#a snippet of a song scratched my brain so good

[ressioo]

Can we get lore, please? Looks at you with wet eyes/j

A friend turned stranger. When did that comforting presence become something to be feared?

This took a while to answer, sorry about that! But here you go. This is much further along the timeline than literally any other lore thing i did

Sig is Not having a good time

[athforskz]

More Random Ult Kpop Group Questions: SKZ Version!

I did something like this a while ago when I first started this blog. So it’s time for another round! Questions below the cut I'm marking as MDNI. Like before, feel free to use this template of questions for your own ult group & tag me (and some friends if ya like). I love to see everyone’s responses 🤗

Dumbest thing you believed as a new fan?

Oof… there’s a few things I fell for as a baby stay, technically I still am a baby stay I think, BUT here’s my uhhh list: 

I thought Hyunjin had an identical twin brother.. 🫣 wait WAIIIT before you come at me, there was a rumor/joke going around at the time and obviously I didn’t know any better, so I believed it. There were even really good edits of Jinnie and his “twin” too. Then when I watched interviews where Hyunjin said he was an only child I was like ???? but eventually I figured it out.

I thought the sunshine twins were legitimately twins (they are) . Like biologically. Wtf is up with me believing twin things??

At first, I could NOT for the life of me tell the difference between Lee Know and Jeongin. No joke thought they were the same person. Which looking back on this one… how could I ever have trouble with them? They literally look nothing alike in facial structure and sound completely different in the way they talk & sing. Only thing they’re the same in is their menace behavior. 

2. Favorite duo/ship?

Usually not a shipper type of person but in regard to favorite friendship dynamic in skz, it’s gotta be SeungChan. Just watch this and there’s my reason why. Jilix is a close second because, again, sunshine twins. Followed by MinChan because watching Lee Know with his only hyung is so precious.

3. Favorite Racha (or other mini group within the whole group)? 

MeanRacha (Minho, Seungmin, & I.N) One of these 3 is literally always up to something. Causing chaos when you least expect it. The phrase “Lee Know is linoing” has become a favorite of mine because it always means he’s doing some menace antics again.

4. Favorite unreleased song?

There was a song that Hyunjin and Chan recorded years ago that Chan supposedly lost. We got a snippet of it and when I heard it I went feral because like Red Lights part 2???! PLEASE I NEED THIS SONG LIKE I NEED AIR! Chan like wtf do you mean you lost the track?! FIND IT. RECORD IT AGAIN. 

Also, all the solo performances they did at the opening concert in Seoul for the DominATE tour. Yeah, I need all those unreleased songs to be RELEASED right tf now. Give us another Replay album! And Chan… ykw let me shut up and be good for once, but I just wanna say THE GRASS AINT WORKING 

5. Favorite old song of theirs? Favorite song from their most recent project?

HEYDAY by 3racha. The whole song is a vibe but Jisung’s lazy rap when he first starts his part just does something to me 😩 

In regard to the whole group, I’d say the song 'YAYAYA' is one of my go-to jams from their older stuff. I love the tempo changes, scratches my brain in a good way.

Now as for the new album “ATE” this may be controversial to say but “I like it” is my favorite. It’s just so catchy!

6. Has your bias/bias line changed?

Since the last time I did this, yes and no? I mean as I’ve grown more as a stay I can confidently say OT8! But if I was forced to choose I say Hyunjin no surprise there and Minho.

7. What about your wreckers?

Chan continues to wreck me every. single. day. Like it’s truly insane, that man KNOWS what he’s doing. I’d also like to add that I.N has been wrecking me left and right the last few months which I blame his hyungs for that. 

NOW FOR THE UNHINGED QUESTIONS!

Please skip this portion if it makes you uncomfortable. This is the delulu brain talking. 

8. Which member are you attracted to the most physically? What about emotionally?

Physically I’m going to say OT8! Like have you seen those MEN?! I would be lucky to even get a crumb from them like bffr. Changbin, Hyunjin & Minho

Emotionally probably Changbin & Chan. From the glimpses we get of their true feelings & perspectives on things I relate to them the most. Honorable mention for this one will be Hyunjin because he’s such a romantic and I wanna say Seungmin too. I feel like before we didn’t get to see a lot of Seungmin ‘off camera’ per se, but with his [Song by] series we get to see more of his real personality and thoughts.

9. If you ever actually had the chance, who do you think you’d work out in a long-term relationship with (please remember the first rule of Kpop)? 

Probably, Changbin. Mans is a walking green flag. He’s a good listener, considerate of other’s feelings while still being honest. Always there for you. Funny af too. Overall, considering how I am as a person I think, Changbin would just be a good match for me. Like in my delulu brain me and Binnie would have that friends to lovers trope going for us. Even my dearest honey bun thinks so, she did write about it for me afterall💕 

10. A favorite kink of yours and member to fit that kink?

To keep it somewhat light in the kink department I’m going to go with hands. And a member to fit it the best, aka who I think has the most attractive hands will go to Jeongin. Innie has giant and such well structured hands. Rings sit so pretty on his fingers too which makes me feral. Like AHHDKSISVJKDW please grip my wrists and throat sir! *ahem* I mean, please let’s hold hands 🫶🏽 

Honorable hands mention will go to Minho because the veins on that man’s hands are just so ✨🥴

11. Favorite sluttiest choreography/move they’ve done?

Damn do I have a lot for this one *cracks knuckles*

The choreo for Silent Cry. Need I say more?

Anytime Hyunjin body rolls

Every single hip thrust/roll from Minho

The “POPPIN 🗣️” part in Maniac, especially when Binnie does it.

That one part in Charmer. Y’all know exactly what part I’m talking about.

Red lights. Need I say more, pt 2

The entire choreo for Taste. Bonus points to Minho when he did the special stage where he’s fucking hip thrusting from the side (I hope y’all know which one I’m mentioning here)

12. Most unhinged fic or edit you have enjoyed of them?

There’s a lot for this question too but I’ll keep it short. I’ll start with unhinged fics. I enjoy dark themes because let’s face it. Trauma. Please be warned these fics aren’t for the faint of heart, so if you read them, be warned. Some are lighter than others, but please read warnings!

Game Over feat. Seungmin & I.N by @sanakimohara

Games feat. I.N by @dandelions-143

Chemical Infatuation feat. Han by @hanjisick

ABANB series feat. OT8! by @doitforbangchan

The SKZ House series feat. Chan & Hyunjin by @writeonwhiskey

As for edits, there are even more that I enjoy. But I’ll only choose 1 for the sake of time and it’s only letting me attach one video.

Alright, that’s it! Thanks for reading if you stuck it out this far! I really didn't intend for it to be this long but it was so fun that I got carried away. Now for tags, I’ll go with my typical beautiful babes @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @torialefay + anyone else who wants to join!

[rebelrebelwrites]

Did someone already ask about Oak Park for the WIP game?

They did not, and I appreciate you asking! Summoning all of my emotional fortitude to answer this because hello anxiety (cue the Jason Isbell song), but this one is my current WIP; an original novel.

The Summary: Historical preservationist Charlotte Harper accepts an assignment in Oak Park, Illinois to authenticate an unprecedented find: letters found between famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright's first wife, Catherine, and his most maligned (and first female) employee, Marion Mahony. When the letters stand to prove that much more was between the two women than previously believed, Charlotte sets out to unravel the true history... the only thing standing in her way? Sam, the self-satisfied but infuriatingly charming preservation carpenter on the project, who found the letters in the first place.

The Gist: A story told in 2 parts—of self-discovery and romance for Charlotte and Sam, as well as Marion and Catherine in the not-too-distant past.

The Snippet:

"What are you doing here?" Charlotte asks.

"You know, I think that's the second time today you've asked me that," Sam says. A trickle of shame shivers down Charlotte's back, but she ignores it.

"It’s still a valid question," she says.

"What do you think, Charlie?" he asks, a little exasperation bleeding into his amusement. "I live here."

“You... live here,” she repeats.

“Funny, we didn’t use to have an echo in here,” he smarms. “Yes. Me and Philly boy, Philly boy and I. Frank’s the first floor, we’re the second. Assume you’re taking the attic?”

“Well, I was,” she says. “Now I’m not so sure.”

“C’mon now, Chuck. You don’t need to worry about me.” Laughter lights up his eyes, and she notes green threaded with specks of gold. “I’ve already forgiven you for this morning. No need to be embarrassed. Besides–” his tongue flicks between his teeth, a teasing taste of his own smile. “I like a woman on top.”

His grin grows. Glows. Charlotte can’t help but stare at the sheer gall of it.

“Wow,” she manages. “You’re. Wow.”

“Effortlessly charming? I know, I know. But we should keep this professional.” He winks—again—before bursting into real laughter at the look on her face: something halfway between horror and disbelief.

“Relax, relax,” he says, “Look, I’m sorry, but you make it too easy.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll be good, yeah?”

Charlotte sighs, low and long. “Professionalism. Right.”

She turns toward the narrow stairway, but before she can steal away, Frank emerges from the entrance to his apartment, dark eyes darting between them. 

“Oh! Sam, good. I just found the key to Charlotte’s apartment. Do you mind showing her? The stairs–”

“No worries, Frankie. I got it. D’you–?” Sam bends a little to rub at Phil the Great’s belly, letting go of his leash. Wordlessly, Frank beckons the dog forward with a few light taps on his thigh. Charlotte can’t help but be impressed when he immediately obeys, padding forward into Frank’s apartment.

“He can keep me company for a bit,” Frank agrees. He hands Sam a key before turning to her. “I hope you don’t mind. These stairs are a bit tricky for my old knees.”

“Of course; I don’t mind. Not at all,” Charlotte says, still halfway up the first step.

“Bless you,” he says, mustache twitching. “Let me know if you have any questions once Sam’s done showing you around.”

“I will. Thank you.” He nods, then shuffles back into his apartment, leaving the door slightly ajar. Charlotte stares after him, feeling a bit bereft until warm knuckles nudge her elbow. 

She starts; looks over her shoulder at Sam, her brain short-circuiting a little at the unexpected touch and how close he’s hovering behind her. He meets her stare with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Only one way to go, Chuck,” he says, tilting his chin up. The movement draws her attention to his throat; the bob of his Adam’s apple, and a spiky something scratches in her chest before she shakes her head, pushing it away.

Her spine stiffens. “Right,” she says. She turns forward and starts to climb.

She’s glad she didn’t force Frank to show her the apartment as they wind their way up the narrow staircase, passing what must be Sam’s place on the second floor, before ascending to the attic. 

The third-floor landing is definitely cramped. Sam has to stoop to avoid hitting his head, and they're a little closer than Charlotte considers comfortable, crowding each other and the apartment entrance: another door that's too big to be there, despite looking original.

"Well, this is it," Sam says. He grins, gestures to the door, then stoops even more to fit the key in the lock and push it open. She watches him duck through, following with uncertain footsteps.

Thankfully, the apartment itself is a bit bigger than the landing. Sam has to move to the middle to avoid brushing his head against the ceiling, but he can stand upright, at least. She notes low light, a tiny kitchen—barely more than two burners and a slim fridge—and to her right, a tight hallway she hopes leads to a bathroom and a bedroom.

To her left, a small living room—dim, too, but awash in dancing color. Charlotte beams as she weaves between a cozy little couch and a bookcase, making for the dormer window of shimmering stained glass.

“Is this original, too?”

“Think so,” Sam says. He watches her press a palm to panes made of myriad shades: jewel-bright blue, peridot green, burnt orange, deep crimson.

“You like it.”

He joins her in two strides; his shoulder brushing the wall opposite her. In her periphery, the light filtering in through the stained glass sparks more gold in his eyes.

“I do," she says, pulling her hand back. She meets his gaze, then mirrors him, leaning against the window frame.

“Me too,” he says. He smiles again; another flicker across his face before it becomes something wistful. “Almost makes me wish I’d taken this flat over mine.”

“We could always swap,” Charlotte says. Her smile twists into something more teasing before she can think better of it.

Sam lays a hand on his chest. “You wouldn’t do that to Philly, would you?”

She chuckles. "No, I wouldn't," she admits. "He clearly needs his space. Probably from you."

Sam's eyebrows shoot up his forehead, but his grin stays bright. "And you were worried! Not even a full day and you fit in fine, Chuck." He bumps her arm with his elbow, and the spiky, foreign thing in her chest turns squiggly.

"If I was worried about anything," she says, crossing her arms, "It was that you're hard of hearing. You know, since my name is Charlotte."

"Not a fan of nicknames?" he asks. "Or is it just that one in particular? We'll find something that fits you, Charlie. Give it time. We've only just met."

She clicks her tongue at him, and the squiggly something doesn't miss his eyes zero in on her mouth. She glances down at her feet; clears her throat.

"This what got you into the work?"

She looks back up at the question. He nods toward the window; his smile melting into something more mellow, like a lazy trickle of tree sap. "Or was it Wright himself?"

"Presumptuous of you," she tsks. "You know I'm here for Marion."

"Do I?" he asks. He furrows his brow, and something like the shadow that passed over his face earlier that morning reappears—fleeting and fickle, and gone in the space of a breath.

+++

I lived in Chicago for years, and recently went back and visited the FLW house/studio tour for the first time and that plus the inspo fuel that is this fandom sparked this (could maybe be an AU if you blink real, real hard) idea. We'll see if it goes anywhere!

And now I'm going to work on this today and try not to be too anxious about posting part of it on the internet 🤣

[daisyishedwig]

Darren Criss songs I think you should hear

These are all songs I personally have saved on my laptop and phone that I've collected over the years by ripping them off of youtube. Some of them I've had since 2011 so I cannot guarantee that they are still available.

@vistars was specifically curious about this and then I got hyperfixated on it and did more than just his original but unreleased songs. I also shared fun facts and my personal opinion on lots of the songs. Below a cut because, just like Darren, I talk a lot.

Original songs without studio recordings

Another Love Affair (Performed once at Market Days in Chicago and never performed again, but there are dozens of recordings of it on youtube, so take your pick.)

Any of Those Things (Performed on the Listen Up tour in 2013 and not performed since. Not sure which specific show I have the recording of, but there are lots of recordings from lots of shows so you might have to search for the best quality)

Categories (There is a really old recording of Darren performing this pre-Glee, so he’s largely being ignored and theres a lot of chatter over him, but I think it’s cute to see how far he’s come. He also performed it once on the Listen Up tour, so you might be able to find a better audio quality there)

High School Rock Out (Written when he was in high school, he used to perform it pretty regularly, but not so much in recent years. I usually recommend recordings from Joe’s Pub but there should be multiple recordings of it you can choose from)

The Muse (The first recording of this to exist was on some sort of student talk show at UMich, but then he also performed it at the Homework Release Party in 2017. I have them both saved, but the latter is probably “better” but the first has a lot of nostalgia)

Once Upon a Time (I fucking love this song, if there’s one song on this list I say you /have/ to listen to, it’s this one. Performed on the Listen Up Tour, same as Any of Those Things)

Pheremones (Same as Any of Those Things)

Picture Perfect (Sam as Any of Those Things)

Sophomore (A classic high school Darren song that he used to perform all the time but just doesn’t anymore, this song makes me so giddy and gets me so pumped, you have no idea)

Stutter (I recommend to version of this songs, because it’s probably my favorite Darren song even to this day. So, one is from Market Days in Chicago, it’s the easiest to find one with good quality audio and Darren also goes and has a little drum solo that’s really fun. The other one is from Joe’s Pub in 2011, there used to be a really good audio version of this but I /cannot/ find it anymore, but lesser quality ones do still exist. I love this one specifically because there’s this part where everything gets really quiet and it’s just Darren singing and then it builds and gets really intense and it just scratches my brain super well)

Words (From the Listen Up tour, same as Any of Those Things. This is the song I most think Darren would record if is ever allowed to (Pretty sure there’s weird legal issues around most of the Listen Up songs) because he did use a snippet of it in a medley during the Australia tour. Also just a fantastic song)

Original songs with studio recordings but I prefer a live version of it

Don’t You (From the Human EP but I really like the live performance from the Homework Release Party in LA in 2017)

Human (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You)

I Don’t Mind (He performed this for the first time as a bonus song on the Listen Up tour. I don’t necessarily prefer this version, but I have a lot of nostalgia for it since we didn’t get a studio recording for another four years)

Jealousy (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You)

Not Alone (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You. But also, Darren did record a fully orchestrated version at one point, but for legal reasons was not able to release it normally. So instead he sold tshirts and sweaters with Not Alone lyrics on them and sent the song out as a “free gift”. I don’t know if anyone has uploaded this version to youtube, but if you can get your hands on it, it is very good)

Sami (From the Human EP, same as Don’t You)

Covers of songs performed live that I highly recommend

Cabaret from Cabaret (Performed at Elsie Fest multiple years, I personally think 2016’s is the best, but you can search around if you like. For anything coming from Elsie Fest, I highly recommend looking up Jenn the Broadway nerd, she always has the best audio quality)

Color with Todrick Hall (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2016)

Drive It Like You Stole It from Sing Street (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2016)

Falling Slowly with Lea Michele (Performed on the LMDC tour in 2018, performed at every stop so there will be lots of options to choose from)

Frank Sinatra Medley with Michael Feinstein (Performed at a New Years celebration, but I forget what year, really fun little mashup though)

If I Were a Rich Man from Fiddler on the Roof (He did this series of performances in 2016 (I think) with Seth Rudetsky and he performed this a couple of different times during those.)

Middle of a Moment from James and the Giant Peach (I think this was performed at some sort of UMich event, but I’m not sure. There was once a fan recording of it, but now I’m pretty sure the only version that exists is one where he’s noticeably been autotuned. Still cute, but not quite as live as I would like)

Midnight Radio from Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2019 with Lena Hall and John Cameron Mitchell, I was there, I cried, and I will forever have extreme nostalgia for this performance)

Opening Doors from Merrily We Roll Along (Performed this with Jeremy Jordan and America Ferrera for Six by Sondheim many years ago. Not a live performance, but also not available to purchase or listen outside of youtube and HBO)

Part of This World from The Little Mermaid (He’s sung this a lot, the specific version I recommend is from a performance at Joe’s Pub in 2011. There’s this weird audio glitch at one point that makes him sound like he’s underwater for a little bit and his response to it is really cute)

Proud of Your Boy from Aladdin (He performs this on a special feature for the special edition of Aladdin that was released a while back. But you can also find it on youtube)

Sincerely Me from Dear Evan Hansen (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2018 with Grant Gustin and Will Roland)

Teenage Dream by Katy Perry (Darren has his own arrangement of Teenage Dream that he’s been performing since 2013 and it is an absolutely stunning arrangement. My favorite recording of it is from Elsie Fest in 2016)

Unconditionally by ???? (Performed with Mia Phirrman at Trevor Live on year)

Wait For It from Hamilton (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2019)

Waving Through A Window from Dear Evan Hansen (Performed at Elsie Fest in 2019)

Your Song by Elton John (I have no idea where he was when he sang this, but it appears to be a party and he’s just jamming at a piano and if feels very chill and Darren)

Starkid things

Goin’ Back to Hogwarts from A Very Potter Musical (Specifically the version performed at Azkatraz in 2009. This was the first time Darren ever heard fans singing his lyrics back at him and he gets so emotional it’s so sweet)

I Still Think from Little White Lie (Can be found on spotify, I just really want to make sure everyone knows this song exists because I adore it)

It’s Over Now from Little White Lie (Someone took the version from the album that was pitched to sound like Nick Lang was singing an pitched it back down to be recognizably Darren’s voice, can be found on youtube)

Status Quo from Starship (Performed on the Apocalyptour, you can find a lot of fan recordings of this and other songs he sang on both Apocalyptour and Space Tour but there’s also a really nice profession recording of specifically this song on youtube. Also, if you haven’t watched the Space Tour version of Goin’ Back to Hogwarts from the night Darren was there, you need to because it’s fucking adorable)

To Have a Home from A Very Potter Sequel (I have a really strong soft spot from this song, so anytime he performs it live I have to listen. My favorite is from the Homework Release Party in 2017)

We Don’t Wanna Be Sued (When AVPM (then called HP the Musical) was first posted on youtube, Starkid faced the possibility of being sued for copyright infringement. So they removed it, edited it, and reuploaded it later once they’d gotten everything figured out. In the meantime, they posted a video explanation of why the show was gone, and at the end, Darren came in and sang a song)

[cchapsticck]

✍, 🎶, 🤲

Thank you for the ask!

✍️

Do you have a beta?

Yes and no. @bettiebloodshed and @nuricurry have historically gotten the most unhinged first draft versions of everything I’ve written. Like I’ll just bang out whatever comes to mind first and do a singular pass for like “did I even type a complete word” sort of editing and fire it off to them like a kid trying to get their art on the fridge. But like I think I’ve said before, this is actually the first time in many moons I’ve put what I’ve written out into the void for public consumption. So a lot of the feedback process on those versions of my writing has been sort of more and then and then and then style story building between us that might prompt me adding more to the thing and less about readability or editing or clarity. So anything that I have published on Ao3, as far as formatting and the like goes, is just me Doing My Best, and not so much beta’d.

🎶

Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I listen to music while I do literally anything lol I think I said in a previous ask I make playlists for pretty much everything. It helps me organize my thoughts and filter out some of my own brain noise. Finishing the final section of Metalhead I had this acoustic version of Passing Through A Screen Door on a near constant loop. It definitely became kind of the thematic bedrock of the final section and I don’t know if the finger marks of that are on the writing itself if you know the song but honestly? I wouldn’t be mad if they were. Pretty much all of the stuff I’ve thrown onto Ao3 has a song that I would consider anthemic to it.

Now that I’m kind of in the WIP no mans land I’ve been kind of all over the place but I’ve been obsessed with Fake Your Death for months now. I just keep coming back to it. Dunno why, its just scratching my brain good.

🤲

Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Please enjoy some Come Back Wrong:

[nextdoor-loser]

Favorite song from each Epic saga and general opinions:

(long post probably)

Troy saga - Just a Man

Just a Man is that song where it gets better each time you listen to. To see how it started, with Odysseus debating whether or not to yeet the child only to later get "If I have to throw another infant from a wall in an instant so that we all don't die"?? that's insane actually.

Cyclops saga - Survive

This saga was particularly hard because in my head I see it as one full song + My Goodbye. But musically I think Survive wins, with My Goodbye being a close second.

Ocean saga - Ruthleness

I just love Poseidon's voice. However, I have to say I'm not a fan of the delivery of "all I gotta do is open this bag". It made me laugh initially, but we just went through this emotional moment and like most of Odysseus crew just drowned. But he sounds so cheerful and unserious it kinda gets me out of it.

Amazing song still.

Circe saga - There Are Other Ways

Such a good song! Even if I have a hard time taking it seriously ever since the manwhore au (iykyk). It gets even better now that Tayla and Jorge are dating. (Puppeteer was a close second btw, I like it how it changes throughout).

Underworld saga - No Longer You

Here's the thing, this would be my favorite saga if it was just longer. It feels unfair comparing to other when it only has 3 songs. HOWEVER, the 3 songs that are there are absolute bangers. The Underworld and Monster could make it to the top of any other saga if No Longer You didn't existed.

It's one of my favorite song from the whole musical, if not the favorite. It's embarrassing how much I listened to it on repeat.

Thunder saga - Scylla

Now, here we have my actual favorite saga. It's also my most listened to. I love all the songs on it, but Scylla stands out. KJ's vocals are just incredible.

Wisdom saga - God Games

It feels unfair that Little Wolf (one of my favorites) has to share the same saga that God Games. Maybe some people think that it's overrated, I think it's perfectly rated lol. It feels like we get a whole new saga in just one song.

I love all the God's verses musically, even if I believe their actual arguments could use some work. See yourboyneedsahobby video about this, is very interesting.

Vengeance saga - Charybdis

I've seen people rating Charybdis so low and I don't get it. It was the song I was mostly expecting to come out, it's so addictive. Something about the way Jorge sings "Hooooolding ooon" scratches an itch in my brain

Ithaca saga - Odysseus

The most recent one! I won't say where it falls between the other sagas because of recency bias, but as right now I'll say that Odysseus is absolutely my favorite one.

I've said it before, Monster!Odysseus is my favorite Odysseus. I'll give a special mention to Hold Them Down, another one I had seen the snippets and was very excited to be able to listen to it fully. Antinuous is horrible, but his vocals are perfect it's criminal.

[lotusketch]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

(Or less! Whichever is more comfortable for you) 

Currently reading : Transformers:Exiles (to catch up on that good Continuity lore that I’m so very behind on and a little scared to dive into) and The Sandman Book 1 Deluxe. The show just left me amazed and once I heard there was a graphic novel/s, I had to get my grubby little hands onto the first book that my library thankfully held. (Apparently 26 others were on the same brain wave)

Favorite color : Purple. Any purple. Tones, colors, all of it. Got that look light purple? Prefect. That blueish-purple? Superb. A royal purple? They don’t call it royal for nothing. But I also enjoy a dark wine red.

Last song : Rules The Hooziers, which is a great song, or DEATH by CG5... on repeat... (there’s just something that scratches a part of my brain. I think it’s the deepness of it compared to other songs he makes)

Last movie : Glass Onion. Amazing movie and add on to Knifes Out, which I adore, even as a... less than observant watcher. Definitely a rewatchable movie once you find those tricks and hints. I might just have to rewatch Knifes Out some time now that I think about it.

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory : I’m a huge sweet tooth, artificial but mostly natural. My favorite sweet like... group? is probably fresh fruit. It’s hard to beat fruit for me. But I do enjoy a spicy meal every now and again to add that kick in life or a savory meal to bring in those good feelings. 

Currently working on : Out of an academic setting, I’m trying to work my way around a new editing system I’ve latched onto. Whether it’s for short storyboards (or snippets) or even editing for a friend. 

Honestly, @lets-try-some-writing , I wasn’t expecting this but when I saw your mention, it’s fair to say it made my morning better. So, thank you for that

I’m still a little new when it comes to interacting with other accounts on here so I don’t have a lot of people in mind. But! If you, a stranger, sees this and wants to give it a shot, why not! Go for it! 

[for-fucks-sake-h]

At My Weakest - three

rated: m, mature | word count: 4.4k | story page 

“I am summer... yearning for a drop of your rain.” 

   - Gemma Troy 

“Fucking finally,” Harry growled, his body shooting forward to press Gianna against the kitchen counter.

She was equally fervent, gripping into the collar of that god forsaken polka dot shirt like her life depended on it, tasting his kiss like it was her first meal after starving.

That’s what it felt like; like she was starving for him. For the sounds he made, for his skin under her palms, for that excruciating push of his cock inside her. Every single part of him only made her crave more.

“Thought she’d never leave,” Gianna gasped as her head fell back on her neck.

Harry’s mouth took no pause in finding its way to the soft skin of her throat, sucking kiss after kiss to her racing pulse.

He squeezed her hips tightly, pulling her even closer as his mouth trailed down her neck and chest. She felt like the most comfortable blanket, soft and pillowy in every way, every single curve of her body driving him mad.  

When she slipped out from his insistent crowding, and her fingers latched into the open buttons of his shirt, he followed her without thought. Let her lead him down the hall, fingers still gripping to her, mouth still attempting to find any piece of skin he could.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Gianna flippantly commented on the oversized pink polka dots as they stumbled into his bedroom, Harry slamming the door closed behind them.

Her fingers moved at lightning speed to get every button open, pushing the pink fabric from his shoulders as soon as she could. She could pretend like she really thought it was ridiculous all she wanted, but she knew deep down that he could wear anything and make it look good.

That wasn’t something she either noticed or cared about before. It was unnerving the way she looked at him now, how the sliver of his chest caught her eye the moment she saw him, how it sent a blazing spike of heat down her spine just from a glimpse of his skin.  Maybe it was because she knew what it felt like beneath her fingers now, the feel of his skin overtop the supple yet firm expanse of his chest was now ingrained in her mind with nowhere to go, no outlet, no escape.  

Harry shook his arms loose from the fabric and no sooner did the shirt hit the floor did he have both hands gripping her - one on the smallest part of her soft waist and the other wrapped against her jaw, angling her face up to his.

“That why you were eyeing me up back there?” The words were spoken low in Harry’s throat, timbre deep as he looked down at her with blazing eyes.

It was amazing really, the way the green would change right before her eyes. She’d noticed it before. It was as if every time he looked at her for more than a few seconds, his irises would dilate and the green and gold specks would illuminate so bright she had to look away.

Except for now. Now she bathed in it, silently begging for it to swallow her whole.

She didn’t bother with a response, instead leaned up slowly, eyes steady on his as she torturously closed every inch between them. Until her lips were encased in soft pink warmth and her body melted.

He wrapped her up in him, pulled her so close she felt like she could barely breathe, like she was suffocating from the scent of his shampoo and buttery softness of his lips. And she welcomed it. Adored it, longed for it, begged for more. She couldn't get close enough, and it felt like a sin to have to separate long enough for them to pull their clothes off. Her shirt, her pants, his pants, her bra, his boxers, all falling to the floor one after another until he was mercifully tugging her underwear down her thighs as his tongue slipped along her bottom lip.      

Gianna’s squeal of a giggle was rambunctious in comparison to the growl that escaped Harry’s throat when he practically tackled her onto his bed, immediately sinking into the mattress - sinking into eachother’s warmth and eagerness.  

Her hands raked through his hair when he kissed across her jaw, nipping softly on his way down her chest. She arched into him, back curving off the mattress in an attempt to get closer, until his mouth circled her nipple so delicately she felt like her skin could crawl off.  But when his warm tongue smoothed over her nipple, flicking the peak over and over again, she was all breathless moans and gripping hands.

And that was the thing about Harry, he loved it. Wanted more sounds slipping from her perfect lips, wanted her to tug on his hair harder, wanted her hips twitching off the mattress more than she could bear.  

He looked up at her, enamored with the way her chin was tilted back, her neck and jaw tight and on display, her breath visibly escaping her heaving chest when his hand slipped down her body to find its way between the hot skin of her thighs.  

Her moan was like a song he couldn’t stop playing, a melody he hummed to himself without even noticing, that’s how much it was intricately rooted in his brain.  He wanted to hear it as much as possible, over and over, louder and louder. He got inklings of it when he teased her, snippets when his mouth tormented her, and a smooth, keening noise fell from her lips when his middle finger slipped inside her.  A hook, a twist and a steady, slow pump had her hips moving with him, following every movement like a carefully choreographed dance.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Harry murmured against her chest, his tongue sweeping out over her nipple once more.  

Her nails scratched against his scalp in response, her moan sending another wave of fire across his skin.  He pushed himself up onto his forearm, eyes entranced with every curve of her body, flicking wildly from the blissful look on her face to the way her hips rolled against the mattress as he eased another finger inside her.  

“Please…” she breathed, one hand gripping to the bed sheet while the other squeezed tighter to a handful of his roots.  

Her back arched further, her hips stilling for a moment as he curled his fingers deeper and stopped, hooking them in a way that had her head going fuzzy.  He remained completely still, breath caught in his throat as she swirled her hips before angling down on his fingers further.  He was mesmerized, watching in awe as she practically grinded down on his fingers, her hips making patterns against his mattress.

“There you go,” he encouraged her softly, eyes trained on every move she made. “That’s it, love. Mhm, there you go.” His voice was so low he didn’t even recognize it. It was like he could barely get the words out but couldn’t stop from saying them.      

It was like something switched for him in that moment. He’d give this girl anything she wanted, fill any desire she had, if it meant keeping her there. He’d never had that before; to have someone in his bed and be thinking about how he could get her to stay within his sheets after the high had been chased.

A whine crawled up his throat at the thought, completely taking him off guard. He pressed his forehead into her sternum, somehow feeling her heart hammering through her skin. Maybe it was his imagination - his foggy, desire filled thoughts playing tricks on him.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he could feel her heart beating for him in a way that was more than just lust, more than whatever pleasure he was giving her.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice like honey whenever her lips caressed his name.

He pressed his forehead into her chest more, tongue languidly lapping out to taste her skin. He couldn’t stop from planting wet kisses against her trembling frame, his laps laying her heart for a moment, as if he could absorb her rhythmic heartbeat to match his own.

And then all he could do was slither down her body, catching the way her hips arched up to him to meet his greedy mouth, tongue licking fully through her wet folds with no preamble.

He moaned when she moaned, tasting her fully and breathless asking for more.

“Yeah, go on,” he mumbled against her clit, groaning harshly when her hands pulled tighter on his hair, her hips rolling on their own accord.

“Oh my,” she breathed, her words cutting off with a gasping moan.

Harry gripped Gianna’s hips in his hands, encouraging her to grind against his mouth more. “Fuck my face,” he demanded, his words coating her sensitive skin like a promise.

“God, fuck,” she cursed under her breath, shaking as he licked against her once more.

She lifted her head from the mattress in time to see him pulling away, a small whine emitting from her throat as he moved away.

“Come on. Do it right,” he spoke eagerly as he laid back, his hands grabbing at any part of her he could. “Fuck my face.”  

The devilish smile pulling at her lips did nothing but ignite the fire in the pit of Harry’s stomach, every inch of his skin tingling as he watched her pull up from the bed to crawl over him, legs straddling his waist for a moment as her face hovered over his.

“Who are you,” she murmured, obviously not really caring for a reply before her full lips were pressed against his in a slow kiss, her tongue sweeping against his only to taste herself.

Harry’s hands smoothed over her waist, trailing down her hips until he could grip the supple flesh of her thighs, his fingers digging in harder than ever.

Everything she did made him hotter than the moment before, his body blazing beneath her as he guided her up his chest until her knees planted on either side of his head.

He couldn’t take it, she was moving too slow; he needed her on his tongue again. So with a gentle squeeze and tug against her hips, her knees slid apart the inch needed for him to lift his head from the mattress and find her delicate skin, warm and wet and waiting for him.

Her gasp was all the encouragement he needed to pull her down fully on him, until every inch of his mouth and chin was covered in her desire. He gripped her hips tighter, lapping across her clit over and over as she moaned.

One hand pressed against the small of her back, the other splaying out across the soft skin of her lower stomach until his thumb could find her clit and his tongue could press into her fully.

“Shit,” Gianna gasped, one of her hands pushing roughly through the top of his hair as the other gripped at one of his wrists.

“Mhm,” Harry hummed against her core as she found her perfect rhythm - until she was rolling her hips without any second thought, grinding against his mouth and chin, chasing her high.

Maybe this is what real bliss was, he thought.  A woman doing exactly what she wants with you.

He could tell when her high took over, ripping through her body until she was trembling over him, legs twitching and shaking as she pressed him further into the mattress by his hair, the sounds slipping from her throat paired with her orgasm coating his tongue only making him throb harder.

She practically collapsed over him, one of her hands still in his hair as her other caught her upper half from falling completely. She eased onto the bed beside him, and like a moth to a flame, he followed, rolling onto his side, his face in line with her stomach.

“Fuck,” she breathed as he pressed his lips just below her belly button, sucking kisses being planted on her overly warm skin - her hip, her waist, her breast, her neck - making his way up her body until he reached her face.

She kissed him when his lips found hers, sucking his plush bottom lip into her mouth easily as her hand cupped the side of his neck.

“Your mouth is…” she started as her fingers trailed down his body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. And she may have finished her sentence, but Harry couldn’t be sure with the ringing in his ears just as her hand found his length.

He may have been embarrassed by the noise that escaped his throat when she wrapped her fingers around him if he was in any stable state of mind. But he wasn’t. All of his thoughts were of her and the pleasure coursing through his body.

He couldn’t get enough, and he couldn’t keep up with her - completely overwhelmed.

No sooner was she kissing his mouth before she was kissing his tip, a groan pulling from deep in his chest as his back met the mattress and her warm mouth encased him.

“G,” he breathed, his fingers fisting through his own hair once and twice as she bobbed on him. “Love,” he moaned as she sucked, one of his hands finding the back of her head weakly, fingers scratching against her scalp to pull her attention back to him.

She pulled off his length with a gentle pop, looking up at him with swollen, overly bitten lips and dazed eyes.

“You’re gonna make me explode,” he chuckled weakly, begging his eyes to stay open and on her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and somehow she was in his bed, giving him more pleasure than he deserved.

Her lips curled into a self assured smile as she crawled up his body. “That’s the point,” she whispered as her lips found his once more, her core lining up with his length perfectly.

He kissed her back with a moan, heat prickling his skin everywhere she touched. Her wet core brushed his length over and over again as her lips smoothed over his, until he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to guide himself into her when she pressed back into him again.

It was slow, the way their bodies connected fully as they moaned into each other’s mouths. They both ached for that feeling in the same way, gripping hands and contented sighs falling from their lips as they melted into each other with ease.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” Harry whispered against her mouth, the words spilling from his lips without thought.

Gianna moved over him with a lazy roll of her hips, wanting nothing more than to let herself infinitely mold to him.

“Good...” she moaned as she pushed herself up, her hands planting themselves on the strongest part of his chest, her hair curtaining around her face as she rode him harder, “don’t.”  

Her words were simple, but they didn’t need to be any more than that. Harry could hear it in her tone; he knew that she was guarded and working against it. And how could she not be. He understood. But when they were like this, she didn’t feel closed off. It was like she couldn't stop herself, like her ribcage opened, exposing her vulnerable, overly beating heart.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping her sides, her hips, the fullness of her ass, eyes traveling over her in awe. He reached up quickly, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to him and meet her mouth with needy lips.  

She kissed him feverishly, moaning into his mouth with every thrust of her hips. Her hands found his throat, cupping each side lightly at first, before her grip tightened a bit, and then a bit more, and then a tiny bit more than that.  

He gasped around a groan as his eyes rolled closed, his hips helplessly meeting hers as he came, a sound similar to a muffled shout slipping past his lips.  She watched him ride out his high, his face relaxing from crinkled brows to a lazy, blissed out smile.

He was gorgeous.    

She smothered him completely, his arms instantly wrapping around her waist to keep her close.  

“You’re fucking amazing,” he murmured into the skin of her neck, the scent of her shampoo making him feel like he was high. Maybe he was... completely and totally high on her.  

She hummed as she raked her fingers through the side of his sweaty hair, the contentness of his arms around her that tightly doing more than she knew it could.  

When Gianna cuddled further into the soft sheets that surrounded her, she expected a warm body to also be encasing her.  

Instead, the sheets were crinkled beside her, empty, the room still dark from the night.  She could hear muffled voices coming from the apartment. Harry’s bedroom door was cracked open, the light from the kitchen visible.  

She creeped out of his bed, tip-toeing across the room to stand by the door and peek through the opening.  

He was arguing, she could tell by his rushed words without being able to make out what he was saying.

“Don’t be stupid, Harry.”

That was Gemma, and for whatever reason, her words made Gianna’s heart plummet. She knew they were talking about her, how could they not be.

Gianna never slept in his room, for the weeks that their thing was going on, she always snuck out of his room at some point. And for this exact reason.

“Okay, Gem,” he said sarcastically. “Gonna go to bed now, if that’s alright.”  

Gianna moved away from the door, rushing back into his bed, purposely facing away from his side of the bed when she laid down.

He crept in moments later, a sigh escaping his lips once his door was pushed closed. Gianna tried to even her breathing despite her racing heart, listening as he walked over to the bed, a couple of beats passing before he was sliding in beside her. He released another sigh once he was laying down, the bed moving as he presumably turned onto his side.

It was quiet then, Gianna keeping perfectly still as she breathed softly, her thoughts racing still even as her heart slowed. She didn’t need to know the whole conversation to know Gemma didn’t like what was going on between them. She assumed the protective sister in her came out, and Gianna couldn’t really blame her. She had baggage, and a lot of it. Nothing good could come from this, whatever it was.    

But even though Gianna knew she was playing with fire, she wanted to be burned.  

And then Harry’s arm wrapped around her waist to pull her into his waiting chest, as if he could hear her thoughts.  

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry eased when she startled at his touch. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered as she settled against him, his knee finding its way between her legs as he held her close, his body easily melting against hers once more.

Harry fell asleep almost instantly. Gianna took quite a bit longer before her drowsiness finally pulled her under.  

“Friday?” Gemma asked with wide eyes. “That’s so soon, babe.”  

Gianna nodded from where she leaned over the kitchen counter, finishing a piece of pizza over the open box, still in her work clothes sans heels.  

“I know, but it was available now so I figured I should jump on it before someone else did.”

After the night she overheard Harry and Gemma arguing, Gianna couldn’t find her own place fast enough. It was time - she had overstayed her welcome on Harry and Gemma’s couch.

If anything, she thought maybe she overstayed her welcome in Harry’s bed, too. 

As an easy fix, she went on the hunt for her own place and luckily enough, found something she liked that she could afford on her own and could move into in less than a week.  

She didn’t want things to get weird between her and Harry, or her and Gemma.  Gianna had known them for a long time, and they were there for her through everything with Steve - took her in with no questions.  She would be lucky to sneak out of all this with no damage.  

So she signed a lease and would be moving out of their place in two days. She knew it was fast, but truly thought it was for the best.

“Did you tell Harry?”  

Gianna internally winced, careful not to show a reaction as she brushed her hands together over the pizza box before turning her back to Gemma to wash her hands.  

“Not yet, I haven’t seen him the last couple days. Work’s been crazy busy.”  

The truth was, Gianna was actively working late to avoid him. By the time she got home the last few nights, she would be so tired that she passed out on the couch. It was effective - Harry usually went to bed early and was up way before her in the mornings - making their paths uncrossable.

“Well, you should let him know soon.”

Gemma’s features were soft when Gianna turned back to her. There was something behind Gemma’s eyes, like she had a secret, but she didn’t expand any further.

And Gianna thought about the look on her face for the rest of the evening. While she cleaned up the kitchen, while she showered, while she got herself situated on the couch at nearly 1AM.  

Harry’s bedroom door hadn’t even cracked open, not even a sound coming from the room since Gianna had gotten home. She contemplated going in there, sneaking in and just slipping into his bed and his warm embrace. But she stopped herself. Soon enough she wouldn’t have that luxury anyway so she might as well just get used to it.  

The truth was, and she wasn’t sure why, but she was afraid to tell Harry she was leaving. Maybe because she knew their little arrangement was coming to an end and she wasn’t ready for that to be a reality yet. Maybe deep down she knew she had let herself get too deep in it and now had to climb her way out. She liked Harry, she liked him too much.  

That was the thing about secrets, wasn’t it? They always found a way out.  

So two days later, after still having not told Harry that she was moving, Gianna felt like her stomach could fall right out of her body at the sight of him in the doorway of his room, quietly watching her collect the few random things that had found a home amongst his.

She was completely unaware that he had stood there for more minutes than he was even sure, watching her attach a hair clip to the bottom of her shirt, picking up her current read from the nightstand she had wordlessly taken over, a chapstick that she hadn’t minded sharing. He watched as her fingers slowly drifted over a stray tee shirt that hung from the back of his desk chair, seemingly lost in thought, before she decidedly plucked it from its place to claim it as her own.

She had claimed a lot of things hers in the time she spent hidden away in his bedroom.

Her small gasp seemed genuine, somehow not sensing his presence. That alone had Harry holding back a cryptic laugh, because he could feel her even when she was in a different room.

“You scared me,” she breathed with a hand over her chest.

“Sorry.”  

They wordlessly stared for a moment, eyes attempting to say things that neither of them had the courage to utter.

“Going somewhere?” Harry finally spoke, his tone cooler than ever.

And she hated that it effectively caused a chill to roll down her spine.

“I found a place.”  

Silence again, a small nod of understanding from Harry. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans before casually leaning against the door frame.

“Cool. Do you like it?”

He looked completely indifferent, making conversation like any other day. Except that they didn’t make small talk like this anymore. Many conversations had been held in his bedroom, some funny, some serious, some sexy, some dreamlike, and some so open that they practically hurt.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”  Gianna fiddled with the sleeve of her blouse, subconsciously pulling at the loose thread that hung from the seam.

“When do you move in?”

Gianna tried not to outwardly cringe. “Tonight.”  

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting… resistance? She couldn’t even explain why she should expect that from him other than simply wanting it. There was a part of her that just wanted him to want her to stay.

“That’s great, G. Congrats.”  

The resistance was surely nowhere in sight. Emotion, yearning, pensiveness - also nonexistent.

Gianna knew it wasn’t fair to want a reaction from Harry, but his passiveness was a stark difference from what she had seen from him as of late. But they did what they did, and now it was over. It wasn’t something that could have lasted forever, and that was never the intention anyway.

But as much as it was the right time for Gianna to move forward, she couldn’t help feeling like she was leaving him behind, regardless of him being okay with being left. He helped her in more ways than she could have explained, and for that fact alone, she’d miss their time together.

That wasn’t the only reason.

“Well, thanks for… everything.” Gianna watched every minute movement he made.

“Come on, I didn’t do anything,” Harry countered with a wave of his hand, eyes trailing across her face.

Gianna forced a small smile before choosing that moment to walk towards him and his bedroom door. Harry stood up straight in the doorway - that was as far as he could will his body to move. He wanted to give her a hug at least, he wanted to tell her that he would miss her, but all he did was stand there.

When Gianna leaned up to press the softest kiss to the corner of his mouth, lips like a flower brushing his skin, Harry’s breath caught in his throat, his heart beating so roughly that he was sure she could hear it.

“I’ll see ya around,” she murmured, her perfume caressing him the way her skin once had.

Harry moved into his room, silently sitting on the edge of his bed with a lump in his throat as he listened to the jingle of her keys lifting from the entry table bowl, his head hanging and his eyes drifting shut by the time the heavy door closed behind her.

a/n: Welcome back! I should be saying that to myself, I know lol. I’m honestly so happy I could get something out of my head. I really hope you enjoyed it. The literal biggest thanks to my girls @oh-honey-styles​ @andwhenshesays​ for inspiring me daily and giving me their unconditional support I love you both so much. Clink clink! Thank you to anyone that reads, it’s greatly appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts!  

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[rowansparrow]

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.

“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!”

“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

TAG LIST (Aka everyone on the tag list for BAON):  @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex @bubblegumcat229 @generalcannoli @hellothere501stlover @in-the-crosshairs @vaderthepotater @for-the-love-of-clones @babyhowzer @imrealatedtothe501st @chewychewyque @bobafettuccini @baba-fett-writes @chromia7567 @coffeeandtodd @thedomesticatednerd @kirinpl @djarrex @a-c-lee @embarrassedauthornerd @kaorikoizumi @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows @sammi9498 @theroguesully @salaminus

[astorythatwritesitself]

Hmmmm. 97 for the ficlet game :)

There's a drumming noise inside my head

That starts when you're around

I swear that you could hear it

It makes such an almighty sound

👀 you got one that is definitely here due to being on the Shrios playlist, so congrats, you're getting a

uh

I think this went a little beyond snippet or ficlet but oh well you get pure ship indulgence, enjoy?

look I had to at least attempt to try and match this fuckin mood xD

It’s the implant.

Absolutely has to be the implant, and therefore it’s a problem that can be easily solved by getting through the next however many minutes and then going to Miranda and asking what, exactly, the fuck was wrong with the Serrice implants she’d had since childhood. A good 'no, Lawson, I don’t care about risky brain surgery, I want this to stop, the Serrice amps never gave me headaches at all.’

Except, the L5 implant itself hadn’t shown any signs of trouble, and her vitals were all solid. 

Except there's never actual pain involved in these headaches. Just a rush, a noise pounding in her ears that made it difficult to focus.

‘Except’, she's certain someone (multiple someones) would point out, ‘you had no trouble with it until about three weeks ago.’

(Which would still be wrong, anyway.)

A week and a half since it had gotten this noticeable. Maybe two. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since that chat with Thane, since he spoke of what it was to be Whole and how something clicked… not quite into place, but closer than it had been for a while. Since she’d asked (far too elegant a word, actually) for his help, because Jack and Jacob and Miranda put together hadn’t been able to get her to throw so much as a spark in over a month, so hey, any help would be appreciated. 

She expected a no. Which was reasonable.

She recieved this instead, time in life support or the observation deck spent discussing body and soul and muscles that didn’t know the memory that segued to vids of old fights she still had; an idea that should've been obvious from the start: studying her own form. Recreate, rather than assume she had to start from scratch. Progress to mimicking those movements and guidance that was undeniably unsettling, the way he could pick out such a minute difference in movements she never would have caught. Unspeakably helpful, every exercise since felt like falling closer in step with those ghosts she's spent years chasing. 

And now: a question only half heard over the pounding in her ears, that she could only answer with a nod because everything felt like it had that time she’d nearly drowned as a kid, all muted sound and the sense that opening her mouth would just steal whatever breath she had left. A hand, that had no right being so gentle, on her wrist, halting it in a position that was right, that made her skin prickle with combat memory, with static or maybe it was that those were claws more than nails at her pulse-

Then nothing but ringing in her ears and an actual splitting headache, since she'd Thrown herself head over heels and right into the wall. 

[watermelonlipstick]

Losing

This was written as a request for the eternally lovely @samwisethegr8​. Hope you like it, baby! Idk where the chipmunk stuff came in, I must’ve had forests on the brain or something. As always, I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Losing

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3283

Summary: Losing her hair following a spell makes it challenging for the reader to feel like herself. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hair loss

           Dean knows better, by now, than to say anything about the beanie you straighten as you get into the backseat, giving you some soft eyebrows in the rearview mirror that are maybe worse than if he’d kept joking about it. Typical, for the spell making your hair shed like some cartoon pulling out fists in a temper tantrum to be one of the few you’d seen hang on after the casting witch died. You’d been doing research for weeks now on ways to get it back with nothing to show for your efforts except a few stomachaches from attempted potions (and one influencer-inspired collagen and ACV concoction you’d dumped out after feeling ridiculous). Sam had convinced you that getting back into the swing of things might make you feel better, and was trying a little too hard to be cheerful next to his brother in the front seat.

           “The weather’s so nice today—sometimes you forget how good the sun feels, being in the bunker for a while.” He flashes a smile over to Dean expectantly, willing him to say something encouraging too. Dean looks exasperated for a fleeting second before relenting.

           “Yeah, uh, great day for a drive.” You catch the tail end of his tiny eye roll in the rearview mirror.

           “If you guys are going to treat me like an invalid I’m out of here.”

           “Invalid? I just think it’s a nice day out,” Sam says, trying for indignancy through his put-on ignorance and not quite hitting it. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he’s able to hold onto it for about 2 seconds of eye contact before his face relaxes into more familiar kindness. “Okay, fine, sorry. I’m just happy you’re coming.”

           He’s unphased by your glare back at him, keeps up the sympathetic puppy dog eyes because he knows your snark is coming from a pit of frustration and self-consciousness. Just like Dean’s tenderness of omission in not saying anything about it today, it’s simultaneously comforting and annoying. You feel a lump forming in your throat. “Stop looking at me like that.”

           “Like what?” Sam seems a little hurt.

           “Like I’m dying or something. Both of you. I’m serious, you’re making it so much worse.”

           Dean catches your eyes in the reflection. “Kid, you just seem so fuckin’ bummed. It’s only hair, it’s probably even going to grow back.”

           “Easy for you to say, you’re not going fucking bald! So, are we going or are we doing group therapy in the driveway all day?” You can hear that you’re being too harsh but can’t muster up the energy to stop, flopping into the seatback with your jacket balled in your lap. Sam and Dean exchange a look and Dean turns the key in the ignition.

           It really is a nice day, sun streaming through the windows of the Impala and cutting the still-slightly-chilly spring air just enough to be pleasant. You make a conscious effort to let go of your indignation, counting farm houses on the way out of town as a sort of meditation. Dean starts singing along to the Deep Purple tape playing, and when he catches a glimpse of your smirk he really hams it up, banging out the drum line on the steering wheel and pulling faces that would make Billy Idol jealous. After a few bars you can’t help yourself and start to laugh, the excited accomplishment that breaks through Dean’s act to light up his eyes sending a pang right to your heart. He holds his fist up in a facsimile of an invisible microphone to Sam, who plays along. By the end of the next song the Impala is rocking like Madison Square Garden, radio up so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts as you scream-sing until you’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The music changes over the next few hours,  the volume turned down for snippets of conversation or debriefing about the upcoming case from Sam then back up for one of Dean’s favorite B-sides, and by the time the sun is going down you’re genuinely only thinking of how hungry you are while Dean turns into a diner that stands alone sharing a parking lot with a strip mall.

           Dean’s two steps toward the restaurant by the time Sam has the back door opened to offer his hand to you. He looks surprised when you don’t take it right away, standing there awkwardly for an extended beat with his palm outstretched and his head tilted like a curious dog.

           “I’m not going in.”

           Through the windshield you can see Dean stop and turn back toward the car, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets like he thinks he’ll be waiting in the chilly evening for a while. Sam wraps his fingers around the top of the door and runs his other hand through his hair. “Babe, come on, it’s just some stupid diner. No one will even notice.”

           “Sam, I’ll notice. Forget it. I’ll wait here, you guys go—grab me a sandwich or something.”

           His lips tighten into a sympathetic but frustrated line and he looks over the car to his brother, who shrugs without taking his hands out of his pockets. Loud enough that you can hear him through the windows and around the car, Dean calls out, “How’re you planning on talking to the sheriff if you won’t even walk into a diner, hot shot?”

           You match his volume. “Good point—I’m not planning on talking to the sheriff, I’m staying in the motel.”

           Sam takes a deep breath and winces. “You don’t know anyone here and we’ll never see them again. You’ve gotta eat something. Please?”

           “You’re not the fuckin’ Elephant Man, you’re a chick wearing a hat,” Dean offers loudly, absolutely not helping. Sam shoots him a look that says as much and clenches his jaw. Dean shrugs and opens his jacket with pocketed hands as if to say ‘what?’ Sam jerks his chin toward the diner and Dean nods, spinning lazily on his heel to walk in alone. When Sam moves forward, you slide over on the bench seat to allow him to sit next to you in the backseat.

           “It’s just hair.” He says, low and soothing, just above a whisper. “You’re still the same person.”

           You let your head roll back onto the seat behind you. “You don’t get it—my hair was the only pretty thing about me.”

           Sam’s face contorts in disbelief like you’ve just told him not only are unicorns real, but you have one in your duffel bag. “What?”

           “You heard me,” you repeat, training your eyes Dean through the diner window, winking at a woman in her mid-twenties whose cheeks are full and cherubic under bright, friendly eyes. You can see even from here that she bites the inside of her lip to keep from beaming back at him, holding onto his gaze for a beat longer than necessary before taking her tiny notepad back to the kitchen.

           Sam shifts to put himself more directly in your line of sight. “Baby, the pretty thing about you is you. These hands are beautiful because they’re yours, because they, I don’t know, put an extra dryer sheet in with the laundry so it smells amazing, scratch Dean’s back when he can’t fall asleep. Your eyes are the first ones I want to see every day, not only because they’re beautiful—and don’t argue with me about this for once, please—but because they’re the same ones that always seem to notice that last symbol we’re looking for after I’ve read a stupid book of runes 400 times. Your lips—” he pauses, touching your lower lip with his thumb so light it could be a feather, “—are beautiful because they’re the only ones that I can hear your voice through. Was your hair beautiful? Of course. And it’ll be beautiful again.”

           “You don’t kno—”

           He rolls his eyes. “I do know, but even if it isn’t, you’ll still be you. You can borrow mine if you want.” Sam’s eyes are so earnest, so sweet as a tiny smile tugs at his mouth, that you can’t help yourself as you lean forward and press your lips to his. The way he kisses you back is such naked affection and relief, slipping a hand around the side of your neck to cradle your jaw, that it’s hard not to believe it’s how he really feels. 

           The moment is broken when Dean opens the driver’s side, startling you enough to take a sharp intake of breath against Sam’s cheek. “Quit sucking face and look alive,” he says, nonplussed as he hooks an arm over the front seat to hand you a paper bag filled with Styrofoam boxes.

           “That was, ah, fast,” Sam replies, and it’s almost steady enough to hide the stammer.

           “3 BLTs, not like they fucking built the Great Wall. Waitress in there said there’s a motel in the next town over, 10 minute drive.” He waits until you have the bag supported with a hand on the bottom and one taking the handle from him. Sam squeezes your thigh once before slinking back into the front seat, but Dean’s eyes stay trained on you. “Touch my fries and die.”

           You manage to keep your mitts off everyone’s fries until you pull into Walnut Suites a few minutes later, thinking to yourself it sounds like some kind of hotel for squirrels and hope sort of absentmindedly it’s one of the kinds of motels that decorates to a theme; even when they’re stupid—maybe especially when they’re stupid—anything to break up the monotony of thousands of motel rooms over the years is welcome in your book. Sam coming out of the office dangling a room key attached to a plastic walnut is evidence that you might be in luck, and you grab the food as you get out of the backseat.

           Dean already has your duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “This feels light; you bring your gun?”

           You wait a second to see if he’ll figure it out himself, but Dean only raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out like you haven’t heard him. “Hardly need a blow dryer now, do I?”

           If there was more light in the parking lot you’d probably have been able to see Dean’s cheeks flush as he cleared his throat to cover. “Uh, right. Do still need a gun though, so as long as you’ve got that.” He offers Sam his bag and shuts the trunk as his little brother reaches the parked car.

           “Apparently we’re in the chipmunk room.” Sam’s going for above-it-all but he knows you secretly like this kind of shit and drops the key into your palm with a wink. “It’s the only one with queens instead of fulls.”

           “Whatever,” Dean grumbles. “I’m hungry enough I’d eat a damn chipmunk.”

           “What does that even mean?” Sam asked, annoyed in a way only a sibling can be as the brothers trail after you to the room.

           “That I’m fucking hungry, what do you think?”

           “A chipmunk is like, the smallest animal you could possibly say. It doesn’t make any sense; anyone could eat a chipmunk.”

           “You trying to chow down on a chipmunk kabob, Sammy? Aren’t you like 99% vegan now? It’s the principle of the thing.”

           Sam rolls his eyes in over the top sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m vegan now, that’s why I’m about to eat a BLT with mayo, dumbass.”

           “Bacon doesn’t count. And it’s about timing; you said chipmunk room, I said I could eat a chi—you know what, I’m not explaining this to you. You either understand comedy or you don’t.”

           As you open the door, the light from the room illuminates Sam’s bitch face kicking back on his neck. Winchester bickering had already put a smirk on your lips but the décor was everything chintzy you could’ve hoped for; forest embroidered quilts on the beds and a chain of hand-holding chipmunks that appeared to be hand painted in a waist-high border around the walls. The bed frames were made of those stripped logs that could look very chic in otherwise minimalistic Scandinavian architecture, but here they looked impossibly cute and dorky with chipmunk stuffed perched on each bedpost. Dean seems not to notice any of it at all, throwing his duffel on the bed closest to the door and snatching the bag of food out of your hand.

           The three of you eat watching Alf while sprawled on various furniture. When the half-hour flips the programming over to Mork and Mindy, you offer Dean the rest of your fries and get up to stretch your back. “Either of you dying to use the bathroom? I want a shower.”

           Both shake their heads so you grab your ditty bag and head to the reasonably sized bathroom, trying not to be startled at the large Chip and Dale portrait painted onto the back of the door that reveals itself in the mirror when you go to set your things down. It’s clean and the water pressure is good, which is far more than you can say for many similar places you’ve stayed in, and you linger in the shower longer than you need to, shaving your legs twice for an excuse to stay under the water and out from under the oppressive weight of your self-consciousness here where the boys can’t see you. Washing your remaining hair as quickly as possible and chuckling once, mirthlessly, at the lingering reflex to squirt the amount you used to need into your palm, you finally leave the shower with only momentary nausea at the amount of hair you have to grab from the drain to let the water empty. For the ever-growing list of pros and cons for shaving your head you’d been building in your head: no more shucking these sopping hairballs into tacky little wastebins across America. You wrap a towel into a turban around your head more as a reflex of propriety than anything, marveling again at the amount of rituals there are—were—around hair. Maybe being unburdened by that would be freeing. And it feels sentimental in an annoying pseudo-useless way staying attached to the hair that remains, like lingering in the victimization of this stupid spell when you could just as easily shave your head and be done with it, become some kind of Tank Girl badass version of yourself and pretend you’re too cool and tough to care about girly shit like ponytails and the way Sam held his nose to the crown of your head sometimes, took a deep inhale of you and smiled so you could feel it laid on top of your hair like a tiara more precious than any you could imagine. In any case it won’t be right now, so you throw the loose t-shirt you’d gotten from your bag over the towel on your head and slip on some athletic shorts before heading out to the room.

           You were in the shower for even longer than you thought because Dean is in his standard “just-before-sleeping-on-the-road” outfit, having lost the flannel he wore that day as well as his belt. The jeans will come off just before he gets in bed, pooled on the floor with neatly set boots beside the mattress so he can jump into them like a firefighter if he needs to, an old habit that you’d stopped making fun of the Winchesters for when it actually had come in handy a few times. Sam usually folds the jeans and sets them on top of his boots next to your bed. Dean grabs one of your hands and flips it over for inspection as you walk by. “Surprised you’re not a raisin. Going to send this county into a drought.”

           You roll your eyes good-naturedly and toss your toiletries on your bag as you head to your bed, watching Sam brush his teeth in the kitchenette sink. Dean follows with a tight handful of clean tee and boxers as Sam comes back to you, the younger Winchester grabbing the back of his collar to tug off his t-shirt and toss it on top of his bag in one fluid motion before folding back the sheets and getting in. Over your shoulder, the shower turns on and you can hear Dean humming through the door. The beanie you’d taken off was exactly where you’d left it, and you flipped your head over to take off the towel on your head and replace it with the hat as inconspicuously as possible.

           “Babe, you don’t—” Sam starts softly, stopping when he sees you turn back to him with your jaw set.

           “Can we just go to sleep?” you reply, almost succeeding at keeping the sting out of your voice. He bites his lip and nods mostly to himself, flicking the covers on your side back in invitation. You crawl in, turning your back to him partly to be wrapped up by the warm shell of his body and partly so he can’t see your face. A large hand covers your hand where it lays on your sternum, intertwining your fingers in his and pulling you back into him a touch. After a long minute of listening to the shower-dampened noise of Dean going through Skynyrd’s greatest hits, you feel Sam’s voice through the knit on your head.

           “I feel like we’re camping.”

           “What?” you ask, genuinely confused.

           “You wearing a hat to bed, you only do that when it’s freezing.”

           “I really don’t want to tal—”

           “I know you don’t, but I just…you’ve been boxing me out for weeks now. Listen, I know I don’t get it, I know it’s not the same as if it had happened to me, and I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, but I don’t care about your hair. I mean—fuck—not like that, I care about it because I care that it’s affecting you, but I just wish I could get you to understand that nothing about the way I think of you has changed. You’re always going to be the sweet, funny, badass girl I’m beyond lucky lets me hang around. It’s like this spell took your hair but the real punishment is putting this wall up around you.”

           You take a deep breath to steady your voice and realize there’s no way you’re going to be able to talk without it cracking, instead just yanking the hat off your head and letting it fall to the ground beside Sam’s jeans. He hesitates for a second before pressing his face to you, and you can feel the smile against your scalp. It’s a struggle, but you manage not to wince when he kisses a spot you know is effectively completely bald.

           “You smell good,” he murmurs against you, and you don’t know why it’s that simple statement, after all the flowery poetic things he’s said for weeks and especially today, but there’s something about the total acceptance, no hint of the disgust you thought was inevitable no matter how hard he tried to insist wasn’t there, that melts you. It’s enough to unwrap some of the defensive prickliness you’ve built up, and the amount of emotional energy you’ve been putting into keeping it there dissolves the way it sometimes does the second your body realizes the adrenaline of a hunt is no longer needed and you crash in the backseat of the Impala. The heat from Sam’s body and the delicate sound of his heavy breathing on your neck puts you to sleep before Dean’s out of the shower.

-

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[1ddotdhq]

💀Wed 28 Oct ‘20🏡

Zayn is back, Louis has pink hoodies (sort of), Liam is tik tokking like a pro, Harry feeds fish, Simon Cowell’s surgery recovery has stalled and is going poorly (great! couldn’t have happened to a more deserving human), but we’ve got too much real news to waste anymore time on that asshole! 

We ended last night with ZAYN SINGING TO US!! Beautiful black and white footage of beautiful Zayn and his perfect voice; he shows us little snippets of himself crooning James Bay's Hold Back the River and Paolo Nutini's Last Request (not for the first time on this one, he did this song before in the lead up to Icarus Falls... more on that in a minute) while reading lyrics off his phone, captioned 'Cover Sessions.' Good god but I have missed his ethereal warbling! The post alone is an unexpected blessing and a gift but the implied promise of more to come?? YES PLEASE I CANNOT WAIT. Some wonder if it could be for a Spotify Sessions, others are screaming about how Icarus Falls' drop was preceded by weeks of black and white cover song videos on instagram (when asked at that time if he was releasing something he said “yes why else do you think I'd be on here singing for you??” LOL, adore this man, but also, hello!) Anyway yesterday we got not only music and the promise of more to come, but also interaction! He chatted in comments, offering a coy 'maybe' to a comment saying 'acoustic', posting laugh cry emojis at his own jokes (“no YOU stop”), and sending love back to his happy zquad, who were of course overwhelmed and over the moon. He's cut his hair off but with all he's given us today can we be sad? It's a small price to pay. James Bay reposted the cover of his song-- “nice one man x.”

Then, Louis officially dropped his Kill My Mind Lyric drop (on the 28th!!!):  the lyric being represented is “the devil in my brain”, and it is indeed a skull with a tophat over a cauldron. The new stuff features the cute little logo embroidered on various black cold weather wear items (including a sweater!) and says 'lyric drop 2' inside the collar of the shirts. BUT! There’s more! We’ve got some more wavy walls hoodies in pink lettering, as well as fuzzy red lettering and a marble red and pink design. Love it! However, it was discovered that this new merch does not ship to India or LATAM (except Costa Rica) and honestly?? RUDE!! Louis’ LATAM fans are the FUCKING BEST (no I’m not biased wdym???). They do, however, ship to Vatican City for some reason so catch the Pope in his Walls merch! Louis did respond to this issue on twitter, though, and said, “I’ll get more info on this ASAP. Anywhere else?” so dioceses all over the world will soon be able to rock out in their KMM merch. Celebtm also came back for round three to tell everyone that they were removing themselves from the narrative until January (good riddance), but not before leaving a message from Michael Straus (ugh) to Louis and his “son” (the quote marks are theirs, not mine, in case you’re wondering where they stand on the issue). Straus’ last hurrah included claims that Briana gets a direct deposit from Louis (or his team) on the first of every month, spends it all immediately and is left destitute for the rest of the month, and that neither Briana nor Freddie have health insurance. He then offered to help Louis get custody of Freddie. Um, right. I’m sure his help would be invaluable. Also, we all agree that he’s a liar and likely doesn’t know shit and is trying to make himself seem like the hero instead of the gross misogynist he is right? 

A story was also released about Harry’s car breaking down in the UK over the summer. He did what anyone would do (I suppose?) and knocked on someone’s door to see if they could help. Well, it turns out their daughter is a fan, so they invited him in for a cup of tea, and allowed him to snoop around her room. They even took a picture of him feeding her goldfish! The photographer who took the picture is (coincidentally?) a professional, who has worked with Kasey Musgraves before. The fan did not get to meet him, but he signed her album, and left her a note promising to meet her at a concert, which he would be inviting them to. Harry has done some other cool things in the last few days (being politically active IS cool), and has started filming DWD in Palm Springs. He was spotted by a fan (though no pictures were released) and he signed her phone cover - it reads “Golden” with a little heart. 

Harry also ignited discourse by *shuffles papers,scratches head in confusion* his endorsement of Joe Biden? Well, there were a few layers to this condemnation. The first were the people who... thought he might be a Trump supporter and were disappointed that he was not? Well, uh, clearly they have not been paying close attention, because this man has been seen this year in a BLM rally, has shouted “fuck Boris, fuck the government”, and has waved multiple different pride flags (including the trans flag!) at his concerts. IDK how that screamed Trump supporter to some people. And then there were the people who were angry that he captioned the tweet “I would vote with kindness”. The words I have seen thrown around are “disingenuous” “privileged” and “this is not enough.” Well! Harry has often been criticized for encouraging fans to simply “vote” without talking specifics; now he's endorsed a candidate, just as requested! And while no one actually LIKES Biden there is no question (in any world except absurd fandom wank circles) that this endorsement is the correct one out of the viable candidates. He is not saying that Biden is himself kind, which yes would be weird, he is saying that voting for Biden is the kinder choice and you know what? He is correct. If you think that we at 1ddotd are gonna condemn him for taking a stance against a fascist, uh, THINK AGAIN!

It was confirmed that Liam’s mystery collab is Dixie D’Amelio, of tik tok fame, and I’m going to refrain from commenting until I hear the song! Liam continues to lean into both Christmas and Halloween by doing his spooky tik toks and NOT putting jump scare warnings in ANY OF THEM, thanks so much for that one Liam, love it loads! His fun, spooky, dorky ones (in full AWESOME looking makeup thanks to MUA Abby Roberts who’s quickly becoming a regular) are amazing though, and I will miss it when Halloween is over. And Niall was on the Elvis Duran show, mid-golf game with his cousin actually, to talk about them about his concert, the venue, the cause (calling his crew “like family”), and calling out the government (go Niall!)! He ALSO took to twitter and said, “I wish I could vote”. He would also not be voting for Trump, in case anyone actually needs that spelled out.

[thatesqcrush]

Neighbors, Pt. 4

Rafael Barba x Reader. CW: angst, gun violence, language. Episode references: Nationwide Manhunt (SVU) & The Song of Gregory William Yates (CPD). WC: 1200 (1454)

AN: Another non-smut chapter? Who am I? Forgive me for typos.

AN2: I am starting off with a tiny snippet of ch.3′s ending only because it’s been awhile since I updated, hence the word count difference noted above.

--

The next morning, Rafael knocked on your hotel door, hoping to check in on you. You opened the door, clad in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. Rafael swallowed hard.

“Hey – “ Rafael began. His voice trailed as he looked past your shoulder, watching Adam walk in the background.

“What’s up? I told Liv I’d be down in 20. Has there been an update?”

“Um, yeah – overnight Carisi and Rollins apprehended Rudnick. He was discovered hiding in a docked boat by Caroga Lake. Rudnick suffered multiple injuries.” Rafael replied. Adam joined from behind, tugging on his shirt. Rafael ignored him, focusing on you.

“I'm not shedding any tears.” You replied, as you crossed your arms.

“Yates hobbled him - broke both his knees, his ankles, pierced his eardrum. Just left him to die.” Rafael continued.

“Is he talking yet?”

“Only to Carisi, and he's in and out of consciousness. He did indicate the plan was to cross the border at the Saint Lawrence River.”

You pushed past Adam and grabbed your jeans, which were laying on a heap on the floor. “Come on – lets go.”

“What are you going to do?” Rafael asked.

You holstered your gun. “What I should have done a long time ago.”

“Olivia…”

“Olivia nothing. Now, Rafael – just get out of my way.”

Rafael looked at Adam. “You’re going to let her just go after a serial killer?” Adam scoffed. “No. I’ll go with her. Now we’ll see you at the church.”

--

Rafael followed you to the elevator bank, basically nipping at your heels. “Y/N – don’t be foolish. This is exactly what Yates would want you to do.”

You ignored Rafael and pressed the down button repeatedly, as if doing so were to make the elevator arrive more quickly. “Y/N! Just stop!” Rafael put a hand on your shoulder. You spun, coming chest to chest with the prosecutor.

“Rafael, this is not your battle! Back off!” You snapped. The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival. Rafael moved to follow you and Adam stepped in front of you, blocking Rafael.

“Let her go man.” Adam replied sternly, outstretching his arm on the elevator side portal, preventing the door from closing.

Rafael looked past Adam’s shoulder, to you. “Y/N.”

You met his eyes, which like yours, were wet with unshed tears. “Rafael. Try to understand.”

Adam stepped aside and the door began to slowly shut. Rafael tried pressing the call button to prevent it from closing, but it was too late. Rafael swore loudly and took out his phone, making a call to Liv.

--

Back at the church, Rafael pushed past through the cornucopia of law enforcement, in hopes of spotting you. He spotted Liv and made way towards her.

“Liv!”

“I can't get a hold of Y/N.” The brunette lieutenant replied with worry etched on her face. She spotted Adam walking over in the distance.

“Adam!”

“Where’s Y/N?” Rafael asked angrily.

“Wait – she’s not here?” Adam asked as he placed his hands on his hips.

“I thought she was with you.” Rafael replied. “You two left together.”

“No. We split up. I followed a dead end. She followed another. Where’s Lindsay?”

“She’s not here either.” Liv replied, frowning. “Did Lindsay know Yates was headed north?”

“I guess... Dodds put an APB out on a pickup truck he hot-wired.” 

“They’re both going after him.” Rafael replied. “I might have let out that Rudnick mentioned that the plan was to cross the border at the Saint Lawrence River.” Rafael replied, before letting out a slew of curse words in Spanish.

Amanda jogged over. “Liv, I just got word that Dodds is with Lindsey and Y/N.”

Liv grabbed her police radio. “Dodds, this is Liv – you need to turn around. Now.”

--

“Copy that, Lieutenant. Liv wants us to come back.” Mike replied, as he began to turn the car around.

“Yeah, I'm not doing that.” You replied. Lindsey nodded, as she leaned forward from the middle backseat. “I’m with Y/N on this.”

“Detectives, I know he killed someone close to you, but this isn't us anymore.” Mike reasoned.

Lindsey shook her head and from her peripheral vision, spotted an abandoned police car. “What the hell is that? There's been no radio traffic. Pull over.”

Mike brought the car to a stop. It had started to rain hard, coming down in sheets making the ground muddy and slippery with wet leaves. The three of you each drew out your guns and carefully canvassed the area. Lindsey spotted the body of the trooper.

“I got a trooper down!”

“Is he –” you asked, knowing full well the answer.

“He's gone. So's his gun!” Lindsey shouted as realization hit her.

The sound of gunshots filled the air. You all ran to take cover, but it was too late for Mike, as a bullet tore through his shoulder.

“Dodds!” You screamed.

Mike groaned as he made way behind the car. “Stay down. Take cover!” He reached for his radio. “This is Sergeant Dodds. Shots fired; two officers down. Suspect is armed and in flight. Requesting immediate backup. I repeat, immediate backup!”  Mike groaned leaning against the car.

“Dodds, are you okay?” Lindsey asked rushing over.

“I'm fine. Just stay down.” You noticed a dark figure in the trees and you took off in hot pursuit.

“Detective, what are you doing? Detective, stay down!” Mike shouted.

Lindsey whipped her head around and took off after you. “Get back here! Wait for backup! Get back here! Detective!” Mike continued to shout.

You pursued Yates, firing your gun as you did so. Your lungs burned as you ran at full speed. Suddenly you were hit with searing pain at the knee. “Fuck!” You screamed. Your leg immediately buckled and you fell to the ground, your hands bracing against the wet ground. You leaned up slightly, but before you could do anything more, you were hit with another bullet, this time to your shoulder. You collapsed in pain, unable to move. The rain was cold but your shoulder and leg were warm as blood seeped through. Shakily you touched your shoulder, wincing as you touched the wound. You brought your hand to your face, seeing your fingertips coated in your blood.

“Y/N! Y/N – are you okay?” You looked up and saw Lindsey above you.

“Yates…” You gritted. “Go get the bastard.”

Lindsey nodded. “I’m coming back for you; I promise.” Then Lindsey took off.

Her footsteps trailed off and you focused your attention to the sky above you. You watched the rain fell; deep throbbing pain began to radiate through you. You were soaked to the bone and you began to shiver. You felt sleepy and your eyes fluttered close. The last image you had in your head was of Rafael at the elevator from earlier. Your face was wet – you could no longer tell what was rain and what were your tears. You forced your eyes to remain open, willing yourself to stay awake. It was too much and you felt yourself giving in. 

‘Rafael – I am so sorry.’

--

Your eyes fluttered open, voices above you shouted nonsensical things; you could make out an intense bright light, but it was fuzzy. You could hear the urgency in the voices around you. Your brain made out the words – “subclavian artery” and “the one in the knee wasn’t through and through.” It took too much energy to stay awake; it was so much easier to give in to the darkness.

--

Rafael knocked gently on the door to your room. He carried a bouquet of orange roses. He winced, seeing you in bed, your shoulder in a sling as well as your leg. Adam looked up at him. “Hey.”

“How – how is she?” Rafael asked, as he made his way in.

Adam frowned. “She – she developed compartment syndrome. So they had to do another surgery. But they said with time, PT – lots of PT, she should be okay.”

“Another surgery? Jesus, fuck.” Rafael let out a long exhale. 

Adam scratched his chin, eyeing Rafael up and down. He took a deep breath before talking. “You know, she talks about you. Non-stop.”

Rafael looked at the young detective in surprise. “She talks about me?”

Adam nodded. “Ever since she moved to New York. Her pain in the ass neighbor who she works with. Look, she and I…. what we had… at the time, it was great. It was great until it wasn’t. So yeah, she talks about you. Take that for what it is worth.”

Rafael let out another exhale. “Okay.”

Adam’s phone buzzed and he looked at it. “I gotta go, Yates is back in Chicago – but… but having been in this spot myself - when you're waking up, it’s better when there is someone is there. You shouldn’t be alone. It’s good that you are here.”

Rafael shook Adam’s hand. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. Take care of our girl.”

Rafael nodded and turned his attention back to you. He felt incredibly helpless seeing you. You seemed so small and fragile in the large hospital bed. He took out his phone and played your favorite Bach cantata. And when he was certain that Adam was gone – he dropped his head into his hands and cried.

Tag list: @madpanda75 @ @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @tropes-and-tales @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper 

[eintsein]

After a few years of trial and error, I think I've finally found the perfect organization method.

In the early years of high school, I had a bullet journal. I was an artsy kid who found a way to combine art with organization in a way that benefited other parts of my life.

However, as I approached the end of high school, my schedule got busier, and I was involved in a lot more things, so owning a bullet journal was less practical. Because of that, I switched to an app called Edo Agenda.

I continued with digital planning in college since I knew I wasn't going to have as much time. But all the apps I tried out—Taskade, Actions by Moleskine, Any.do, Todoist, Wunderlist—weren't suited to my planning and organizational needs. They didn't have the specific functions I required and didn't incorporate an organization system I liked to use. The predefined apps were too restraining, but the more customizable apps weren't customizable enough.

So then I switched to a bare bones, uber minimalist bullet journal method. That worked pretty well my second semester. It was simple, portable, and most importantly, flexible—all the things one could wish for in a planning system. However, it wasn't always the most convenient to use since I couldn't effectively integrate all the different aspects of my life, which, to no surprise, is mostly recorded digitally.

There was just one huge problem with my digital organization system that made me hesitant to switch back in the first place: everything was fragmented. Notes were in Google Docs. Financial records were in Google Sheets. To-Do Lists were in my bullet journal. Team projects were in Trello. My poetry was on Bear. Things I wanted to try are carelessly pinned to random pinterest boards or added to my YouTube "watch later" playlist. It was a mess.

Over the summer, I found out about Notion from a friend, and I thought, this has so much potential, it could even be exactly what I need. It's essentially like an empty notebook on your computer with functions that make it 10x more powerful. Notion allows you to integrate all aspects of your life and work into one app. Some of the advantages that have made me partial to Notion are:

Even greater customization level. Notion is a blank canvas with tons of predefined blocks and different file types. You can make databases, spreadsheets, Kanban boards, to do lists, etc. Also, you can remain connected to other digital services. You can link websites, collaborate with other users, use different structures (e.g. documents, databases, tasks), embed images and videos, etc. There are also tons of formatting options, e.g. text color, highlight, heading v. body text.

Better organization. Notion allows you to have pages within pages within pages within pages—an infinite hierarchy that you can organize with tables of contents. These pages are made of blocks, e.g. tables, checklists, boards, databases.  Both pages and blocks can be rearranged by simply dragging and dropping them to where you want them to be. In other words, I guess it's kind of like building a website to organize your life. Plus, their database feature is especially powerful as it allows you to connect all your data and get into as much detail as you wish (each entry in a database is its own page).

Templates. There are tons of templates created by both Notion and the community that you can use. These are especially helpful in the beginning since Notion does have a rather steep learning curve. There are template for almost every category: personal, planning, finance, job applications, design roadmap, etc. Check out their template gallery, this medium article called "10 Notion templates to inspire your use", or read on for my own examples!

Shortcuts. This makes typing and documenting so much faster. Notion uses Markdown, which is a text-to-HTML conversion tool, e.g. # = Heading 1, *, - = bullet point, etc.

Notion has some pretty awesome features, but how does one actually use it? Personally, I have four top-level pages: my planner, my personal journal, songwriting, and blogging.

Planner

I've been using my planner to, well, plan and track my day to day activities as well as my week and month. The way I've structured it is a calendar or monthly overview with links to pages of weekly overviews, and if needed, daily overviews within the weekly overview. This links things up so nicely, i.e. I don't have to be constantly flipping pages in my physical bullet journal or planner to find what I need.

I also have entertainment lists, which is mainly a table with all the shows I want to watch, the books I want to read, etc. I keep track of whether or not I've watched them, as well as my personal ratings. What I love most about this is that each entry is its own page, so I can type my notes for each book, show, or film and easily find them in the future. (Also the reason why I have plural “lists” instead of just one entertainment list is because you can filter entries by type of entertainment, e.g. movies, tv shows, books, articles.)

Personal

For personal notes, goals, journal entries, etc. This is kind of like an extension of my daily journal and just where I dump all my thoughts and keep track of the different aspects of my life: mental, emotional, spiritual, social, physical, and travel.

Another page I have is called "Stray Thoughts" and, well, it's pretty self explanatory. It's a lot easier to dump all my thoughts as they come and reorganize them later. Of course, this requires sacrificing the rawness of journaling, i.e. when the thoughts come and how you process them, which is why I still keep a regular journal that I write in daily.

Songwriting

I've been writing a lot of music over the summer and it's often hard to keep track of all of my songs and how far I've gotten in the songwriting process. So I created a table of songs - each entry of a song is a page with its lyrics. These are then tagged with the status of the lyrics (i.e. completed, in progress) and the status of the music itself (i.e. melody only, instrumental, mixing, mastering, revised). Eventually, I'll include demos in the database by embedding audio files in the document.

I have a separate section for inspiration and ideas, which is a kind of brain dump, e.g. words I think would make a good song, a certain theme for a song, a melody that's been stuck in my head, a vibe I'd like to try out, etc.

I've also been watching a lot of tutorials for music production and there's a section where I write my notes for that.

Eintsein

The last section of my Notion app is for this blog. Which has pages for

New posts. These are ideas for future posts, asks that I think would need longer answers, as well as posts that are currently in the draft stage (like this one was before I posted it)

Design assets. This is where I put all the visual branding material for Eintsein.com to be used in posts and any visual material on the blog.

FAQ. Having an FAQ document just makes it so much easier to make changes to your existing FAQ. Plus, if you ever change your FAQ theme, you just have to copy and paste what you already have.

Post directory. I keep track of all my previous masterposts, infographics, and generally longer and more comprehensive posts. It's the exact same as what you see on my Navigation page. And yes, the document contains direct links to the post.

New theme. A project I've been working on the past couple days is trying to create my own theme for my blog. This is where I put all my outlines, brainstorming notes, design inspiration, code snippets, etc.There are some pretty awesome features I’ve made use of in this page:

As you can probably tell, I'm absolutely obsessed with Notion since it has such awesome features and endless possibilities for customization. So far I've been using Notion for personal projects, which, since they are quite big in scale and have no set deadline, are important to organize well. My summer courses were only 6 weeks and weren't difficult to organize.

The formats above are just how I personally use notion. You could make some of your own, or if you don't think you want to build your pages from scratch, there are tons of templates to choose from. Here are some I think I'll be using in the near future and may be helpful for others as well, especially students like myself:

One drawback, however, is that Notion has a rather steep learning curve, but there are tons of tutorials online (especially YouTube) and I guarantee you it's all worth it.

Notion is not just a productivity app. It's a way to concretize your entire life.

Notion is free to use, but there are higher tiers that allow for more blocks, greater file size, etc. I use a personal account, which is $4 per month with unlimited block storage and no file upload limit (although I got it for $33/year). Personally I think the free plan would suit most people's needs, especially if you're not uploading large files.

[omg-imatotalmess]

Nightmares and Hot Chocolate

Hey guys! I’m feeling some type of way, so here’s this. Hope y’all enjoy! 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested: Ye

@midnight-moon-lover​ Requested: Can you make a Draco x muggle!reader post war?  

Warnings: Panic attack, non descriptive violence, nightmares, war talk(?), swearing (I promise it’ll get fluffy) 

                                                              ---

Moonlight filtered through your half open curtains illuminating your bedroom with a soft silver glow when you stumbled into consciousness. It was late. The blue numbers on the clock blinked 2:28AM. Really late. Why were you awake? Blinking, you moved your half open eyes around the room looking for anything that would have disturbed you, but nothing seemed out of place. With a yawn, you rolled onto your stomach and closed your eyes again. Sleep hovered a hairsbreadth out of your reach when you heard it. 

A whimper. 

It was a low, fearful sound; wet like the person was crying. The sound was reminiscent of a frightened child. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried to figure out if the sound was real, or if you were dreaming it. It was quiet for a second. You could feel the sheets on the other side of the bed being shuffled. 

“No! Please, no!” You sat up, turning towards the scared voice. Another nightmare. 

“Dray,” you said gently. 

“No!” Draco cried, whipping his head to the side. 

“Draco,” you tried again. 

“Stop it!” he wailed. 

Before you had the chance to speak again, he shot bolt upright, chest heaving as he searched the room wildly. His hands clenched the blankets so tight you thought they might rip. Tears streamed down his face. The bed vibrated with the intensity of his shaking. Reaching out, you brushed the tips of your fingers across his shoulder. The second your fingers made contact with his clammy skin, he let out a choked scream and spun towards you. 

“Easy, Dray. It’s only me,” you said.

“(Y/N)?” he asked in a small, cracking voice. 

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here.” With a shaking hands, he cupped your cheeks and stared at you like he had to be sure you were really there. Usually stunning eyes were now bloodshot and wide with fear. The haunted look in them that was usually so well concealed hit you full force and your heart clenched.

“I was there.” He let his hands fall into his own lap and stared down at them. Even his words were haunted. 

“You’re safe,” you soothed, smoothing his sweaty hair off his forehead. He didn’t look at you. “You’re with me, at home, safe and sound.” 

“He killed them.” 

“Dra--” 

“He killed them. I should have done something, but I’m a coward! It’s my fault! They’re dead because of me!” His voice verged on hysterical as he began to scratch at the strange tattoo on his forearm. Quickly, you grabbed his hands before he could do any real damage. 

“It’s not your fault,” you said. 

“It is!” he insisted.

“No, baby.” For a moment, you wished you had bigger hands so your could completely encompass his they way he did for you when it was cold outside.

“It’s my fault!” he yelled, tugging at his hands. 

“Hey, look at me,” you said. 

“My fault!” He didn’t seem to hear you. Even though you could only see his profile, you could see the fear and self loathing twisting in his expression and carving itself deeper into his mind. Wide, unfocused eyes stared across the room. Gripping his hands tighter, you moved yourself in front of him. 

“Draco, I need you to listen to me. Squeeze my hands if you understand,” you said firmly. His hands squeezed around yours. They were clammy, but you didn’t dare let them go. For all you knew, you were the only thing keeping him there with you. 

“Good. Can you breathe with me?” A squeeze. You walked him through calming his breathing for a few minutes. “You’re doing so good, baby.” 

When he seemed a little more in control, you allowed yourself to think for a minute. There was so much you didn’t know about Draco; about what happened to him. You knew he was a wizard though you’d only learned that when he moved in with you a couple years ago. You also knew that there’d been some kind of war that people like you, he called them muggles, weren’t aware of. That would bring you to the last thing you were absolutely sure of: Draco had been through Hell. 

You’d caught snippets of what had happened here and there, but you didn’t know the fully story. You didn’t push for it either. It wasn’t your place. If he ever wanted to talk about it, you would listen, but, until then, you waited. That didn’t mean you didn’t want to know though. You desperately wish you knew so you could help him through this kind of stuff, if for no other reason. Draco squeezed your hands again, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

“You’re breathing a lot better. Do you think you can talk?” you asked, looking into his pale, drawn face. He swallowed thickly, but squeezed your hand. 

“Yes,” he croaked. 

“Alright, can you tell me five things you can see?” you prompted. His eyes shifted around the room. 

“I can see you,” he started. 

“That’s one,” you said encouragingly. 

“The wardrobe, the clock, our picture, and a shirt.” 

“Now four things you can feel.” This was a little game you played with him. It was grounding for him. You were glad it brought him back to reality. When it was over, it was like all the fight had gone out of his body. You made him take a few sips of water from the glass on the nightstand. He was drained, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep any more tonight. 

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?” you asked. 

“Will you?” 

“Of course. There’s no better time for it than-” you glanced at the clock “- 3:19 in the morning,” you said with a gentle smile. 

Quietly, you padded out to the kitchen to put the milk on the stove. You weren’t surprised to hear him shuffle in behind you a few minutes later. As expected, a head of disheveled blonde hair showed up in your peripheral vision. The crocheted blanket that usually laid over the end of the bed was now wrapped around his shoulders. You wished that, even in your peripheral, he didn’t look so small. He moved again. Then both him and the blanket were wrapped around you from behind. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into your neck. 

“Don’t be,” you said. 

“Why shouldn’t I be? I keep you up all damn night with my incessant whining constantly,” he said sounding offended on your behalf. 

“Yeah, you do, but I don’t mind much.” And you didn’t. 

“You’re making me hot chocolate at three o’clock in the morning, (Y/N). You must be tired of putting up with me,” he pressed. 

“Baby, if I was going to get tired of putting up with you, it would have happened ages ago,” you joked. In a way, he was right. He was definitely a pain in the ass sometimes, but he was worth it. There was a beat of silence. 

“Draco?” Your voice came out tentative. 

“Yes?” He sounded just as nervous. 

“Someday, and I by no means mean today, will you explain all this to me?” you asked. You felt his arms tighten around your waist and his jaw clench against your shoulder. 

“Everything?” 

“Everything you want to tell me.” 

“You’ll hate me,” he said, voice wavering slightly. 

“I won’t. Nothing will ever make me hate you,” you responded. You could tell he was scrunching his face up. 

“How can you be so sure?” He sounded small and scared again. Something in your brain told you that you should have left this for a different time. You smiled anyway. 

“Because I love you and you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not, Draco Malfoy,” you said. Your grin was evident in your voice. His face dropped so that his mouth was against your neck. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was him just resting his lips against your skin. Then he smiled just a little.

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Of course,” you said, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

When the hot chocolate was finished, topped with cinnamon, marshmallows, and all, the two of you sat at your tiny kitchen table. The heat from the drink was giving Draco a little bit of color in his cheeks. He still looked ragged, but he didn’t have that far off look in his eyes. That was good. The quiet seemed to be a little overwhelming to him though. You could tell by the way he was tapping his fingers against the ceramic with little clinking noises. Rubbing your own finger around the lip of your mug, you thought for a second, then smiled. 

“Music?” you asked. 

“Please. The silence is driving me crazy,” he sighed, relieved that you’d brought it up. 

“Me too.” Flicking on the old radio near the sink, an old crooning melody flowed through the speakers. It almost sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place where you’d heard it before. 

“This was the song that was playing when we first met,” Draco said quietly. 

“Hm?” You glanced at him, fingers hovering over the volume dial. 

“This song,” he said, a smile beginning to curl at the edges of his mouth, “was playing when you spilled your tea all over me-” 

“At the bakery,” you finished. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“It was hot tea,” he teased. The knot in your chest you hadn’t noticed before then began to loosen at his tired, yet light, tone.

“I meant the song. I didn’t even register there was music playing because I was so busy trying to clean you, apologize, and not laugh,” you said. A light flush crawled up across your cheeks remembering it. It had been pretty spectacular. 

“You were so flustered.” You stuck your tongue out at him. 

“All you did was stare at me. Yeah, I was flustered.” Pushing the blanket off his shoulders, he stood from his chair and moved so he could wrap his arms around you. 

“I couldn’t do anything else,” he said murmured into your hair, “It’s not everyday that the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen throws hot tea on you and snorts.” 

Beginning to sway to the music, you snorted a laugh. You knew he heard it even though you tried to muffle it by pressing your face against his chest. He smelled mostly of sweat with just a hint of his expensive cologne underneath. It wasn’t pleasant. You could overlook that while you rocked side to side in each other’s arms.

Dim, yellow light cast a glow through your little kitchen and over the two of you. It was late. There wasn’t a clock, so you weren’t sure what time it was, but it didn’t matter. There was still a lot you didn’t know about Draco, but that didn’t matter either. The promise of learning about him swirled in the air alongside the tune. Even if it wouldn’t be soon, you’d know. That was enough for you. As long as Draco was here in your arms, heart thumping steadily against your cheek, all of it was enough for right now. You’d never be glad for whatever had happened to him, but you’d forever be glad that, somehow, it brought him to you. 

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Hi Miss Drea! Hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. I was listening to my playlist today and this one song came up which is called Part of Me - By The Coast. I just felt this was a vampy and bloodbag song!

Stars are tracing the sky like city windows

I watch it reflect in your eyes

Slow dance on the New York City high rise

You and me on top of the world

It was chapter 5 I think in which Vampy and y/n have dinner in his balcony and Harry feels this sense of comfort wash over him. Even in chapter 11 , we witness him simping over her. He feels a sense of completion with her and an indescribable high.

And I'm feeling like it was only ever you

And I'm feeling like you are something I won't lose

Do I even need to say anything about this? Probably not, just soft feels!

You are a part of me

(You) I swear you'll always be

I swear you'll always be a part of me

No matter what happens in the end, whether or not they get a happy ending, Y/n will always be a part of Harry. He could wipe off her memories but a part of him will always remain with her. Harry could leave her for good but he can't escape the part of Y/n that will always be with him.

I'm not sure if I even really know me

Something in you feels like myself

There's a way I see you in this moment

I will hold it all of my life

After years of trauma, Harry has forgotten what it's truly like to let someone in and see his most vulnerable parts and y/n was hurt by Gherkin pickle the same so she doesn't probably look forward to sharing her intimate thoughts with anyone. Harry and y/n see themselves in each other which also makes them so compatible. Somehow they understand each other's trauma even though y/n hasn't been privy to all the shit Harry had to go through for loving someone dearly. Vampy always looks at y/n like she hung the moon and the same could be said for her. Though they don't openly express affection, it's always mixed with crude remarks, they both know how valuable they're for the other. No matter what happens when their story ends, they will carry a part of each other for the rest of their lives. Their relationship was a beautiful one while it lasted.

In the end I would just like to say you and Leyla have done a wonderful job in creating a fabulous story that captures the attention of reader flawlessly. Thank you for creating this story and creating a complex character like Vampirerry. I feel a lot of us can understand his apprehension when it comes to being vulnerable because it didn't end well for him when he did and he lost his faith in love. I relate to him because when you love someone with your whole being and they betray you, you see the whole love thing as bullshit and you refuse to let anyone in. You've created a perfect balance of love and hatred and I can only say one thing, you and Leyla scream talent. Thank you for blessing us with such a perfect story. We're proud of you! 🤎

Xx

Oh my god okay I just listened to it and I loved it so much the song is so beautiful and soft and just scratches a part of my brain I can’t explain 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 thank you SO much for sharing it, I added it to the playlist, and thank you for your little snippets of analysis of the characters and your reflections on their relationship 🥺🥺����🥺 I can never stress enough how much it means to writers for readers to deconstruct their storylines and the connections they create and send in their thoughts, it just feels incredible knowing that what we intended to communicate about our characters and their bond is working, and that you guys are enjoying seeing it unfold as much as we are!!!

Again, thank you thank you THANK YOU so much for sending this message in, it really made my day and seeing the fic through your eyes makes all the hard work worth it!! 💕