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68 hours until the finale.
how we feelin?
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What am I grateful for, and what does The Bad Batch mean to me? Gosh, honestly, where do I start...?
[Just like your request fic I've been working on, Dragon, this is likely going to be not-so-brief. đ
]
Credits where credits are due: The Bad Batch and The Mandalorian got me into Star Wars again. TBB gets slightly more credit than Mando when it comes to what made me willing to engage in fandom spaces again.
I saw (and experienced) so much negativity, misogyny, and gatekeeping following the release and aftermath of The Force Awakens (2015), The Last Jedi (2017) and The Rise of Skywalker (2019) that I shied away from the franchise and fandom almost as a whole.
I wasn't seeing a lot of "support" for people with my viewpoint of the sequel trilogy at the time. People just couldn't accept nuance; it felt like you either had to hate them or love them from what I saw, no in-betweeners. (I'm able to acknowledge they were the weakest "leg" of the franchise, but I still enjoyed those films for what they were (inherently ridiculous sci-fi). I accept that I may be something of an oddball for that.)
I got so sick of experiencing gatekeeping and/or misogyny in just about every discussion I (perhaps incorrectly) thought was safe to engage in, too. If people (read as: mostly men) I was discussing things with realized that I was a woman, they saw it as an invitation to try QUIZZING ME on my knowledge of the franchise to see if I was "actually a fan, or just some casual".
I didn't really have an interest in keeping up with a franchise I "previously" loved following all that mess as closely as time went on. I grew less and less interested in SW and Marvel became my big thing for a while.
Star Wars was just kinda. There. I didn't feel like entertaining the fixation with any kind of urgency anymore.
Then The Mandalorian dropped in 2019. Like most of the world, I fell in love with Mando and Baby Yoda. That tided me over until 2021, when we got season 1 of The Bad Batch. And oh boy.
That's when things really clicked again. I fell in love HARD with the franchise again and a whole bunch of things fell into place once I decided the Clone Wars era was were I felt most comfortable being and found the most interest (because so much ties into and branches off from that three-year period!).
I started writing fanfiction again, slowly, and Sorry, Wrong Comms! became my first major series following season 2 of TBB.
I started making a few friends and connections in fandom spaces again. Better friends who showed me *support* and *ENCOURAGEMENT* rather than *veiled mockery* in hyper-fixating on a 15 year old animated show and it's spin-off. Friends who've never made me feel like I was enjoying the material in the "wrong" way, or that I wasn't allowed to like certain characters.
I started making art again last year because of Star Wars after years of letting those skills lapse! I taught myself Aurebesh for my art upon realizing that while I may not be able to draw people anymore due to skill degradation, I can still make fanart of the characters I love by using their helmets. (Hell yeah for symbolism!!)
I have a pretty nerdy family. Nerdy stuff makes up a large part of how we bond and spend time together. (I should talk about how my sister and I have been parallel-playing Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom sometime.) My dad has been into Star Wars for a long time and I used to go to him with all my SW questions because he was "the" family member for it. Now it's gotten to the point that I've dug so deep into all this stuff that follows after TCW (TBB, Rebels, Mando, Andor, Kenobi, Ahsoka, even Jedi: Fallen Order and Jedi Survivor) that I know more about some of this stuff than he does! So now I get to talk about it with him. Nearly every Wednesday morning (or shortly after) I get to tell him about the episode(s) I watched once they released.
I know people have expressed worry that once TBB ends, the fandom's gonna go dormant again, which will be partially true as some people will lose interest and move on.
But I do not see myself breaking away from the franchise any time soon. Not when Mando and TBB brought me back in. There will still be plenty to talk about. Make art about. Write clever and/or silly AUs for. Fix-its. The works.
I will still be here because while I'm not the target audience for a couple of kids' shows, this is the stuff that makes me happy, and (not to get too dark) gave me something to use to get me out of bed each day when my depression got terrible in the winter months, not too long ago.
A goofy space opera of all things was what I used cope with my Seasonal Affective Disorder while it absolutely kicked. my. shebs.
And it worked. Depression's back to its baseline as the temperatures slowly rise where I live (there's no shortage of sunshine!) and things feel "normal" again as we're creeping into May.
And though it may be the end of the line for our beloved Defective And Effective Clones come the 1st of May, the love will last for a long, long time.
Before TBB Ends...Regardless of HOW it Ends...I've Got to Say Something...
In 2021, TBB was released, and over the last few years, it's grown to mean a lot to me. Not just the stories, the storytelling, the characters whom we've fallen in love with and hope to see more of someday, whose stories we've learned important lessons from, but how it profoundly affected my life.
And it is something I am incredibly grateful for.
Regardless of how the show ends, if it's something I'm going to love or be totally heartbroken over and hate, I'm so glad it happened and went on this journey.
For one, it gave me the plug to start writing. Writing was always a dream of mine but it wasn't until I discovered fanfiction, because of TBB, that I actually realized it. I had this idea of writing and thought I'd never really be able to accomplish that. The show enabled me to move past that and I've been able to be enflamed by my love for writing. It brings me so much happiness. No other show pushed me to write like this one.
Secondly, my writing has allowed me to touch and interact with people. I can't tell you how much it means to me and how thrilled I am to hear and learn my work has touched you in some way. I'm humbled by your words and taking the time to actually read and appreciate what I've written.
Thirdly, I've gone on so many adventures, crazy amazing adventures because of what other brilliant minds I met through the show have written. There are SO many great stories that just hit me so.....I was touched by your stories that you wouldn't have written if you hadn't watched the show!
Lastly, but CERTAINLY not the least, I have made SO many friends and writing buddies because of this show. It has connected me to so many cool people that I otherwise may never have found. I've grown really close with some of you, while others, though we may not be friends per say, I hope we can someday. In the meantime, I will admire your work from here. You guys mean so much to me and I can't even begin to express how wonderful it's been getting to know you over the past few years. The fun experiences we've shared, the theories, the stories, all of it. I am not putting this as well as it was in my head so please forgive that.
This includes but isn't limited to: @eclec-tech @photogirl894 @apocalyp-tech-a @lizartgurl @jedipoodoo @arctrooper69 @carolinetano7567 @trapezequeen @ghostofskywalker @masterjedilenaaa @ladysongmaster @moonstrider9904 @klmwrites @techs-stitches @ovaa-bi-bia @frostycatblr-fandom-files @imabeautifulbutterfly @sverdgeir @oceansssblue @marvel-starwarsfangirl @jedi-hawkins
How about you? What are you guys grateful for? Reblog and share what TBB meant to you!
Copy and paste the red as your header and let's see how many people we can get so share their stories!
I will end with no other quote than this!
"With love comes loss; it's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it's all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."
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I recently realized that Thornâs death is right after Fivesâ and I couldnât pass on this angsty idea.
Enjoy the pain
Transcription:
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When I was âI want himâ about a male character im not saying I wanna fuck him. I want him like a spoiled little girl wants a pony, I want to him so I can put him on my shelf for safekeeping, I want him like a good hearty stew on a winterâs evening, I want to put him in a jar and shake it.
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The Closet
Summary: The Wolfpack is sick of the constant arguing between you and Wolffe, so they take matters into their own hands. Surely if you and the Commander were accidentally locked into one of the supply closets, youâd come to some sort of middle ground, right?
Well, thereâs one thing theyâre forgetting⊠youâre claustrophobic.
TW: small spaces, claustrophobia, panic attackÂ
Word Count: 4.7k
-> Reader uses she/her pronouns - masterlist can be found here <-
âItâs the perfect plan!â Boost exclaims, slapping the table in front of him for emphasis.Â
The mesh hall is relatively crowded today, many hungry troopers finally getting some time to relax after another tough mission. Despite the loud chatter of the room, Sinker keeps his voice low.Â
âIâm not sure,â he concludes with the shake of his head âit sounds risky and Wolffe is in a bad mood as it is, I donât want this to make him worseâ.
At the other side of the table, Boost shares a mild look of annoyance with Comet. âCâmon Sarge, this solves all of our problems!â Comet replies with a whine. It took him and Boost the past week to come up with this plan, putting more time into it than theyâd like to admit.
With a deadpan voice, Sinker replies âOh so this will end the war? And kill Dooku? And wash the gunships? Each and every problem we have will be instantly solved if we lock them in a supply closet?ïżœïżœ.
Boost shrugs, trying to stay optimistic âYou never knowâ. Sinker scoffs, rolling his eyes at his brother.Â
The plan was simple but Comet and Boost couldnât do it alone. They needed Sinker for this to work. Sighing, Boost leans across the table âLook, all you have to do is get her into the closet on the lower deck, thatâs itâ.Â
Sinker is still unsure. âWeâll get the Commander, shove him in there, lock the door and ta-dah! Job doneâ Comet adds.Â
This doesnât sound like a good plan. Sinker knows that but it is enticing. Heâs not sure if he can handle another mission full of you and Wolffeâs bickering, the two of you proclaiming you canât stand the other.
Missions would be much easier if you both avoided each other but no, despite the constant arguing you two engage in, you will still insist on being near one another, whether that be sharing the same holomap (which is an absolute nightmare to witness) or standing next to one another in a briefing (which leads to you interrupting him and vice versa for the entire. damn. briefing.).
Sinker wants to say no, to put a stop to his brotherâs shenanigans but would this do any harm? Maybe if you both got the opportunity to confront one another and get all of this arguing out of your system once and for all, then you might come to some sort of middle ground and let bygones be bygones.
âIf I agree to thisâŠâ he begins and Boost impulsively throws his fist in the air âYes! You're in!â.
âI said ifâŠâ Sinker says sternly âif I do this then the two of you have to wash the gunshipsâ.
Boost nearly falls off his seat âH-how many are you expecting us to wash, Sarge?â.Â
âI want four done by the end of the next rotationâ.
Although Comet has never experienced a heart attack, heâs sure this is how it feels âWhat?! Four? Câmon Sinker, be reasonableâ.
He folds his arms âBoys, if you want my help then thatâs what itâll cost yaâ. Exchanging looks to one another, Comet huffs âFine, we agreeâ.
***
The sound of your name makes you look up, eyes wide as you scan the corridor. Manoeuvring through some troopers, Sinker comes into view.Â
Closing your datapad, you give the Sargeant your full attention, a relaxed smile on your face.Â
âSinker, what can I do for you?â You ask.
A flicker of sympathy crosses Sinkerâs face as he answers âWell, I was just wondering if you could help me get some batca patches from the supply closet. Thereâs a whole box in there but, well, yâknow me, I accidentally pushed them behind the shelving unit and now theyâre stuck between that and the wall. Do you think you could get them for me?â.
âYeah, sure,â you reply, so quick to help that it makes the ball of guilt in Sinkerâs stomach grow âlead the wayâ.
While usually you and Sinker always find things to talk about, heâs strangely quiet during your walk to the lower deck. Itâs not something that alarms you but instead, it worries you.Â
Itâs no secret that things have been intense lately. The missions have gotten deadlier, injuries are harder to aid and the Separatist army seems to be growing more and more by the minute.
Even something as simple as accidentally knocking some bacta patches behind a cabinet seems like a dire problem nowadays.Â
âItâs that one, just up aheadâ Sinker slows his pace, pointing at one of the closets.Â
âYouâre not coming in?â You quirk an eyebrow, slowing your pace to match his.Â
âHm? Oh⊠uh, no I have to go help the General with something⊠sorry, I shouldâve said that beforehandâ he scratches the back of his neck, preferring to look down at the floor.
âThatâs ok, you go on ahead, Iâll take care of thisâ with a firm nod, you open the door to the closet and disappear inside. Once Sinkerâs certain the door has fully closed behind you, he lets out a long sigh. Kriff, that was harder than he thought it would be.
The inside of the closet is dark, the dim lights taking a few seconds to boot up. In your time serving the GAR, youâve been on a multitude of ships, covered with the most cutting edge technology and yet in each and every ship, the closets are always neglected.Â
Theyâre a second thought in comparison to the other elements of the ship. Cluttered floors, racks that are full of various stock that are probably out of date, a musty smell in the air, dull lights that are incapable of doing their sole purpose. Itâs not a place you want to be for a long time.
Trying to look behind the metal shelving units, you mumble a curse. Itâs dark behind the cabinets with barely enough space between them and the wall for you to fit your arm through.
Stooping down, you reach into the darkness, trying to find this damn box of bacta patches so you can quickly leave again.Â
Youâre so invested in finding the box, you pay no attention to the voices outside. âWhy would the General want to meet me in there?â A voice says and without missing a beat, another voice replies âIâm not sure, Commander, I thought it was best not to askâ.
Behind you, the door opens but with the position youâre in, itâs hard to turn around and look. âI havenât found it yet,â you call out âkriff, how far back did it fall?â.
The person doesnât reply.Â
âI know youâre really busy just standing there and all, Sinker,â you huff âbut Iâd really appreciate some helpâ.
âSinker?â the voice scoffs, making you freeze. Clumsily removing your hand from behind the cabinet, you stand up straight and come face to face with Commander Wolffe.
You have to admit, you didnât think youâd come this close to him, your chest almost bumping against his as you sway backwards to give him some space. âOh! Commander-â you start but Wolffe talks over you.
âI know us clones all look the same but the last time I checked, Sergeant Sinker has silver hair and both of his biological eyesâ. You can hear the venom in his voice, his tone laced in sarcasm as he continues âJust a tip, so you donât mix people up next timeâ.
You canât help scoff, retorting âMix people up? I wasnât even looking at you! Am I just supposed to sense how many biological eyes you have?â.
âYou should look whenever someone enters a room,â Wolffe begins to lecture you âthatâs protocol 101; always be aware of your surroundingsâ.
âMy apologies, Commander, I didnât realise I came here to get a lesson in GAR protocolâ you snap back. This is a usual occurrence whenever you and Wolffe are near each other, neither of you backing down and arguing until youâre separated by the others.
With the rolls of his eyes, Wolffe gestures towards the door âJust go, I have an important meeting in hereâ.
âWith pleasureâ you mumble, trying to move around the Commander without walking straight into him or colliding with the multiple cabinets.
Wolffe leans to the side, huffing loudly just to make sure you know this is a bother to him, giving you space to step over one of his legs and move to the door.
Your fingers brush against the control panel to the door, lighting it up. Nothing happens. You wait a few moments before doing it again but this time you press harder on the panel. Still nothing.
âHuhâŠâ you crease your brow, repeating the action for a third time.
You hear some movement behind you and Wolffe turns his body to face you, peering over your shoulder at the control panel. With his critical gaze on you, you try again but to no avail.Â
âAre you pressing it hard enough?â his voice is gruff and surprisingly close to your ear.Â
You jerk your head away from him âJeez, are you trying to make me go deaf? Of course Iâm pressing it hard enough!â. With extra force, you press down on the control panel again.Â
Nothing.Â
Wolffe rolls his eyes, reaching his arm around you and trying it himself âObviously youâre not if the door isnât openingâ. Stabbing his finger at the control panel, you hear a small â...ohâ from behind you when the door still refuses to open.Â
âMove over, let me have a proper look at itâ Wolffe puts his hands on your shoulders, abruptly guiding you away from the control panel as you both switch places in a shuffling motion.
Now with Wolffe closest to the door, you lean against one of the cabinets, firmly planting your hands on the cool metal.Â
You can feel your face becoming flushed, a surge of warmth spreading across your cheeks. The door will open, of course it will. This is just a small malfunction, thatâs all. And then you can leave this stupid closet and never come back here again.Â
Trying to distract yourself, you decide to subject yourself to small talk with Wolffe.Â
âSo, why are you here anyway?â you ask, your grip tightening on the shelves as if youâre bracing for impact.Â
Wolffe keeps his focus on the control panel, fiddling with it as he answers âThe General wants to meet me in here, says itâs something importantâ.Â
Are you hallucinating or did he just say the General? Clarifying, you ask âGeneral Plo wanted to talk to you⊠in a supply closet?â.
âThatâs what I saidâ.
âAnd the General said this to you himself?â you pry, trying to ignore the loud thudding of your heart.Â
âNot exactlyâ putting his hands on his hips, Wolffe pauses his investigation of the control panel âhmm, it was Comet and Boost. They said he wanted to meet me hereâ.
You force out a small laugh âAnd you believed them? Really?â.
Wolffe says something you donât quite catch, something in Mandoâa. Running his hand down his face, he gives the control panel a death stare for good measure.Â
âThe bad news is the door is locked from the outside, so I canât open it from here but the good news is the maintenance droids run on a tight schedule so one of them should beâŠâ glancing over his shoulder at you, his words fail him and for a moment, Wolffeâs taken aback.
The puzzled look on the Commanderâs face makes you feel even worse, an overwhelming feeling of dread consuming your senses. âWhat? What is it?â you question, your tone a little too confrontational but thankfully Wolffe doesnât bite back (for once).
âWhy is your face so red?â.
Your stomach twists in directions youâre not sure itâs meant to, utterly embarrassed by such a question. Averting your gaze, your eyes lock onto the shelves that line the room, so cluttered it feels like theyâre swarming you.
If you reach your arm out, you could touch almost any shelf. Could you do that beforehand? Is the room getting smaller?
With the surprisingly gentle call of your name, Wolffe brings your attention back to him, his hands out in front of him as if heâs trying to tame a wild animal. âJust tell me whatâs wrong,â he coaxes, moving closer to you âare you hurt? Is that why you're in here?â.
With his hand a mere inch from touching you, you flinch, pressing yourself deeper into the cabinet as you screw your eyes shut. Itâs not that you donât mind being touched but the thoughts of feeling such a dominant presence as well as the cramped aura of the room makes your stomach churn.Â
âNo, no, I donât like this room,â you blurt out, voice beginning to shake as you continue âeverything feels too tight, itâs all too close, I-I donât like itâ.
Wolffe can handle fighting battle droids, kriff, he can even hold his own against a sith but this? He knows heâs out of his depth but Wolffe also knows this isnât the time to freeze, not when itâs you. Right now, you need him and heâll be damned if he doesn't help.
He notices your tight grip on the shelves, your knuckles turning white as if youâre holding on for dear life. âDo you want to sit down?â Wolffe keeps his voice uncharacteristically soft, stooping to the ground in the hopes youâll follow.Â
Hesitantly opening your eyes, you scan the floor below. Itâs covered in loose, discarded items that once sat on the shelves but have since been looked over and forgotten.
Is there any part of this closet thatâs clean? That doesnât feel crowded? Your head pangs, pain lingering across your forehead.Â
You let out a whine. Wolffe keeps one of his hands stretched out to you, opening his palm wide âDonât be stupid about this, let me help youâ.Â
You donât think he can help, in fact you donât think anyone can help you right now. But then your gaze meets his. Wolffe looks up at you with calm, hopeful eyes, his rough exterior and brazen nature slowly melting away.Â
You try to take a deep breath but the tightness in your throat makes it an impossible task. You donât want to take his hand, you donât even want to look at Wolffe right now, the embarrassment of your involuntary actions making you feel worse. But what other choice do you have? Itâs not like you can walk away, you can barely take a step forward without face planting a cabinet.
Nervously nodding your head, you take his hand. Wolffe tentatively encloses his hand around yours, watching your reaction closely. At any sign of further discomfort or even the slight jerk of your hand, he would let go, not wanting to accidentally make matters worse.Â
âGood⊠finally, you actually followed an orderâ he jibes, the subtle smirk on his face letting you know heâs not purposely dissing you. Although this is a comment youâd usually roll your eyes at, you weirdly find comfort in his typical teasing.Â
With his hand to steady you, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. âThere you go,â Wolffe comments âwere you hurt? During the last battle?â. He knows you said itâs the room causing this but he doesnât see how thatâs possible. Not unless this was somehow caused by an injury you sustained in battle, one thatâs only rearing its head now.
You shake your head, though that only makes you feel dizzy. âNo, no⊠i-itâs too tight, this room, I need to get out,â you reply through laboured breaths.
Keeping one hand enclosed around yours, Wolffe uses his other hand to reach up and try the control panel again. He sighs when nothing happens.Â
Letting out a small whimper, you slip your hand out of Wolffeâs, using both of your hands to pull your knees up against your chest as you hang your head low.Â
Youâll never hear the end of this. Out of all the clones aboard, why did it have to be Wolffe in here? The one person you know will bring this up at a later date just to get the upper hand in an argument.Â
What makes it worse is that you know heâll only view you as being weak after this. Wolffe is a man thatâs been through so much in his life, surviving a countless number of battles, disasters and attempts on his life. The heavy feeling of shame makes you hold onto your knees tighter. Wolffe is such a strong soldier and here you are, crumbling because of a locked door.
The soft sound of your name drags you away from your internal self-criticism, followed by a poking sensation on your leg.
Barely looking up, you see Wolffe prodding your knee, repeating your name again as he adds âI canât help unless you give me something to work with, tell me what I can doâ.
Wolffe has always had mixed feelings about you but that doesnât mean he wants to see you upset. Sure, youâre stubborn⊠and feisty⊠and a headache to work with but in fairness, youâve always been there for the Wolfpack.Â
After a tough fight, youâve helped them bandage up. When you donât have full faith in a plan (usually one of Wolffeâs) youâll create a backup plan for when things inevitably go off track. Even on those quiet rotations, when memories filled with loss and regret begin to flood his brotherâs heads, youâre there, listening to them. Youâre a comforting presence in many of their lives, even Wolffeâs.
But donât even ask him to say that out loud. Thatâs never going to happen.
He pokes you again âCâmon, itâs not like Iâm going anywhere⊠even if I wanted toâ. You huff out a laugh, though that proves harder than you initially thought, your dry mouth making the laugh sound more like a cough.
If you donât get out of here soon, you think you might get sick, the anxious feelings in your stomach continuing to gnaw away at you.Â
âI⊠I need to get out, I need to leaveâ with newfound determination, you begin to stand.Â
The second you plant your feet on the ground, you know itâs a bad idea, feeling your muscles tremble. Itâs as if you can feel each and every one of your nerves twitching, your body involuntarily trembling with panic.
Wolffe is quick to follow suit, trying to stand without knocking into one of the shelves. âWoah, take your timeâ he says a bit more sharply than he anticipated.Â
âNo, let me leave, I need to-â before you can even finish your sentence, your legs go from underneath you. You drop, about to crash back onto the ground when Wolffe catches you, scooping you up in his arms.
âWhat did I tell you?â He mutters with a huff, fully enclosing his arms around you as he lowers you back down to the ground. âStay low,â he orders âthe last thing either of us need is you fainting and smacking your head against the floorâ.
You thought the feeling of someone else near you would make this worse, adding a new layer of suffocation to your mixture of emotions. But itâs actually kinda nice, the warmth radiating from Wolffe acting like a warm, welcoming blanket of comfort.Â
Being in the professional setting of the GAR for so long, youâve forgotten how soothing physical touch can be at times. Although your reaction is subtle, Wolffe notices how you faintly lean into him, your head a mere few inches from resting on his chest. He watches you for a moment, studying your face.Â
Thankfully, you have your eyes closed again so heâs not worried youâll catch him staring at you. Even though youâre in the middle of a panic attack, you look more relaxed than usual. Or at least more relaxed than how you usually are around Wolffe.Â
Whenever he sees you, itâs only a matter of time before you both get worked up, the two of you bickering or making not so subtle jabs at one another. But looking at you now, thereâs not a single trace of that annoyance he normally associates with you.
âJust relax, take some deep breathsâ he encourages you, using his hand thatâs resting on your upper back to give you a gentle nudge towards him. Wolffe isnât sure how else to let you know itâs ok to relax against him, seeing the option of saying it directly being too awkward.Â
He gives you a small smile and an approving nod as you do exactly that, letting your body fall against him as you rest your head on his chest.
Your hand comes up to his chest too, clutching onto the firm fabric of his Commanderâs uniform, something youâre grateful heâs wearing considering his plastoid armour would be way too uncomfortable to relax against.
With your eyes still closed, you attempt to take some deep breaths, your breathing hitching every now and again. You try to sync your breathing up with Wolffeâs, finding the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest to be a lulling piece of comfort.
The tight sensation that grips your heart doesnât fade instantaneously but you have to admit, itâs nice having someone close. It gives your mind something else to focus on instead of the cramped room, Wolffeâs presence distracting you from your worries.
The only time Wolffe ever expected you to be this close to him is if you had enough of his shit and decided to swing for him. Never in a million years would he imagine you being so peaceful and close to him.
With your voice coming out as a small whisper, you mumble âThank youâ.Â
His heart beats faster at your small piece of gratitude, something Wolffe hopes you canât hear through his uniform. Heâs not used to things like this. Give him a blaster and Wolffe can handle himself just fine but holding someone and trying to comfort them? Thatâs not his strong suit.Â
Taking a deep breath, you speak again, this time projecting your voice a bit more. âDid you really think you were meeting Master Plo here?â you sniffle, your head still aching but thankfully, the painâs beginning to dull.Â
Wolffe has to stop himself from doing another eye roll, not wanting to start a fight or get you worked up again. âThatâs what I was toldâ he grunts.
To his surprise, you let out a small, genuine laugh. It makes his hands twitch, wanting to pull you even closer and relish in your laugh but he resists the urge.Â
âAnd who told you that again? Oh yeah, Comet and Boost, two troopers known for their unwavering seriousness and hatred for pranksâ you laugh, something Wolffe is thankful to hear again.Â
âAlright you got me there,â he admits, knowing it wasnât the smartest move to believe his troublesome brothers âbut why are you in here? Did they say the same thing to you?â.
âActually it was Sinker,â you reveal, getting rather comfy leaning against the Commander âhe asked if I could get some bacta patches he accidentally dropped behind the cabinetsâ.
You can feel Wolffe deflate, puffing out a deep breath âPlease tell me you didnât actually believe thatâ.
âWhy?â You crane your head to look up at him, watching as he tries to suppress his annoyed expression.Â
Although youâd never say this outloud, he looks nice like this. Looking up at him in this position gives you a great view of his jawline, both of his eyes peering down at you and a genuine smile playing at his soft lips.
Damn, maybe you did actually hit your head. Trying to refocus on what heâs saying, you push any admiration you have for the Commander deep, deep down.
âBecause the batca patches are stored on the upper deck,â removing one of his hands from you, he runs it down his face âkriff, youâve been on this ship for months and you donât even know where the batca patches are storedâ.
While you would normally jeer back a response or scoff at Wolffeâs remark, immediately becoming defensive, you find it hard to do that after everything thatâs happened.Â
You finally feel relaxed again, a calmness settling in your stomach and putting your heart at ease. Youâre in no mood to start a fight and frankly, you donât think you have the energy for it either.
Instead you laugh again. After all, Wolffe has a point. You shouldâve known where the bacta patches are kept and if you did then you wouldnât be in this predicament. It was a silly mistake and at this moment, you canât find the energy within you to do anything but laugh.Â
Wolffe chuckles too, appreciating your reaction. Shrugging, he admits âCanât blame you too much, it was only last week I realised the caff machine in the mesh hall has more than one settingâ.
âSeriously?â you laugh again âBut the default setting on that thing tastes like droid oilâ.
âI know that all too wellâ Wolffe shakes his head, almost tasting the sour caff on his tastebuds from the mere mention of it.
You open your mouth to speak again but before you can, the door slides open, the bright lights from the corridor making you squint. A droid whirls into the room, taking no notice of you and going about itâs own business.Â
And just like that, your time with Wolffe is over.Â
Giving him a small smile, you climb off of him, getting to your feet. Watching Wolffe stand too, a sudden awkwardness hangs over you. Is that it? What do you say now? Thanks for the help but Iâll still call you out the next time youâre a jerk?
Noticing Wolffeâs expression, itâs clear youâre not the only one feeling this way. âWell, I guess thatâs thatâ he nods, gesturing for you to leave the closet. You do so gratefully, shuffling past the droid and stepping into the wide and spacious hallway.Â
When Wolffe steps out, youâre sure you see a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. But you quickly brush past it, blaming it on your vision still adjusting to the bright lights.Â
âAre you going to be okay from here?â Wolffe asks, though it takes you a few moments to process his words, Wolffeâs head hanging low and voice just above a whisper. Youâre not sure why heâs talking so low, itâs not like thereâs many troopers on the lower deck to overhear.Â
âYeah,â you try to sound confident in your answer âIâll take it easy for the rest of the rotation, just in caseâ. In an effort to persuade him, you give Wolffe a quick smile.Â
âRight, well you know how to contact me if you need meâŠâ he replies before realising how soft that sounds, immediately breaking eye contact with you and clearing his throat âor just go to the medbay, yes, thatâs the better option, do that instead of contacting me. Iâm very busy todayâ
âBusy getting stuck in closets?â you playfully tease, trying to brush past this awkward energy.Â
He chuckles âBetter me than youâ. Kriff, that sounds too soft too. Wolffeâs not a tender, warm hearted kinda guy, so heâs not sure why heâs trying to be that around you, even if itâs subconsciously.Â
Quickly shoving his feelings to one side, Wolffe chalks it up to your rare vulnerable moment bringing out his protective nature. Thatâs it. The next time heâll see you, things will be normal, none of this small talk or softened expressions to one another.
With the curt nod of his head, the Commander walks away. Itâs true, he does have a lot to do today but if you were to contact again, heâd be there in a heartbeat⊠even though heâs not exactly sure why heâd feel so much urgency to be there for you again.Â
You blink a few times, surprised by his abrupt exit. But then you remember this is Wolffe so his sudden departure shouldâve been expected. After all, heâs âso busyâ. Rolling your eyes, you walk in the opposite direction, deciding to track down Sinker and give him a piece of your mind.
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A little sketch/doodle inspired by this (positively adorable) post from @deserthusbands of Obi Wan putting a big gold star sticker on Cody's chest plate.
The GAR's Golden-boy deserves the biggest of star stickers, after all.
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Egg the Crow in this ongoing story by @levi-venn has kinda stolen my heart, but that's okay.
Egg is a very good crow in a very good story; please go give it a read!
Something quick I doodled while I've still got a stable connection, pardon the photo quality.
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Prompt 10 with either Fives or a clone of your choice from @the-bad-batch-baroness list of prompts? đđ
The Long Way Home [Fives x Reader]
Prompt ten: "Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" "It's starting to rain."
List of all prompts found here [X]. Prompt will be highlighted in blue.
Warnings and Information: Wanting a taste of domesticity the moment he gets shore leave, Fives wants to spend the day with you doing general couple-ly things. A little shopping at the early winter markets of Coruscant, and utilizing every excuse to shower you in all the compliments he can to make up for lost time. When the weather has other ideas regarding your shared plans for the day, Fives is determined to make the best of a less than ideal situation.Â
This is a general fluff + relationship fic at its core; friendly for all ages this go-round. Reader written with fem!reader in mind, not described save for minor notes about clothing and briefly implied (but not specified) height difference. Fives being a sweetheart. Sprinkling of Mandoâa as a treat. As an additional treat, Order 66? Don't know her; Palpatine died and the Republic won the war. đ©· 2nd person POV.Â
Word-count: 5,912
There's a knock at the front door of your residence, one you've been eagerly expecting most of the morning. You're quick to reach the door, keying him in so he can step inside where it's warm. He's late; which he had warned you about well in advance. And the first thing he offers before his usual hellos is an apology.Â
A well-practiced one at that, from the warm cadence of his voice, brimming with just the right amount of shame.
âI'm so sorry to keep you waiting, mesh'la, I-â
You tug him close with the collar of his civilian wear (a thick, handmade sweater given to him by Hardcase who had recently taken up knitting since breaking one of his legs - so you're certain to handle it delicately) in a very practiced motion. As expected, it shuts him up just long enough to get a word in while he puts himself nose to nose with you. Practically close enough to taste the words on the othersâ lips. âHey. It's okay Fives. I understand the captain probably needed your help with something, or, you volunteered yourself to help. Again.â Your partner with his well-groomed goatee has a penchant for stepping up and lending a hand to a brother in need, brave and dependable to the end.Â
Full lips dart apart, the tender flesh brushing over your own lips being this close is nigh impossible to avoid. âAre you teasing or expecting an answer?â Fives asks, hinting to his building confusion below a toothy grin. âMakinâ it hard to tell what you want when I canât see all of your pretty face.â
That's fair of him to say, you should suppose. âMostly teasing,â you promise him, at last permitting yourselves to kiss one another as part of the process - brief, chaste, sweet. âYou know I wouldn't press you for details if it was classified ARC business.â You never have. Never will until you know the mission has been completed at least; because while you often burn with questions (as is only natural and expected in what was once a friendship, now a partnership) pertaining to his duties and practiced protocols within the GAR, you take the mantra âloose lips sink starshipsâ very close to heart.Â
Should you ever say something that could jeopardize the safety of the one you love, youâd never forgive yourself.
âNo, not ARC business,â Fives offers at last, âI, uh⊠I told you I was gonna be running late because some of my brothers asked for my help with something kinda last minute.â The palm of his left hand strokes the back of his neck in a self-soothing fashion, a tell of either embarrassment or shame. âI couldnât bring myself to say noâŠâÂ
âYoung brothers?â
Fives only answers with a nod and an appeasing smile, knowing where this is going.Â
âStar-struck little brothers wanting to ask whatâs it like being an ARC trooper, and how they can train to be just like you?â you muse, exaggerating your train of thought with a couple of taps against your chin with the finger of your non-dominant hand, the other arm wrapped across your body.
It does not slip your notice how his tanned face begins to look a little flushed when you playfully bat your eyes at him for good measure, knowing what that kind of praise does to him combined with the light teasing.Â
âMore or lessâŠâÂ
You giggle, not at him or at his expense, but more the mental image than anything. You can picture Fives, being as eager as he was to come see you now that he had shore leave, getting roped into regaling doe-eyed Clones with lengthy recountings of his service since becoming an ARC. All he wanted to do was peruse the early winter markets with you, the entire idea his from the start; and there he was, at least an hour of his precious free time used up already. All because he was too much of a selfless and wholeheartedly good person for his own good, on occasion.Â
âIâm sure they appreciated you and Echo doing that.â Fives doesnât have to mention his surviving squadmate, Echo, to know that the other half of the nicknamed Domino Twins had sacrificed his own time to answer a few (or a hundred, more rather) burning questions. âIâm sure the captain did, too.â
The humble grin is confirmation enough for you. You can continue to tease him later, however - youâre both wasting daylight the longer the two of you choose to linger in your comfortable Coruscanti apartment rather than getting the rest of your things ready. Light coats or other appropriate outerwear still needs to be gathered, the credits youâve been setting aside for this occasion needs to come out of hiding, and he still needs to collect the rest of his civilian-wear he planned on wearing. Thereâs only so much space within trooper accommodations for everything heâs accumulated since the start of your relationship. Thick-knit hats, fleece-lined gloves, a scarf in 501st blue, things of that nature.Â
And boots. Itâd probably be wise to grab a pair of all-weather boots rather than tromp the markets in your slipper-socks, no matter how tempting the smooth streets would prove.Â
Fives is ready far sooner than you, owing to how little he needed to add or change into to be more weather-ready, but he waits patiently. No teasing remarks for how long it takes you to disentangle a simple scarf from all the others, or the childlike nature of repeating the phrase that helped you remember how to tie your shoes even to this day, or any of the other silly little habits you comfortably show in front of him. Thereâs only a warm, endeared smile to be seen. Heâs just happy to be here, to be in your presence after so long, and see all these little puzzle pieces into why he loves you as though for the first time, every time.Â
âWhat are you staring at?â you ask with a bemused laugh bubbling up from your throat. Time to time, you struggle to figure your partner out, wondering what can be chalked up to his training and what can be passed off as quirks unique to him. Youâve gotten better with time and practice, being able to discern these instances. âWhatâs on that beautiful mind of yours, Fives?â
âNothing more than perhaps the most beautiful person in all the galaxy, cyare.â Fives replies in earnest, dazzling you with one of those smiles that had charmed you since the very beginning. âAnd how I get to spend most of my first day of shore leave with that person, all to myself.â
Torn between scoffing and brushing him off with oh surely you canât mean the most beautiful person thing and trying to shield your flushing face from view, so certain your cheeks must be scarlet red with all the flattery, you busy yourself with ensuring your door is locked and secure against unwelcome visitors. Thereâs been a minor rash of break-ins lately, and you know that a simple door lock wonât do anything to deter the truly determined - only the honest - it always seems to get a bit worse just before large deployments get shore leave⊠funny how that goes.Â
At least you get a little help when it can be spared by those serving with the Corrie Guard, given your proximity to the senate buildings here. There was no small amount of surprise the day Commander Fox himself turned up at your doorstep to follow-up with a reported break-in for the unit above your own. He could claim he was there just to ask if you happened to notice anything, and nothing more than that, but you knew better. Working in loose relation to the complex goings-on with the Galactic Senate and the red-clad commander turning up only two hours after mentioning the incident to Fives was too big a coincidence to ignore. (You can only wonder what strings in the line of communication your smarty-pants of a boyfriend had to pull in order to get in touch with Commander Fox, directly.)
A smarty-pants that you had all kinds of preconceived plans to spend the rest of the day with, all to yourself.Â
The ambling walk to the marketplace offers the pair of you plenty of time to catch up since you last spoke on the comms just over two weeks ago; it was a Zhellday if you're not mistaken.Â
You don't really bring up your work if you can help it; the problems seem so trivial when you compare them to the frustrations of stamping out those stubborn pockets of Separatist resistance Fives and all his brothers have been dealing with since winning the war just a year ago. A malfunctioning caf-machine spraying your last clean work uniform seems like nothing compared to a desperate firefight against the horrifying, mechanical amalgamations the standard CIS battle droids have become as less and less functional droids become available.Â
You have to ask Fives to be sure you heard him right after he says it. âHold on: it had eight arms?âÂ
âSome Separatist-sympathizer - one who's, admittedly, crafty but incredibly elusive - has been a real pain in our shebs for a while now. âCase was so badly spooked by the crazy-looking clanker that he fell over backwards on a crate full of smuggled produce.â Fives explains, struggling not to laugh when explaining of all possible ways Hardcase recently broke his leg, it was falling over backwards on a box of illegal fruit and veg.Â
âHeâs okay, right?â you prod, âWhat'd Kix have to say about the break?âÂ
It's touching to Fives when you show your concern for his brothers, knowing you have genuine interest in their well-being. You always have. When you heard that the production of the cloning facilities were coming to an end on Kamino thanks to Chancellor Organaâs new bill, your immediate thought had been for the young cadets who had not yet finished training.Â
What's going to happen to those little brothers, Fives? All the Clones still developing in the tubes and the nurseries and-
Mesh'la, with any luck, they'll become the envy of the entire GAR. They'll never have to taste war like we have if we squash out the remaining Separatists sooner than later.Â
Fives gives the cuff to one of the sweater sleeves an experimental tug with a beaming smile. âKix said the worst of it will be the bed rest for Hardcase. At least he's found a way to keep his hands busy between the physical therapy he has to do, thanks to Dogma.â
âAww. That was kind of him.â you croon. He mirrors the relieved smile, sharing in your relief that his brother's injury was not as bad as you feared. He begins fishing through one of his pockets for something, saying he has a picture to show you.Â
âHardcase made Dogma the ugliest possible blanket using yarn we had scrounged up for him as a way of saying thanks. Thing's got all sorts of colors from baby pink, to brick red, even a smidge of neon yellow somewhere in there.âÂ
Without question, the immaculate bunk within the frame can be none other than Dogma's. Laid out in a uniform manner is a tidily-knit but disorganized rainbow of yarn in every shade of blue and a handful of other colors. (Sure enough, you can pick out the baby pink, the brick red, and the neon yellow Fives previously mentioned.) Honestly, you think it looks ugly only because there's no reason or order to any of the colors. A crisp, sky blue next to the imagined dryness of such a dusty shade of red is a bit jarring, visually.Â
âCase was likely working with the colors of yarn as he received them, if his brothers were coming up with loose odds and ends as Fives claims they did.Â
You voice the question that crosses your mind the more you look at the image in your boyfriend's hand, âDoes Dogma actually use the blanket, or is it just for show until it's time to sleep?âÂ
âWondered that myself.â Fives admits to you with a cheeky wink between thumbing over to the next picture, a still of Dogma tucked under both the GAR-issued blanket and Hardcaseâs, âIt was so worth pretending to be asleep for forty-five minutes just to get Dogma to go to bed.â Dogma's always been the last to fall asleep within shared accommodations, so for the ARC trooper you're arm-in-arm with to have pulled the oldest trick in the book in order to get to the bottom of a low-stakes mystery, you can only imagine how disciplined you'd have to be to lay so still and silent for that long.Â
âWhy not just ask him in the morning?â you laugh, realizing how simple it would be to do just that rather than go through such efforts to trick someone into going to bed. Fives shrugs noncommittally in response before tucking his personal device away again, now that you're both within earshot of the outdoor winter market.Â
It's bustling with activity, even for Coruscant. The pressing crowds and all-encompassing noise will make it difficult to carry on catching up in a meaningful manner for much longer.Â
âDogma's not much of a talker in the mornings, sweetheart.â Fives says with a chuckle. âThough to be fair, not a lot of us are either.âÂ
Strange⊠they've always seemed so⊠talkative and alert whenever you've had early morning communications with Fives. Those bleary-eyed video calls spent simply staring at the other, not too sure what to talk about in particular. The stolen minutes between breakfast in the mess hall and the barracks. (The lunch breaks where you've snuck off somewhere secret and pretended you're sharing the same ration, they've been talkative for certain!) Have you just done a poor job of noticing until now? Or are they better at masking how awake they truly are than you expect? But okay, fair enough.Â
Now that you were here at the market, youâd be more than a little preoccupied to be thinking about it much longer, with Fives tucking his fingers between yours to prevent both of you from getting separated from the other. Itâs rather busy; it must be the morning rush before everyone has to reluctantly shuffle off to work. And you should probably expect to have more than a few elbows - or entirely unaware people - knock into you and Fives while youâre here.Â
What catches Fivesâ eye first is a female Besalisk vendor with armfuls of rain repellers for sale (one for five credits, or two for ten) with a business partner checking news sources for reports on the weather nearby.
âAh⊠knew there was something I forgot to check before getting to your apartment.â He says, quickly casting his eyes skyward. Certainly enough, there are rain clouds gradually building overhead. Strange. While it is technically early winter, this time of year typically has a weird, transitional period regarding the weather. Not quite past the sometimes cold and drizzly days of autumn, but still too early to dust off your proper snow coats from where they've been hiding in the back of your closet.Â
âLetâs get one to be safe.â you suggest with a reassuring squeeze of your hand in his. If you buy one of the repellers and end up never using the thing, then you were over-prepared with little consequence. Having one more thing to carry wouldnât be that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, surely. âHi,â you address the vendor cheerfully, âa repeller for five credits, right?â
âThatâs right! Pick whichever one youâd like, dears.â she tells you with a kind wink, thrusting the set of arms bearing all of the rain repellers a little further for your inspection.Â
Fives wastes little time in selecting a repeller with a sleek and subtle design, something he thinks youâd like, perhaps. Heâs incredibly thoughtful in that and many other ways. Itâs one of the many parts of him that you ache for in his absence, the fondness for his charisma and slight cheek only deepening when heâs away, aiding in the peacekeeping efforts now that the galaxy is largely free of the Separatists. (How strange that things fell apart so suddenly for them, following shortly after the rather untimely and unexplained death of Sheev Palpatine (that, surely, canât be related, right?) just last year.) You know heâs not giving up the fight just because they say the Seppies have surrendered, not when thereâs still work to be done to make the galaxy safer for everyone.Â
Fives isnât still fighting the good fight just for his brothers, but for you too. Every last far-flung outpost they capture, each bubble of resistance they burst, itâs always the same message that finds its way to you, no matter the time and no matter the distance.Â
For the Republic. For my brothers. For my Karâta. Talk to you soon, sweet.Â
Both of you thank the vendor, and set off on your way, imagining what curiosities and delights could be found by the two of you together on this cold Coruscanti morning here in the intergalactic market. With a cultural hotbed like this - a diverse focal point in the heart of the galaxy with a population of roughly two trillion that is Coruscant - thereâs no telling what you and Fives will see, from the familiar to the fascinating.Â
In a dramatic, sweeping gesture Fives invites you to lead the way into the heart of the market with a dizzying grin, promising to follow wherever you roam.
âAfter you, angel.âÂ
Youâll only be there for an hour before the increasingly-inclement weather decides to become a little more concerning. Those cotton-soft clouds, planted in the lofty airspace high over even the tallest sentient lifeformsâ head(s), are beginning to appear denser and darker than they were when you set off this morning. Weather reports you peek at while Fives discusses something with a Tatoonine-born vendor suggests you might have another hour before proper rainfall.
âYou say the yarnâs a bantha-blend, right?â Fives clarifies, gingerly juggling a few twisted hanks of it in his hands to get a feel for the softness. âWould it work for projects meant for⊠say, kids?â The vendorâs eyes flick to you, just for a second, and you can imagine what sheâs thinking. Your partner catches that too, so Fives clarifies further. âSomeone I know had twins last year. Tryinâ to, uh, contribute to a special present for the little ones. Brother of mine got some good yarn from Naboo to represent the mother. I was asked to find something to represent their father while I was here, if I could.âÂ
As could be expected, the yarn-seller is now tittering excitedly about how sweet it is that he and this unspecified brother (whoâs definitely either Jesse or Kix) are looking to put together something for this âsomeone they knowâ who had twins. Sweet little twins who youâve happened to see crawling around the floors of the senate building out of the corner of your eye, as a matter of fact. But youâve been aware of the âopen secretâ nature of the Skywalker-Amidala twins for some time now, and know youâre supposed to treat it like itâs more of a classified matter than it is in reality.Â
Yeah, how strange that Senator Amidala and General Skywalker spend a lot of time together. Or that little Luke and Leia show up in the Jedi Temple on occasion, just as a last minute âfavorâ to the Senator - of course!Â
âYes, the yarn should be appropriate for the little ones!â the vendor promises, exchanging the appropriate credits as change from what Fives hands her as payment before gingerly bagging the hanks of bantha-yarn for him. âYouâll find a card with the best care instructions with your purchase inside the bag. Thank you for your business, folks.âÂ
When you've stepped beyond the earshot of the yarn-seller, now again arm-in-arm with Fives as you meander the little sector that seems to be dedicated to all things Tatooine, you feel it's safe to tease.Â
âYou're getting better at lying, Fives.âÂ
âMesh'la-â Fives warns you.
âOkay, okay⊠Stretching the truth, if that's what you insist on calling it, mister ARC trooper.â you add.Â
Fives doubles down on the insistent, close to disapproving tone. âMesh'la⊠I've told you several times now, you know why we treat it like a secret.âÂ
âI know, Fives, I was only teasing.â you promise, offering an apologetic expression.Â
You understand the faux secrecy is largely in relation to the response of some members of the Jedi Council when the inevitable truth about Senator Amidala and not just one child, but two, came to light. There's been a great deal of speculation from the 501st Legion of Anakin Skywalkerâs expulsion from the Order; speculation that has them worried. Selfless to the end, the Clones are just as concerned for the fate of their General as they are about their own.
You change the subject as you pass a stall brimming with food-based goods from the Outer Rim planet, a warm, spicy odor cutting through the ambient smell of chilled steel and duracrete surfaces. Looks to be samples of an alteration to bantha steak soup. Something being offered to the market-goers to warm them up as the temperatures fall day by day, or hour by hour.
âRemind me: ever tried any food from Tatooine?âÂ
âSome of it's decent.â Fives admits with a chuckle. âOr, it will at least beat having rations for every meal. But nothing beats your cooking, cyare.âÂ
Your cooking, among many things, is what Fives has been looking forward to most about today, about shore leave. A chance to come home, a chance to catch one another up on the things theyâve missed (things too important or lengthy to say over comms), and a chance for splitting a hearty meal practically invented for sharing with the ones who mean the most to us. Same thing with coming to the market. Fives didnât want to do a little shopping just to see what was new on Coruscant; he wanted to spend a little time with you away from home first, maybe find something special to buy to mark the occasion.
To be home after so long is a very special thing indeed.
âHope youâre in the mood for soup tonight.â Itâs a little simple, you tell him, but no less comforting or flavorful. âDidnât know how tired youâd be, when you came home this time.â
âYou spoil me.â Fives murmurs lovingly, craning his neck for the moment to plant a sweet, gentle kiss in the crown of your hair and against your temple. His full lips are warm, and where youâve been kissed seems to glow with that warmth compared to the surrounding chill. âWhatâd I do to deserve you, karâta?â
Thereâs that word again. Pronounced KARH-ta, as heâs taught you.
It's Mandoâa, meaning heart.
âWell, you kept the galaxy safe,â you answer with a sweet smile, âI think thatâs a pretty deserving reason, donât you?â
The warm, heartened smile is all you have to see to know he feels the same way. He helped keep the galaxy safe, yes; of course he should deserve to live a good life with everything said and done. With every bill and law passed towards the betterment of life for Clones after the war, it tastes like the sweetest victory, over and over again. If there was anyone more deserving of thanks, it was the mighty multitude of men who came from Kamino.Â
As youâre turning the corner of a larger booth within the sprawling outdoor market, Fives mentions that somewhere down the lane he can hear a live performer playing covers of popular songs on what must be a hallikset.Â
âMust be another one of your little soldier tricks,â you tell him with an impressed shake of your head, âI canât hear any of that. Whatâs a hell- hall-? Wait, what did you call it?â How did he pronounce that so easily?Â
Youâre not surprised with many a Clonesâ proclivity to be little cultural sponges that Fives seems to have the answer ready for you before you can pull something out of your pocket to search up the instrument he mentioned for yourself. âHalliksets are seven-stringed instruments popular on Naboo. Here, letâs get a little closer.â Fives offers, leading the way ahead to where he hears the music coming from. He wants you to be able to hear it better, to experience it for yourself. Appreciate it fully.
You momentarily pity the playerâs poor fingers once you get closer, noting how red with cold they are. Like you, the halliksetâs owner is wrapped in layers between a thick jacket, a gray hood and a long scarf wrapped around their neck. But with the beautiful way they play, plucking and strumming each perfectly tuned string, you wonder if they don't notice, or care. Perhaps the lack of gloves to keep their hands safely warded against the cold is worth it to them for the amount of credits they're pulling in. There's several fistfuls at least, all piled up in the open instrument case.Â
âWow⊠I don't think I've ever seen one before, but it's beautiful; it's a beautiful instrument.â you offer your observation to Fives after spending a few minutes to simply stand and listen to the performer. Buskers, you believe they're called, playing for voluntary donations in public settings.Â
The busker offers an appreciative grin, playing on smoothly without pausing the performance for even a moment as they bob their head in thanks for your compliment.Â
âCertainly is, mesh'la.â Fives agrees. He dips a hand into one of his pockets, and adds a couple of credits to the pile in the instrument case. As a way of thanks, the song that was currently being played is masterfully morphed into one of the more familiar military anthems of the Republic, just for a moment.Â
The performer, a young-looking Twi'lek, has of course recognized that Fives is a Clone, and is hoping to acknowledge what the Republic has done for Ryloth in some small way by playing something a soldier would recognize. Fives is equal parts flattered and amused, even if he himself may never have gone to Ryloth, that he's being thanked and acknowledged like this.Â
âHeh. You're welcome, kid.âÂ
Putting his free arm around you as you decide to listen to the hallikset a little longer, you and Fives listen to the best recognized music forms of Ryloth start up from the instrument as further homage. You lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, leaning into his side a little deeper with a placid smile, drinking in this moment.Â
Close to an hour later, when more yarn for Hardcase, a few decorative knick knacks for your apartment, and some novelty sweets have ended up among your purchases, someoneâs stomach rumbles in complaint shortly before the time you would typically consider having lunch. Luckily Echo has offered to help you locate something by sending you a file to a map of the market with all consumables stalls highlighted and labeled after checking in on how things are going for you and Fives.Â
While Fives quickly speaks with his brother and squadmate, you check the weather. Steadily, itâs only gotten colder, and in efforts to keep you warmer, Fives has sweetly given up his thick-knit hat for the time being until you come across another stall that offers cold-weather wear. There, heâll find another hat for himself, suggesting you keep his. The fluffy curls of his clone-standard crew cut have been flattened a bit by the hat, amusingly. As a sweet gesture, you try to fix up his hair for him while listening to what Echo has to say.
 Force willing, as itâs only becoming more and more likely that it'll rain, that will be after you grab a quick bite to eat.Â
(Pantoran food sounds good right about now.)
âMe? Oh, all was quiet on the homefront - busy playing a strategy game against Rex. Until we got ambushed by a couple of giggling womp rats.â
Fives grins like a nexu. âBrothersâ kids or the Generalâs?â
âTupâs little boys,â Echo answers jovially between peals of bubbling laughter in the background, âthings are getting a bit rowdy here, so you two better go. Enjoy your lunch and the rest of the market; Iâll tell everyone you both said hi.âÂ
âThanks Echo.â
âWeâll talk later, Echo.â you promise. âAlso, Iâm keeping your brother all to myself tonight.â Echoâs laugh promises thatâs fine by him. He trusts youâll take good care of Fives, like he takes good care of you in turn. Heâll pass along the information that everyone will see Fives again the following morning. The Clone with the Aurebesh â5â permanently inked on his right temple can only offer an eager smile.Â
A homemade meal and the promise of staying the night when it wasnât previously discussed? What better way to end a day than that? Fives walks with a spirited spring in his step, just short of tugging you along after him at first before you match his pace and revel in that excitement together.Â
Excitement that quickly turns to surprise with the first of the rain starting to fall over the market. Thereâs a particularly heavy raindrop that lands with an audible spatter on Fivesâ left shoulder. He chuckles, the sound somewhere between an amused âof courseâŠâ and a nervous âuh-ohâ. Heâs patting down his deep pockets for wherever heâs stashed the rain repeller purchased earlier, since it could very well start raining steadily by the time you reach one of the food stalls that peddles any Pantoran cuisine.
âDid you feel that?â he asks, eyes flicking skyward between some of the many imposing, glinting skyscrapers that make up the surface of the ecumenopolis. Itâs a small relief that youâre not quite out in the open, like you would be if the market had taken place in a location like Monument Plaza, at the least. If the rain got intense, fast, Fives could easily squeeze the pair of you into a dry alcove somewhere in the absence of the repeller now in his hands.
âHm? Feel what?â you wonder just before you feel another droplet glance off your own coat. âOh.âÂ
So much for getting lunchâŠ
âItâs starting to rain.â the two of you say at once. And while itâs not quite sleet, it certainly feels close to it every time the stray droplet finds a patch of exposed skin. The idle prattle of buyers and sellers shifts in tone; a few surprised shouts here and there while vendors urgently cover their wares, and a few shoppers brushing past panickedly exclaim that theyâre faced with taking the long way home because of street-closures tied to the event-space.
Thankfully that wonât be the case for you and Fives with the direction you came from your apartment, so long as the dispersing crowds allow.Â
Opening the repeller, Fivers now pulls you closer, trying to fit it over both of you best he can. âHere, meshâla. Wouldnât want you to get cold and wet⊠That wouldnât be a very pleasant combination, now would it?â
âNo,â you agree with a little wag of your head, âbuuuut, heading back to my apartment and calling in an order for delivery sure does.â
Fives brings up an excellent suggestion while you busy yourself with making sure all your purchases are safely in your arms before the pair of you about-face and make for home. âWith a movie to watch, too, right?â Oh Maker, there are so many films you could choose from to watch; thereâs always something new that you learn your beloved hasnât seen, being so wrapped up in the pan-galactic war and its aftermath. Even films you donât particularly care for become tolerable when youâre snuggled on some comfortable two-seater together, your head planted against his chest as he runs his hands through your hair in idle fashion.
Youâre wholeheartedly in support, already impatient to burrow into that large, fluffy blanket with him.
Cupping his face in one hand, you kiss his cheek best you can as you walk, copying his deliberate stride. âThat sounds like a great idea, Fives.â Itâs kind of a shame that the weather put a bit of a damper on how long you had in mind about spending at the market, you add with a soft sigh.
He smiles, encouraging you not to let it get you down. âNot gonna let a little rain ruin my first day of shore leave, so long as I get to spend it with you, ner karâta.â Fives promises, being his sweet, joking self by downplaying the amount of rain. Itâs gotten past âjust a little rainâ at this point in time, with puddles forming atop the duracrete surfaces, some with multi-color veneers to them where the oils previously soaked into the street float to the top.Â
As the freezing rain builds in strength, it patters and trickles off the rain repeller in thick rivulets while Fives holds it over each of your heads - itâs kind of a tight fit underneath, but neither mind. Making sure both of you and your purchases remain relatively dry means itâs a slow, steady march back home. Itâs probably taking you twice as long to get back home than it was to get there. You could be taking some long, convoluted path, and you wouldnât mind a bit with the way Fives has one of his arms so lovingly, kindly wrapped around the small of your back, both to hold you close, and to make sure you hear him when he talks.
âIâve got a few stories to tell from this last deployment, besides âCase breaking his leg.â he starts, a note of mirth in his tone. âBut there was one thing I kept thinking about, more than anything.â Fives adds, the slow cadence suggesting this is important.
Before you permit your mind to race with the possibilities, the many guesses you have, you bob your head, encouraging him to go on.Â
âIâm listening.â
He wastes no time, sure of his words, but maybe not how to say them. âI wanted to ask if maybe nowâs a good time to⊠Yâknow. We might start thinking about a couple of things, now that the warâs over, and things are getting saferâŠ?â You could practically swoon, knowing what heâs trying to tell you. What heâs thought about while heâs been deployed with those whoâve chosen to remain in service to the GAR for just a little longer, aiming to finish the job theyâd been made for.Â
For the Republic. For his brothers.
For you, his heart.
How would you feel about spending the rest of our lives together, cyare?
âSounds like a good conversation to have over dinner.â is all youâll suggest for the time being, bringing his face close once more for another caste kiss with the door of your apartment in sight.Â
If youâd known heâd had this on his mind just a little sooner, or there was no premature rainfall to dampen your plans, maybe you would have suggested taking the long way home after all, just for the fun of it.
Taglist: @msmeredithrose
Taglist form can be found here if you would like to make sure you don't miss a fic in the future. Thank you for your patience, and thanks for reading and requesting. đ©·
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(hi thank you for being understanding about my question and being cool with doing this!) can I ask for headcanons for somethin like movie night with the 501st? Gender neutral reader is fine
Of course babes. đ©· We can do movie night any night with the 501st!
Warnings and Information: Thereâs nothing to do in the barracks tonight, and itâs been a long time since anyoneâs seen a good movie. So, throw in like fifteen packets of popcorn in the microwave (one at a time, Hardcase) to get this popcorn poppinâ, because the 501st + one good friend is having a movie night! (Once mostly everyone agrees on what to watch, of courseâŠ) Blankets, pillows, snacks, and cozy Clone cuddle-piles galore~ Whoâs falling asleep first? đŽ
2nd person POV with an undescribed reader who has a gender neutral nickname. Bullet point format. Weâll use a little Mandoâa, as a treat. Fluff and good feelings all around. Everyoneâs happy. Everyoneâs safe. đ
Word count: 1,652
The previews
Thereâs no paperwork to do, thereâs no assignment they need to ship out for in the morning, and theyâve gone ahead and tidied up the bed racks for good measure. They could play some Sabbac to kill the time, but theyâve either lost or misplaced more than half the deck, and they donât feel like the lights and thumping bass of the local drinking hole tonight. (Itâs just not quite the same as 79âsâŠ) Nobody really has the energy to do much of anything, but given their purpose and training as soldiers, they donât often have nights like this where they simply do⊠nothing. Being idle leaves a gnawing feeling of discomfort for many in the 501st, so theyâre trying to come up with a plan.
âUh-oh. Hardcase has his thinking face on.â someone mumbles, growing slightly uneasy.Â
âI got it. Iâm gonna call someone.â Hardcase declares, punching in one of his favorite contacts on the comlink. This makes the ARC troopers slightly nervous. âNot the Captain, I hope-â Fives chimes in warningly. âWith any luck heâs just gone to the mess.â
Hardcase shakes his head, grinning broadly before he punches ENTER on the device. âNah, Iâm not calling the Captain right now, Iâm callinâ Ember!â
Youâre a favorite of the 501st. At least, thatâs your theory.Â
And through one series of events after the other, you've become well acquainted with them and their antics.
Why else would you possibly need to be commed in the middle of a meal? âDonât answer that.â Captain Rex advises you. You both barely started eating. Itâs not an emergency tone. It can wait. But⊠maybe you should see who it is, first? âUmm⊠Hardcase is calling me.â you reply. That means one of two likely scenarios.
Boredom, or trouble.
Specifically future trouble.
(Or heâs in trouble.)
Youâre at least going to see how urgently you need to scarf down your meal so the Captain has time to enjoy his for once in three blue moons. âHello? What's going on Hardcase?âÂ
âHey little flame, you wanna do something tonight? Weâre bored!â
âDefine boredâŠâ Youâre gonna regret asking that, youâre sure. âAnd whoâs âweâ exactly, Hardcase? How many others are listening?â The jumbled cacophony of names and voices tells you itâs mostly Torrent Company, which you pretty much expected. â... hi Echo and Fives⊠hello Dogma ⊠hey there Tup, Iâm doing okay, thanks⊠yup, just trying to eat a little dinner, KixâŠâÂ
So why exactly did he call you, you ask Hardcase, exchanging wary glances with the cobalt captain. What's going on? "Do you know where we can find a lot of popcorn for a movie night? You and the Captain are invited too of course, little flame!"
Grab your snacksâŠ
The bunkroom has been torn apart by the time you and Captain Rex make your way in from the mess hall, and it smells better than you imagined for military sleeping quarters. Lots of beds are missing mattresses, bedding, and pillows. Except for Dogma's. His is untouched, saved for a slight rumple in the sheets. "Boys, we're here! ⊠Where'd all the stuff go?" You step further into the room, and find all the missing mattresses laid side-by-side on the floor near one end of the room, where everyone's either currently wrangling with the holo-projector, or taking down a few posters from the wall to clear the space that will serve as your "screen". Tup spots the pair of you first. "Oh, good. Captain and Ember are here!"Â
Hardcase is grateful that you found some popcorn for movie night, and that you could come join in for the fun. "There ya are, burc'ya! Just in time to start deciding on a movie!" He offers to get a jump on getting all the popcorn bags popped too, with the promise it's not going to be like last time. Trying to pop more than one bag resulted in a small fire, last time, evidently.Â
Jesse and Kix are scouring over the descent film selection together, sorting them by type or genre. Action. Horror. Family-oriented. There's- how'd this kids movie end up in here? Eh, no thanks on the war films, we see enough of that. "What about a comedy?" you suggest, rifling through the stack to see what your pickings are there. There's a couple you do and don't recognize, and some that are tied to fond memories from before the war. "This is a good one, I think most of you guys will like it. I used to watch this a lot whenever I needed a good laugh, or some cheering up."Â
Everyone agrees to give it a shot at least if that's what you recommend. In any case, it'll be difficult to get everyone to agree on one holo, and more than half of men squeezed around you on this giant raft of mattresses, blankets and pillows will probably fall asleep partway through it anyhow.Â
⊠and enjoy the show!
"C'mon Dogma, come join us!" you urge with a friendly smile, seeing him return to his neatly-made bunk. "There's plenty of room, I'm sure." Tup and Hardcase, slightly sprawled next to you on your left, would need to move a bit to make it happen. Echo and Fives are sitting nearest the projector, their shoulders brushing against one another with every little movement. Jesse has positioned himself nearest the Captain, who is also beside you on your right. "It's okay if you don't, either. Nobody's gonna force you." you add pointedly, just as you feel someone start to pull his legs under him to go drag his brother into the tangle of limbs and bedding. Maybe he's more comfortable on his bunk. Or perhaps he's not interested in a film right now.
The lights are dimmed, the snacks are passed around, and the film begins.Â
You only make it fifteen minutes into the film before there's a casualty: Kix, diligent man that he is to make sure all his brothers are taken care of, falls asleep behind you. "Psst! Kix, can you pass me the- oh nevermind. Ember, could you grab the candy under his arm before it melts?" You carefully wiggle it free and pass it up to Jesse before tucking a loose blanket kicking around over Kix. Generally, once Kix is out, he's out, so the group doesn't have to worry about waking him for a while.Â
Hardcase stays surprisingly still through most of the movie so long as he keeps his hands mostly occupied in some capacity, or has one of his brothers leaning on him in some way. He's a very tactile person, so it's no surprise that he's slowly migrating around the raft of mattresses as each of his brothers either allow Hardcase to fiddle around with stuff he finds in their pockets, or just hold him close in a brotherly embrace for a bit if he's getting too disruptive. (He eventually settles down around the midpoint of the movie, and is one of the few who stays awake through the whole thing.)
Tup pays attention to most of the comedy film, occasionally conversing in whispers with Fives and Echo about their opinions on the jokes until Echo nods off for a bit, and the hushed conversation continues back up again when he wakes up before movie's end. It's Jesse who's not paying much attention to the film, but he's not too disruptive. Jesse almost makes it to the end of the movie before he falls asleep in the middle of scrolling through something on a datapad that's made its way into the nest of pillows and blankets and limbs, his head resting on Captain Rex's knee.Â
Dogma does eventually join everyone on the floor. You suspect he was starting to feel a little left out, or maybe he changed his mind about the offer you made earlier, growing bored of whatever he'd been reading on his datapad, or deciding he'd give the movie a try. He tentatively makes his way over, and asks if he can still sit by you. "Of course, Dogma. Here, I saved some popcorn for you!" You give him the rest of the bowl you'd set aside for him, unable to get up and give it to him yourself since you've got multiple people surrounding you. (You didn't want Dogma to miss out on the snacks just because he wasn't initially watching the movie with everyone.) "Thanks for saving me some, Ember." Captain Rex reaches behind you and gives Dogma a warm pat on the shoulder. "Glad you joined us, brother." There's an unspoken finally in his words, but he's just glad to see that Dogma didn't end up isolating himself for long.Â
You and Captain Rex, being firmly in the middle of the mattress pile, end up being the ones who become the human pillows of the group. It's nice to see all your friends having fun tonight, and be a part of enjoying a movie together. No stiff, uncomfortable armor; everyone's either in their fatigues or their blacks, and draped over and across their friends and brothers. Everyone is content and full of maybe a little too much popcorn and other snacks. You'll have a heck of a mess on your hands to clean up, either in the morning, or when everyone returns their respective mattresses to their bunks tonight, too.
Nights like this are how it should be. Everyone's happy and there are signs of trust everywhere you look. Brothers let their sleeping siblings rest on their shoulders, against their backs, their legs, or under their arms without complaint. There are sleepy smiles and shared blankets. Those who stayed awake until the end are now joking happily with one another and their Captain, and you too.Â
And for a moment, in this night that will become a cherished memory no matter which way this war winds up, everyone you care about is safe.Â
And what could be better than that?
Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. đ©·
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Tide pools aren't for swimming [TBB x GN!Reader]
Warnings and Information: Second-person POV. No serious age rating. It's just sun, surf and seashells as far as the eye can see. Undescribed Reader with a codename. Coming from an ocean world, we're assuming Clones are excellent swimmers. Someone loses his trunks, though. Minor usage of Mando'a. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Not a relationship fic. Minor proofreading.
Word-count: 2,650
"If the Marshal Commander discovers you lot have blown off your reports, I'm not saving your shebs!" you warn the men as they tramp down the gangplank in a collective rush once they've all found something among the armor and fatigues that will do for swimwear in a pinch. They've gotten it in their heads that while you're all planetside and near a coastline, the whole team is going to the beach for the rest of the day.Â
You turn to the only man who's not been carried out of the attack shuttle against his will, since Wrecker only has so many arms and hands. "Except for you, Echo. I trust you'll get your report done for Commander Cody in time, as always."Â
Echo smirks, chest thrown forward with pride. "As always." he repeats. "Aren't you going to go with them, Vantage?"Â
You bounce your shoulders, keying in the appropriate sequence to retract the steps and seal the hatch once you and the ARC trooper make your exit. "Oh, eventually," you say with a laugh. It's a small white-sand beach surrounded by cliffs. "They can't exactly get far, save for one direction." You made it clear to your squadmates from the jump that you did not wish to go swimming, and laid out your reasons in no uncertain terms.Â
"Maker forbid one of you begins to drown, however, I will come to your rescue. But if one of you tries to get cute and throw me into the surf, I will give you a tongue-lashing that will leave your ears ringing until next Taungsday. Do I make myself clear?"Â
"That'd put us at a real DisadvantageâŠ"Â
"Hunter, for kriff's sake-" You had warned him with an edge in your voice that suggested it would not be wise to test your sense of humor by making playful riffs on your alias. They were all smart enough to take the hint supplied by means of a jabbing elbow from the one with goggles and an ever-recording camera attached to them. "Yes, you made yourself clear, Vantage!" Hunter replied hurriedly.Â
Maker, these boys behaved like a fraternity straight out of your academy, some days⊠You did not sign up for that program offered by the academic institution with the intention to be a karking glorified babysitter. Thankfully, they had the sense to perform their duty to the GAR with loyalty and a strong, if improvised, sense for getting the job done.Â
They were troublemakers, no doubt about it. But galaxy and all her stars, they were your troublemakers. The Marshal Commander has gotten close to reassigning you a few times, but you've stood firm.Â
"This is as far as I go!" you reply to Wrecker in yet another reminder that you are not wading up to your waist in frigid sea water just to see if the waves can bowl you over. "I'm not fond of swimming where I cannot confidently make out the bottom. You have fun out there, I'm staying here." You twist and grind your heels in the over-saturated sand in a stubborn display. You are not moving. The waves lapping over your ankles is truly as far as you will venture out into the briney deep.Â
You've seen these men swim before and have the utmost confidence in their ability to navigate the surf. These waves are gentle in comparison to the towering walls of water they've seen from rain-spattered windows looking out of the stilted cloning facility. But it's been drilled into you since you were young that someone needs to watch the water at all times, to never leave someone swimming unattended. The beach offers a decent outcropping in one of the cliffs to serve as a guard tower, almost.Â
"Pardon the play on your name, Vantage, but that outcropping would serve as a, well, excellent vantage point of the ocean." Tech explains a little timidly. "The rock shelf appears stable enough to support even Wrecker."Â
"Hey!"Â
Ignoring Wrecker's offended burst of dismay for a moment, you nod gratefully at Tech. "I wondered. Thank you. But I think I'll have to split my time with Crosshair since our sniper likes to feel tall."Â
"AhemâŠ" Crosshair begins in a low, throaty tone, "might I remind you that I'm 1.93 meters tall, compared to Hunter's measly 1.8."Â
Hunter scoffs, unphased. He's curiously shorter than all, or perhaps most, Clones, but he's never let on that the short jokes bother him in the time you've traveled with them. "Just for that, you're the one who gets to hold Wrecker's hand when he takes his turn on the outcrop."Â
"HEY!!"
You pinch the bridge of your nose and plant a hand on one hip with a deep, wearied sigh. You can hear Echo chuckling further up the beach, saying you look exactly like a disappointed nat-born parent from a holodrama right about now from where he's sitting. You certainly believe him.
Off to northeast on this little beach a few hours later, Wrecker makes a discovery while he takes a break from the waves. The water is cold, so he's soaking up some sun to warm himself. You, on the other hand, are suffering from the opposite problem as it is currently the estimated temperature high of the day. You're half tempted to let Wrecker playfully throw you into the surf as the next wave comes rolling in for a little reprieve, like he's done for Hunter and Crosshair (and Tech, but only once when he got too close).Â
But not tempted enough to voice that idea. Maybe you'll go back to the waterline and soak your feet in a moment.Â
Wrecker makes a request for your attention. "Vantage, look!" You lift your craned neck to meet his eyes upon further beckoning bellows. "These little pits are filled with water, and you can see the bottom! You could come cool off in one of these!"Â The sun directly overhead, Wrecker uses his large hands to shade his eyes and most of his face rather than amplify his voice so he can squint further up the beach with less discomfort.Â
"What pits?" Crosshair demands, doing a worse job of masking his confusion than you.Â
Wrecker points emphatically, spirit hardly dampered by the annoyance his brother levies his way. "These pit-things!"Â
You decide to see what the fuss is about. Tech trekked back into the Havoc Marauder to relieve himself and no doubt send his report to Cody, so he can't get to the bottom of what Wrecker's discovered for the foreseeable future. While he's far from stupid, Wrecker has a minor form of aphasia as a result of the accident that gave him the scrawling scar and cybernetic eye on the left side of his head. In your time working with them, you find Wrecker has trouble finding the right words to express himself in moments of extreme excitement or exhaustion, on occasion.Â
You skip across the sand, halfway through your question when you find a delightful surprise. "What's thes- Oh, tide pools!" you exclaim. "Hey, boys! Wrecker found some tide pools over here!" These are indeed shallow enough that you can see the silty surface of the bottom, but with one glance into the tidal pool, you can pinpoint at least three delicate forms of aquatic life.Â
Admittedly, the only reason you know such a thing is in thanks to either a friend or a family member of yours, though you don't recall who off the top of your head.Â
Once Tech's joined the ranks around the oceanic pocket, he's excitedly prattling on in his amazement. "Incredible, those are some beautiful sea star specimens!" Crosshair sarcastically remarks he's peeled more interesting things in similar colors from the bottom of his boots, but Tech pays him no mind. "Juveniles, no less! This stage of their life cycle is seldomly documented, so this is an incredible opportunity for scientific contribution."Â
"Which means we shouldn't swim in these tide pools, Wrecker," you explain delicately; you hate to deflate his sense of excitement, "leaving them undisturbed will give our starry friends the best chance to develop into healthy, strong adults. Besides, there's a species of red sea urchin at the bottom, if you look right there, that you don't exactly want to get close enough to risk stepping on them. Take my word for it when I say it stings like a mother-kriffer. Not even good bacta can touch the pain, for the most part."Â
You're given a very fascinated look by the bespectacled Clone of the rogue squadron, having surprised him with an instance of your "quiet intelligence". Tech looks like a gulping fish as he tries to find the right words to express his sentiment, and you can't help but laugh. "Tech, take your time to think of your words before one of your brothers mistakes you for a fish and throws you back in the waves again."Â
He adjusts his goggles in the meantime. "I was unaware you - at least seem to - know so much about these things." It comes across like an insult, or a backhanded compliment, but you know better than that. These are your troublemakers when they're not in Commander Cody's capable hands. You've gotten to know them well, and you take no offense. You only offer a cheeky grin.
"Heh. Someone I know from back home knows their stuff. I've heard a lot about tide pools in my life."Â
A look of understanding dawns on him. "I see. Well, yes, you are right, Vantage. Tempting as it is, it will be best not to swim in these tidal pools. Or, perhaps not this one. Maybe one of the others will have less developmentally fragile sealife."Â
Luck is not in your favor on this fine afternoon, as it would happen. Most of these 'pocket-sized oceans' teem with young and larval lifeforms that call the ocean home. They seem to serve as saltwater nurseries. Tiny crabs. Delicate polyps. Even beautiful, silky jellyfish have made themselves home in some of the deepest pools (mercifully, these do not have the capacity for the excruciating sting of other species).Â
"That's disgusting," you groan, shaking your head at one of the men clad in nothing but a pair of crudely-cut swim shorts that were fashioned from a spare pair of their casual fatigues, "peeing on your brother's leg like a kriffing massiff won't help a jellyfish sting! Where in the galaxy did you hear such a thing?"Â
"Kamino." Crosshair tells you with a face that would put professional Sabacc players to shame.Â
"Of course you did. That's on me, I should have remembered that you were all created on Kamino, a damn ocean world. Did someone tell you that as a cadet?"Â
"You want an answer to that, Vantage?"Â
You need to quit while you're ahead before you find yourself subjected to more potentially juvenile behavior. "Not particularly, no." You dust off your knees after kneeling over the edge of this particular tide pool, mentally wishing the little jellyfish good-bye. Wrecker's idea of taking a quick dip in a tidal pool hadn't been a bad one, but you weren't counting on Tech finding any 'vacant' enough for a dip to cool off by this point. "I'm gonna go sit in the shade for a bit. Echo, scoot over!"Â
He scowls, playfully calling back that you need to find your own palm tree to plop under, while making room for you all the same. From here, you can watch Crosshair and Hunter wrestle and grapple with one another in the tide, and keep your eye on Wrecker as he tries to float on his back a little further out. Tech remains on the beach, babbling to himself as he inspects each of these tide pools in depth.Â
"We're going to be hearing about sea stars for hours⊠aren't we?" Echo mutters, but there's a warm and gentle smile that contrasts the weariness of his tone, "Which is going to drive them nuts while they try to rush their reports to Commander Cody."
"Don't worry," you tell him, "I can keep him occupied in the cockpit while you make sure the other three get their reports sorted out."Â
"Gotta say, having you on the team is a real advantage sometimes."Â
There's commotion down in the water that interrupts your train of thought about asking Echo if he's making fun of your codename, and you fear the worst. Drowning is a silent affair, and two of his brothers are suddenly shouting Hunter's name with mild concern. You kept your eyes off the water for too long, you shouldn't have assumed that the three out in the water could keep an adequate eye on each other. You don't see the curled brown hair and the slip of crimson fabric that serves as a bandana among the three bronze-skinned figures who were playing in the surf.
Wrecker and Crosshair do not seem all that panicked, to your fear and your fury. "Where's Hunter?!"Â
He surfaces soon after, but he curiously does not stand fully upright in the water. You soon know why when someone's swim trunks find themselves washed ashore with the next wave.
"Oh, there they are. Here, toss them out to me, Vantage!" Hunter does not seem the least bit embarrassed that he's gone from clad in nothing but a pair of swim trunks to clad in nothing at all after a particularly strong wave must have tugged them free from his hips.Â
You staunchly refuse to touch the trunks, pointedly turning around to avoid getting an eyeful of anything below the belt as Hunter drags himself out of the waves. "Get them yourself, Hunter! Oh Maker, I'm going back to the Marauder. I've had enough."Â
"Nice going, Hunter." Cross says, slugging his shoulder. "You scared Vantage away."
"I promise I tied them; not like I did that on purpose." You can almost hear the bounce of his shoulders in Hunter's voice as he brushes off the accusation. "C'mon, Van!" Wrecker calls to you from the water. "Don't leave!" He's stopped by both Cross and Hunter from exiting the ocean and chasing you up the beach, warning him that if you're not already in no mood for further oisk right now, you certainly will be if he tries to stop you while he's soaking wet with sea water.
"I'm going to the ship to get towels for everyone," you tell Echo as you trudge further up the beach, glancing at the chrono on your wrist. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I'm gonna see if I can't convince Commander Cody to extend the deadline by another dayâŠ"Â
Echo gives you an understanding bob of his head despite the expression of confusion. "How come?"Â
"Oh, I don't knowâŠ" you sigh wistfully as you turn back and look at the water, where to your surprise, Tech has been roped into a game of water-chicken and is now perching himself on Crosshair's shoulders to wrestle with Hunter atop Wrecker's, "something tells me those reports won't get done tonight. They're having too much fun. You should too, Echo."Â
He shrugs, looking uncertain. "Don't know that seawater would be good for my cybernetics. Sand is one thing, I have plenty of practice cleaning that out." You offer to ask the Marshal Commander for answers as you put in the request for an extension. You're certain he can get in touch with Captain Rex or General Skywalker to outsource an answer for you since you don't have their comm frequencies. "Thanks, Vantage. Still not gonna go swimming yourself, though?"Â
Echo's given a smile and shrug. "Oh⊠I might change my mind and at least venture out a little further." You start making your way back to the heavily modified Omicron-class shuttle with a smirk tugging your lips into place to compliment your mischievous tone. "But no promises."Â
[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]
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i brought you a wallpapers with two brothers who are too stubborn not to quarrel for five minutes. <Đ·
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