#boost trooper

[doctorslippery]

Rocket Brigade poster by Josh Guglielmo

[boggsart]

My boys about to drop the sickest album of the century

[brokenphoenix99]

GOOD BOY 😏

Belated entry for @cloneshiprarepair February ship: Boost/Sinker/Wolffe

Animated Bonus!

Tiny art Tag list: @loverboy-havocboy @earlgreyci @elismor @nooneherebutaghost

Non-scratched armour close-up, image with full text, and drawing base under the cut

AAaaa this was ridiculously FUN!! I used this base as the framework for their upper bodies and just went from there XD

(I tried to find the original artist of the base with reverse image search etc for credit... please let me know if you know!)

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Bad Batch x Fem!Reader where they haven’t realized how much they like her and having her apart of the team because they didn’t want to get attached but then they see her with other clones having fun and being tactical and huggy with them. I’m a sucker for jealous tropes and the “she’s ours” stuff! Thank you! Xx

“Ours”

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Commander Wolffe, Boost, Sinker (104th)

⸻

The Bad Batch didn’t realize how much they liked having you around—until you weren’t just around them anymore.

You’d been reassigned temporarily to assist the 104th Battalion for a joint operation, something about terrain recon and hostile base infiltration. The job was meant to be routine. Easy. Quick. But it had stretched to three weeks, and that was three weeks too long for Clone Force 99.

“She’s fine,” Tech said for the third time that day, eyes on his datapad but noticeably less focused than usual.

“Of course she’s fine,” Crosshair muttered. “She’s annoying. Won’t shut up. Talks too much. Laughs at stupid jokes.”

“She does make the barracks less quiet,” Echo added, but his words sounded more like a confession than a complaint.

Hunter remained quiet, brooding in the corner, arms crossed. Wrecker finally broke the silence.

“I miss her.”

No one argued.

⸻

When they finally returned to Anaxes to regroup, they weren’t expecting to find you on the tarmac—leaning against a gunship, laughing with Commander Wolffe and his men.

You had your arm slung around Sinker’s shoulder, mid-sparring banter, sweat-slicked and flushed from training. Boost was tossing a ration bar at you like it was a long-running inside joke, and Wolffe—stoic, grumpy Wolffe—was standing beside you with the faintest upward tug at the corner of his mouth.

You laughed and said something that made the entire squad snort.

Wrecker stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait—are they hugging her?”

Crosshair’s scowl darkened. “Why the hell is she touching Sinker?”

“She’s laughing,” Echo muttered. “At his joke.”

Hunter’s jaw ticked. “Let’s go.”

⸻

You saw them before they could storm up and cause a scene—which, let’s be real, was already inevitable.

“Hey!” you called out cheerfully, waving them over. “Look who finally decided to show up. I was beginning to think you all forgot about me.”

“We didn’t,” Hunter said. The rest of them were staring daggers past you at the Wolfpack.

Wolffe raised a brow and drawled, “We took real good care of her. Didn’t we, boys?”

“Too good,” Sinker smirked. “She’s basically one of us now.”

“She is one of us,” Boost added, throwing his arm around your shoulders with obnoxious ease. “Got the bite to match.”

You didn’t see it, but every member of the Bad Batch visibly twitched.

“She’s not a stray,” Crosshair hissed, stepping forward.

“Could’ve fooled us,” Wolffe shot back, “considering how quick you were to let her slip away.”

“Wasn’t our choice,” Tech said stiffly.

“You sure?” Sinker smirked. “Didn’t seem like you were fighting too hard to keep her.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, woah, no testosterone fights on the landing pad, please.”

Wrecker pointed dramatically. “You hugged him!”

You blinked. “You’ve hugged me!”

“Yeah but that’s different!” he whined.

“Why?” you challenged.

Silence.

Hunter stepped forward, voice lower now. “Because you’re ours.”

Your breath caught.

Wolffe’s grin turned downright wolfish. “Took ‘em long enough.”

You looked between both squads, caught between amusement and surprise. “So let me get this straight… the 104th is adopting me, the Bad Batch is reclaiming me, and I didn’t even get a say?”

“You always get a say,” Hunter said, quieter now. “But we want you to know how we feel.”

“And how’s that?”

Wrecker was first. “I missed you.”

“I hated not having you around,” Echo added.

“Everything was quiet,” Tech admitted.

“You’re mine,” Crosshair said, almost growled. “Ours.”

Your eyes flicked to Wolffe and his boys.

Wolffe shrugged. “Guess we’ll let you go this time.”

Sinker grinned. “But if they mess up, you know where to find us.”

You snorted. “What is this, the clone version of a custody battle?”

Boost winked. “Only if it means you come back for visitation rights.”

You laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll go home. But I am visiting the 104th again. You guys are a riot.”

Hunter stepped closer, head tilting. “As long as you come back to us.”

You smiled, softening. “Always.”

The air between you and the Batch shifted—less tension, more heat, more home. Hunter didn’t touch you, not yet, but his presence lingered close, electric.

You turned back toward Wolffe and the others, grinning. “Thanks for everything, boys.”

Sinker gave you a two-finger salute. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Yeah,” Boost chimed in, winking. “Just remember which pack took you in first.”

You rolled your eyes, walking backward toward your original squad. “You’re all insufferable.”

“And you love it,” Wolffe called after you.

echoed behind you.

Then, low—too low for most ears, but not for Hunter’s enhanced senses—Wolffe muttered to his boys, voice almost casual:

“She’s still got a bit of wolf in her now. Let’s hope they can keep up.”

Hunter stopped walking.

His head tilted just enough to catch the last of the words. Not angry. Not threatened. Just… cold.

Possessive.

His jaw flexed.

Crosshair noticed first. “Problem?”

Hunter didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked to your back—laughing with Wrecker about something stupid—and then back to the 104th retreating into the barracks.

“No,” he said finally. “No problem.”

But when he looked forward again, his voice was steel-wrapped velvet.

“They can howl all they want.”

He caught up to you in two strides.

“We’re the ones she’s running with.”

[w31rd0-art1st]

Something that refuses to leave my brain:

Would clones have belly buttons? Because from what I can tell when we see the baby clones that are still in the growth tubes, they have no umbilical cord. So, do they just not have belly buttons??? Would they think belly buttons are weird????

Someone stop my brain before it drives me more insane from thinking about this.

[veny-many]

My headcanon of Wolfpack's gathering be like:

[maisy7567]

Plo and his bros (Boost, Wolffe and Sinker).

[tangents-within-tangents]

The Wolfpack is so punk but I feel like it's just because they suffered such an extreme sample selection bias. Like when you watch 'Rising Malevolence' Plo Koon just exudes serene vibes, and Wolffe is all calm with his neat dress grays and his regulation haircut and soft voice. And then Sinker and Boost take off their helmets and it's like double red mohawk and beach blonde up in here. Like was all the 104th like that or is it just that the two punkiest troopers ended up in that escape pod and suddenly became 50% of the battalion?

[se-sissy-lina04]

Sissy’s masterlist

Welcome to the delulu-but-safe Star Wars AU

Here are a few scenes from our new reality:

1. Plo's Bros have a weekly tea time with Plo Koon.

Wolffe is responsible for making sure no one is late. Boost always brings cookies that no one likes, but everyone eats them to make him happy. Plo has a huge collection of various teas – his favorite is "Yobacca Green."

2. Bly and Aayla train young Padawans – together.

And yes, they often laugh. Bly is the strict, calm type who teaches the young Jedi tactics, while Aayla does Force exercises with them and then beats everyone at holochess. In the evenings, they sit on the terrace of the Jedi Temple – sometimes hand in hand.

3. Cody and Obi-Wan argue about who cooks better.

Cody insists on "functional field food," while Obi-Wan makes space-vegan fancy food. Once a month, there's a cook-off, and Anakin is the incompetent but passionate judge. Spoiler: He burns his tongue every time.

4. Ahsoka and Rex conduct a training program for new clones.

They teach them to think and feel. Every recruit gets a nickname from Ahsoka – with a ceremonial tap on the helmet. Rex pretends to find it silly, but he loves it.

5. Fox now runs a police academy.

He trains young guards—focusing on compassion, ethics, and self-defense. His office is bright, he has plants and a picture of Thorn, Thire, Stone, Hound and Grizzer on the wall. No one has to hunt innocent Jedi or follow demands of a maniac sith in disguise. No one. Blaster are turned to stun. Always.

6. Padmé is alive. Anakin is not Vader.

They have twins – who spend the night at Obi-Wan's in the temple because "Uncle Ben" reads bedtime stories better. Anakin pretends to be cool, but he calls every hour to ask if they've eaten anything.

Welcome to the Star Wars healing AU.

Here is space for laughter, tea breaks, and broken clones who finally get to find peace.

Here you can be delulu – with heart, helmet, and hope.



[xylionet]

Something is bothering me about clone armor.

We have had "neck visible under helmet" confirmed by Hunter's slutty, slutty neck:

HOWEVER. Clones have been GOING INTO SPACE IN THEIR ARMOUR. Unsealed? With their bare naked, blood filled necks exposed to vacuum? Are you mad?!

And yeah yeah yeah, Fives and Rex that one time had prep time, they even have oxygen hooked up to their helmets. But Boost and Sinker did not.

Surely surely surely this armour is meant to seal. Space aside, there's like gas and hot particles of debris and all manner of shit you don't want shooting into your helmet via your neck hole.

Perhaps it's a thing they can unseal for heat reasons. Perhaps Hunter is an exhibitionist and necks are like Victorian Ankles for clones or something idk.

It still has to seal though. I will die on this hill.

[deserthusbands]

obi-wan, looking intently over at where wooley is standing with some of his brothers from the 501st who are trying to count each little star on his armour: cody, dear, care to explain why wooley's armor is, well. covered with.. gold stars?

cody: oh, those? just a little morale booster, general. you know, for exceptional service.

obi-wan, raising an eyebrow: ah, yes.. i remember. and why, pray tell, does wooley seem to have more than the others?

cody: i never noticed that,

obi-wan chuckles, realizing cody's subtle favoritism, then wraps an arm around his shoulder.

obi-wan: well, cody, i suppose every battalion needs its own constellation.

[boggsart]

There are a lot of things i messed up while making this, a lot of weird issues i encountered but couldn't fix, but someone already said i'm yapping way too much when i talk about my work, so i'm just gonna shut up lol. And enjoy, next one on the list is Captain Tukk 💙🪶 (there's no teal heart emoji so just imagine) I also just had to sneak in the sassiness™. I mean... woudn't you?

Here's one for Tech

Here's one for Hunter

Here's one for Rex

Here's one for Echo

——————————————————————

taglist: @callsign-denmark @techwrecker @dahscribbler @lightspringrain @dreamsandrosies @brainless-tin-box @thecoffeelorian @luzfeather @burningfieldof-clover @99tech99 @theglitterdark @fangirl-goes-nova @foundenterprisefamily @fanfictasia @jedi-hawkins @megmegalodondon @lifblogs @photowizard17 @isthereanechoinhere96

[singsofecho]

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hello! I gotta say I love how you write the banter between the clones and it honestly is so funny and cute. Could I get a Fox or Wolfe x reader where maybe he goes to wear something that he doesn’t know reveals a few marks from you the previous night and his brother notices and tease him? That’s the main request but I’d love if you’d add anything else plot wise to make it more full and complete Xx

“Battle Scars”

Wolffe x Reader

Wolffe didn’t go out often. Boost and Sinker practically had to drag him to 79’s that night, not because he hated it, but because he hated the noise, the chaos, the unwanted attention.

But mostly?

He just preferred being alone with you.

Unfortunately for him—and fortunately for everyone else—Sinker had shouted something about “you owe us after ditching two poker nights in a row,” and now he was stomping toward the bar in a casual black shirt (one you may or may not have helped him out of the night before), grumbling like a man headed to execution.

He hadn’t noticed that the neckline sat just a little wide across the collarbone. Or that a certain faint purple mark was blooming just below the edge of the collar on the left side. Or that there were more—not too obvious, but definitely visible if you were looking.

And Boost and Sinker? They were looking.

“Kriff, Wolffe,” Sinker said, the moment they’d taken a booth and ordered drinks. “You finally let off some steam, huh?”

Wolffe blinked, raising a brow. “What?”

Boost leaned in with a sh*t-eating grin. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I can see the bruise on your neck from here.”

Wolffe stiffened. “It’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Sinker cut in. “That’s either a love bite or you got in a fight with a Nexu.”

Boost sipped his drink, eyes glinting. “And judging by the one just peeking above your collar? Our dear commander got wrecked.”

Wolffe growled, yanking his collar up slightly. “Shut it.”

“Who’s the lucky one?” Sinker asked, already leaning across the table like he was digging for state secrets.

“None of your damn business,” Wolffe muttered.

“That means it’s definitely someone we know,” Boost said with delight.

“Is it one of the medics?” Sinker mused.

“Maybe that intel officer with the legs?”

“I bet it’s—wait.” Boost froze, grinned wider. “It’s that civvie he always walks to the transport bay, isn’t it? The one with the nice voice—what was her name again?”

Wolffe looked like he was calculating murder odds.

“[Y/N]!” Sinker snapped his fingers. “She’s always smiling at you. Maker, I knew it.”

Wolffe stayed dead silent, drinking his beer with the expression of a man who would rather fight General Grievous shirtless than have this conversation.

“Wolffe,” Boost said slowly, “you sly di’kut. You’ve been holding out.”

“You’re smiling,” Sinker said, pointing. “Look at him, he’s smiling. That’s a post-blissful-night smile.”

“I am not smiling.”

“You are,” Boost confirmed, nodding sagely. “You look like a man who got thoroughly appreciated. Several times.”

“You know what,” Sinker said, raising his glass, “I’m just proud. Our boy’s finally unclenched.”

Wolffe muttered, “I will kill both of you.”

⸻

It was well past midnight when you heard a familiar knock—two short, one long—on your door.

You opened it to find Wolffe standing there, looking deliciously rumpled. His black shirt was half-untucked, collar slightly askew, his hair a little mussed, and that glare in his eye… the one that always meant either someone pissed him off, or he was thinking about you.

He stepped in without a word, the door hissing shut behind him. You crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall, hiding your grin.

“Well, hello to you too, Commander.”

Wolffe stopped in front of you, eyes narrowing.

“You,” he said lowly, voice rough with exhaustion and a hint of that familiar gravel. “Left marks.”

You blinked innocently. “Did I?”

He arched a brow. “Sinker counted three. Boost said one looked like it bit back.”

You tried—really tried—not to laugh. “I told you not to wear that shirt.”

“It was the only clean one,” he growled.

You shrugged with mock innocence. “Not my fault your brothers have eyes.”

Wolffe stepped in closer. His voice dropped, heated now. “They wouldn’t shut up.”

“Poor you,” you cooed, lifting your hand to his collar and gently tugging it further aside to admire your handiwork. “But if it’s any consolation…”

You leaned in, lips brushing just under his ear.

“I’d be very happy to leave more.”

Wolffe stilled for a moment. Then you felt the sharp exhale of his breath, the way his hands suddenly found your hips, firm and possessive.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smirked. “Not tonight.”

His mouth was on yours before you could get another word out, rough and hungry and just the right kind of desperate. You didn’t mind. You’d apologize for the marks never.

And judging by the way he walked you backward toward the bedroom?

Neither would he.

[w31rd0-art1st]

Me after looking at countless pieces of fanart of the clones and finally looking back at what the clones actually look like in the show: What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you look like that.

[veny-many]

In Korea, the country I live, May is often called family's month, because in this month we have children's day, parent's day, and teacher's day as well. Especially for the parents' and teacher's days, we prepare carnations to gifts and share the respects and loves. What am I saying ah so anyway just made simple sketch and that's all.

This is a tear shed from lazy me who just lost the timing of May the 4th.