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legitalicat · 2 months

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"Maybe I Could Learn to Love You" - Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader

Grabbed the gif from sabrinaacarpenters

AN: To be real with y'all, We Become We from the Journey to Bethlehem soundtrack totally inspired this. I've not seen the movie but this song is blowing up on my tiktok.

Masterlist here!

Summary: Aemond could never choose to love another. Maybe you could learn to love him too.

CW: tooth rotting fluff, arranged marriage, I tried to be as neutral as possible for reader description, did use daughter 1 time and dear girl 1 time so presumably AFAB daughter, no other descriptors for reader, talks of wine

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

When you were ten, your father was named to King Viserys’ small council. As the younger brother of Lord Redwyne, nobody had anticipated the idea that he would have much more influence than a prominent land owner. So when King Viserys asked him to come to King’s Landing and serve in a new position dedicated to agriculture, he accepted immediately and brought you in hopes of securing your future.

That is how you met the young Prince Aemond. He was not much older than you, a year at most. At the time, he was still recovering from the Driftmark Incident as the servants in the castle called it. There had been no hope for saving his eye, and so he was relearning to do everything.

Aemond Targaryen was smitten with you from the beginning. His mother had originally had to argue with him to meet you, as he was the closest person in age to you and perhaps in you he would find a friend. He had never been too fond of people, losing his eye doing nothing to help that. Yet, he had never been more grateful for his mother’s insistence than when he saw you.

It was only you and your father, your mother having died a few years prior. And Aemond’s singular eye focused on you exiting the carriage, much too distracted by discussing a book with your father to notice the Royal Family had come to greet you. When you finally did, your eyes widened, stuttering and stammering apologies about your rudeness.

“Please never apologize for your passions,” he spoke quickly. A bit too quickly, perhaps, as he thought about how that may have been the place of his father or even his mother. But already you had enraptured him and he would not make any apologies for that.

In the days and months following, his mother had arranged with your father that you and Aemond become companions. Unbeknownst to you, a promise had been made. Your father allow her son to be by your side and you would marry a prince.

All you cared about was having a friend. You had expected King’s Landing to feel rather lonely. You left behind cousins and friends in The Arbor. And while knowing that the King and Queen had four children, you had been under the assumption you would be kept separate. So, when your lessons with the Septa were held with Aemond, you were equally surprised and grateful.

Over the years, Aemond’s affections for you only grew. He loved spending time with you, requiring his every waking moment be spent with you. As you grew older and the need for propriety became an issue, he was more than happy to have Ser Criston or even one of the Cargyll twins to accompany the two of you. It didn’t matter to him what you did or who was around. If he had you, he was happy.

You had been in King’s Landing for six years when you were formally betrothed to Aemond, to be married within a moon of your eighteenth birthday. It took you by complete surprise. It made sense, you supposed. If you looked back on the years, you could see how your friendship with Aemond was considered a courtship. He was ecstatic at the news, you were neutral.

It wasn’t a bad idea. Aemond seemed to truly care for you. You knew if your marriage had to be political, better it be to a man such as Aemond. He was good and kind to you, handsome if you were asked to give your opinion. You did not mind his scar or the eyepatch he wore.

Aemond was only slightly disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm at your impending marriage. He figured it was nerves. Coming from a noble house but not being the daughter of its Lord may have caused them when you were presented with such an advantageous marriage. Or perhaps you were so overcome with joy that you were merely struck speechless. He did not mind either way.

It was on your eighteenth birthday that he learned the love he bore you was one sided. He had overheard you speaking to his mother as she gave you a gift. It was a piece of jewelry her mother had once owned, given to you as a way to welcome you. You attempted to deny it. And at her insistence, you confessed why.

“Aemond will be a good husband, but I do not love him. It would feel wrong to accept such a beautiful heirloom as such,” you had explained shyly.

“Dear girl, you marriage may not be one of love, but you are still joining my family. And you are someone familiar with my home, the home my children may never get to see. Perhaps in this, you can feel connected to our home and teach your children of it,” she explained, placing the necklace around your neck.

Despite the ache in his chest that you did not feel for him what he felt for you, he was not any less determined. He loved you. That would not change.

The day before your wedding, he approached you. You had been so busy in the last week, making final preparations for the day. You were nervous now. It was obvious when he saw you. And despite the fact you did not love him, he knew you still considered him your friend.

“Come with me, my love,” he said softly to you, a book in hand.

Since your betrothal, little pet names are all he called you. You never minded. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. You enjoyed the knowledge that every member of court who thought Aemond was cold could see that he adored you. It may have been wrong, but you felt so powerful in knowing a man such as he could be weak only for you. Perhaps that was why you never made a fuss. You were lucky, luckier than most, in having your intended so dedicated and devoted to you.

“Where are we going?” you asked him as he began to lead you down the corridor.

He brought you to the weirwood tree. It was often a good place for the two of you to catch a moment of peace. A guardsman would stand at the entrance to the gardens and pay little mind to the small touches Aemond let linger over you. Here, you felt safe and connected to your roots. Here, you felt as though you and Aemond truly were friends.

He sat on the ground, offering you a hand for assistance for sitting gracefully. He knew you were not one of grace, but he thought it cute that you were as coordinated as a newborn lamb. And you were ever so grateful for that fact.

“Lay your head in my lap and I shall read to you,” he told you quietly.

You were relieved to have this small moment of reprieve from the stresses of planning an event as grand as this. You had been coordinating with your uncle for the wine for the wedding, with Lord Tyrell for extra grains so that you may have your sweets, with many bards throughout the kingdoms to find one to play their music. The Queen and your father took some of the organizing off your shoulders, of course, but you needed this to be perfect.

And so, you laid your head in his lap. He stroked your hair with one hand as he held the book with the other, his deep voice reading the words of a love story to you. You looked up at him. He was truly handsome. The angles of his jawline and his prominent nose made goose pimples rise across your skin. His lilac eye was focused on the page and not you, but it soothed you nonetheless. And his hair…you could not wait until you were married so as to be able to openly touch it.

“You are staring awfully hard, darling. Do I have something on my face?” he asked, his eye flickering from the page to you.

“Remove it,” you whispered.

“We have been over this,” he said quietly. This conversation was the only time he ever seemed cross with you. His jaw clenched every time.

“Yes, I am aware you stated not before we were wed. But it is tomorrow. And I wait to gaze upon the entirety of my husband before I am bound to him before the gods,” you told him, offering a coy smirk.

“If you wish to gaze upon the entirety of me, might I suggest we move to my chambers?” he asked with his own smirk.

You could not help but laugh. He felt comfortable enough with you to laugh, joke, and tease. You were grateful that you could grant him this existence.

“Please, Aemond. How can you expect me to marry you and partake in what is to come if you do not trust me enough to show me you?” you asked him quietly. He knew you spoke of the wedding ceremony that was to be held, and how you feared it, but you had assured him you would do it for him.

You could see how jaw clench again, his nostrils flaring slightly. You had always felt the liberty to argue against him. It was one of the things he loved about you, how you forgot what was expected of you to speak your mind.

But finally, his hand withdrew from your hair as he placed the book aside. Perhaps you had spoken too freely and finally he was getting angry with you. Instead, his hands reached behind his own head.

He had the strap unfastened yet did not remove it. He looked to you. A genuine fear could be seen on his face.

“And if you decide it is too disgusting to gaze upon? What shall I be expected to do then?” he asked you in a quiet voice.

“It would not dissuade me from marrying you,” she told him. It was true, in equal parts because you knew there was no chance of that changing now and the fact you knew you were lucky to be marrying a man such as this. “Though I suppose I would order a bag be kept over your head. Or perhaps only approach you in dark rooms.”

It was a tease, you both knew it. But he was still worried about how much truth hung in your words. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by him.

Seeing how uneasy Aemond still was, you reached up and placed your hand on his. “You love me?” you asked him quietly.

“I could never choose to love another,” Aemond said quickly to you, confirming to you what you already knew.

“Then have faith in me that I will not turn or cower. Have faith in me that I want this marriage, this life, with you,” you told him gently as you began to slowly pull your hand away, bringing his along.

He allowed his hands to be removed, holding the eyepatch in them. The piece of leather had made its indention in his skin from being fastened too tightly. Your eyes then focused on the dazzling blue sapphire that had been secured in the socket.

Aemond noticed how your gaze softened, your entire body going lax. He began to quickly attempt to hide himself, feeling flustered as his pale skin flooded red. A panic built up in him.

“No,” you whispered, taking hold of his hands again. “Please. Do not hide this beauty from me. If you wish to wear it in public, I will stand by that decision. But it would do me a great disservice if you hid away such art when we are alone.”

Your wedding was perfect, if Aemond had any opinion on it. Your hard work had paid off tenfold. Every guest had enjoyed the feast after you were bound to Aemond. It felt like your greatest accomplishment, proving you were up to this insurmountable task of marrying a prince.

When all the Lords were too overtaken by their food and drink to notice, Aemond took your hand and led you away from the main hall. For a moment, you worried about how it would look if you were to be seen alone together. Then you remembered you were now married and felt relieved, albeit a little stupid.

“Where are we going? We will be missed,” you said, giggling a bit as you followed close behind him.

“Most are too drunk to remember they have toes, I doubt we will be missed too much,” he assured you.

You followed him in silence. It was sweet, you thought, that he was eager to finally have a true moment alone with him. He allowed himself to be soft with you, something you adored. It allowed an ease to be felt between the two of you.

The two of you trekked through the entirety of the Keep. Upstairs, downstairs, around corners, and through doorways you didn’t know existed. Then he brought you through a last doorway that lead into one of the apartments that you had never before been in.

It was a room almost too grand to imagine. It was filled with an inexplicable warmth you had missed since first coming to King’s Landing. The furniture was the standard styles of all the Keep’s furniture, being obviously expensive and well crafted. What caught your eye was the subtleties of it.

Grape vines had been made to grow so that they hung over the windows. You could smell the salty sea water of Blackwater Bay with every small gust of wind. A bowl of peaches laid on the bedside table. The duvet on the bed was a deep burgundy as though it were made from the sweetest wine.

“It occurred to me that you have not returned home since you arrived,” Aemond’s voice entered your ears.

You had been too busy looking over everything to remember his existence. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were keeping and tears flooded to your eyes. The room felt exactly like how you remembered The Arbor.

He lead you to the windows, holding your waist with one hand. He kept you on his right side, his good side, as he did so. He looked down at you as you looked up to him.

“Part of your wedding gift is that I have ensured there will be no bedding ceremony,” he whispered while placing his hand on your chin.

“Aemond, I…there are no words,” you stammered out, as your eyes widened. There was no way you could imagine how it was possible. It was expected of royalty.

“Your other part, is this,” he told you. With a gentle grip, he turned your face outwards before removing his touch.

It was beautiful. The night sky littered with stars, the Bay extending into the horizon, forgetting the existence of the land that it was meant to wash away. Lights flickering had dotted the landscape.

“I fear I do not understand,” you whispered, looking to him confused. You realized he had taken his eyepatch off while you weren’t paying attention. Once again your breath was taken from you.

He looked from the beauty of the night to you. You were his own private beauty, one that he would get to keep for his entire life.

“I know you do not love me,” he told you, shaking his head when you began to say something. “No, no, I understand. And it does not deter me from loving you every moment of my life.”

“I want to love you,” you whispered breathlessly.

“It is okay if you do not. But my gift to you is a promise,” he said, his fingers running along your jawline. “I am the second son of a king who cannot remember how to chew his food, let alone care for his family. I have never held any lands, nor have I ever proved myself in battle. But my heart and soul are yours. We can go wherever you wish. I will build you a castle from the ground to the stars with nothing but my hands if you asked me to. I promise you I will spend every breath giving you every star. I will give you my entirety.”

You didn’t look away from him. Your heart was pounding against your chest, every moment feeling like you were seconds away from crying. Whenever you thought of love and devotion, this was what you thought of. He was willing to set the world on fire for you even without the promise of love.

“Maybe I could learn to love you, too.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #dividers by benkeibear

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altocat · 4 months

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THE FIRST SOLDIER: CHAPTER 6

It's time, folks! After five agonizing months of waiting, we FINALLY get a story update. And I'm here to recap for your convenience! So, spoilers below under the cut.

Story opens up ten days after Shinra reinforcements arrived on the island. They're building a reactor via a site dig. Glenn and crew have been watching Rosen's smoke for days now just in case.

Lucia remarks that Sephiroth did most of the heavy lifting in terms of prep. Glenn is getting ready to celebrate with their upcoming bonus. Sephiroth isn't interested in pay though according to him.

An engineer calls them over and tells them they need to go kill monsters in the area. When Glenn asks where Sephiroth is, the engineer tells him that he's out scavenging corpses and that it's kind of creepy.

Seph has apparently been going off on his own for a while. Lucia suggests they go look for him while they take care of the monsters.

Ugh. More filler monsters. And of course the level cap is trillions of numbers ahead that of the last chapter's. This fucking game smh.

The music on this section is nice. EC has a good soundtrack ngl. Better than it deserves, in my opinion.

After an incredibly tedious fight with a recolored ostrich monster, the gang comes across a shard of materia in the ground. This comes into play later.

They find Sephiroth digging around corpses at the old Rhadoran base. He clarifies that it might LOOK creepy but he's actually looking for the picture of his mother. Like most children with precious comfort items, he ended up dropping it somewhere and he's looking through the bodies to see if it's somehow under them.

So here's some clarification, the photograph is NOT a photograph so much as a locket/necklace that Sephiroth wears. So it's not in his front pocket, he's wearing it around his neck. Neat.

The gang offers to help him look for it, taking out filler monsters in between. Sephiroth mentions that he feels the need to protect the team as the leader. That's his job. There's some cute banter between Seph and the trio. Awww.

All the Rhadorans except Rosen are gone now. Matt keeps going on and on about their religion--Planetology. Lucia is unfamiliar with this concept and Matt explains the concept of mana and souls returning to the planet to Sephiroth.

Glenn feels REALLY guilty now about what they did to the Rhadorans, worried they'll just be forgotten since they're gone now. Kinda too late for that, bud. And now it's just Rosen left alone.

Hojo mention from Seph btw. Hojo told Sephiroth "No matter how logically you explain something, there will always be people who don't understand because they have a different view of the world."

When Glenn worries about the Rhadorans being forgotten, Sephiroth takes what he learned from Glenn earlier about compassion to heart, saying that the PLANET will remember them.

Glenn understands how important mana is now. It's life force, life energy. That's why the Rhadorans hated what Shinra was doing.

They can't seem to find the necklace anywhere. Sephiroth is glumly resigned to accept that it's gone for good.

Instead, thanks to Glenn's sudden moral dilemma, they decide to bury the Rhadorans as a means of "apologizing". Sephiroth eagerly offers to help.

While they're burying the bodies, the island starts shaking. The reactor dig is going to start soon. And THAT'S what will awaken the mana overflow Rosen mentioned earlier. They'll set off explosives that will start a chain reaction. Sephiroth says they're going to have to evacuate.

They're blocked by a bunch of branches. Seph finds the materia fragment from earlier and uses it to incinerate the area to make a path. Glenn gushes over how cool Seph is.

Seph cuts down a big tree to make a bridge too. Glenn thinks Seph is SUPER FUCKING RAD OKAY. Seph asks if he's impressed with his "cyborg powers" and Glenn says no, not wanting to hurt Seph's feelings again.

Seph says that he feels he can say anything to the group and that he doesn't want them to hold back. Glenn is in full support mode now and he and Seph seem very in sync with each other. It's very cute. They've gotten close during the gap.

They find another materia shard during a blocked path of rushing water. Sephiroth uses it to freeze the water to move across.

Seph is eager to get his team back to the chief engineer, but Glenn is worried about Rosen. He wants to see if there's a way to make sure Rosen's safe but Seph says there's no time. Glenn seems to be ready to ask Seph something but then drops it.

This section is called "Inseparable". They arrive at the helicopters. Glenn wants to delay the dig so he can warn Rosen in time. But they've already started.

Glenn gets agitated and then punches the engineer, who threatens to tell HQ. Glenn doesn't give a fuck. Matt and Lucia decide to support Glenn. Sephiroth doesn't stop them.

Lucia hijacks one of the choppers and kicks a soldier out after holding them at gunpoint. They're going to fly over to Rosen's Island with it.

A monster shows up just as shit starts to get crazy. It's Stamp the goblin-frog! He's huge and mutated because of the mako. Glenn wants to finish him off for good.

They take care of Stamp and the group is going to go rescue Rosen and Refu. The other chopper throws down a ladder for them for the evacuation but the trio is basically defecting.

Matt said Sephiroth isn't fired because the chief knows that it was the trio's idea, not his. But they're going to have to leave Seph behind so he isn't dragged into this.

Glenn tells Sephiroth to stay safe as the trio departs. Sephiroth is visibly hesitating on whether or not to accept the ladder or follow the group after they've left.

The trio gets ready to take off in their hijacked chopper. And Sephiroth. Is going. WITH them.

Holy fucking shit Sephiroth tried to defy Shinra asrdfghkjgfd just so he could stay with his friends. I'm gonna cry. Fuck, I already am. INSEPARABLE. AHHHHH.

Overall, a decent chapter. Much better than I was expecting. Babyroth is so endearing and it's clear he's now very attached to the trio. Even more than Shinra. Him just suddenly losing the picture/necklace is kind of bullshit but whatever. I guess he had to lose it somehow? Maybe it'll turn up again later.

Sephiroth's rebellion will obviously have consequences later.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephcanons #sephiroth #ffvii first soldier #first soldier #ever crisis #ffvii ever crisis #spoilers #ff7ec #glenn lodbrok #matt winsord #lucia lin #hojo #holy fuck #an unexpected fucking twist if ever there was one

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butyou-callmewhenyourebored · 8 months

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Reading & Leeds AU Imagine

Summary: You meet four teenage lads at Leeds Fest in 2007 who change your life forever.

Warnings: Swearing. Vulgar language. Small shite section of smut. One use of y/n near the end. I nearly used my own name but then you can just imagine your own x

Author's Note: Here is the Leeds Fest AU that I've been going on about since the idea popped into my head the morning after I went to Leeds nearly two months ago. I don't think it's very good, definitely not my best work but it's finished I don't have to think about it anymore! But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Now got to find motivation to finish my other WIPS that I've abandoned!

Word Count: 6.4K Words

You thought you knew what proud was; there were many moments in your life that you could recall where you felt immense proudness for the four men that made up your best friends. The day they rang you to tell you they had signed their record deal, the day their first EP was released, the day their debut album went to number one, when they sold out Madison Square Garden, the day they first played Reading and Leeds, the first time they headlined Reading and Leeds. The list was endless.

But there was something about the way you felt today that surpassed all of that. Here you were at the side of the main stage at Leeds Festival about to watch your boys headline the festival that started it all. The 1975 was ringing out across the field, the kids were screaming and your heart was hammering in your chest in time with George’s drums as he kicked off The City to the delight of the crowd.

A celebration of the album that they dreamed of making when you met them. A celebration of the album that soundtracked not only the lives of their fans but yours and theirs too. A celebration of the band and every beautiful thing they had achieved in the past ten years surrounded by those they loved and those who loved them the most.

You had told Matty that you were unsure you’d make it today due to a work situation that had popped up which had sent him into a tizzy this morning because you had never missed a performance of theirs at Leeds, despite being at Reading with them just the night before but you couldn’t cancel this important meeting in London called by your manager late last night when you returned from Reading and you weren’t sure if you’d make it in time to see them back up North.

“But you have to be there darling. This is our thing!”He had huffed, as you reached for him and pulling him into your arms as you went to say goodbye.“Leeds is ours! Not Reading. Leeds! You have to be there.” He huffed.

He made your heart hurt as his lip quivered as he watched you hug the other boys and the thought of him being upset made you even more determined to make sure you were side of that stage in time for the opening bars of The City.

You watched as he ran about the stage, singing his little heart out. The kids screaming the words to The City back at the band. George had already sent you a smirk from his seat behind the box knowing fine well Matty would lose his shit when he clocked eyes on you. You looked out towards the audience; the excitement on their faces as they sung every word before turning to look back at your boys. Your hand immediately reaching to touch your box tattoo that sat on your thumb (matching with your friend behind the drum kit) as your heart soared with happiness for them.

When you looked up you found Ross with his eyes on you. A soft smile on his handsome face, your eyes locked on to one another for a brief moment that was abruptly interrupted by the roar of applause from the fans when the first song came to an end.

Bringing your hands to your mouth you cheered as loudly as you could; your laugh a sound Matty would recognise anywhere had him snapping his head in your direction. The moment he clapped eyes on you; he was beaming! His eyes bright and his smile even brighter knowing his best friend had made it. Pointing at you with a cheeky grin, he pulled the mic to his mouth quickly so you could hear him.

“Fucking knew you’d make it darling! This one is for you!” He announced as the intro to M.O.N.E.Y (one of your favourites) started up to more roars of noise.

2007

Leeds Festival was directly sewn into the DNA of your friendship with the group of teenage boys who went on to be the band The 1975. Having being the place you had met all those many moons ago when headlining the festival was only a dream for them. Now they were about to headline the festival for the third time in four years and proud didn’t even cut it for how you felt for those boys.

You weren’t sure how your life would have turned out if you hadn’t met them the summer of 2007 or if you had simply set up your tent next to somebody else but you were forever grateful for your cousin and “friends" (at the time) for dragging you along because your life was enriched in every aspect because of them.

Trekking through the fields to find your camp sight was proving difficult when your cousin and his mates were pissing about and collectively had about two braincells between them. So you took it upon yourself to march ahead and find the nearest available space and dumping your tent and rucksack on the ground to reserve the spot.

“Oi dickheads! Over here!” You shouted towards the direction of your idiot cousin.

Waiting for him; his two mates and the girlfriends of said friends, who I guess you could call your friends too to make their way over. You took a look around at your neighbours for the next four days. Next to you was a group of teenage boys who were setting up their tents, the one setting up their little camping stove looked up at you at your outburst. God he was pretty you thought as you took in his casual appearance.

“You mind if we grab this spot?”

“Not at all love. Matty.” He held out his hand as he introduced himself.

Shaking his hand; you introduced yourself with a polite smile before shimmying your tent out of it’s bag as your cousin and his pals all appeared, dumped their stuff on the floor before announcing they were going to explore. Therefore leaving you to look after their shit and to attempt to put up your tent by yourself. After ten minutes, several failed attempts and numerous curses towards your absent cousin when the rest of your neighbours appeared.

The tall, dark and handsome one introduced himself first.

“Hi, I’m Ross. You need a hand with that?”

When you turned to look at him; he was wearing jeans and a hoodie and a soft smile on his face. Nodding at his offer, you explained about your useless cousin and that you didn’t have great hopes for the weekend given that he had already fucked off.

“Don’t worry you can chill with us. They’re pretty useless too but we get by!” He chuckled; nodding in the direction of his mates. “That’s Adam, but we call him Hann and that’s George.” He grinned as you waved at his equally cute mates.

It was as simple as that. You barely spoke to your cousin that weekend. Just let your friendly neighbours cart you around the festival, getting drunk with them and letting them hoist you up on their shoulders as you watched multiple acts that weekend. During your down time, you sat around the campfire and got to know one another. You found out they were from not far from you in Manchester, they were all around the same age, they were all single apart from Hann. And they found out that you really did hate your cousin’s mates and you were newly single after your boyfriend of two years cheated on you and that you were hoping to go to uni to study music.

Giddily telling you that they were all in a band together as you revealed this information; you listened to Matty ramble on about what he wanted to do with his best friends and where he wanted the band to go in terms of their career and you couldn’t help but watch him earnestly as he spoke so passionately about it. Leaning on your knees; you rested your face in the palm of your hands as you listened intently, wrapped up in the jumper Ross had leant you as the evening grew cold with a smile on your face.

It was refreshing to listen to a teenage boy talk with so much passion about something instead whatever shit your cousin and his mates were chatting shite about, you couldn’t even stand to converse with the girlfriends it was that bad. You think you’d have let him pull you around this muddy park and talk your ear off all night that’s how much you enjoyed his company.

The last night of the festival; off the back of the giddiness of watching the Red Hot Chilli Peppers with the boys and screaming your favourite lyrics back at the band from your spot upon George’s shoulders. You giddily jumped into Matty’s arms when you dismounted the drummer and let him slip his hand in yours as you all made your way back towards your campsite.

You lost the rest of the boys at some point within the masses of people; so you took your time making your way back, swinging your arms between one another and spinning each other round. You were so happy! You arrived three days ago in a bit of a mood if you were being honest that your brother hadn’t been able to come with you and you were stuck with those imbeciles but the boys in your neighbouring tents truly had made your entire experience worth it.

So when Matty pulled you to a stop as you neared your respective tents; George’s laugh could be heard from where you had stopped and swept a piece of fallen hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek in his hand with a soft mutter of, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Before leaning down and closing the gap between the two of you. You melted into him.

When his lips connected with yours; you immediately reciprocated his actions, allowing him to pull you in close and kiss you like you were the air he needed to breath. You weren’t entirely sure how long you were kissing in the middle of the campsite though but you pulled away giggling, beaming brightly when you saw Matty grinning back at you. Feeling brave you pushed yourself up to peck his lips again before pulling him towards your destination, past all his friends who were hooted and hollered when they caught onto to where you guys were off to but you didn’t care because you wanted reckless, you wanted to feel something, you wanted fun.

And ohhhh was Matty fun!

He was gentle in the way he brushed your hair from your face as you kissed down his stomach before pulling his already hard cock out. His grip tight in holding your hair in a ponytail so it was away from your face as you kissed the tip before licking a stripe underneath all the way from his balls until you enveloped the tip in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks you took him in as he groaned underneath you, his moans encouraging you to continue as you let him continuously hit the back of your throat.

It wasn’t long before his grip tightened in your hair and he was cumming in your mouth; swallowing everything he gave you, you pulled off his cock with a pop before he was attacking your mouth with his own as he dived on top of you.

“God going to be thinking about your mouth for years sweetheart.” He mumbled against your skin before returning the favour.

2013

It had been a good several years since your last visit to Leeds Festival but thankfully it hadn’t been that long since you last saw the boys you met in the neighbouring tent during your first time there. After you packed up your tents the next morning you vowed to stay in touch with them, exchanging numbers with all the boys and promises of drinks when you were both home etc not really expecting much of it because they were teenage boys.

A hour after you returned home, your phone buzzed as messages flooded your inbox from Matty and George, Ross & Adam respectively although they weren’t as persistent as Matthew. You met up with Matty the next weekend, he drove up to see you in Manchester and you made out in the back of his car like the horny teenagers you were. You never slept with Matty during your brief time together but you both got very acquainted with one another on the couple of occasions you did meet up alone.

It wasn’t long after that you decided you were better off as friends and you didn’t mix business with pleasure again! Much to Matty’s disappoint after all he was a man and they only think with their cocks anyway. You continued being friends, you went to their gigs (even when you were the only one there), they visited you at uni, they celebrated your first big writing gig, you celebrated the release of their EPs. You celebrated everything together no matter how big or small.

You truly were the best of friends so when they rang you one afternoon whilst you were in the studio writing, you couldn’t even get out a “Guys you’re on a speaker, I’m just in the studio” before they were all screaming down the phone about their news that they had been asked to play at Leeds.

“That’s fucking insane! I’m so proud of you. Congratulations!”

“You have to be there babe! We can’t do this without you!” Matty screamed down the phone.

“Yeah we can’t play Leeds without our number one girl can we?” Ross’ voice could be heard next, at a normal decibel, obviously.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Is what you told them and you stuck to your word as you watched Matty pace nervously before they were about to step onstage to a large crowd of people eager to see them perform.

“Matty.” You called out for him as he chewed his thumb nail, ignoring you. “Matthew!” You raised your voice loud enough to get his attention finally on you, “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been buzzing all week to finally perform at Leeds. What’s changed?”

“Nervous.”

Your heart stopped as you took your friend’s nervous appearance in as you stopped in front of him and grabbing both his hands in your own. “I’ve never known you to be nervous ever. These people are here to see you, they’ve chosen you over any other tent or stage. They want to see my four best friends because you’re fucking brilliant, okay?” You told him firmly, squeezing his hands supportively, hoping to get through to him.

“Okay.” He smiled softly at you.

“Now what can I do to help with these nerves of yours?”

You asked innocently (of course) but Matty’s eyes lit up; a smirk dancing across his pretty features before lowing his gaze to his crotch. Pulling your hands from his in disgust you looked at him disapprovingly. “Eww gross. I’m not blowing you!”

“Baby please.” He whined; nipping at your waist as he attempted to pull your body into his own and holding you against him.

Looking over your shoulder; you cast glance at the other boys who were watching the interaction. Hann rolled his eyes at you, Ross was shaking his head as he sunk back his beer. George merely smirked; shrugging his shoulders as if to say it wasn’t a bad idea.

“If it takes care of the nerves.” George spoke.

“Ohh I’ll blow all of you then shall I?” You sassed back.

“If you’re offering?” George grinned.

“G don’t be fucking gross. I’m not touching any of you!” You laughed shortly. “Just do some tequila and get out there before I leave before you get the chance to even pick up a pair of drumsticks!” You threatened.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood side of stage and watched as the boys were belting out the tunes to an enthusiastically drunk crowd who were loving life. Ross turned to look at you during chocolate; a look of pure disbelief that the hundreds strong crowd knew every single word. You shook your head with a chuckle, teary eyes and a bright smile because you absolutely could believe they would know every single word because your boys were fucking brilliant and they deserved every single second of it.

As the set came to a close to a rapturous applause; Matty turned to catch your eye with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen before running towards you and jumping into your arms and gripping you so tight, you thought you’d be catapulted backwards if it wasn’t for Ross holding on to both of you. A high squeal leaving your lips as Matty assaulted your face with kisses like an excited puppy dog before pressing his lips to your own.

You were so proud of him you didn’t have it in you to scold him for it.

2019

The noise that came out of your mouth when the boys told you they had been asked to headline Leeds Fest 2019 can only be described as unhinged! Probably wishing they had told you over face time, Adam the unlucky sod who happened to be stood next to you the moment you found out and nearly had his arm ripped out the socket as you jumped up and down with pure excitement before pulling him into the biggest hug you could muster before jumping a top of George and pressing a lingering kiss to Ross’ cheek before you launched yourself at Matty and squeezing him so tight like it would be the last thing you ever did.

You partied hard that night, celebrating everything they had achieved in order to get to headlining that one place that you all held so dear to your hearts. They say people hold sentimental places that remind you of loved ones close to them, it just so happened that; that muddy field just outside of Leeds was what meant the most to the five of you because it’s where you found one another. It’s where you finally felt whole once they stumbled into your life.

So when Matty drunkly proclaimed “We’ve got to have you with us sweetheart! It’s tradition. You’re our good luck charm!” Loudly down your ear, whilst draping himself over your shoulder in an attempt to stay standing.

Not that you would say no but who were you to ever deny your best friend’s wishes. Especially when they were finally getting to do the one thing they told you they wanted to do together when you first met them all those years ago and the fact they wanted you by their side meant more than anything.

And here you were backstage at Leeds fest waiting for your best friends in the entire world to go and blow the socks off the festival. You were stood next to Matty who was fidgeting so much it was starting to concern you how nervous he actually was about the headlining slot. Slipping your spare hand into his; your other was wrapped around Ross’ as he conversed with Hann, you pulled away from the bassist so you could talk with the singer more privately.

Pulling Matty away from their crew; you took his hand softly, rubbing your thumb back and forth across the back of it in hopes of soothing his nerves. Matty didn’t say a word but he couldn’t stand still. You pulled on his hand tighter and towards you so you were in each other’s personal space.

“Darling what’s wrong?”

“Just fucking nervous. A lot of people out there.” His nervous chuckle reaching your ears before he started chewing on his thumb nail.

Slapping his hand away from his mouth, you pulled on both of his hands tightly and made sure that he was looking right at you as spoke.

“When has that ever stopped you going out their and being brilliant before, ehh? You have wanted this for so so long. For as long as I’ve known you. You deserve this so much babe, more than anyone else I know. Do you want to know a little secret?” You watched his curls bounce as he nodded at your words. “When I met you, you told me all about your plans for the band. Told me you were going to headline Leeds Fest one day and in that moment I knew that I liked the shit of you! Thought it was so hot that you were so driven and so passionate about something. And look at you now. Three number one albums. Biggest band in the world and about to do the one thing you told me you were going do when we met twelve years ago. All those people out there choose to come and see you because they love you. I love you.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“That’s what you took from that?” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s what I do best!” He shrugged; pulling you into his arms. “So you going to blow me after this too?” He whispered saying in your ear; as he hugged you tightly.

“You’re so fucking annoying!” You pulled out of his embrace, “You’d be fucking lucky Healy! I’m more likely to blow Hann than you again babe!” You threw him a smirk; so he knew you were joking about his best mate.

“Wait, who’s blowing Hann?” George asked; appearing with Ross and Hann with what could only be impeccable timing.

“Me! Told Healy I’m more likely to blow Hann after your performance than go near his cock again!” You told them casually with a shrug and throwing Adam a wink as the guitarist shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle. “Just a little pep talk and Matthew was being Matthew about the situation!”

“Well if you’re offering up blowies! I’m always down!” George threw his hand up like he was volunteering with a massive grin on his face as he nudged Adam in the ribs who also had a stupidly large grin on his face as they teased you.

“You’re all so fucking annoying which is why the only person I’d be considering to blow is Ross because currently he’s the only one with manners! Now fuck off and blow the socks off the fans!” You grinned; shoving them in the direction of the stage. Throwing your own arm around Ross’ waist, Matthew’s around your own as you all ascended on the stage, your heart pounding as you watched them walk out to rapturous applause. The feral screams growing louder between each song and you knew that you had never been prouder of anyone in your life than your best friend’s living their dreams.

2023

You had never loved George Daniel more than the day he turned round and introduced you to his new girlfriend because you gained a best for life in the absolutely wonderful and insanely beautiful Charli XCX. You loved her plain and simple! Never was a more selfless girl; you needed anything and she was by your side and offering you her hand, you needed a hype man she was the girl for the job or you just needed a little retail therapy and a bottle of wine, Charli would be at your door ready to go so when it was announced that she was going to be playing Leeds Festival just as the boys were about to embark on their new era. You knew you would be by her side cheering her on and going an absolute feral for that babe of woman! And when the boys were announced as the replacement headliners you could have burst!

Charli was set to perform her set just before the lads were so you knew your evening was going to be chaotic but you couldn’t wait but when she asked you to be by her side and during your favourite song. As flabbergasted as you were by the offer, you couldn’t really say no. When would you ever get the chance to perform at Leeds Festival again? Never!

But it was the way your best friends eyed you from side of stage; clad in an identical leather outfit to Charli’s that left nothing to the imagination. You felt a large calloused hand weave it’s way into your own and squeeze tightly, whispering a soft; “You’ve got this darling.” Before pressing a kiss to your temple just as Charli announced your entrance just as Rina’s verse of Beg For You was about to start.

“I want to introduce you to my best friend to the stage for the next song. She’s a bit shy so please be nice but she’s fucking incredible. Welcome to the stage y/n!”

What happened after you stepped on stage was all some sort of blur, you couldn’t really remember all that much apart from the video that Matty (and the rest of the band) recorded of you from the side of stage, the boys all screaming as you ran off stage and jumping into the nearest pair of arms, which just so happened to be Ross’. The adrenaline that coursed through you then seeped into watching the boys’ set and into the after party. Where you and Charli were necking back the tequila like it was water and had you dancing on the tables and grinding on anyone you could get your hands on.

Nobody was safe from you and Charli’s feral behaviour that evening as you celebrated your friend’s wins and that included your best friend who you had taken to making out with, pulling him into a several kisses that seemed to get more erotic as the night went on much to the shock and then immediate thrill of your friends as they squealed and cheered on your behaviour every single time like you weren’t potentially jeopardising fifteen years of friendship with Ross just because you were on a high and feeling a little giddy.

You were also a woman with eyes!

Something nobody was doing the morning after as you all travelled back to London with your tail between your legs and pounding headaches. Attempting to sleep it off on the drive home, you rested your head against Hann’s shoulder and tried to block out Matty’s talking, something that you were usually quite good at but to no avail when you felt like you were in about to slip into a tequila induced coma.

By the time you got back to London and to your respective locations; you felt yourself being nudged awake before being gently pulled away from Hann who sweetly pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as Ross got out of the van before pulling you sleepily into your apartment building. No words were exchanged between the two of you as he unlocked your shared apartment or whilst he made you both a cuppa. You couldn’t decide if it was because he was just as horrifically hungover as you or because of what transpired between the two of you the night before and didn’t know how to act around you now because you had well and truly fucked everything up.

You never spoke about it. Just carried on as normal just as you and Matty did fifteen years prior and you thought you had done a pretty good job at acting normal too. You carried on sharing your flat and cohabiting as if it didn’t happen and then he went off to America for the start of At Their Very Best. Then once you were reunited on his return home from tour you thought that everything would be fine but it seemed that your emotions or seemingly your hormones were supercharged and all the lingering touches and sweet exchanges that usually came with your relationship had all come to a head about two weeks before they were due to headline Leeds fest again.

Whilst the boys had been on tour and doing the festival circuit during the summer you had taken to dating again. You use the term dating very loosely you had been on a handful of dates with one guy, a producer friend of Charli’s. It had been a few weeks since you had seen him due to the busy nature of your careers but you were supposed to be heading on another date with him tomorrow and you were ready to take it to the next level.

Stood in front of your full length mirror you admired the intricate white lace of the lingerie that donned your tanned skin wondering if Patrick would like it or not when your bedroom door burst open. Not hearing his heavy footsteps approach as you stood in next to nothing; you jumped in fright, as an also topless Ross was now looking at you with a startled expression on his handsome face.

“Babe have you seen my favourite ju … jumper” He stuttered as he stopped and drunk in your appearance. “Ehhh why are you? Why ehhh? I mean why?” He was gesturing towards your lingerie clad body.

“I have a date tomorrow.” Your voice quiet but Ross heard it; your eyes just as wide as his when you took in his own appearance. Grey joggers, bare chest, hair tied up in a bun and the bastard cursive tattoo of your initial, that still makes your stomach flip every time you see it, etched into the skin near his left collarbone.

Ross simply nodded in response, not knowing what else to say. Noting that as his eyes travelled up your legs, over the tiny bit of delicate fabric that was covering your modesty, up to how your tits sat gloriously in the white lace, he noticed it. He noticed as you stood in the best set of lingerie he’d ever seen on anyone ever, that right there balancing in between your tits on a dainty gold chain was the necklace with a small ‘R’ on it.

Without another word said between the pair of you; he turned with a curt nod of his head without getting his answer knowing fine well that it would be somewhere in your room. But he had plenty of other jumpers he could wear. He just needed to just get out of there before he made a tit of himself. Heading straight back to his room across the hall, he paced his bedroom floor in hopes of getting the image of you stood in your underwear out of his head before he got a problem, not knowing that across the hall you were staring at his retreating figure unsure of what to do.

Picking up your phone you sent an apologetic text to Patrick to let him know the date was cancelled before chucking your phone amongst your pillows and marching across the hallway. Just as you reached up your arm to knock; Ross’ bedroom door was ripped off its hinges and stalling you, both of your chests heaving as you came face to face. Neither of you choosing to cover yourselves up in the moments you were apart.

Looking up at him; you caught sight of the gold chain he’d been wearing recently sitting against the chest hair that littered his toned chest before your eyes drifted to the left. Your heart tripling in speed knowing you were etched on his skin forever. Ross’s eyes immediately went back to your tits, not in a weird way even if they did look glorious in the white lace but the golden ‘R’ that sat between them.

Returning your gaze to his face; you weren’t entirely sure how long you were staring at each other before you surged towards one another in a flurry of pent up tension as you pawed at one another. Your hands immediately gripping at his hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to groan into your mouth. His hands gripping your ass as he pulls you flushed against him. Your mouths pressed together as you snogged like it was the last thing you guys would ever do before Ross was slamming his bedroom door and throwing you on the bed and staring at you like you were the best thing he had ever seen. And you were.

Your night of passion with Ross happened two weeks ago and whilst he had gone back to work leaving you at home and to do your own job. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it. It was affecting your studio time and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. You brushed past one another briefly whilst he nipped home to quickly put a wash on in between packing again before heading to Reading and Leeds. But you didn’t speak to one another in the van on the way down. Opting to talk with George about a new track idea he had been thinking about and he wanted your opinion on how to set it up lyrically.

When you got to Reading. The boys were rushed off for a quick sound check whilst you milled about backstage, getting drinks and greeting over artists you knew from work so you didn’t really get the chance to to talk to him. Then they were on stage. Then it was the after party. Then you were hungover and telling a sad looking Matty that you weren’t sure you could make it due to a work thing and sending them all on their way as you tried not to cry at the sadness in your best friend’s eyes as he looked at you like a sad puppy from the car window with pout on his face.

As you were sat in your meeting about an important contract working with an incredible artist on her next album. You caught yourself completely zoned out and thinking about him again. Over the course of all the the times you found yourself thinking about your night with Ross over the past week; you tried to figure out if it was because it was just because the tension had finally snapped with living under close quarters again after your multiple kisses or because it quite literally the best sex you’ve ever had or because under all of that, it was your Ross.

Your Ross. Your sweet best friend who helped you out any and every situation that you found yourself in, the person who hyped you up and celebrated your wins with you, the person who surprised you with your initial tattooed onto his skin because he just loved you so much he wanted you with him forever. Who then turned round and told you he never wanted you to feel pressured to do the same so gifted you the most beautiful gold necklace with his own on, you’ve never taken it off.

The person who when he come home from tour; buys you flowers as a welcome home surprise and displays them on your dining room table. The person who buys you little nicknacks when he’s abroad because it reminds him of you and thinks you’d love it. As you let your brain mull over this information whilst your manager went over the boring bits of the deal, you realised he was your person and you needed to get Leeds and you needed to get up North to him now. Pulling the ‘emergency’ card, you left your manger to to take any important notes and you darted out of the building, texting your driver to meet you out the front asap before you were speeding out of London and heading to the place that started it all.

You raced up North to get to the festival and just about managing to get there in one piece. Flinging your weekend bag in their green room; you went to run back out when something caught your eye, Ross’ hoodie from the last night. Pulling it over your head; a complete dress on you and covering your own outfit, you quickly untucked you necklace so it proudly displayed on top, you ran towards the main stage as you heard end of your song as George’s launched into to The City. You had just about made it; as you weaved in and out of the crowds of people to get to the side of stage at lightening speed.

Squeezing through the bodies of the crew who were littered backstage you fell into step with Jamie who was filming the boys. Their manager quickly wrapped you up in a side hug with a large grin and a happy “Glad you could make it!” Before turning his attention back to the band.

George was the first person to notice you, sending you a quick wink as you blew him a kiss with a beaming smile. Ross was the next person to spot you; his eyes softening as he took in your appearance before Matty was excitedly shouting you out.

“Fucking knew you’d make it darling! This one is for you!” He announced as the intro to M.O.N.E.Y started up to more roars of noise.

It might have been pure accidental that you ended up next to a rowdy group of teenage boys on that August weekend in 2007. But my god are you happy you did! Not because they were the biggest band in the world but because the five of you had seen every single one of your wins and your losses, they championed you on every new endeavour and had your back through thick and thin. You didn’t care about Matty writing songs about your blowjob skills because you were happily screaming the words back to him now. You cared that he was happy, that they all were and they knew they were fucking loved.

Which you finally realised you did. You fucking loved your best friend and as Ross turned to look at you whilst doing his little two step whilst Matty serenaded the crowd with I’m in Love with You, he really took in your appearance. Thigh high boots and his black hoodie he wore to Reading last night that covered you like a dress and the bastard golden R that was sitting over the top of the neck of the jumper, your hand pressed over the top as you made eye contact with him and beaming brightly at him, he felt his heart skip and triple in speed. He needed to tell you and he needed to tell you now.

So the second About You finished and he had said goodbye to the crowd. He was throwing his bass at Joel and was marching straight towards you, grabbing you by the jaw and smashing his mouth against your own. Melting into his touch you kissed the bassist back as the rest of friends joined you.

“I love you.” Ross breathed out in between kisses.

“Ohhh thank fuck because I really fucking love you too!” You told him; pulling him back to your lips as you gripped on to hair at the bottom of his bun tightly as your boys hollered around you.

#the 1975 imagine #the 1975 fic #matty healy imagine #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald #george daniel #george daniel fic #george daniel x reader #adam hann imagine #adam hann fic #adam hann x reader #adam hann #the 1975 x reader

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clubdionysus · 1 month

Text

[BAD DECISION #5] The Bet

warnings: alcohol, clubbing, jaykay is always behind the bar :(, jimin is up to no good, i luv the glitter girlies

soundtrack: playlist for this chapter

wc: 6.6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

It's ten o'clock in the evening before you finally commit to going out.

The idea had been floated as soon as you arrived home to varying responses ("Leave me alone to DIE. This hangover is too brutal. Don't ask me again. No." / "Again? Thought you'd never ask! What are we wearing?"), but over a mildly disappointing pasta dinner, and a couple of glasses of white wine, it had taken Hoseok's party playlist less than a minute to get you all saying "fuck it."

He was still complaining - and likely would be until you reached the club - but he was also holding up two different shirts to his bare torso asking for your advice. "Green or black?"

Both satin, they actually belonged to Danbi, but he hadn't wanted to go home, instead opting to just mooch about at your place after work. It was far closer to town than his - why he wasted rent on the expensive suburb of the city was beyond you - and had become his home away from home in recent months, especially following the breakup.

Realistically, you knew he rented in that area because his ex had liked the lake it was near, and that going home just reminded him of her - so you chose not to moan whenever he overstayed his welcome. It didn't happen often, but he was becoming more and more reliant on the pair of you to settle his stomach when he couldn't eat, thanks to his heartbreak seemingly consuming his own stomach.

The disappointing pasta had been his request. Spaghetti aglio e olio, except Danbi had been the one in charge as you were still on your way back from retrieving your phone, and had apparently used sesame oil instead of olive oil. Still, your tummies were full, and there were smiles on your faces. What more could you ask for?

"I'm wearing black tonight," you tell him. "We can twin."

"Okay, so I'm going with green," he quips back, throwing you a quick smile as he tosses the black shirt in your direction. You catch it, bundling it in your hands to hold it close. Danbi laughs. You curse him out.

"Asswipe."

"I'm kidding," he insists. "Gimmie back the black shirt back. We can twin!"

"No," you huff, though it's all in good jest. You hold it tighter, hugging it into your chest and lying back down in the heap of pillows on your bed. "Take your green shirt and fuck off, you little gremlin."

"Do you want me to come out tonight or not?" he haggles, knowing that he's about to get a death glare thanks to the threat he's teasing.

Your eyes narrow, and just like that, he's one glance away from the afterlife. Thinks death wouldn't be so bad as long as he has his best friends with him.

"Say sorry," you scowl.

"I'm sorry," he coos as walks to your bed and collapses ontop of you, squishing you in the process. His bare chest is over your face, his skin hot and clammy against yours - but no matter how much you scramble beneath him to try and push him off, he remains firmly stuck in place - and will do until you tap out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

You wriggle away from him - just enough to tell him to 'get the fuck off' if he wants the shirt back - and he rolls over you until his back is on your legs. The shirt meets his chest as you chuck it in his direction with a small laugh. "You're such a cock."

His arms hug the shirt into his chest, much like yours did a moment previously. He smiles. "You love it."

"I love it when you get off me so I can get ready."

"Oh give over, you've been sat on your arse for the past fifteen minutes doing nothing."

"And now I want to get ready, so just let me," you protest and begin to nudge your legs beneath him. He relents, getting to his feet as he threads his arms through the sleeves, while you pull a dress from your clothing rail.

It's much like his shirt - black satin and far too sexy for its own good. You've a point to prove. You are not a disco ball - but you still find yourself reaching for your glitter liner, because you actually feel a little bit lost without it these days.

See, your ex had always hated it. Hated glitter on his pillows, hated finding glitter on his shirts. Somehow, you'd always hoped he'd be endeared by it. Little reminders of you that would catch in the sunlight. Thought it'd have him thinking about you every time the sun shone just right.

Instead, he'd sigh whenever he saw you doing your makeup - especially on nights out.

You wear it like a suit of armour, now. He didn't want you? Fine. You didn't want his shitty opinions about your glitter-inclined makeup choices.

In a way, it feels like payback.

Realistically, it's not. You know it's not. He's none the wiser. Is probably happy to not be finding small holographic chunks on his blazers. Will most likely rule girls who wear glitter out of his dating pool. His loss. Glitter gals are always the most fun, you think, as you coat your eyes in a layer that is, admittedly, comparable to a disco ball.

Secretly, you don't think you'll mind if Jeongguk mentions it tonight. In fact, if you're being honest, you kind of hope he will.

You try not to dwell on the idea of him, not wanting to centre your night around the chance you might spot him at the bar, but as soon as you're in Dionysus, Hoseok insists on getting a drink.

"I need those Purple motherfuckers, or whatever the fuck they are, in my system ASAP."

"Starfuckers," you correct him with a giggle, clasping onto the back of his shirt as he weaves through the crowd. Danbi's fingers are interlaced with yours, palms clammy from the heat of the bar. It's full tonight - about double the crowd that was in the night before - and you try and pretend like you're not looking for Jeongguk when your elbows are finally perched up on the granite worktop.

It's not really granite. Cheap imitation. Like most things in this place - the faux leather furnishings, the bottom shelf vodka decanted into grey goose bottles, the people - it's fake.

One thing isn't though - and that's the smile on Jeongguk's face when he notices you.

You're not looking in his direction. Your friend - the guy from the night before, who Jeongguk now knows to be Jung Hoseok (thanks to his mild Instagram stalk) - is whispering something in your ear as you look at the alcohol behind the bar. The music is loud, and it's not unusual to have to converse like that, so he thinks nothing of it. Even he has to lean over the bar occasionally to be able to hear people's orders. Just part and parcel of a place like this.

There's sticky residue all over the bar, but you don't care, already a little tipsy and ignorant to how filthy it really is. Your arms are bare, the dress held up by thin straps that hook over your shoulders and criss-cross down your back, tying in a dainty little bow around the back of your waist.

"You get this round, I'll get the next," Hoseok practically shouts into your ear, his hand on your shoulder. You both know that neither of you will keep track. You never do. It's not like it matters - your friendship isn't transactional.

There are a few more people working behind the bar than last night. You don't spot him, but Jeongguk is up at the far end. That's his section; the area that gets the most traffic, so is by default where he is assigned. The rest of the staff are slightly younger - only by a year or so, but it means he has the most bar experience.

Your section - not that you're aware of these invisible parameters - is defined by the Jäger cooler and Coca-Cola fountain. Punters waiting to order between those two points fall into section two, which is manned tonight by Yeonjun. You recognise his hair, bright and blue, almost immediately.

He doesn't recognise you at first. Barely remembers you. He sees hundreds of people come through this god-forsaken place every night. It's not like you were anything special - just another girl in a pretty dress who'd had a few too many.

Yet when you put through your order for six Purple Starfuckers - two each - his lips lift. The way they curve would almost be sinister if it wasn't for the boyish charm he was exuding, so casually flippant in the way he raises his brows. He's a heartbreaker if you ever did see one.

"Oi, Gguk," he bellows over to the end of the bar. "This one's for you."

Jeongguk's eyes quickly glance down to Yeonjun at the sound of his name, barely audible above the sound of the music in the venue. The bass throbs through the atmosphere, and it makes it hard to pay attention to anything.

Yet when he skims over to see you at the other end of the bar, he can't seem to focus on anything else but you, regardless of the noise.

He holds his index finger up, points it to the sky and twirls it around, to indicate his desire to switch poisitons - of which Yeonjun happily obliges with. The position change won't be for long, but Yeonjun doesn't mind the faster pace of Jeongguk's section. If anyone is gonna take Jeongguk's rank after he finally gets a 'real' job, it's Yeonjun.

Patting Yeonjun's shoulder as he walks past, Jeongguk approaches you with a raised brow. You don't hear him, but you can read his lips as he says, "Maybe, eh?"

There are dimples hidden in his cheeks, only noticeable when the club lights hit him just right. Shadows form on his face - the ridges on his forehead and crease between his brows, too. There's an exuberance to a face so intricate with a smile so simple. It says 'Hi. Good to see you again. How have you been?' without even so much as uttering a single word.

"It's the Purple Starfuckers," you beam as you lean a little further over the bar to make sure he can hear you. "That's all I'm here for."

You're on your tippy toes, balancing on the bar with your elbows. Hoseok and Danbi are behind you, singing the words of an old Shinee song - 'noona neomu yeppeooooo' - at each other with far more aggression than is really needed. By the second chorus, they're replacing 'noona' with each other's names, and you know it's gonna be one of those nights.

One of the good ones.

Just a single song in, and the throwback theme isn't disappointing. Perhaps Jeongguk had been right to brag about it. Your hands are folded together, chin resting prettily on them, with as many stars in your eyes are there are pieces of glitter on your eyelids.

"Still look like a disco ball," he tells you, and asks for your order before you have a chance to oppose - only for him to be the one protesting in the end. "SIX?!"

"Six," you say with a smile so cheeky he almost gets flustered. Almost. You don't notice, too busy tipsy-giggling at his shock.

"You'll run the bar dry."

"That's a 'you' problem."

"Will be a 'you' problem when I'm out of amaretto," he tells you, as if he doesn't know there's a case full of it in the barrel room. It's more fun this way. More fun when he can flirt - of which he'd argue he isn't doing. He's just keeping relations with the patrons sweet. Ensures repeat visits. You're case in point.

"I'll just run to the shop and get you some more," you assure him, your teeth cushioned on your bottom lip as you watch him pour the shots with ease.

Purple Starfuckers were the first semi-complex shot he'd mastered, simply because he enjoyed the name - didn't care so much for how sweet they were. You seem to like them though, so maybe he should try them again someday. See if his tastes have changed.

He won't bore you with the fact that Amaretto is an import that's pretty hard to come by in the city, and that he has to have it shipped in specifically - and even then, he's only permitted to buy limited quantities of it. Shit's like gold dust around these parts.

The fact he was giving you it on the house last night? Yeah. He doesn't do that for just anyone. Doesn't know why he did it for you. Didn't really think about it, just like he didn't really think about letting Jimin know you'd left your phone at their place in the early hours of the morning.

You make Jeon Jeongguk - chronic overthinker, mild worrier, intense daydreamer - stop thinking, and that - if he were to be thinking, would say - is very dangerous.

And so he charges you this time. There's no resistance from you, even if they are a little more expensive than you had first realised. If anything, you feel bad for how many you got on the house the night before.

Your body twists as you call your friends to attention, and Jeongguk pretends to not look you up and down.

From his end of the bar, Yeonjun glances over at just the right time and doesn't hold back a small laugh. He'll tease Jeongguk about it later - "She went home with them again, man. Sorry but she's got the best of both worlds. You're shit out of luck." - and continue naively believing that Jeongguk was telling the truth when he said that Hoseok had gone home with both girls last night.

Ten thousand won had been slid across the bar to Yeonjun as he was setting up earlier that evening, green and weathered, creased from Jeongguk's front pocket. Not a word was heard from him as he walked on by, Yeonjun too smug with his win to bother asking questions about the end of the night before.

He was none the wiser that you'd finished your night in Jeongguk's apartment - even if it wasn't with Jeongguk, and even if you didn't actually finish at all.

The club is full capacity by the time two AM hits.

Jeongguk is working flat out, punters left and right after more drinks, all wanting to be served first so they can get back to the dancefloor - which is exactly where you are. Hoseok and Danbi have both been to the bar within the last hour, but not you. They order your drinks for you, never from Jeongguk - they always seem to end up at Yeonjun's section - and carry them back into the crowd.

He's no idea where you are; who you're with. Figures maybe Jimin's already found you tonight. Spends a fair while running through scenarios in his head. Pours vodka cokes while he's thinking about what he'll say if you fell over the sitting room sidetable again tonight. He made sure to leave the lamp on before he left, and knows damn well Jimin won't have turned it off. At least if you do end up back at their place, you won't make the same mistake.

His favourite scenario - the one he keeps going back to - is one where you're at the club till the end of the night. You grab food on your way home - but because it's the end of the night, only one place is open and queues take a little while. By the time he's closed up the club and is on his way home, you'll be in your taxi, too.

Jimin will show you in, but Jeongguk'll already be there. He'll be in the kitchen - hasn't decided yet if he'll be nursing a drink of his own or just making food. In some renditions of the scenario he is, some he isn't. And then you'll get to talking, and Jimin will get impatient. Then, Jimin will do as Jimin does when he's one too many - fall asleep.

He's not really sure why he doesn't want you to fuck Jimin again. He doesn't know you. By that metric, he can't possibly know how well suited you and Jimin may be.

That's exactly the issue, though. Jeongguk doesn't want you. It's the scenarios in his head that he wants; the what ifs. At present, you're a perception. You've potential to be absolutely anything.

You're not the first person he's been like this about. Admittedly, you're the first he's found in his apartment at just gone five in the morning stumbling form Jimin's room, but that's neither here nor there.

"Get a grip," he berates himself beneath his breath as he hooks a plastic Jägerbomb tumbler below the dispenser. The dark liquor fills the centre as he reaches over for the half-used can of red bull, pouring it in without much thought, crumpling the can as it reaches the dregs. He tosses the warped can into the 'discards' tray behind the bar, ready to take out on the next recycling run.

The way Jeongguk serves drinks comes so naturally to him that he almost thinks that this is 'it' for him; that he'll be stuck behind the bar of Dionysus until he's grey. Hopes that isn't the case - but he hopes for a lot. Is never really proactive in turning dreams into realities.

When you finally make your way to the bar a little while later, Jeongguk hasn't thought about you for at least fifteen minutes. A new record - and you're there just in time to ruin it.

There's a sheen to your cheeks, and he notices that you've just as much shimmer there as you have glitter on your eyes. Always sparkling. Always shining. Begging for attention - and those who ask shall recieve.

"Disco Ball," he teases. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He's ignorant to the fact there's other people waiting to be served. He'll get to them eventually.

Narrowing your eyes, you can feel the tightness of the dried glitter on your eyelids, but you pretend as if it's nothing. "I'm not a disco ball."

"Sure you're not," he smirks." What can I get you?"

You intake a sharp breath, debating your choices. Hoseok's on malibu and lemonade, Danbi's on anything she can get her hands on - so you order three of Hoseok's choice.

There's no chatter as he makes your drinks. The club is too loud. There's too many distractions. He's fast as he works, limiting your interaction time - but it's not like he actively wants to prolong it. The longer you actually spend in one another's company, the less of an illusion you become.

Your chin is resting ontop of your hands again, eyes a little bleary from the drinks and god-awful smoke machine, your card suspended between two fingers. He slides the drinks across the counter and pinches the card from you with a small smile, eyes almost as warm as yours. You've an excuse though. You're drunk.

He's just delusional. Has this idea of you. Of what you could be. But it makes him feel all warm, too.

It's funny, cause if you knew this, you'd steer clear. The idea of anyone having expectations of you makes you want to run for the hills. The last man who'd had expectations of you was thoroughly disappointed.

He rings up your total - only charges you for the liquor, doesn't add the lemonade to the bill - and processes your payment.

"You alright with all those?" He asks as he goes to hand back your card, nodding towards the drinks. Your hands are already full, holding the three cups in a triangle formation, fingers outstretched as far as they can possibly go. You nod, but realise there's nowhere for your card - so part you lips and put your head forward a little.

"Card," you say, showing your teeth. He rolls his eyes with a grin and he puts it between them, knowing that it's probably not the most orthodox way to deal with a punter, but who fucking cares? No harm, no foul.

With that, you're back off to the dancefloor. A good amount of your drinks are spilt on the way, your legs a little damp from one particularly bad splash, but nothing you haven't experienced before. Clubs like these are always a little sordid - a little sticky. Sweaty. Sinful.

And as Park Jimin catches your eye in the crowd, you're proven right once more.

They say that hips don't lie, and while this tends to be true, it's not always the case.

Jimin has great hips. Can move them expertly on the dancefloor and beside the desk in his bedroom, or so you've found out - but he also left you a little high and dry, so you're compelled to reciprocate such treatment.

Bodies are crammed together on the dancefloor, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. There's no room to breathe, let alone actually have a conversation of any substance, so Jimin comes in close, and you don't mind. His breath is hot against your ear as he asks, "back again?"

You laugh in such a way that you only do when you're drunk - if sober you ever witnessed it, she'd cringe so hard she'd break a couple vertebrae. One of your wrists anchors itself on his shoulder, his hand coming to your waist to keep you close.

"Couldn't stay away," you flirt, and it's true, even if it's not for the reasons he'll choose to believe.

"You want a drink?" he asks, because that seems to be the only way men know how get a girl to talk to them in places like these. You hold up your malibu and lemonde, which is half empty already and shrug. He gently takes it from you, and swallows it down. Gone within a second. He smiles. Looks incredibly pleased with himself. You're looking at him with a wide jaw, brows furrowed together in surprise. "So, drink?"

And you laugh-nothing else you can do but accept.

"Yeah," you smile, lips against his ear, gloss tickling his lobe. "Drink."

He holds your hand through the crowd, not for any deeper reason than to make sure he doesn't lose you, and heads in Jeongguk's direction - because of course he does. Why would he go elsewhere?

Jeongguk avoids Jimin's curious eyes when the first thing he does is slide a plastic cup of water in your direction.

"She needs it," Jeongguk simply says. He can sense that Jimin is about to question him, so he doesn't let it happen. "Been serving her all night. Trust me. She needs it."

"You don't know what I need," you argue, as if your fingers aren't curling around the ice cold cup of water, head leaning over the counter to sip from it instead of actually bringing to your lips. "I'm fine."

Jeongguk folds his arms and raises his brows, head tilting slightly. His eyes are on Jimin. Told you so.

He just rolls his eyes. Asks what you're drinking. Tells Jeongguk to make two more.

Behind the bar, Jeongguk takes a second to unfold his arms, before he does as he's told. He's served people in far worse states than you. He also knows that Jimin is just as fucked as you. There's no imbalance of power or advantage to be taken, so he simply makes a second water for Jimin, before starting on the actual drinks.

"I'm honestly fine," you insist again when Jeongguk slides the new drink your way without his signature smile.

He looks at Jimin a little sternly, then looks at you. His expression softens, but you're both too drunk to really notice. "Yeah, sure you are. Bet you're gonna be at the gym bright and early tomorrow, aren't you?"

Your smile broadens, a laugh stuttering in your diaphragm. "You don't wanna make bets with me, Jeon. I always win."

It's at this point Jimin gets a little confused. He doesn't even think you remember his name, so has no idea how the fuck you know Jeongguk's family name of all things.

Even Jeongguk is a little surprised. "Jeon? Someone's been stalking my Instagram."

If you weren't absolutely fucked, you'd be embarrassed - but you are fucked, so instead, you give him a taste of his own medicine. "Says the guy who managed to track me down via my best friend's Instagram? And I'm the stalker?"

"I run the club's Instagram," he shrugs, smiling as he talks, a little smug. "You know how many stories Hoseok tagged us in?!"

You don't. Jeongguk doesn't give you a chance to answer, either way.

"38. Thirty-fucking-eight in one night," he says in such a way that you can't help but laugh.

It's so Hoseok that it hurts. You just know that he'll have watched them all in the morning with a groan and look of disgust on his face, checking who watched them, and deleting them all one by one out of sheer embarrassment. They'd already been wiped by the time you got your phone back.

Something that hadn't been wiped, though?

Jeongguk's follow request for your Instagram. You still haven't accepted it, much to his own embarrassment, but now he knows you've looked through his feed, he finds a little pleasure in it.

Jimin doesn't know what the fuck is going on and so Jeongguk explains - "we go to the same gym" - as if it makes a single difference, or as if that's even strictly true. He doesn't understand how that led to a weird battle of who's the biggest Instagram stalker, but he doesn't question it either. Might ask about it later in the night, but will likely forget.

You offer to pay, but Jimin says it's cool, he's got it - but he doesn't get out his card. Jeongguk rings it up on the till, prints the receipt and staples it to a wad of paper by the back wall.

"You get a tab?!"

"Perks of living with the bar manager," Jimin smirks, which has you glancing over to Jeongguk once more with narrow eyes. You're about to be offended, but he doesn't let you be.

"Don't pretend like you've never had anything on the house," he challenges.

What you're unaware of is the fact that you haven't paid full price with Jeongguk, well, ever. Even the Purple Starfuckers earlier were put through with a staff discount. Only 10%, but enough to get him in trouble with the bar owner if they ever found out - which they won't. As long as the bar turns a profit, they don't care to check the books.

"Touché."

Jeongguk shoos you both away - "I have a job to do, yanno." - so he can deal with more punters.

It won't be the last time you're at the bar that evening. You both know it.

Despite Jimin's best efforts, you shake him off after a song or two. You're not interested in hooking up tonight, and Danbi and Hoseok look like they're having far more fun letting loose to an old-school Galantis song than you are, pretending as if it could go anywhere with Jimin.

As much as you'd love to him give him a chance to rectify last night's faux pas, you're also highly aware of a smug Jeongguk saying 'it's never a one-time thing.' You don't want to prove him right.

And so you dance the night away with your best friends instead, without a care in the world.

You're actually trying to pace yourself now. Could feel yourself getting a little too drunk. You've a glass of water in one hand, Danbi's hand in the other. The lights flash above you, reds and greens, in time with whatever club classic is playing, and you vaguely remember Jeongguk promise of being able to make whatever request you like for the music.

You pull Danbi a little closer, practically shout in her ear that you're going to the bathroom and plant a kiss on the side of her head before you depart. You don't need her to go with you - nowhere feels safer to you than the girl's toilets on a night out.

There's a sense of solidarity to be found in there; the pitter patter of heels on damp floors, while other girls fix the zips on strangers' dresses. They wipe away the tears of the poor girlies who had to watch the boys they fancy leave with someone else, and occasionally shout 'wait, wait! toilet paper!' when someone is about to go back into the club with loo roll on their sole. It's heaven in the most hellish of places.

No wonder the ladies' bathroom attracts only angels; but angels can fall. Even the Devil was an angel, once.

You spot her as you're wiping a knuckle beneath your eye in the mirror, clearing your smudged mascara. She's dressed to the nines in a bodycon dress that hugs her in all the right places. You've always hated the style, but she manages to make it look good.

"Oh shit," you blurt out, drunk tongue voicing your thoughts before you have the chance to process them. There's a smile on your face, and a little dizziness in your eyes as you lean against the counter. "Jiyeong, right? From the gym?"

When she turns to look at you, there's surprise on her pretty features. A little confusion. Certainly not happiness, but not disgust, either. She manages to feign friendliness, though, a smile shining through the cloudiness in her eyes. "Oh hey! You're from earlier, right?"

"Right, right," you nod, horrified at the idea you've been classed as the 'girl from the gym' not once but twice tonight. Not the legacy you want, nor the legacy you expect you will carry with you, but one that, for now, seems to be sticking.

"Oh right," she smiles again, a little awkwardly, clearly not wanting to engage.

She's been on vodka and slimline tonic all night, and the lack of sugar has made the alcohol stew in her system in a less than pleasant manner. Or maybe she's just always like this. She's about to leave when she notices your phone screen flash on the counter out of the corner of her eye. There's no subtlety in the way she reads the notification, and even less in the way she addresses it.

"Careful. He's bad news."

You follow her eyes to your screen.

JustJK: Half an hour until final orders, btw.

JustJK: Also means only an hour left to make requests.

JustJK: If I'm not at the bar, tell the dude with blue hair what you want, say I said it's okay.

JustJK: Actually no scrap that, just message me your requests.

It's a friendly warning, granted, but part of you feels as if she's not really warning you about him. More like she's warning you off him.

"Bad news?" you hum, almost as if you believe her - but then you smile and turn to leave. "Just my type."

You're not actively interested in him, but the way she spoke to you at the gym, the way she's trying to get under your skin pisses you off. She's a grown adult. If she wants Jeongguk, she can use her big girl words and tell you herself. You don't know her. You don't owe her jack shit. And so you tell her to 'have a goodnight', and head straight for the bar.

"Disco Ball," he greets you with that shit-eating smile of his. Maybe he is bad news. A bad decision - but you've got a habit of making those. Why stop now?

"Starfucker," you reply, to which he finds himself running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. A smile forms on his pretty lips. A smile forms on yours, too. It's all very vomit-inducing. Sickly sweet. Nauseating - but you're drunk, so you don't care. "You mentioned requests? I have a request."

It's less of a request, more of a solution to your desperate need for a sing-along with your besties, as if the entire night hasn't been that.

"Go for it."

"Love Story."

"Taylor Swift?"

"Uh-huh - but it has to be Taylor's version. If you don't play Taylor's version, I... Well, I don't know what I'll do... But, like, it won't be good."

The bar is a hell of a lot quieter now - only a couple hundred people compared to the easy thousand that had been there during the rush. He takes his time to assess your threat, and nods as if he believes you'll deliver on it.

"Taylor's Version..." he hums, before leaning on the bar to match your energy. "Alright. I'll make you a deal."

"I'm listening."

"I'll play Taylors version but... the bet we made about the gym earlier," he says as if you remember fuck all about earlier conversations. The bet had never really been struck - but you don't entirely remember that. "I'll play Taylor's version as a preemptive reward for you winning the bet."

"So...?" You question. He'd never said that requests came with conditions - but you're intrigued by his need to challenge you.

"So, it means you have to win. There's no choice in the matter. You have to go to the gym tomorrow, nice and early, and prove me wrong."

Your eyes narrow like they so often do in his presence - unimpressed but also a little enthused. There's something about him that you enjoy. Something about him you'd like to keep enjoying.

But you're an argumentative little shit when you want to be.

"I don't know you, but I hate you."

He'd take offence, but you're too alike. He'd likely say something similar in your position. Can't be mad. So instead he just smiles, club lights catching on his dainty silver lip ring as he does so.

"Just you wait until you do know me. Then you'll really hate me."

"Wanna make a bet on that too?"

"I can't refuse a good bet."

"Gambling will get you in trouble," you remind him. He works in the nightlife entertainment industry. He probably knows where to find all the illegal gambling places in the city. Wouldn't be surprised if there was one beneath the bar you're in right now.

"I'm a gambling man," he says and it's not technically a lie - he just doesn't gamble in a way that would get him in any trouble with the law. He doesn't clarify, though. Just lets you draw your own conclusions.

And he probably shouldn't have, because you just conclude that he's stupid.

"You're a fool."

"You're so mean, Disco Ball," he pouts, holding his hand to his heart as if your words actually carry any weight.

"You'd hate it if I wasn't, Starfucker," you beam as you back away from the bar, holding his gaze. "Don't fuck the request up! Taylor's version!"

"I never do!" He shouts after you as you walk away, lost to the club once more.

Part of him knows you'll be back within the next five minutes, Hoseok and Danbi in toe, with an endless slew of requests from your trio. You'll waste so much time thinking of what to ask for that you'll miss them all being played.

It takes just a millisecond for Hoseok to know exactly what's playing.

Danbi realises as soon as Hoseok takes his Taylor Swift stance - one that she does on stage, of which he's adapted into his own lipsyncing repertoire.

"Shut up," she shouts, elongating her words with a squeal, not actually wanting anyone to shut up. She's just happy.

Their faces - yours included - light up like the fourth of July, brandishing everyone within a metre radius of your trio in the most infectious shades of gold. You're enigmatic; the life, the soul, the party.

There's a smile on Danbi's drunken face as you take her hands and begin to dance with her - not that Hoseok lets you enjoy it without him. He inserts himself, like he always does, and the three are you are lost to your own world on the dancefloor.

It's moments like these that make the next day's hangover worth it. Hoseok hasn't thought about his ex all evening, and that's honestly all that you and Danbi had wanted. You needed him to know that life goes on without his ex; and that it can actually be pretty damn good.

No matter how many drinks have been spilt on your shoes and covered your toes, nor drunken cigarettes have been smoked out in the designated area (despite telling yourself you don't actually smoke), nothing can dampen a mood like this.

The DJ mixes the music into a Macklemore song you haven't heard since you were twenty, and it's as if you haven't aged a day. It may have only been a few years, but time has weathered you. Your ex - older, more mature - had aged you. Finally, it was feeling like you were back in your reckless youth.

Flirting with cute boys, hooking up with strangers, spending all your time in a state of not quite sober with your best friends... yeah. You're back.

And it's for that reason why, when Jimin approaches you towards the end of the night, you simply smile and say 'not tonight'. It's not about proving a point anymore, but more so because you don't want find to comfort in anyone - let alone a fuck boy from a bar. They're fine for one night, but once you make a habit, it's so much easier to form an addiction.

He respectfully taps out, tells you to have a good night, and seeks out someone - anyone - who is looking for a mildly disappointing shag.

By the time the bar closes, the three of you trundle home together, walking to the taxi rank with shoes off, makeup smudged, covered in glitter. You've crashed, but there's something beautiful about the wreckage.

And yet come seven minutes past eleven the next morning, there's something incredibly dreadful about the Instagram notification that pings through to your phone.

JustJK: loser.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

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criminalskies · 10 months

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BLOG NAVIGATION

^ name banner by the very talented @egdropsoop <3^

hi honey, welcome to my blog! I hope you enjoy your time here :D. I post a LOT about criminal minds and about my life, other fandoms include bobs burgers, house MD, 911, Oceans Eleven, Studio Ghibli (I also just love the art pls), X-men, and more!!

So, my name is Rome. I’m 21 and non-binary, I go by they/them pronouns <3!

🌱💌 This is a safe space. Homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, hate speech of any kind are not tolerated here. Everyone is welcome just as they are. Please respect that. 💌 🌱

Please note this post contains some NSFW content, minors DNI.

Request Guidelines: I know I have written some fem!reader in the past, but generally please avoid requesting pregnancy/period/non gender neutral subjects from me. I know it's a weird line for me to draw, but I could suggest probably ten writers who could do a 10x better job writing these topics. I prefer writing Gender Neutral, so I like to keep things this way wherever possible.

I currently also have quite the pile of requests, so while my requests are open, please note it may take me quite some time to get to yours. (I work oldest > newest with the occasional non-requested fic here and there)

Without further ado, please enjoy my works! :D

Fics:

Safety Net: You spend the night reflecting on a beautiful love you shared with Aaron Hotchner, more accurately, you spend the night reflecting on the last two months of heartache without him. It will take one unexpected visitor to bring the two of you to face the reality you’ve found yourselves in.

Looking Out For You: Hotch seems to be babying you on the chase for an unsub, but you quickly realise, he knows what he's doing. also hotch looks hot driving.

In Your Orbit:

part one. Hotch doesn’t understand why the newest member of the team is so dedicated to spending all their time with him. He finally asks and he’s overjoyed with the answer.

part two. Normal Criminal Minds Case type content, hostage situation, use of guns, an accident involving a knife, Unsub talks about suicide and thoughts of self-harm, please DNI if this is at all triggering for you!!!! ⚠️⚠️

Drunk! Aaron - aaron gets wild on a team bonding night and tries very hard not to let reader undress him because he's taken... by reader. (very drunk hotch being a cutiepie)

Sweet Creature: Aaron has never known exactly where his 'home' was, until he met you.

Walk Me Home: Inspired by the p!nk song, Aaron is having a hard time processing the last case, reader is there to comfort him.

Reprieve: Hotch x Autistic!Reader. Reader is having a very hard day at the BAU and Aaron is able to help.

Sleepless In Seattle: part one. part two. part three.

To Catch A Profiler - A Parent Trap Story. - This is a part one of an incomplete series based on the Parent Trap movies. This sets the scene for when your little girls find one another later in life <3

A Bookstore type of Love. - This was an anon request for brother!spencer reid and boyfriend!aaron to take reader to the bookstore and geek out on new book smell, harry potter and the high school musical/john denver soundtrack on the way. Hotch thinks about how desperately he wants to marry reader.

When the spark lit the fuse - Hotch has been in love before, but he's never been so in sync with someone, bodies moving in harmony like his does with your own. Looking back on how your relationship began, Hotch reminisces on how he himself has changed for the better. because of you.

Meet my big, crazy family: Your boyfriend finally meets your big, loud, crazy family. Inspired by my big fat greek wedding movies <3

This Isn't Me: Hotch comforts reader through their period as they go through some serious dysphoria, having not come out as nonbinary yet </3.

Thoughts/Blurbs:

Across the Multiverse: Haley shows hotch all the universes in which he is happy, and he just so happens to be with you in every one of them.

Fratboy!Hotch: In high school, rumours and dishonesty pushed you and your childhood-best-friend-turned-love of-your-life Aaron hotchner apart. Now, the two of you have showed up at the same college party. Can he make it up to you?

WW2 Hotch:

I will add many many more to these lists as I progress, writing more in the future <3

#welcome my babies #criminalskies masterlist #criminalskies blog navigation #navigation #masterlist

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7grandmel · 15 days

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Todays rip: 17/05/2024

Athletic Doctor

Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 1 Also on: SiIvaGunner: Starter Kit & Essentials

Ripped by Psynwav

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ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL!!

I haven't slept in so long...I forgot what dreams were like.

Honestly - what better way could there be for me to celebrate the 365th main post on the blog, than to be fashionably late by a whole weekend? It's unfortunate, but...oddly befitting, really. Back when I was first starting out with the blog, I actually forgot about posting daily for a solid two weeks - and so, some old-ass posts like Chillin’ Like A Villain and (YTPMV) Bob-Omb Battlesources were made in quite a hurry retroactively. Nevertheless, it was on May 17th 2023, over on my main blog @melblur, that I suddenly decided that I wanted to write about one SiIvaGunner rip a day just for fun. After File Select Fusion Collab, I realized that it made more sense just to put these on their own blog, and with Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World I moved everything onto here. It's all been a bit of a bumpy ride, is my point. But today, I've reached the big milestone that I was originally aiming for all the way back with Running Through Cookie Country - a year's worth of almost-always-daily posts on the weird and wonderful world of SiIvaGunner. And what better rip to discuss alongside this milestone than the channel's biggest hit, the milestone rip to stand above all others: Season 1's Athletic Doctor.

Now, I've been following SiIvaGunner since some of the earliest moments of Season 1, following along with the initial GiIvaSunner termination, the entire Reboot saga discussed in I Saw a Brainwasher Today, the Mashup Crusaders arc of Mr. Rental [B Side] ~ Out of Options, the channel ending of Epic Flintstones... Basically, I was there for just about the entire initial 9-month run, and have with but one Season's worth of an exception (Season 5) been following the channel damn near obsessively since. The point is that, through this, I have been able to follow the channel's most popular videos chart up and down with each passing month: I recall, for instance, how Nintendo GameCube Startup - Console/BIOS Music soared past all other rips back in the day and stayed on top for five month's time. That was, of course, before finally being surpassed by we are number one but with outdated memes over it and subsequently helping kickstart the entire We Are Number One meme trend (funny enough - you can actually find a youtube comment left by me on the rip in late December 2016/early 2017 expressing mild annoyance over the rip's popularity...). Athletic Doctor in comparison was of course always popular, but it took a while to truly climb its way up there - it was in the top ten, then top five, always rising, bubbling in the background. Eventually, starting with Season 3's premiere, the team decided to just make the rip the trailer for the channel for new viewers - where it still sits today, now as the far-and-away most popular rip on the channel.

I feel like the reason the rip became used as the defacto channel trailer, the reason it keeps being referenced in videos demonstrating what SiIvaGunner is all about, is pretty obvious. I've talked a lot in posts like Live and Ooooooooooooooh about how outright *effective* many of Season 1's rips were, and Athletic Doctor is the most prime example of that imaginable - it is a damn near pitch perfect joke executed shockingly well for the time of its upload in the channel's history. EVERYONE knows the music to Super Mario World, either through its usage in the game itself in the 90s, its appearances in games like Super Smash Bros. Melee in the 2000s and Super Mario Galaxy 2 in the 2010s - or just through sheer overexposure to it in just about any era of gaming YouTube. The game's soundtrack is the perfect blend of being immediately recognizable and incredibly easy to hum along to given the entire game basically only has three or so melodies, relying on its central leitmotif to a degree bordering on parody. Likewise as well, EVERYBODY knows Witch Doctor, either through excessive radio play, being a big hit with Alvin & the Chipmunks...or the 2007 Live Action Alvin & the Chipmunks movie that I myself grew up with, it's the kind of vaguely obnoxious (also arguably quite racist) nonsense novelty music that's incredibly appealing to young kids, the same way something like Crazy Frog or its ilk was in the 2000s as well.

Put simply, Athletic Doctor was a match made in heaven - and the joke is pulled off so expertly that it feels redundant to put into words. The Athletic Theme intro is iconic enough to where you're led into a false sense of security right off the bat, the melody swap is subtle enough as to not immediately be noticeable, making the moment you notice it even more noteworthy - only for the track's second loop to become a full-on mashup with the Witch Doctor track. Absolutely perfect escalation, just the right amount of buildup - but most importantly, it ends up actually sounding really good! The joke's great to be sure, very much like Live and Ooooooooooooooh - but I feel like the core reason why Athletic Doctor has continued to endure for so long on the channel, why it keeps getting remixed and referenced and paid tribute to on so many instances, is because it's just a genuinely good listen once the joke sets in. In other words, it is the purest distillation of SiIvaGunner's appeal - a joke so simple, yet pulled off with a magical appeal that remains even all these years later.

Through running this blog, it's that very specific appeal that I've wanted to try and encapsulate with the rips I cover, with what I write about them, to uncover that elusive magic of this dumb shitpost channel. Joel's big Grand Dad reaction that kicked the channel off is a good bit, to be sure, but its not a bit that could've lasted eight years and counting: In its earliest days, its easy to see how the channel could've just become naught but a novelty and fallen off the face off the earth once interest in it died. Yet through each year of the channel's life, with every Season that passes, it's evolved and adapted. Be it the spontaneous chaos of Season 1, the building storyline of Season 2, the mystery and nostalgia of Season 3, the sheer talent on display in the King for Another Day Tournament in Season 4 Episode 1 and the sheer joy of celebration found in Season 4 Episode 2, the whimsical experimentation of Season 5, the sudden introspection and moodiness of Season 6, the pure adoration and love for everything the channel stands for in Season 7, and the ongoing pure silliness of Season 8 - each period of this channel feels as if it's growing in a new direction, never content sitting in one place for too long - and yet the appeal of a rip like Athletic Doctor remains oh so core to the entire SiIvaGunner experience. The experience of which I've made my best effort to cover across all 365 posts on this blog. To show everyone the layers in which this channel goes in.

That's what I've been wanting to show you... but now, before I end this post, I want to briefly talk about what you've shown *me*. I know its a cliché thing to say, but really - it warms my heart EVERY time I receive messages about the blog. This all began as just a way for me to practice my writing ability, but suddenly I was having the actual rippers - the names that I'd admire from my MP3 player but hardly ever considered able to actually interact with - messaging me in private to express how happy my posts made them...not to mention the people in SiIvaCord discussing rips with me, digging into my writing, sharing anecdotes I'd never heard of, and everyone who requested rips genuinely eager to see what I had to write about them...like, again, its the biggest cliché on the planet, and I know this blog really isn't all *that* big in the grand scheme of things - but I never expected to even get more than five people actually engaging with what I post? To everyone, and ESPECIALLY to the silent majority reading my posts without a Tumblr account, the ones engaging from a distance - thank you SO much for validating all that I've done on here.

Now, there's still plenty of posts I have left in me, plenty of ones already in the drafts and unfulfilled requests well in the dozens. But like...tons has happened since when this all started 12 months ago. I got a summer job! I'm wrapping up what's hopefully my final three school courses! I've started listening to so much new music, expanding my music tastes, in huge part thanks to all the digging this blog has made me do! And, of course, getting to be this open about what's likely my absolute weirdest special interest has honestly made me feel more confident in myself as a person, made me a more outgoing individual in general. And so, to get all of my ducks in a row, to help straighten things out for a bit...I'm going to take a break from regular posting on here. I'm aiming for it to be no longer than a month's time - again, I have much I still wish to write about!! - but you'll of course still see me reblogging fanart and other such things on here just from using Tumblr casually. And hey - if you haven't already, I recommend you take the time to go scavenging through The Archive for daily posts that you might have missed! Having a blog with so much writing on it, so many posts, so much to discover for readers old and new...In a way, I've basically made it so that navigating the blog feels just like navigating the vast seas of the SiIvaGunner channel itself. And isn't that just the most fitting way to leave it all on - an ocean of posts, waiting for you to uncover them?

THAT SIIVAGUNNER TUMBLR BLOG WILL RETURN IN SEASON 2

#todays siivagunner #season 1 #siivagunner #siiva #Psynwav #tumblr blog #high quality rips #super mario world #witch doctor

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avelera · 2 months

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I don’t know how to recommend Wolf Hall

The first time I watched it I sort of didn’t get the hype. It was quiet, and slow burn, and by the time things began happening earnest I thought wow, the tension in the scenes around Anne Boleyn’s fate is so off the charts, I can see why this series was well regarded…

Then the show ended. I didn’t even realize that it was the last episode.

I thought it was well made. I’d enjoyed it. It was fine.

Then I watched it again.

I’m not even sure why I watched it again. Maybe it was the soundtrack, which I couldn’t get out of my head. Maybe it was because I sensed I’d missed some things because the pace was slow so I wanted to rewatch with a better understanding of what was happening now that I had the full picture.

I finished it.

Then… I really wanted to watch it again.

I can’t even explain why. Perhaps the slow, methodical pace and the generally quiet atmosphere makes it a good background show. Maybe just because it’s so different from everything else, so much less frenetic while still being riveting. Maybe it’s the maturity of the work. Maybe it’s the soundtrack which I still can’t stop listening to even though it’s probably ten minutes total when looped straight. (It’s a banger of a soundtrack I will say.)

I’m not sure how to recommend it. It didn’t grab me by the throat in the traditional sense, but months later I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ll probably put it on again after writing this. It’s somber and mature and beautifully performed. It’s very good and very different from more sensational period films. The tension isn’t based in surprise, we all know what’s going to happen to characters like Henry VIII or Anne Boleyn or even Thomas Cromwell, if you’re familiar with that era of history.

I will say it’s the most unexpected show that I can’t stop thinking about and if nothing else, I can recommend it on those merits.

#wolf hall

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saneabandoned · 17 days

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Diving into Star Wars: The Clone Wars

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

This seems to encapsulate the whole seven seasons of the series Star Wars: The Clone Wars. If you haven’t seen it, haven’t heard of it – in short, it’s an animated series set between Episode II and III of the prequel saga. However, the aim of this is not to be a guide – you can go to Wookiepedia for that; this is supposed to be an essay – analysis, some kind of a deeper-ish dive into the philosophy and meaning of the series, that frankly is one of the best things to happen to this film universe, perhaps ever. I have, time and again, tried to explain for myself the meaning it carries and just why it has me in such a strong chokehold, but I have failed, or at least haven’t reached a conclusion. Maybe it’s not possible, maybe it’s just the magic of being a fan – you see and feel things not everyone would understand, because it speaks to you on some personal level, that even some (more chill than me, at least) fans won’t be able to entirely relate to. I have yet to meet a person as obsessive as I am over all kinds of different media – don’t get me wrong, even though Star Wars is without a doubt my favourite universe, there are many more I have indulged in, wrote about, watched, listened, theorized and all that good stuff throughout many years. But as I have recently come to realize, I have spent the last ten-ish years of my (not that long, to be fair) conscious life thinking about this universe, this whole galaxy (pun absolutely intended) of characters, morals, and plots.

Speaking about morals, that’s where some of the importance of The Clone Wars comes for me personally. Ever since I can remember, Star Wars has been a huge deal in my life – I watched the movies at a very young age (thanks, mom!), but started reading more and more into the whole world as I got older. I thought I’d reached the peak somewhere in high school when I would literally rewatch the prequels every single weekend, and the OG movies about once a month too. I just found it mesmerising, I always have – being a person with a huge imagination, that never quite stops working (and that’s caused me some trouble as well), I found a haven in this world, a place where nothing is too weird, everything is just so brilliantly imagined and thought of, written and painted so vividly, that it feels like someone has taken the insides of my brain, turned them into a whole painting, adding stories, characters and just overall putting into words and pictures the things that I can’t really understand and explain for myself. I found a mirror in this world, a sanctuary for all my thoughts. I used to listen to the soundtracks whenever I felt anxious, and it would transport me directly into the universe I felt so safe in. It was an escape from reality; still is – not that reality was or is particularly scary or unbearable for me; but sometimes I wish I was elsewhere; somewhere where there is courage, bravery, adventure, love, all the things I longed for while being quite honestly, mostly a bored teenager at school.

I have always loved writing, loved expressing my thoughts, putting them into words (as is becoming obvious by this text) and have always greatly appreciated when films, books or other media would reciprocate that – when the words on the screen or the page would feel like I wrote them myself, so true, so real, so incredibly close to me, that I would get literal shivers and wonder if telepathy is actually possible. But hey, that’s The Force for you!

As of now, I have just finished completely rewatching the whole Clone Wars series and as always, I have many thoughts on it. The first time I watched it was right after the final season came out because at that time, and especially during the pandemic, I was going deeper than ever into my interests, rewatching all my favourite things, while also searching for new ones to keep me from going absolutely insane (I think I maybe have succeeded in the opposite though). So, stumbling across this series, I thought I’d give it a try. The rest is history – after absolutely and hungrily devouring it, I continued to Rebels, and every other possible piece of media under the sun. Fabulous times.

Now, one thing I’d like to make clear – I’m not a pro. I am not in any way a certified critic, a writer, or any other sort of person authorised to make such an analysis. I am but a fan, a fan for whom this universe means more than I could ever hope to be able to put into words; a fan who after years of contemplation, has reached a point where I can’t keep it inside any longer. I’d love if this piece of writing makes it out in the universe, reaches as many people who enjoy Star Wars as much as I do, but even if not, I am writing it for myself, I am trying to step out of my comfort zone, reach deep into myself, and in a life of struggling with the loudness of my thoughts, trying to put something down, manifesting my emotions and creating something physical from them; these characters that mean so much to me will never be real, I can never hope to speak to them, touch them, or see them in real life. They have although shaped me as a person and largely formed my psyche and morals, view of the world, inner monologue, even some of my characteristics.

So nevertheless, for me they are more real than a lot of people I know are.

***

To begin, I don’t intend to focus on the Jedi’s role in the war – it is of course vital, but I think the discourse about that is to be found more detailed in relation to the movies, namely the prequels, as CW is very much about the clones themselves. When I first started watching it, I will be honest, I didn’t think I’d find what I ended up finding – and that is such depth that I couldn’t imagine finding again, after being a fan of the movies, both OG and prequels, for so long. But was I wrong!

But let’s start with Ahsoka, since I started by mentioning the Jedi and she is one of the first new characters to appear (besides Rex and many others, of course). First, I wasn’t convinced that I liked her much – she was a bit of an annoying youngling for the first few seasons, after all. I wanted Anakin and that’s about it. Well, I got what I wanted, I think, as I am firm in my opinion that Anakin’s arc is so widely explored that you get a whole another view of his character, something I didn’t think was possible, after all – isn’t the entire saga about him? It is, but still – what I saw in CW, through characters such as Ahsoka and Rex, contributed so much to Anakin’s development as a character and leading force in the saga as I don’t think anything else ever did in the movies, any of them. So, yes, I got what I wanted, but also, I got so much more – Anakin is not my main point of discussion here, I think as main of a character he might be in this series, he is not THE main one, at least not for me. And as Dave Filoni is quoted saying – The Clone Wars is about Ahsoka and Rex.

Who are they? That was my main wonder when I first started watching – why would I care about a random clone captain and a youngling? They are both not present in the movies, and the clones themselves have very little personality there, they are just side characters, until they end up executing Order 66, which is of course devastating. But after watching CW, I completely changed my outlook on it, but more on that later. So, Ahsoka and Rex – admittedly, in the beginning, I didn’t find that much since it’s just mainly classic Star Wars battles and a loose plot that is not absolutely VITAL to the end result but brings so much deeper insight into the clones’ personalities, and ultimately through that to the whole feel.

What I really find devastating about this series is the nagging feeling of doom you inevitably carry with you – you spend so many episodes and seasons watching your favourite characters win numerous battles, you root for them, you cry and laugh with them, you grow so attached to them; but you know how the story ends, you’ve seen Anakin become Vader, again you know about Order 66, you know the Empire rises after all and Palpatine’s plan works – and every time you hear someone say “you’re going to lose this war”, you hope for the opposite, but you know they’re right and there’s nothing to be done – evil wins in the end of this. And as I read somewhere – this is a story that happened a long time ago – it’s over, it has already happened, there is no hope, at least in this series, which I find frankly terrifying. Amazingly done, but still heartbreaking.

Clones, war, and choices

The point about choices and what it means to be a soldier gradually becomes more and more pronounced as the show goes on – one amazing example of this is the Umbara arc where the 501st is led not as usual by Anakin, but by Pong Krell (who later turns out to be a traitor of course). This is one of the darkest moments in the show, as clones are made to kill one another, to sacrifice themselves without reason, and for the first time to face an incompetent, and frankly evil general, and to choose to disobey. This is for me a crucial moment, as the clones have never before chosen to disobey direct orders – they were, after all, made to comply and to follow what their generals tell them to.

"I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. That's how they engineered us. But we're not droids. We're not programmed. You have to learn to make your own decisions."

But here, we can see the conflict – especially in Rex, as he is the captain and has to face the general and answer for his deeds. He looks him directly in the eye and tells him they are not willing to go on a suicide mission, that they will not follow his orders, after he’s made them fight and kill their brothers unknowingly, and even ordered Fives and Jesse to be executed. However, Rex struggles with killing Krell, when he decides to; he orders him to kneel and points the blaster at his back but is unable to fire the shot. Once again, Star Wars proves that its plot has much deeper nuances and philosophies; for the first time here, we are faced with the harsh truth – the clones are people. We know that, but it somehow gets lost in the movies, as the focus there is on the Jedi’s end, which is just as tragic, of course. But before now, no one has considered what it really means to be a clone. They were made for war, they were made to die, their lives and their deaths were planned. Are the Jedi and the Republic, in that case, really the “good” side? That’s what I, at least, started to reflect on when I reached this point in the series, and it changed my whole outlook on the saga, on everything I have seen thus far. Yes, I still think the Jedi are cool and whatnot – but did they not deserve what happened to them for so blindly exploiting their soldiers? They didn’t know about Order 66 of course, and Palpatine is in no way right – but how come the Jedi are innocent in this? I don’t think they are, at least not fully. They could’ve stopped so much suffering and helped so many more clones, if not for their narrow views, which are all the reason for the clones’ suffering, Ahsoka’s leaving and consequently, Anakin’s betrayal.

"Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives."

Oh, Cody, Co-dy! The friendship the clones and in this case – Rex and Cody – share is truly precious and very accentuated in this arc especially (here the first arc of the last season) – it is Cody who Rex confides in about not wanting to lose any more brothers, as he knows he is one of the few ones who will understand him fully, what it means to be a soldier, to have to live with the morals of war, to have never known anything but loss. This is what makes Rex dive and slightly recklessly (thank God) search for Echo, proving that he’s alive, saving him from the tortures. They are brothers, and they never leave their own behind. But he is not possessive or jealous, and when he senses Echo’s pull towards Clone Force 99, he is ready to give him the push he needs to join them. He knows his brothers, as I said, and he knows the trials of war, so if Echo will feel even an ounce happier with this squad, he deserves it, after all he’s endured – “If that’s where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

Therefore, I love the Skako Minor arc and Echo’s retrieval, not only because it sets up the ground for The Bad Batch (I’m not even going to begin trying to explain what it means to me, as it deserves to have another huge debate on its own), but because it shows Rex’s devotion to his brothers – all of them. Even though he tries to be just a soldier, to live through the deaths, he still cares immensely, and that’s what makes him a good captain. His bravery is unmatched, he is always the one leading his men, and looking out for them, because he knows his men, he stands and fights side by side with them, and he’s ready to die on the battlefield, thus setting the example for everyone.

The philosophy of war is extremely complicated – this is what I enjoyed so much about the series (and the movies of course, politics and war is the main theme), among all other things; the fact that we see war as destroying, as a necessary evil, as a tragedy by itself – but war also created life in this case and its ending brought much more death than any of the battles ever did.

"The mission... the nightmares. They're finally... over."

I’m sorry, but I think I have never witnessed anything as remotely tragic as Fives’ arc – Palpatine told only him the whole truth, fully knowing no one would believe the clone hasn’t lost his mind; but the sacrifice the trooper made ultimately saved so many lives, mostly Rex’s, one of his closest friends. Fives never got to reunite with Echo but losing him made Rex realise how important every brother is to him, and in consequence, he never gave up on any of them (not that he was inclined to do so before of course). In his last sane moment, Rex begged Ahsoka to “find Fives”, and she understood. She knew the clones better than anyone and knew exactly what that meant and never doubted it for a second. Fives saved her life, too.

Fives’ arc is the first time the show begins to become darker and more sombre – it is also the point when we as spectators begin to realize what Order 66 actually means, having seen before only its results; but this time we see its execution, through the eyes of the clones themselves. They are forced to kill all Jedi, after being their most loyal soldiers, and honestly – incredibly loyal friends as well. They can’t control it and it’s not their choice – but that doesn’t mean they don’t realize what they’re doing – Rex said he couldn’t help it; Wrecker said he tried to fight it (The Bad Batch); Bly shot Aayla so many times, so she wouldn’t suffer and her death would be quick; Cody didn’t even check if Obi-Wan was dead; Wolffe didn’t kill Plo Koon. They were people, they were made to do inhumane things, but they found a way, they made a choice, so that they could somehow live with it after.

We get all of this through the clones’ perspective, rather than the Jedi, and it’s just as painful, if not more – we are used to hearing “the army betrayed its generals”, but what happens when we realise, they couldn’t do anything about it? What happens when we see the struggle, when we can almost feel the pain of having to betray? The clones, the most loyal creatures ever created, made for loyalty, have to turn on their generals, on their comrades, on their closest friends.

So, I come back to Ahsoka and Rex. We see them in the very first moment of the show, and they have already formed a bond, which is unlike anything else. They fight side by side the whole war – from the battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore – and Dave Filoni is truly right when he says this show is about them; but I think also in a broader sense. It is about two creatures who were destined to fight all their lives, who no matter their completely opposite backgrounds, turned out to be the same things – soldiers. Through and through, in their own ways. Their friendship transcends beyond all of this, they have a unique connection, that’s never shaken, even in the direst of moments; even years later, when they meet (in Rebels), you can feel their love for one another, the purest friendship there ever was, somehow ironically created by the ugliness of war and constant fight. Both Rex and Ahsoka suffered losses we cannot imagine – Rex says he tries not to hold on to any of his brothers, and Ahsoka is a Jedi, so it is forbidden for her to form such attachments; but we know. We see it in their eyes, we can hear it when they speak. Rex can never forget Fives’ death and the fact that he died thinking no one believed him; he ran to Skako Minor in an instant even though it might have been a trap, but the chance to save Echo was not one he was going to miss out on this time. And he saved his brother, against all odds. And he saved Ahsoka, as she saved him, time and again. Because that's what brothers do.

“I’m no Jedi” – an interesting phrase for Ahsoka and Rex to have in common, given how different both their roles and backgrounds seem to be, but it is indeed the one they unexpectedly share. Spoken first by Rex here, and then a lot later by Ahsoka in Rebels, it is highly unprovable that it’s on purpose. However, I don’t think anything in Star Wars is done without a reason, so I choose to believe there is some thread connecting them – after all it is Rex and Ahsoka, and that will always matter. What it means for both of them is simultaneously the same, yet different – Rex is the clone closest to the Jedi, there is no doubt about this; he’s used to their ways, he has as equally as strong a moral code, so it is somehow thinly implied that he acts similar to them, despite (or thanks to) being one of the strongest and most respected clone leaders. His closeness to both his general and commander is widely known, so no one seems to pay attention to the fact that he is actually a clone, as he makes his own decisions, and often chooses to fight where a Jedi would opt to step back.

Ahsoka and Anakin

For me Ahsoka became the best character in the whole saga, no ounce of doubt, sorry. She is the embodiment of the Force, she is fierce, loyal, but also incredibly wise for someone her age, and someone who is still learning. On many an occasion, she proves to be more experienced than Anakin (and in my book, experience outranks everything) and I feel like he’s learned as much from her as she did from him – if not more. She is the one keeping him sane and grounded, and I’m a firm believer that had she not left the order, he wouldn’t turn. Ahsoka’s presence brings so many new layers to Anakin’s character, that have not been explored before that and had she stood by him, he wouldn’t be able to become what he became. So, yes – ultimately, I blame the Jedi order for Anakin’s betrayal, I always have, but after watching this series, and seeing it from another point of view, I simply cannot be shaken. They took everything from him and left him alone, which has always been his weakest – he has always been this little child, terrified by the dark, later consumed by it, now unable to fight it anymore. The Jedi made him, and they unmade him too. In my opinion, he shouldn’t have ever been a Jedi in the first place – he is not like Obi-Wan, not like Yoda, not even like Ahsoka (who is not the traditional Jedi either, being trained by him) – he is so powerful and so weak at the same time, and that’s where his dilemma lays – who am I? Which side am I on? He doesn’t know, but no one is there to help him – Ahsoka included, as she (rightfully so!) leaves the order when she sees the truth about it. But she carries that guilt ever since.

She blames herself for leaving Anakin, she blames herself for not fighting alongside him when he needed it; for leaving her friend, her brother. If I were Ahsoka, I would have done the same – she was betrayed by the Jedi, not by Anakin, not ever, but still. He stood with the Order when she needed him by her side. And that is what destroys him too. The loss of his padawan, his most loyal friend is unlike anything else, and for her, leaving this life that’s all she’s ever known, transforms her view on everything. And when she inevitably returns, because that’s where she is supposed to be in order for the prophecy to happen – she must be there, but not by Anakin’s side; she doesn’t fit anywhere else, but she doesn’t fit there anymore either; and she can’t follow him, so she’s sent to Mandalore, again alongside the clones, her brothers, she goes down fighting with Rex. She’s always been his sister more than a Jedi; she didn’t ever belong anywhere else but on a battlefield. She may not be a clone, and she wasn’t meant to be a soldier either; but just like the clones, the war is all she’s ever known, and even though she was meant to be a peacekeeper, peace was something she never knew, especially after Anakin’s turn to the Dark side – even though there is no longer a war, she is forever tormented by the voices she heard in his last moments as her beloved master and the pain she felt when he left.

She knew it was over in that moment – Order 66 is by far the most heartbreaking arc of them all and I can never watch it without then spending weeks thinking about it – it’s genius, really, how Palpatine had this evil plan, dictated the whole war without anyone noticing; and it worked. It worked and changed the whole entire galaxy, and nothing could have prevented it – except maybe Anakin turning; and that is what Ahsoka can’t get over; she feels it is somehow partially her fault that the dark won; if only she hadn’t left, it haunts her forever. She doesn’t know Anakin is Vader, not until she meets him after, so she thinks he’s dead like the rest of the Jedi – and when she finds out what truly happened to him, she passes out (in Rebels; another terrific moment) because the pain is just too strong – the mixture of his known presence in the Force, and his new persona, that is torn from pain and suffering, feelings so intense and unknown to her she can’t understand them. It’s not her master, but it is undeniably Anakin. And he feels abandoned, he feels alone, he is guilty and sad and in constant pain, he is no longer there, not really, but then – he is. And the memory of what he once was, what he promised, everything he taught his padawan brings such pain for Ahsoka.

She may not think she is truly a Jedi, yet she is for me the only one of them I came to respect – she is never hypocritical, doesn’t leave anyone behind, not ever, and she fights for good, always for what she deems right, never feeling like she has to change for others, but in the end always blaming herself for their fate. She could never forgive herself for what happened to Anakin, and she can never forget her brothers, the clones, she suffers and grieves for every one of them, she knows their names, they were her whole world. And the only thing she had left, because they never judged and never tried to change her, they simply stood by her. Even when they had orders to kill her.

Rex and Order 66

Ahsoka’s master was gone from that moment on, and all she had left was Rex. The other main character, and I accept no objections to that statement. Rex is... the best one ever. He is, without any doubt, my favourite from this series. Putting aside my Ahsoka obsession, I didn’t expect to grow as attached to him as I did. Then again, I can’t separate them – for me, they are a team, the best one, and I don’t think I would have liked them as much had they not been the amazing pair they are. The connection between Rex and Ahsoka is what makes this series so different and so much better than the movies for me. It shows a level of true depth and caring that we haven’t really seen before – the type of platonic trust that few people find in their real lives. If I get to have just one friend that is as loyal, I don’t think I’d need anything more. Their story is so real, so touching and beautiful and sad – I think it is not only the best one in the series, but in the whole saga, and in any storyworld, really, for me personally. They meet a kid and a soldier, but they leave the war (or maybe the war leaves them) as equals, friends bound by experiences so unique and traumatic that they can never forget them, their bond can never be destroyed. They are soulmates, and they are forever. I don’t make the rules, sorry.

"Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it had never happened, but without it, we wouldn't exist.”

Rex says this to Ahsoka moments before he is forced to execute Order 66 and it makes me shudder every time I hear it. Knowing what follows, knowing that the clones that have been created for war, are humans with so much more nuanced feelings that they let themselves express, that they fear the war ending as much as others might feel a war beginning is incredibly twisted. They are not machines, they are much more than that, they have feelings, and they have morals, and they are afraid. Rex has never doubted his loyalty to his commanders, and never gave any reason to be doubted – never hesitated, never showed anything less than immense courage and skill. But now he stands before the only person he’s never been able to deceive, and he voices for the first time what probably has been torturing him for a while – the knowledge that he is expendable, that his life might be over, and that this might be what he’s always fought for – the end of himself and his brothers. Victory and death, indeed.

Viewers have witnessed many a clone death, and these last episodes are the culmination of it all – from that point on, every favourite character is in danger. Of themselves. One thing that the series does marvellously is bring personality to so many seemingly identical characters – in the movies we never get any detail about their lives, their characteristics, even their looks – but now I could recognize Fives from Echo in a second; they might have the same features and the same voice, but they are not the same. They are brothers, forged by the same essence, they share the same blood and the same heart, but they are individuals with thoughts and passions so diverse it’s impossible not to notice, not to adore.

Rex is Ahsoka’s best friend, as she reassures him moments before everything went to hell. He is the man who stood and fought by her side, and who watched her grow up. Who, when faced with the order to kill her, removes and drops his helmet in a desperate try to fight Order 66 (perhaps unconsciously, as he is being mind-controlled), and so she could see his eyes, see his tears, his struggle, his shaking, and know that he had no choice, know that on some level, he is asking for help for the first time ever, the soldier he is – he removes his helmet so he could look her in the eyes, his best friend, his sister, his commander; and she knows.

She’d ran to him, when sensing there was something wrong – of course, Ahsoka would run to Rex, because he’s Rex, he’ll know exactly what to say and what to do, and maybe he could contact somebody who can fix this; this can’t be real, the war is almost over; she’s still a child after all, she can’t face this now, not alone, not without Rex. She’s never had to face anything without Rex, it’s just unimaginable – but she runs to him and in his eyes she sees someone who is not Rex at all, and suddenly all the men she trusted with her life more times than she can count, are not the men she knows, and they want to hurt her, and Rex wants to hurt her, even though it makes him suffer. She sees his tears; she feels in him what she never believed she would.

The parallels in their relationship are just amazing – one of their first interactions is when Rex says to her “good luck, kid” on their first ever mission together – and it shows just how much he already cares for her, how he understands that beneath all her witty remarks and wish to prove herself to her new master (and his soldiers!), she is still a kid thrown on a battlefield – an unnatural atmosphere for anyone, but especially for a young child with no experience whatsoever. From then on, they just keep getting closer and their friendship grows stronger until it reaches a point where they can understand each other without even speaking.

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay”, Rex says, moments after Ahsoka has removed his inhibitor chip and essentially saved both their lives, all while putting herself at a great risk, just because she cares and she can’t do this on her own. In this moment, in his eyes, she is again the kid he first saw, scared about her friend, trying to prove that she can do it all on her own – this parallel is so important to me; she has never been in such a situation alone before, because she’s always had Rex, and now she’d almost lost him, after just reuniting with him; when for a split second there was something in his eyes that she’d never seen before, the only thing that saved her was Anakin and Rex’s training (shown in Tales of the Jedi). Anakin taught her how to fight enemies much stronger than herself, her brothers taught her how to defend herself, not knowing that she’d ever have to, especially not against them. It’s truly heartbreaking.

“Ahsoka, it’s all of us” – just seconds after she has saved him, Rex looks her in the eyes and apologizes for almost doing the undoable, for almost killing her, for being okay when she almost wasn’t. How would he ever live with himself, knowing that he betrayed his best friend? The animation has developed so much by this point, that in this last episode, it’s almost like watching real people acting, at least that’s how I’ve always felt; it feels real, the emotion is just so intense and so palpable – especially with this being the first time Rex says her name. She is his friend, she is the only one who cared enough to save him, thus saving herself, proving again and again her loyalty, the thing they have most in common. They understand each other like no one else can, they have been through everything together, and now, in these crucial moments, they have both proven it – she never gave up on him, she trusted him enough to save him, and in return, he is ready to follow her anywhere and die protecting her. From his own men. Barely awake, he’d reached for his blasters, shooting his own brothers to protect her, not even fully conscious yet. They are equal, they have become one through the Force, and if it wasn’t clear before, it is now – they are sticking together to the very end, no matter what they must do, no matter how. They are forever. Loyalty means everything to the clones.

This and what follows on the bridge of the ship as it’s coming down, are my favourite scenes from the series.

“I hate to tell you this, but they don’t care! This ship is going down, and those soldiers, my brothers are willing to die and take you and me along with them!”

Even though it’s animated, even though you can’t see his face, and the only thing is his desperate voice, you can feel the devastation when Rex utters these words, touching his chest, as he says “brothers” – he has always cared for them, his family, and has mourned every single loss, but now, when there is no other choice, he knows protecting Ahsoka is the most important thing there is – the mind-controlled clones can’t tell apart their own from a traitor, so what’s the point?

There is always a right choice – and Ahsoka proves it, when she gently removes his helmet, only to show what everyone but also no one suspected – Rex is crying, he is afraid and in pain, and she is the only thing he cares about. He’s lost so much; he can’t lose her too. But she always has a plan, and she is probably the only one who cares about the clones as much as him; they don’t need to explain themselves; she doesn’t want to be the one who is responsible for so much death; there’s been too much already. They have lived a life of war, facing death and loss every single day, and enough is enough. She wants to live, but not at the cost of murder. There is no doubt in her voice when she says that.

Burying brothers

What follows is truly devastating to watch – Rex facing his brothers, as a traitor in their eyes, as some of them stand before him, still wearing their helmets with Ahsoka’s Togruta design on them, the colours of the 501st closely resembling her lekku. They’d painted their armour as soon as they knew Ahsoka was coming back to them and they were getting their commander, and little sister back, their best friend, the only one who cares enough to remember all their names, who never turned her back on them, even now, when they are against her, she still tries to save as many of them as possible; she’s been the one whose hand they’ve reached to when dying, their last memory on this world her face, her bright eyes, full of life and care, her presence calming them in the face of the inevitable, as she will have to do now as fell, at the very end.

How must it feel to lose everything you’ve fought and hoped for, in a span of hours? Palpatine’s plan is truly ingenious. The war might have ended, but only on the outside; a much larger, much more painful fight has begun, inside, for Rex and Ahsoka, who now have to navigate a life they haven’t ever considered; they may have wondered what life after the war might be like, but not like this, never like this; not as heroes, not even as fighters – as traitors in the eyes of their most beloved brothers and the new control of the Empire. But they choose to fight until the end, crashing down, falling with the cruiser together, hand in hand; the parallel of them hanging on to each other in the hanger is precisely mirroring the moment of Anakin and Obi-Wan trying to push each other away during their legendary fight on Mustafar, which is happening at the exact same time. But these two don’t let go, they simply cannot face losing each other, not now, not after all of this. They’ve fought for years, so many battles, losing track of what the fights are about – but this last one is clear; they are fighting for each other. And when they are the only survivors, they take to bury their brothers, and grieve the colossal loss side by side, silently watching, because there aren’t words to describe what they feel, and it’s not necessary, so they don’t speak. They know.

"I don’t want to bury any more of our brothers."

The devastation and sheer exasperation we hear in Rex’s voice when he says this much later, in The Bad Batch, when talking about the inhibitor chips nonetheless, is all we’ll ever need to know about him. Laying low after the end of the war, separating from Ahsoka, believed to be dead; in fact – being dead to the world in every sense, this is the choice he makes. He’s witnessed almost all his closest friends dying, he’s lost his general, he doesn’t have a purpose and a goal anymore; he has to deal with the realization that the war is over, but it ended at way too high a price, and he’s a soldier – he will fight every day, until the end, because it’s all he knows. He’s the most loyal soldier, survived Order 66 at the highest price there could ever be, and he can’t lose more. He wants to keep fighting, and he will, but not to lose. Rex doesn’t want to feel this awful feeling of loss, not ever again.

The same goes for Ahsoka – even though she quits the order and never officially finishes her training, the Jedi life is the only one she’s ever known, so her path even after leaving, after the war ends, and after she separates from Rex, is one lead by the code to a large extent, even if done so unconsciously. She claims to not be a Jedi when she faces her master as Vader in Rebels, wanting to avenge him; but she doesn’t end up doing it, she can’t possibly kill Anakin. So, she goes on, living in this middle ground – she is not truly a Jedi, but what else could she be? She has led her troops in many battles, fought by their side; even when they didn’t have to, they still called her commander, as loyal to her as ever; recognizing that she stood by them, even held them as they died.

When The Resolute crashes after Order 66, we are aware that her and Rex took every single one of their fallen brothers, buried them, and displayed their helmets, putting Jesse at the very front, the one who’d wanted to kill them the most at the end. But they know better, it was not him, not after literal moments before that he almost went insane from Maul’s questioning because he didn’t want to betray Ahsoka; he deserved a recognition, even in death. Every single one of them did, and Rex and Ahsoka gave it to them. She lets go now of her lightsaber, the Jedi weapon that bears her identity, and lays it to rest next to the fallen soldiers, because she doesn’t want to have any more connections to this war, there’s been enough fighting. She dies here too – for what it’s worth, she fell with the clones. I can’t imagine how traumatising and terrible it felt, pulling body after body out of the debris. For both of them.

Brother after brother.

***

No matter what I say, or how much I write, I don’t think I will ever be able to express properly what this world and this series in particular mean to me. Of course I love all things Star Wars, but The Clone Wars will always hold a very special and exceptional place among them. It is a unique feeling, one I cannot put a word on, it feels too big for me, as if there is some kind of a boundary that is at the verge of explosion, it’s holding so much emotion, and there isn’t enough space for it inside. Perhaps it’s the depth and the exploration of the clones, their relationships, the empathy their lives evoke – creatures bred for war, individuals barely recognized in life. But still human, as Rex and Ahsoka remind us of the entire time – especially when we see them watching the arranged helmets of their dead brothers – the clones have not been just pawns, they are people; people who died for a cause they couldn’t have any say in. Their lives were not their own; but Ahsoka’s life wasn’t her own either. This is the tragedy of The Clone Wars, but there’s also an ironic beauty about it – Ahsoka wouldn’t have had her master or her best friend, if it wasn’t for the war. It’s a story about the philosophy of choice, hope, good and evil of course, friendship and loyalty. Victory and its highest cost, death; the consequences after a life spent fighting, which no one usually thinks about.

When the final shot rolls and we see Vader’s ominous figure step on to the same place where Ahsoka and Rex were last, as he digs his apprentice’s lightsaber and holds it, we realize what the moral of the story is. We see Anakin’s eyes behind Vader’s mask, and we feel the cold he feels – he ended up alone after all, after all his trying, he had an army, he led troopers, he cared for an apprentice, but he lost them all. He won the war, but he would rather have died with his friends – who he doesn’t know are still alive, and they don’t know what happened to him either; instead of being their enemy. But the time for choosing is over, and there is no going back for him now.

His reflection hits the clone helmet, and we see the image of Anakin, walking away from Ahsoka and Rex.

It doesn’t end with the war; it begins with it.

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