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sundrop-writes · 7 months ago

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Announcing my new fic: Heaven's Gate

Heaven's Gate is a long oneshot starring Daryl Dixon and a gender neutral reader character, featuring angst, hurt and comfort, and some fluff.

NOW POSTED!!!!!

In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the prison is attacked by the Governor, and though you both believe the other person is dead, you two end up finding each other at the most unexpected time. This fic is about hope, the human connection, and how love is about more than romance - it's about how people take pieces of each other and grow with them, never truly able to forget each other.

This fic is going to be a longer oneshot that is currently about 15k long - and will likely be longer by the time it has gone through editing. It is 80% of the way done in my drafts (not including editing), and I hope to have it posted by April 30th - which is a tentative date that may change. If you want to know for certain when the fic is posted, you can follow me here and turn on notifcations or you can subscribe to me on AO3 to get an email notification when the fic is posted. I am really excited to share this fic with all of you 💖.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you wanna get a better sense for the upcoming fic you can read it. If you enjoy this preview and you're excited for what the fic holds, please let me know!

Also an important note: with my gender neutral reader fics, I don't use any references to gender whatsoever (this is not a 'GN afab' fic). And in this fic in particular, I didn't use any pronouns (other than you/yours) or gendered terms for the reader - and at points where the terms they/them were used, I made it purposefully vague so that the dialogue could be referring to the whole group as 'they' or just the reader. I want my gender neutral fics to be enjoyed by everyone - cis women, cis men, gender non conforming people, trans people - every kind of fanfiction reader.

I am making this post for two major reasons - one, I want to generate as much excitement for oneshots as there is for series. Especially for oneshots that are longer than 10k because those take a lot of time and effort. If a series is like a TV show, then long oneshots are like a feature film. And two - nobody seems to read my pinned post where I announce new upcoming fics anyway, so I might as well make posts like these so that people can know what to expect from me. And hopefully you guys will get excited about my upcoming fics this way. And when I tag these posts with the relevant tags, people interested in those topics can follow me to anticipate the fic if they want to read it.

Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader) - Preview

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: no pronouns used for the reader other than you/yours; there are major plot spoilers for The Walking Dead if you are watching the show for the first time - spoilers for Season 2 all the way up through Season 5; typical warnings for TWD - mentions of death, emotional despair; all of these themes and emotions are expanded upon in the full fic.

...

“Daryl!”

You called out his name as you jogged up toward the stables, and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to catch up with him.

“Daryl, hey.” You greeted him with a small smile. “Rick told me you’d be up here.”

He grunted in reply. “Yeah. ‘m gonna take a horse out. Make better ground t’ look for the girl.”

Your stomach clenched at him mentioning her.

The group was supposed to be headed out towards Fort Bennet - supposed to be finding refuge at the hopefully safe military base. Instead, you were all setting up camp at the very reluctant Hershel Greene’s farm, not straying too far from where you had lost one of your own in the hopes of finding her.

But that was why you had come to talk to Daryl in the first place.

Sophia had become like a sister to you in the few short months that you had known her, and though it was unlikely, you were hopeful that she was alive - that she would be found. And you did believe that Daryl would be the one to find her.

“How’s the trail?” You asked. “Do you think you know which way she headed? You - you can be honest with me.”

You hesitated on the last part. But you did want his honesty more than anything. And you knew that he was never one to sugar-coat things. Even if you hadn’t told him that, he would have given you the truth anyway.

“Trail’s a little muddy.” He said, doling out that honesty. “‘m gon follow the river. It’s her biggest landmark out there, so she’ll probably be somewhere around it.”

You smiled at him. And then, you remembered -

“I brought you something.” You noted, reaching for the back pocket of your jeans.

Daryl watched with quiet curiosity as you pulled out a piece of paper - when you showed it to him, he quickly realized that it was a half-used set of stickers.

“These are some of the stickers that I got for Sophia,” You explained. “My mom always used to tell me that cardinals are good luck.”

You peeled off a sticker of a bright red bird - as much of a nature man as he was, Daryl was never one for bird watching. He didn’t care about identifying certain species of birds unless he could shoot and eat them. But he quickly reasoned that this must be the cardinal that you spoke of.

“Give me your bow.” You said, shoving the rest of the sticker sheet into your back pocket again and holding out your hand expectantly.

“I don’t need no luck.” He replied, voice full of snark.

“Just give it.” You replied - equally snarky, equally stubborn.

Daryl sighed and tugged his bow’s strap over his head, presenting it to you. You placed the sticker on the bow’s handle, in one of the places where it wasn’t as worn down from him holding it.

“There,” You said, giving it back to him with a smile. “Now you’re all set.”

It was more for you than it was for him - a token of good faith and protection. The idea that you could do something to bring Sophia home when you felt so powerless.

Daryl let out a harsh sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sarcastic snort as he walked away. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You replied brightly, edging on sarcastic once again.

…

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth.

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done.

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’.

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning?

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently.

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism.

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you.

“Here.” He grunted at her.

Beth smiled at him.

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time.

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there.

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind.

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it.

For good luck.

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead.

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it.

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him.

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her.

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed.

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer.

He didn’t give her one.

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.”

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject.

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again.

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories.

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

…

“Can I see it again?” Beth asked, suddenly changing the subject.

Again, this was a confusing little whip for Daryl - something that clearly only made sense to Beth in her own drunken mind.

“See what?” Daryl replied.

“The picture.” Beth answered. “The one you tried to burn.”

Daryl felt a pinch of guilt surge over him at the thought. Oddly enough, this was the one time he would be willing to admit that Beth was right - you can’t burn up memories.

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it? That drew it.” Beth added on, her words slurring slightly - she lifted the mason jar of booze to her lips again and Daryl was tempted to snatch it away from her.

Instead, he found his hand drifting to his breast pocket and reaching to take the picture out. He presented it to Beth, who put down her drink to unfold it - she stared at the picture fondly under the brightness of the moonlight, tracing a finger over the slightly faded details.

“You know… my daddy used to tell me that a cardinal is like an angel.” Beth said, recognizing the bird from her father’s teachings on the farm. “Someone - someone you loved who passed away, watching over you from heaven.”

“Y/N said they was good luck.” Daryl replied.

Beth shrugged. “Same thing.”

It was this thought that kept Daryl going for a long time. The idea that even if you were dead, you were watching over him somehow. He sure as hell didn’t believe that someone like Merle would be an angel - but you, you definitely were. And even if it was a waste of your eternal life, you would be determined to watch over Daryl - to make sure that he was safe, well-guided.

You would make sure that he was lucky.

That thought alone carried him through the long journey to D.C.

It was something that lingered in his mind as the group hunkered down in a random barn - as he spotted something carved into one of the wooden beams holding the place up. Even though it wasn’t colored, he could have sworn that the long tail and pointed head of the silhouette indicated that the carving was meant to be cardinal. Of course.

Who knows who had stayed in the barn before them - if it had been left there by a weary traveler, or even put there by someone who had used the barn before the turn. But Daryl could have sworn that you - your ghost, your angelic hand - had led him to this very spot.

It was a thought that gave him strength as he held the doors up - helped to keep them from caving in while the storm raged outside.

Your luck, and your damn bird - you would keep him safe.

When they reached Alexandria, and they were forced to give up their weapons - Daryl spotted your bird perched on the fence. Bright red, with its pointy head cocked sideways at him. All too knowing, staring at him like it wanted to say something. Just like it had been when he had fallen off the cliff out in the woods when he had been looking for Sophia.

Oddly enough, it made him feel safe giving up his crossbow - perching it on top of the fully loaded cart of weapons before the awkward, bespeckled woman wheeled it away.

Rick was still weary of this new place after Terminus, and Daryl understood. He followed Rick’s lead. Especially because he couldn’t tell Rick that he had a good feeling about this place because he saw a damn bird.

But even if it was just in spirit, he felt you there. He knew that it was the home you had chosen for them.

#sundrop speaks #sundrop writes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x gn reader #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n

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musicallisto · 1 year ago

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𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨'𝐬 𝟏.𝟓𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 :: 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆

♡ : · • now playing... how you get the girl by taylor swift

hola guapas <3 no, your eyes are not deceiving you... clara's back in town with a follower celebration!! so much has happened since i left—i hit 1500 followers (which is an insane number, thank you guys so much!!), and i & this blog turned 21 and 6, respectively🩵 and how else can we celebrate this than by doing what I do best: throwing a party? sooo yeah, put on your cutest swimsuit, get your piña coladas ready, because we are pregaming on the beach <3

from nov 1st to nov 8th...

ੈ♡˳ reblog this post when you send one of these in¹!! so more people can join the party<3

ships!!! send me 🐚 + a description of you (gender preference, hobbies, personality, turn ons and offs, and any relevant info you want to include! the more detailed the better) + a fandom² = i will tell you who i ship you with & write a few headcanons about your relationship :)

playlists!!! send me 🌅 + a character + a scenario or relationship trope and I will make a little playlist and moodboard associated with it :)

playlists x2!!! send me 🥥 off anon and I will make a little playlist and moodboard based on how I see you or your blog :)

battle royale!!! send me 🦈 + a fandom and I'll spin a wheel to randomly select three characters and I'll tell you who I think would survive the longest in a death match. if you send no fandom i'll randomize my mutuals instead

((mutuals only)) simselves!!! this one's so self-indulgent but if you know me at all you know a core characteristic of my summers is spending 9 hours/day on the sims send me 🍍 + your ethnicity (just so i don't accidentally whitewash you or anything sob) and i'll create you in the sims!! or at least how i imagine you look based on your vibes lmao

go crazy and send as many as you want (in separate asks though, please)!

¹ it's really important you rb this post so more people can participate and i don't feel like a human flop pls & love you

² fandoms i will write for: formula one, stray kids, grishaverse, bridgerton, game of thrones, stranger things, the haunting (hh & bm), the hunger games, top gun, red dead redemption

tagging the girlies (gender neutral) because i love them @tsuncda @permanentreverie @eclliipsed @mishelin @cosmic-railwayxo @hotgirlsrk @catsbooksandmusic @starkeyslut @mgcldydrms @its-me-satine @margofiore @atlabeth @faerieroyal @softeninglooks @amirahiddleston @ughgclden @magpiencrow @heliads, @destourtereaux, @daydreaming-optimist

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cerealmonster15 · 9 months ago

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listen people can have their differing opinions that’s cool I just Personally Feel Like it’s just so mean to be yelling that feedback such as likes on posts and a kudos on fics are “useless”. What do u mean. Why. are ppl not expressing their feelings in a way that makes them comfortable ? ?

Like I Understand i guess in the sense of you don’t get to hear peoples opinions. I also feel kinda lonely and stuff when it’s quiet feedback but calling anything useless sounds so WEIRD to me ??? What is the goal. And also yea they do something still I’m pretty sure????

Take ao3. Isn’t sort by kudos an option on there? If your goal is to be seen more or whatever then if people are looking for high kudos fics, then people giving ur fic a kudos isn’t useless yeah??

And then tumblr. People keep saying “likes do nothing here there’s no algorithm” or whatever but that’s not really fully true. On your standard dashboard, sure, likes “don’t do anything” to move a post around on there. BUT that’s not the only place people find posts. If u are looking in the tags for posts, im p sure the default is to sort by popular posts. That’s, as far as I understand, a TOTAL NOTES count. Likes are included. Likes help ur posts her higher in that “popular” zone. I have several posts that have ended up in there in some small ship tags BECAUSE of all the likes, which does still have people seeing those posts now and then when they’re in the tag.

AND I’m pretty sure it’s a similar mechanic for the for you page. I’m sure we think people don’t use that feature but I’m pretty sure people do/ maybe new users. This is more of a theory on my part lol buttttt. I’ve noticed a few rare times where I’ve made an addition to a reblog on someone else’s post, there will be a stretch of time sometimes where random people that Do Not Follow Me keep liking/reblogging the post via my addition. WAY more times for it to just be a stray person wanting it from my addition without comments under (and I don’t think people do that when they’re only liking the post lol). And the few times I’ve accidentally had my for you tab on, I believe it does show via other people’s reblogs lol. So that’s just my way of saying total note count INCLUDING LIKES probably does put posts in peoples eyes on the for you tab / my experience tells me people do use that feature so it’s not just sitting there dusty lol.

Anyway I like mostly understand why people want reblogs and comments, like I do prefer them too bc I like when people tell me what they r thinking (however sometimes people do not add their thoughts in the tags either and that is just how it is!). And I also understand some people maybe just don’t know that others like that kind of feedback and need to hear it first to feel encouraged. I think I just personally do not like the tone that a lot of posts have when they talk about it. When ur calling likes useless bc idk it’s not the right kind of feedback u wanted so it’s inferior ?? 😭😭😭 I also feel like that intense vibe like, idk if this makes sense or if other people felt it too, but it negatively shifted my own perception too? Like. I thought likes were fine. But now with how intense people are about them and not meant if likes bc they just don’t count in ur eyes, now when people like instead of reblogging, I just think of all those posts and I’m like “hmm ok is my post bad did I make a bad post bc everyone says the likes aren’t good so if I’m getting likes I made A Bad Post. It’s Pity Feedback” <- which is SO unhealthy and also tbh has a lot more to do with my own issues that are just getting influenced here so it’s not all on those posts lol. I just Also Have Extra Issues 🫡

Ok jeeze I don’t wanna sound soap boxy tho so I’m NOT letting people rb this aJsndjfcjfjfjcjfj and ppl can absolutely have different feelings and opinions about the situation it’s fine. this is just. how I feel ✌️

#I don’t wanna invalidate how ppl feel about it #and I hope ppl won’t invalidate how I feel either lol …#it just makes me SAAAAAAD it bums me out #I dont wanna feel like it’s all a numbers game #I just wanna share sillies :(#IT JUST FEELS HARSH!!!!!#sometimes I like a post so I can reblog later with tags #but I don’t always remember to do it #and then I’ll see a post that’s like #YOU HAVE TO REBLOG DONT LIKE AND RUN #and then I’m like well. I was gonna like and come back #but o don’t want u to get mad at me #but I don’t have time to add tags rn #so I guess I will just not interact at all ????#it’s way too stressful. why are there RULES 😭😭😭😭#and this is all coming from someone who reblogs and comments like mad. I go crazy #I am not a likes and kudos only person lol #but. it is in defense of them. don’t we all share our love differently #is that a crime 😭😭😭😭#ok I’m fully distracted I gotta go bye

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exy-shmexy · 2 years ago

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Top 5 vs Personal 5

List your top 5 fics ranked by kudos on AO3. are you surprised by what's most popular to your readers? then provide your ranking of your personal top 5 fics, and tag a few fellow writers!

Thank you so much for the tag @fortheloveofexy <3

Tagging @halfpintpeach @brokenpinetree @desolatebee

One thing I want to say first is that I am so grateful for all the friends I have made thanks to all these fics. I have met some incredible people who supported me and offered me much-needed feedback when I needed it most so to each of you, thank you for absolutely everything.

TOP 5 (by Kudos)

Patchwork (2.3k, Andreil)

In this one, Andrew lets a bored Neil doodle on his legs, then decides to keep a permanent trace of it. I'm not gonna lie, I'm very surprised this is my number one. I love it dearly, mostly because it's basically just fluff and I'm a massive sucker for fluffy fics, but the fact it's ranking so high is funny to me. It's a little guy, but one I was very happy with in the end.

2. Of Detention and Passing Notes (7.2k, Andreil)

This one started off as a very silly tweet I posted about a High School AU where Neil meets Andrew in detention and bugs him by tossing paper notes on his desk. I had an absolute blast writing it! It's one of my first long-ish one shots so I was very happy with it at the time. Also I had to ask several people about actually getting into detention because I was too scared to get in trouble back in my high school days.

3. On The Road (1.8k, Andreil)

This is basically Neil getting horny while the team is on their way to an away game. I uh don't know what madness took over my brain for this one but you know what? It was fun to write c:

4. Let Our Hearts Do Their Part (8.1k, Andreil)

This... is not what it was originally supposed to be lmao I'm happy with it, but my brain kinda decided to go in a completely different direction than what I originally wanted, which is fine! Sometimes you have a plan but then along the way your idea strays away from it and another sprouts in its place.

5. As It Was (3k, Andreil)

Oof that's the very first fic I wrote for AFTG. It's a sick fic in which Neil gets the flu, is stubborn about it, so Andrew comes back to PSU to take care of him. I really like it, still now. I was sick myself when I wrote it and pretty mad about it so that was a good way to vent lol

PERSONAL 5

Paw and Order (ongoing currently 22k, Andreil)

This is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. This Cat Cafe AU has my entire heart, I absolutely love it and it is just so comforting to write. I have two chapters left to write for it and I'm excited to mark it as completed when the time comes for it although I will probably be sad about it because I just seriously love this silly thing so much.

TW for the paragraph below: mental health, depression, loneliness

Since this post is about being open about your writing, I have to admit that the first two chapters are very heavy on the angst because I was in a similar kind of mood as Andrew is in the beginning of this fic. I tend to get very lost in my own head, and it usually ends up in me feeling very lonely because my brain is great like that. Being able to project on Andrew (sorry my guy) was very helpful at the time. Me being me though, the next chapters get fluffier because even though I try to pretend that I'm a tough emo person, I'm secretly a softie but don't tell anyone. So yeah, this AU will forever have my heart.

2. Querencia (11k, Andreil)

Aw man okay another one I loved working on. To no one's surprise, this is also a very fluffy boy. Neil and Andrew go on a road trip together. This fic has a special place in my heart too for lots of reasons.

3. Snow Angels (1.6k, Aaron)

Listen, we've barely had snow over here. One morning I saw that one video of a dad teaching his kid how to do snow angels, and my brain ran with the idea. It's centered around Aaron because I just know he is the most amazing dad to his twin daughters. Also, they have a puppy.

4. Le Corbeau et le Renard (ongoing currently 40k, all the Foxes)

Basically everything is the same except Ichirou forces Jean to join the Foxes instead of the Trojans after TKM. I have SUCH a love-hate relationship with this fic. I think I was onto something when the idea popped into my brain, but as soon as I sit down to write it my brain just turns off. I like writing about Jean and his relationship with the Foxes, also all the tiny subplots sprinkled in-between, but sometimes I think I was perhaps a bit too ambitious.

Anyway, all of this to say I need to tame this beast and get back to it after I'm done with Paw and Order.

5. Licorice (1k, Andreil)

It's kinda funny because now that I thought about Patchwork again, these two have very similar vibes. I guess I just have a thing for Andreil, being alone in their dorm and some non-sexual intimacy.

#if you read all of this kudos to you I will forever admire you #the way I just decided to ramble on and on #but it was fun!#aftg #aftg fic

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thewardenofwinter · 1 year ago

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Hi Morana!

How are you doing? How is the writing going, what are you up to?

Greetings Sam, thank you so much for this ask! I've been meaning to do a little update for a while and this gives me a perfect excuse lol

On life (tw for mentions of illness):

It's still very hectic at the moment which hasn't really allowed me time to pursue any creative avenues. I've been fighting off various illnesses since my younger brother started school because my immune system isn't used to all the germs he's around, including covid and strep, and on top of that there was a West Nile Virus outbreak in my state which my mom ended up catching and had to be hospitalized for a few days but she's doing a lot better now. We still have not found a place to live yet, but we managed to finagle two more months from our landlords to find a place since moving during the summer is damn near impossible when they rack up the prices and everything is being taken. There's also a lot going on in my more personal life that's left me quite stressed and lethargic. A little bright side though is that we also found two itty bitty stray kittens under a house and I had to take care of them for almost 2 weeks, but they ended up getting adopted which is great! They were both very cute gray tabbies like their mom, and they were technically my other cat Ivan's half-siblings. I've also got a queens of the stone age and hozier concert coming up soon which i am SO hyped for, my entire life has been In Times New Roman and Unreal Unearth for the past weeks.

On writing:

In the past few days, I've finally found some peace to write and draw some. I've been mainly focusing on The Resurrectioners and trying to get at least 50k words by the end of October. I've also been outlining The Stray Girls and trying to work on a cover in Photoshop (which i got recently totally legally, but i usually just use Clip Studio). I've sort of put What We Undertake on the backburner for now, it's not that i don't want to work on it or am burnt out, it's just that I'm not nearly as passionate about furthering the plot like I am with The Resurrectioners. I've sort of fallen into a hole of mythology and folktales about necromancy trying to learn more about the history behind its representation.

I've also gotten back into drawing now that I've actually had time to do so lol. Here’s some drawings I’ve gotten done recently!

(in order from left to right: Nazriya from The Resurrectioners, Circe from Give No Quarter, A quick sketch of Zekiah from The Resurrectioners, and a face study of Charlie Hunnam)

I've also put off studying Russian for a month or so and am trying to get back into my one-hour-a-day studying routine I had previously which is taking a toll on me to be honest lol. I bought the Curse of the Pharaohs DLC for AC Origins and I've also started to play Assassins Creed: Liberation for the first time and so far I'm loving both. I can't believe some people say it's the worst installment. I'm working on Aveline fanart as we speak.

But yeah! There's a little update, I'm going to be posting some of my writing soon/doing a few tag games to get back into the groove of things so watch out for those. Thanks again Sam for checking up on me and sending the ask!

#morana's maundering #morana post at a normal time challenge (impossible)#writing updates #life updates #current wip

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gianttunaring · 2 years ago

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Just wanting to respond to your tags - I very much get where you're coming from, and I do want to clarify that I don't think the zero follower blog out there that sometimes says "I hate men" when frustrated is doing this. I don't believe a blame-based frame of mind is very helpful when trying to solve problems like these; blame tends to play into a cognitive bias where we point a finger at people rather than at patterns or behaviors, and every person is gonna get frustrated sometimes. It's even kind of a joke for gay guys to say, "Ugh, men are pigs" and such things. But these kids? I have met these kids, and they are not okay, and I DO see people talk DIRECTLY TO THEM THIS WAY. Not just random people, but friends. And not just friends, but often kids with disabilities like depression, or kids who live in poverty - kids who do not have the language to say what's wrong with their lives yet. And algorithms are a huge, and probably the biggest part of it, but algorithms don't make people directly talk to their friends this way; normalization of the behavior does. It's worth saying that the one form of oppression i see continually ignored when it comes to white boys is ablism. White boys are not supposed to be disabled, ever. White boys are not supposed to have depression that tells them they shouldn't even be alive, and if that's what they hear when somebody says, "Ugh, I wish all white boys would just die already," it is somehow never read as ablism to say, "well, he shouldn't take it that way. The world was made for him, so he should just cheer up and stop being an ass." If you're screaming into the void, or talking with friends for support, that's one thing. If you're making "This type of person is bad regardless of behavior or other factors" part of your every day speech, there are going to be consequences. And unfortunately, I do see that happen all too often. I've had friendgroups split because of it.

I see, I understand your point better now! I took your argument in bad faith and I completely agree, acting like a demographic is inherently bad does something to kids who have little understanding or stake in learning about the oppression of others. A part of me felt frustrated because lots of people in the tags of that post kept talking about how “the left doesn’t provide resources for these young men” which just doesn’t feel… true? (see: content creators like hbomberguy, contrapoints, philosophytube, fdsignifier, etc., people who care enough to break this shit down) And so often political movements shift to center whiteness (cough cough white feminism) that it’s sometimes difficult to see posts that “sympathize” (or at least humanize) those who often dehumanize people of color. As someone who’s felt stereotyped and objectified by my peers because I’m a person of color by a bunch of white kids, it’s hard to not see that post and not have alarm bells go off, but there’s clearly more nuance in the points they’re trying to make. I’m straying from the point. At the end of the day, kids need sympathy and understanding and care.

I think a part of it, at the end of the day, has to do with how political movements are branded into “left versus right” like there aren’t different sides to how identity politics affects people? Like, it is completely performative to act like the 6th grade white boy who genuinely seems to respect his peers is someone that should be blamed for an entire demographic’s oppression, and adults shouldn’t act that way towards a kid. Racism is still seen as some sort of “inherent evil” or whatever that means. And yeah, it is more productive to shift more focus towards how patterns of thinking and behavior affect and uphold systemic injustice.

All this talk reminds me of this Tiktok (ik that sounds bad but please bear with me) I saw of this person talking about the ways communities are defined, like how ones more centered on the validity of an identity will always turn against itself (posted below)

And the creator points out a lot of flaws with the ways “community” is defined. You see this everywhere with shit like the “he/him lesbians” debate (non-binary lesbians exist) or “are ace/aro people a part of the queer community” and other pointless infighting that I don’t have the energy to get into.

Thank you for being civil with me, and I apologize for dumping all of that into the tags of your post. Have a good day/night/afternoon!

#also if the Tiktok creator ever sees this I can take this post down if they don’t want their content here ig #archive

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breeze-of-sunlight · 10 days ago

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Yeah, that's a very valid observation. I'm the first to admit I don't really reach out to people the way I used to. Adulting leaves me with less energy as compared to when I still had the time to properly do so after school. Although I do try to add little bits in the tags when I reblog fandom stuff (more consistently happening via my side-blog instead of this one, though.) As a creator, however, I'm super guilty of rarely answering any comments I get in my tags. It just feels kinda odd to, in a way?

Like, let's take this for example: (Mel, please take no offense for using you as an example in case you see this! I love you and I'm always super happy to see you in our notes 🖤)

Am I immensely grateful for the reblog and commentary? Yes! I love reading other ppl's thoughts on my stuff. Do I know how to respond to this without making it weird? Not really. If I were to reply smth like "Thank you! 🖤 @/personWhoCommented" it would feel like fishing for interaction / praise, especially when you do it multiple times under one post or group together multiple people in one answer? I'm just unsure and don't want to annoy people via tagging them everytime they leave something nice in the tags. (Was that making any sense? ^^')

Speaking of community ties tho: may I add an observation I made in the Stray Kids community?

Because over the last two months I noticed how much it can help to have a few blogs that act as "transit points" (as weird as that may sound right about now). They have wide ranges of network blogs, which are dedicated to either singular members or certain member constellations, allowing users to subscribe to a steady feed of content about their bias(es) and also helps creators by spreading their stuff around. And there are also creator blogs, who have their very own specialized tag like @/chanrizard and @/wolfchans. So while they are most prominently gifmakers, they also work like a semi-network, by queueing in stuff that gets tagged via their personal tag and reblogging works that they find independently of it. As a result covering a lot of fanworks. Just a few days ago I watched a fan art that had been online for 9 months double its notes in 24 hours because it was rebloged by one of them and thus presented on a silver plate to people who don't scavenge the tags and instead rely on those blogs.

And I think us exols could also really profit from networks and tagging systems. Just a central point dedicated to purely exo content, where you can scroll through works you might have otherwise missed. Because in my humble opinion: I don't have the energy anymore to scroll through the independent tags on a daily basis and being "summoned" by the creators themselves could really help make it easier to get in touch? I know we have the exosnet and suhosnet already, and if we got better at using those more consistently, I really think this could help?

Sorry for the rambling, hah ^^' That's just an observation, how do you feel about this?

But to answer your last question: I think we could set the events / promt weeks up similarly like @/cultofdionysusnet. (nsfw warning for that blog but not the post I'll link here): https://www.tumblr.com/cultofdionysusnet/714045057798389760/meet-me-under-the-cherry-tree-spring-event?source=share

They give out a theme and a deadline and then link everything together under a masterpost, so no post is overlooked due to the creator being new / tumblr being weird and not properly displaying the post. Obviously we shouldn't apply the "must be a member" rule, but otherwise I think that could work out nicely, especially if we tied it to a blog that regularly hosts events (maybe convince a network blog to host them, or make a new network dedicated to such events? Similar to your event blog?)

I'm open for discussion and super interested in making this a thing™ I know I was always most motivated when we set up concept projects and themes for ourselves on our kpop blog.

Of course this shouldn't be your bruden to carry alone! I think you're 100% right about people being more likely to hype each other up if they get to bond over their works.

This is all just a string of incoherent thoughts I have on this. Hoping you get something useful out of this ^^'

So I can't be the only one who's noticed the decline in fanmade exo content here on Tumblr. We've gone from a fandom who's new posts could be measured in hours to a fandom who's posts have days....to weeks....to months....to even years for some specific tags.

We have had 6 solo album comebacks this year, 3 fancon tours, 2 solo concert tours, a myriad of festival concert appearances, youtube videos, magazine shoots, instalives, etc. Yet if you go to the exo tag it's mainly populated by archive blogs. And the nude bots, which....that's a whole other problem on its own. I digress. My point being, the tags, at least from what I've seen (I admit I haven't looked into the shipping tags) are being filled by the same handful of blogs yet given the high amount of source material, no one seems to be doing anything with it beyond archiving it.

Again this could just be because I didn't delve too deep or too far back, but it does have me wondering if part of the reason participation this year was down was simply because there's hardly anyone left.

There's been instances in the past where others have attempted to inject new life into the fandom so to speak, with....varying...level of success. The exo revival project being the first and most successful that comes to mind. I'm wondering what everyone else's thoughts are on the matter and if holding new fandom events might be a way to involve more people year round because I really do want to continue holding this event next year but if things keep going the way they have been there won't be anyone signing up.

Let me know what you think, ideas you might have, reblog this and tag your mutuals to get them involved in the discussion. I have a few ideas that I've pilfered from other fandoms, watch alongs. Fic bingo. Theres valentines exchanges. Fandom sleepovers. Heck I'd set up a Tumblr based scavenger hunt if I thought people would play. Like....we dont have to be monoliths in a placid sea of we don't want to. Fandom can be fun. It should be fun.

#exo

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olderthannetfic · 2 years ago

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Two of the recent asks on your blog just made me realise how fucking EXHAUSTED I am of of all the "boy who cried wolf" and "boy who vaguely heard about a stray dog looking for food in their area and decided it was obviously an invasion of rabid wolves" situations on this website, and in fandom in general.

I hate that my first thought when someone on anon talks about being groomed as a minor by an older person who "let" them interact with their nsfw fanworks, is "let me guess, is this gonna turn into a spiel about how because minors often ignore warnings and can't be trusted not to lie about their age to strangers online, everyone who posts nsfw anywhere but on places you need to be given a password or to pay actual money to access is a pedophile?" Because I've already seen every possible version of "checking out the rating, warnings, and tags and clicking "proceed" when the "this work could contain adult content" thing shows up isn't the same as consenting to see adult content" and I'm fully prepared for the day when we all get hit with "if you're an adult and don't have Minors DNI in all your social media profiles and your fandom accounts you're clearly a predator.""

And I hate that my first thought when someone on anon talks about being uncomfortable with some literature classic and getting told they're just too sensitive or equated with pro-censorship people is, "yeah, well, assuming it really went like that, people ARE gonna be on the lookout for the next big clout-chasing "Mark Twain was a horrible racist bastard for not foreseeing how the English language would evolve and not using words appropriate for a modern audience so having students read Tom Sawyer in school is basically a hate crime" or "there is sexist content in 1984 which means George Orwell was a pretentious hack with nothing of value to say about society or politics" thing, or the next person saying "Emily Bronte was just some idiotic romance-addicted white woman trying to pass a toxic abusive relationship as Twu Wuv" and proclaiming themselves the one lonely enlightened feminist in the land, or the next fic writer "Dante was just some racist homophobic creep who wrote some weird Bible fic so his blatant Self Insert could keep on harassing the girl he was obsessed with even after her death" to prove they're so forward-thinking and original and deserve to be regarded as a BNF defending fandom as a whole against the hordes of evil literature professors supposedly out to destroy it... I mean, this is the website that came up with "don't use a quote about Orestes and Pylades for your OTP because that's an incest" and "gay men shouldn't call themselves Achillean because Achilles and Patroclus might have had a pederastic relationship" yet worship Sappho as this relatable quirky wlw icon without giving a single fuck about the fact that she might be the one surviving example we have of institutionalized female pederasty, and I'd trust it to fall for a whole new MedievalPOC scam before I'd trust it to give a nuanced take on any kind of literary work, ESPECIALLY any literary work older than the early 2000s."

Sometimes I just feel the wolf could be right there howling at my door and I'd probably just say "ugh, great, those stupid kids got into my brain enough that now I can't even go about my day without imagining that there's a fucking wolf howling for no reason" and not even check out of the window. Or I'd check and still assume the wolf is just a big dog even then.

It's a genuine problem. Because there are still predators out there.

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forestlingincorporated · 3 years ago

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History of Catlad in DC fandom

So, I noticed a fair number of people asking where the Catlad idea originated.

...Yeah, I can’t tell you that, with certainty. Catlad was already a “thing” when I joined the fandom. But it made me curious, so I did a little digging.

Seemingly, the first his for the term “catlad” initially appeared to be February of 2012. However, trying to find very old tumblr posts is a nightmare, which is where I suspect it originated, so I went to the next logical place - AO3.

The EARILIEST fics for Catlad!Tim are actually post-dated to 2005 (we know it’s a postdate because AO3 wasn’t created until 2008). The first one, Forty Thieves credits the Timfinity challenge on livejournal as the original reason behind the fic. He’s actually not called Catlad or Stray in this one, he’s called the Cat, just to add another to the growing list of varying codenames this one AU has, lmao.

In the Catlad tag sans any particular batboy, the earliest is credited as based off of heartslogos’ Catlad AU, but after scouring their tumblr, I wasn’t able to find a post suggesting they started the au, just that they were a prolific writer and supporter of it on tumblr.

I even made sure to check the other boys’ tags, but Tim is definitely the originator. All the other brothers’ catlad tags only go back to 2015, which is a bit odd, to be honest. I’d have to assume there may have been a spike in Catlad!Tim visibility in that year or something to inspire the others.

Now... where did this concept come from. I wasn’t able to find the original posting for the 2005 fic, so, you know, idk. It seems to have been a subset of TimKon fics initially, as well as gen/found family fics.

As someone who likes this AU, while Tim might not be anyone’s initial choice as Catwoman’s sidekick (Jason comes to mind as the obvious street kid who’d fit her schtick, and then Dick is viewed as more of the ‘sexy one’, and Damian... well, likes cat) I personally think this au took off (aside from being an excuse for sexy times in catsuits) for two reasons:

One: Tim is more... segmented with his personality than other characters are. If you read his comics, Tim is often depicted as not viewing himself AS Robin, rather he sees Robin as a role he plays, like an actor. The idea is appealing because it takes Tim’s tendency to “put on” the Robin persona and “become” Robin to a further extreme - Catlad is about as far from Tim’s civilian personality as you can get, so the change is more dramatic and obvious. This is one for the identity porn fans out there.

And two: Tim kind of imprints on people? He just sort of imprints on Dick and Batman as a three-year-old and it maps out his entire life from there. I know some people have a hard time seeing Tim as a thief, but Tim honestly tends to use external influences, like Bruce or the Titans, as his moral compass, and Tim has been shown multiple times to go full dark side For The Greater Good villain when those influences are ripped out from under him, and he’s also more willing to bend the rules when his persona isn’t as a hero (like his arc as Red Robin, which he saw as a ‘tainted’ mantel). It’s not hard for me to imagine a world where he imprints on Selina at a young age for one reason or another and just... uses her as his moral compass, and is okay breaking the law because that’s the persona he’s chosen to adopt as part of what he sees as a greater good. Is it a big change, yes, but it’s not strictly out of character, and that’s sort of the nature of big turning point AUs.

But, that’s just my guess. Maybe’s it’s just that he looks pretty in the costume, but it clearly resonates with people for one reason or another. That’s just my take on why it works well, but someone who sees Tim differently might disagree.

#tim drake #catlad

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

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subtle | 2 | Shouto Todoroki/Reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,265 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

notes: Hi all! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm posting a follow up chapter because so many people asked for it in my inbox. It's completely unedited because I just decided to write it today, and I wanted to get it up before the holiday was over! I promise I will come back and edit at some point in the next few weeks.

No one had come for the box.

You’d made a point to be out of your office as much as possible throughout the day, leaving plenty of opportunity for whoever the sender was to sneak back in and correct their mistake. But every time you reentered the room, there the box was, crowning a pile of your paperwork like a coronet of ineptitude.

You’d checked in with Shouto several times as well, anxious to learn whether or not he’d overheard anything as he changed out of his uniform from patrol, but he proved just as unhelpful as he’d been earlier this morning. He simply leaned towards you, looking almost conspiratorial--spiking both your heart rate and your hopes--only for him to murmur in his low voice, “No one is coming for it.”

Which was so fucking unhelpful.

So you’d set about the office yourself, lingering hopefully on the fringes of people’s conversations, peering about for clues on the agency staffer’s desks, but there was nothing to give the sender away, no whispered snippet of conversation or receipt laying amongst some expense sheets. You might have resorted to sifting through people’s garbage cans, if only Shouto hadn’t taken to suddenly appearing wherever you were investigating, watching you with a wry little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You knew he hadn’t the slightest modicum of romantic interest in you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to witness you digging through people’s garbage either. That would have to wait until you could get him out of the building.

Which was also proving to be an impossible endeavor. He usually had a habit of lingering after his shift, coming into your office to make queries about one thing or another that almost always devolved into conversations deeply unrelated to work. But today he was especially resistant to leaving, seeming content to lounge around in the chairs you’d set out for clients, draping one distractingly muscled arm across the backs and watching you intently with those heterochromatic eyes.

“Shouto, get out of my office,” you hissed, coming back in at the end of the day to find him still in one of the chairs, his phone clutched in those long fingers.

He glanced up at you, eyes fastening to your features in that attentive way he had. “I work here.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” you asked, trying to suppress a small spike of irritation with him. “Because it looks like you’re scaring off the box sender to me. How are they supposed to sneak in here and take it back if their boss is looming in here like their worst nightmare?”

Shouto looked unconcerned. “I’m not.”

“Not what?” you asked. Maybe he wasn’t their worst nightmare, but being caught by your boss in the middle of correcting a romantic mishap was probably at least a nightmare.

“Not scaring anyone off,” he said, putting his phone away into his pocket. “I know who the box belongs to.”

You stopped short, your attention snapping fully towards him. A thrill of excitement went down your spine, even as regret poured through you. A little part of you had maybe hoped you would end up getting to eat the chocolates, even if they weren’t yours. But this was good news.

“You do? Why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded.

Yor feet guided you to the chair where he sat, and you stood, looking down at him expectantly. He watched you through his long lashes, eyes glinting strangely.

“It’s mine,” he said finally, after a moment that stretched long and slow, like warm taffy.

Your breath caught in your chest, a swell of confusion rising within you. The box was his?

Was he being truthful or was this another attempt to make you take it? Why would he have tried to make you think it was from a secret admirer, then? Why have let you run around all day, attempting to find the sender, if the chocolates had been his all along? Unless...

Unless he was embarrassed. You didn’t know why he might have left them in your office, but you suspected maybe force of habit had drawn him here. Maybe he was operating on autopilot after his distracting shift this morning, since he usually spent so much time in your office, and then you’d come in to find them before he’d had a chance to realize it. And the rest had been history.

But then that begged the question of who he’d really meant them for--your heart sank as the thought occurred to you.

Obviously, you had known since you’d first met him that he wasn’t interested in you. You’d spent years with your thoughts all muddled around him, quelling every blush, never straying into his personal space or staring at him longer than was appropriate. You’d been so, so careful around him, but you’d never had any indication that Shouto was as careful around you. On the contrary, he was always calm and intent--he never looked away from you in a fit of bashfulness the way you had him, and he seemed to have no qualms about getting into your personal space, leaning over you as you looked through reports together, putting a hand on your back to guide you through publicity events.

So yeah, you had known he was basically immune to you. You had known it for a long time. But it still smarted to think of him giving that box to someone else.

God, how embarrassing for you. How mortifying, really, that Shouto had been thinking of someone else all those days that you had been nursing your crush on him.

But you were a professional, you could deal with this.

All you had to do was play it cool, give him back the box and laugh it off like it hardly affected you. And then you could head back to your apartment and binge ice cream and be all wistful and embarrassing for one evening. You could allow yourself that before you had to come back and be doubly professional, smile and congratulate whichever analyst or support staffer or fellow hero had caught his interest.

You could be happy for him. You’d miss the chocolates though.

Drawing yourself together, you looked down at him, pulling out a small but genuine smile. Shouto was your friend, and he was going to nail it with whoever the box was meant for--you could give him your support. But then Shouto was unfolding himself out of the chair, standing up so he could look down into your face, taking a step closer to you.

You tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his sudden proximity, the hint of his clean cologne and the lick of warmth coming off of his left side.

“They’re, uh, they’re yours?” you managed, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You are in such big trouble for coming in here and peddling conspiracy theories instead of owning up to it. You at least owe me a coffee for being such a brat.”

Shouto watched you quietly, saying nothing.

“But we can hash that out later,” you said, waving what you hoped was a casual hand at him. “You need to move quickly. You should try to catch whoever you meant these for before they leave--daytime shift is over in a couple minutes.”

Shouto’s brows knitted, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “You still think they’re not for you,” he said.

It took a minute for you to register the words he’d spoken. The comment struck you dumb when you did, a thrill of disbelief going through you. Was he trying to be tactful now? Now, of all times?

“Shouto, seriously, you can make it up to me later. This is not the time to fuck around, the day’s almost over,” you said.

His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to you, close enough that you could feel him exhale. You took a step back in surprise, your hip bumping your desk.

“You promised me,” he said in his deep voice, “that if no one came looking for them by the end of the day, you would take them.”

You stared up at him, your mind churning wildly with all kinds of insane thoughts, wild insinuations that brought heat to your face. He absolutely could not mean what you thought he meant.

There was literally no way.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” you admitted. “But if you’re telling me I can take them just because you promised them, I don’t want them. I think you should give them to who you meant them for.”

That wry little smile played about his mouth again, and Shouto took another step closer. The back of your thighs dug into your desk and you wobbled, putting a hand down to keep your balance.

“To think I trust you with my career,” Shouto intoned, ducking his head to look into your face. You felt the heat of his left arm at your side as he placed it gently on your desk, caging you in. “Let me be plain, then. I did give them to who they were meant for.”

Your cheeks went hot, both with his proximity and the implied insult. But the rejoinder died on your tongue as the implication of his last few words sank in.

He had meant them for you? Shouto Todoroki, number four hero, your coworker of several years and your most patient, attentive, and mind-numbingly handsome friend, had gone to Grégoire Chardin, for Valentine’s Day chocolate, thinking--of all people--of you?

For a moment, it felt like the earth was sliding out from under your feet, but then you realized it was just you, tipping backwards on your desk. Your elbow banged into the side of the chocolate box, and you accidentally sent a small pile of papers fluttering over the side of your desk. You cringed, embarrassed, but then Shouto was over you, both arms braced on either side of your head.

“You don’t need to accept them if you don’t want,” he said quietly, watching your face. The intensity of his focus made your head swim, and you tried to focus on what he was saying, rather than the shape of his mouth as he spoke, the heat from his skin. “But I wanted you to know. I like you.”

You gaped at him, the words feeling like they were embedding themselves in your brain.

“You...like me?” you echoed in disbelief.

Shouto grinned, the expression so disarmingly charming that even your nose went hot. “Yes. Very much.”

A swell of emotions welled up inside you, like the unstoppable tide of a coastal flood, and you were gripped with the sudden desire to lean up and kiss him, to press your mouth to his and see if he meant it, if any of what he’d just said to you could possibly be real. Suddenly, that was the only thought in your entire brain.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” you heard yourself utter stupidly.

You hesitated for just a second, realizing that maybe you should pinch yourself first to see if this was actually happening, but then Shouto was already there, covering your mouth with his.

His kiss was hot and soft and utterly perfect, and very quickly there were no thoughts in your brain at all, nothing but the feel of him over you, one muscled thigh pressing insistently between yours, his long fingers tangling gently in the hair behind your ear. You clutched him to you tightly, an embarrassing little sound escaping you, and Shouto groaned, pressing more of his weight down on you, licking firmly into your mouth.

You were half-delirious with the feeling of him by the time he let you up for air, and you could feel yourself grinning like an absolute fool.

“I had a secret admirer,” you said. “You were being serious.”

Shouto smirked, leaning in to press a hot kiss to your throat. Your thighs clenched involuntarily. “Yes, I had been secretly admiring you for a while.”

For some reason, the words embarrassed you, and you tucked your face into his broad shoulder. “I...this is so embarrassing. I’ve been...admiring you, too.”

You heard Shouto huff a soft laugh, and then his calloused fingers were gripping your chin, angling your face back towards him so he could seize your mouth again. You went slack and pliant underneath him, enjoying the press of his mouth on yours, your toes curling when he did something particularly talented with his tongue.

“I did tell you,” Shouto said after a while, pulling back, one of his hands gripping your thigh.

“Tell me what?” you asked absently, wondering how you could get his mouth on yours again.

His eyes caught yours, the blue of his left glittering at you conspiratorially. “That I could be subtle.”

You laughed, feeling stupid--but more than that, flushed and completely pleased. You didn’t know if subtle was exactly the right word, but you weren’t going to argue specifics at the moment. “I guess you can be. Though you might have been a little bit more overt before now.”

“Then if you don’t mind,” Shouto said after a while, something like amusement in his voice, “I’d like to take you home and admire you quite overtly now.”

You were answering before he could even finish. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Shouto laughed again, smoothing a large palm down your side.

And then he did. And not even chocolates from Grégoire Chardin could compare.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shouto todoroki x reader

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rowansparrow · 3 years ago

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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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