guitar, slung way down low, was a one way ticket, only one way to go.”

Tup and Hardcase had picked up a brush – typically used for scrubbing their blasters and armor down – and were knocking it against the durasteel wall. Dogma had rounded up the others, a look of sheer determination on his face as they clamored around the bunks and tables, smacking their fists in rhythm with anything they could get their hands on.

“So he started rockin', ain't never gonna stop. Gotta keep on rockin', someday gonna make it to the top!”

Rose stomped his feet, and the rest of the 501st joined him for the chorus.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero!”

“He took one guitar,” Rose sang, while the rest of the battalion echoed “juke box hero, stars in his eyes” around him. “Juke box hero, he’ll come alive tonight.”

The singing quieted down, listening for a moment to see if anyone was coming, and Rose grinned, starting again and pitching his voice low.

“In a town without a name, in a heavy downpour, thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door.”

The clones took position, preparing to resume their makeshift instruments as Rose picked up in volume.

“Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain. And that one guitar, made his whole life change! Now he needs to keep on rockin', he just can't stop! Gotta keep on rockin', that boy has got to stay on top!”

Once again, shouts rang out as his brothers joined him for the chorus, their voices louder and more determined than ever, refusing to be silenced.

“And be a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. He's a juke box hero, got stars in his eyes. Yeah, juke box hero, stars in his eyes. With that one guitar, he'll come alive, come alive tonight.”

As they finished the song, Rose panted softly, glancing down at his commlink again. He decided he was going to go off base after all. He wanted to see you, and nobody, not his Captain’s orders, and definitely not some karking General like Krell, was going to stop him.

“Dismissed.” He said curtly, and took off out the door without another word.

SONGS USED (because they’re all bangers and you should listen to them):

The 501st (introduction): Hotel California Echo: Hooked on a Feeling Fives: Kickstart My Heart Kix: Sharp Dressed Man Jesse: You Give Love a Bad Name Coric and Denal: Come Sail Away Dogma: Zombie Tup: Dancing in the Dark Hardcase: Walk This Way The 212th and 501st: I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) The 501st (Canteen finale): Don’t Stop Believin’ Rose and the 501st: Juke Box Hero

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