#rex maintaining eye contact

[clonehub]

One day Anakin sees a clone just walking about somewhere unexpected and he taps rex and he's like "haha that guy looks familiar" and rex is like "so you think all clones look the same" and Anakins instantly filled with fear

[dragon-ascent]

Zhongli is great at providing you comfort - and even more so when he's in his dragon form.

It only takes one sigh from you for him to coil up around you like a giant snake. Instead of eating you like a serpent would, though, he nuzzles you gently. Sometimes his mane ends up tickling you, eliciting a few giggles. When that happens, your long husband chuckles as well, licking you lovingly.

Sometimes, he rests his big ol' head on your lap, maintaining unwavering eye contact with you. Gazing into those lustrous eyes of his is nearly trance-like; coupled with his deep, steady humming, it's therapeutic. You might not want to talk about what's distressing you just yet, but he will at least be here for you while you let the emotions stew.

When you're more stressed than sorrowful, Zhongli shrinks into his miniature form and plops his fluffy little body onto your lap, his rhythmic kitty-like purring soothing you instantly. He'd start kneading your thighs with his soft paws, still purring as he does so.

If he thinks you need a little more than his biscuit-making, he pads across the room and brings you your favorite Rex Lapis exuvia plushie in his mouth for you to squeeze to your heart's content. While you do that, your tiny dragon husband focuses on curling up around your neck like the warmest of scarves, licking your ear between more gentle purrs — maybe some reassuring headbutts as well. He can stay like this as long as he needs to.

(The moment you finally crack a smile, his tail starts wagging like crazy.)

[stellarbit]

Shifting Loyalties

No warnings. 2.3k words

You're a dropout Jedi who left with Echo to join the Bad Batch. You and The Batch are assigned to work with the 501st. The Batch get a bit spicy about how friendly you are with the regs.

Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect

First attempt at the boys but bro I had so much fun with this. I'm definitely going to be doin more cause it gave me ideas for days. Enjoyyyyy

The Marauder's landing ramp wasn't halfway extended, and your foot tapped with anticipation. Spotting the 501st squadron as you descended, they stood in a group, not in formation, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Working with the Bad Batch was a thrill, but you couldn't deny missing your first squad.

When Echo departed, Hunter extended you the same offer to join the Bad Batch. As a Jedi dropout, you no longer belonged on Coruscant or in the Order. Your path diverged, but that didn't mean you didn't occasionally yearn for your old teammates.

Before it was fully safe to exit, you hurled yourself out of the ship, dashing toward the awaiting clones. The Batch were momentarily stunned; even Tech tore his eyes away from his datapad at your sudden outburst.

"Shorty!" Fives exclaimed as you barrelled into his arms, spinning you around before settling you among your old squad.

"Shorty?" Crosshair sneered, visibly annoyed by what he was seeing. You darted between the regs, embracing each one, sometimes two at a time.

You meshed well with the Batch, but they weren't the touchy-feely type. Consequently, you lacked the courage to breach physical boundaries, especially considering how often you seemed to get under their skin. After your fallout with the Order, you couldn't risk facing any more rejection.

As the Batch followed after you, Wrecker swiveled his head toward his brothers, clearly confused. "Wha- what's going on?" He scratched his head, gesturing in your direction. "What's all that about?" He referred to your playful antics with the group of regs, laughing and roughhousing like a child.

You weren't cold toward them; in fact, you engaged in comfortable teasing. However, you maintained a professional distance, refraining from physical contact, let alone running into their arms.

Echo shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he reminisced about his former life. "She's just saying hi," he explained. "She served with the 501st for a long time, even before I was taken to Skako Minor." Nostalgia washed over him at the sight of you standing with his 501st brothers - just like old times.

Hunter blinked in astonishment. "That's normal for her?" He had never witnessed you so carefree and jovial before.

Tech tucked his datapad away, adjusting his goggles as he observed the scene. "By their reactions, this doesn't seem abnormal for her. Why this is the first time we're witnessing it, I'm uncertain." He turned to Echo. "Have you seen this behavior before?"

"Sure, but you're all overthinking it," Echo replied, realizing the tension building among his brothers. "She's just comfortable with them." He regretted the last sentence immediately, sensing their egos regarding regular clones turning this joyful reunion into an unspoken competition.

"If she's so comfortable with them," Crosshair spat, "Maybe she should go back to her precious regs." It was exactly the response Echo feared.

The group watched as you responded to Jesse's teasing with a flirtatious elbow, then stumbled slightly into Rex, who steadied you with a hand on your shoulder.

"It's good to see you. Keeping Echo out of trouble?" Rex smiled down at you, then glanced at Echo standing among the Batch. His smile faded upon noticing Clone Force 99 in various stages of glowering. He patted your shoulder. "Uh… why don't you find General Skywalker while I brief the rest of your squad?"

Without a glance back at the Batch, you followed the order. Anakin briefed you on the mission before easing into conversation. "How are you holding up?" He leaned against a crate of supplies.

"It was hard at first, but I feel…" You paused, feeling a warmth spreading over your chest, grateful it rarely reached your cheeks. "At home with the Batch." You couldn't suppress the smile the thought of the Batch brought you. They made your life exciting, and you felt safe fighting alongside them.

Anakin hadn't missed the looks Clone Force 99 threw your way, especially the nastier ones aimed at the clones you hugged. "I'm glad to hear that, Short Stuff." When Hunter and Wrecker glanced over at the two of you with something like disdain, Anakin smirked. Oh, this is too easy. He leaned down just enough so that your face eclipsed his, just out of sight of the Batchers. "Though, it looks like your new crew isn't too happy with you."

You jerked back, incredulous. "Excuse me?" By the time you whipped around, the Batch were already to the Marauder. Everything seemed normal. You shoved Anakin back. "Kriff off, Skywalker."

Anakin raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Anyway, it looks like it's time for you to rejoin your squad. Good luck."

"Pfft, good luck?" You pulled a face and cracked your neck. "I don't need luck on missions." You may have missed the Jedi General, but you did not miss his arrogant humor.

Anakin smirked as you headed back out and out of earshot. "It wasn't for the mission."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the ship, the atmosphere shifted when you returned. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered about on various tasks, their sudden silence and exchanged glances going unnoticed by you as you busied yourself with pulling out sleeping supplies. There was no way you were missing a chance to sleep off the ship.

Sat cleaning his gun, Crosshair’s eyes bore into your back. It didn’t take Hunter’s senses for you to feel his glare. Still packing, you said over your shoulder, “What is it, Crosshair?”

“Oh, nothing,” Crosshair sneered, leaning forward. “Just didn’t realize you missed your regs so much.”

“And why wouldn’t I miss them?” You snorted, not realizing that earned you an even nastier look from the white-haired clone. “Some people have friends, Crosshair. What’s wrong with that?”

Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what's wrong with that? Some of us actually have friends, you know."

Tech, engrossed in a control panel, interjected, "He's not questioning your friendships. He's just pointing out the obvious preference you seem to have for your old squadmates."

Your hands stilled, and you turned to face them, sensing an underlying tension in the air. "What's going on here?"

Wrecker shuffled awkwardly, his expression troubled. "We just thought you were happier with us."

"I am happy!" you exclaimed. "But it's natural to be excited to see old friends, isn't it?"

When Wrecker’s defeated look didn’t change you looked to Hunter, the sensible brother, for relief. Instead, he had his arms crossed and eyes fixed away from you.

They can’t be serious. You started to turn to Echo when Crosshair abruptly got up, setting his gun aside, and loomed over you within a second.

“Don’t look at Echo to save you,” Crosshair growled, his voice low and menacing. As Crosshair rose from his seat, his eyes narrowed at you. "You seem a little too cozy with them for just 'old friends.'" You tried to step away, but found yourself backed against the counter behind you.

“Cross,” Hunter warned, but his brother didn’t heed the caution, slamming a hand on the shelf a few inches from your face.

The close proximity allowed you to catch Crosshair's scent—gun oil and mint—a combination you'd never been so close to before. It left you breathless, barely able to formulate a response. Crosshair raked his eyes over you as he idly lolled a toothpick around his mouth. He leaned in close. “Why so shy now, Shorty?” he taunted, his voice dropping even lower.

Despite the shiver you felt at the nickname rolling off Crosshair’s tongue, ignored the jibe. “What’s your problem with ‘Shorty’?” you bit back, unwilling to back down.

Tech swiftly wedged himself between you and Crosshair, his tone firm but diplomatic. "Let's not act like children here." Placing a hand on your chest and the other on Crosshair's shoulder, he continued, "Although 'Shorty' might not be the most accurate nickname. If you prefer something else-"

His voice trailed off as he noticed the flush creeping up your chest and spreading to your cheeks and ears. Tech's wide eyes darted between your face and his hand, realizing the unintended intimacy of his touch. "Oh," he stammered, but didn’t pull back his hand. "I-I apologize."

Feeling the weight of their collective stares, you squirmed uncomfortably, yearning for some space to breathe. Tech's touch, coupled with Crosshair's taunting sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you, rendering you speechless. It seemed like every part of you was reacting, including that one lower part that seemed to have a mind of its own.

Before the tension could escalate further, Echo chimed in with an observation. "Well, I've never seen that before."

Returning to reality, you brushed Tech's hand away and swiftly grabbed your sleeping gear, attempting to regain your composure. "You're all acting like a bunch of-"

"It looks like our sarad is finally blossoming," Crosshair mocked, his voice laced with amusement.

Unable to take another word from him, you shoved past Tech to lunge on Crosshair, whose scowl was now a shit eating smirk. “I’ll wipe that smug-”

Hunter jumped in to hold you back. “Back off, Cross.” You were still grabbing for Crosshair when Hunter’s firm grip on your waist registered with you. You stiffened as Hunter detangled your arms from his shoulder and pulled you aside. He turned to you and surprised you by gently cupped your cheek. “Listen, we’re not trying to upset you.”

You were too aware of all the places your bodies had just touched - where his hands had been. It was all too much and with his hand on your face you simply couldn’t move.

The unexpected closeness and the warmth of his touch left you momentarily stunned, struggling to process the flood of sensations. With an effort to maintain your composure, you pulled away from Hunter's touch, grabbing your gear tightly. But before you could make your escape, Wrecker wrapped you in his arms and wrung you off your feet. “Aw, don’t be mad, we were just worried!” All you could focus on was the size of his hands and how nice his arms felt. When he dropped you, you just stood hunched over with a death grip on your sleeping pack.

The way you just stood at the mouth of the ship wide eyed and huffing, you probably looked like a deranged blurg. You felt deranged. In mere minutes you’d gone from composed to weak kneed simply from a few touches and teases. Being the center of their attention in those minutes had lit something in you that was quickly getting out of control. You still couldn’t manage words when you took off down the Marauder’s ramp.

At once Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech looked back at Echo. Echo echoed the collective astonishment, his tone tinged with bewilderment. "I've never seen her act like that before."

Tech, ever the analyzer, observed the physical signs of your distress with keen interest. He looked down at the hand he'd placed on your chest. "Her heart rate and temperature were elevated," he noted, his analytical nature kicking in. "Her coloring was..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...unexpectedly vibrant." Tech was quick to record his observations, whether mentally or digitally, finding your behavior to be a fascinating new discovery.

"Intriguing," Tech mused, adjusting his glasses with a confident shrug. "Her conduct with us doesn't align with her interactions with her former squadron. This divergence suggests a remarkably positive correlation." His conclusion was delivered with a note of excitement, indicative of his realization of the significance of your reaction. "And I am seldom wrong."

Each member of the Bad Batch absorbed Tech's assessment in their own way, contemplating the implications of your behavior.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When it was time to part ways with the 501st, you made your good-byes. The Batch weren’t much for good-byes, aside from Echo giving an extra farewell to Rex, they watched on from the mouth of the Marauder. You didn’t know when, or if, you’d see them again so you were saying good-bye to each clone.

Jesse sauntered over to the Batch as you engaged in one last round of roughhousing with Fives. He glanced at you, then at the Batch. An obvious jab that didn't fail to elicit a snarl from Crosshair. “Looks like she's clinging to her ‘regs’ a bit too tightly,” he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled mockery. Crosshair's lip curled in response, a silent warning brewing beneath his steely exterior. “Maybe it's time she remembers where she belongs.”

“Ay! Sarad!” Wrecker’s voice boomed out suddenly, your head immediately snapping to attention. “You comin’ or what?”

Tech, with a slight adjustment to his goggles, couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your embarrassment—the faint flush creeping up your cheeks, the nervous smile that flickered across your lips. It was a sight that stirred something in his usually analytical mind. “Looks like she's right where she belongs,” he remarked softly, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.

Jesse let out a huff of resignation. “I suppose so. Just make sure you take care of her,” he muttered before slipping away.

As Wrecker slung his arm around your shoulders, nearly toppling you over, you hesitated for a moment. But instead of pulling away, you returned the gesture with a small hip bump, a silent olive branch. This is really going to take some getting used to.

Hunter, helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward. “If you ever decide you want to go back to the 501st... we'd understand,” he offered, his tone tinged with sincerity.

You shook your head with a laugh, stepping out of Wrecker’s embrace. Playfully knocking an elbow into Hunter’s side, you grinned. “You think I’d trade you guys for the 501st? Not a chance,” you replied, your words carrying a hint of affection.

“Oh, spare us the sentimentality,” Crosshair interjected dryly, though the faint twitch of his lip betrayed a hint of amusement.

As you stood among the Batch, you laughed to yourself. This is going to be fun.

[nahoney22]

Congrats on 3k followers! Can I pls request the bad batch reacting to reader telling them they love them for the first time? Can be angsty or fluffy whatever you’d like! Female or GN reader preferred. Thanks! Love your stuff 💜

I Love You

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

warnings/spoilers: first ‘I love yous’ fluff and some parts (echos and crosshairs) angsty. Some kisses and flirting, brief mentions of the empire. Heartache. Cussing.

authors note: thanks for the kind words. Hope this is okay. Naturally, I wrote the most for Tech 🤍

Echo

Echo stood across from you, his expression heavy with the weight of his decision. He had just revealed his plan to join Rex in assisting the other clones, and though you understood and supported his noble intentions, a pang of selfishness gripped your heart. You couldn't bear the thought of him leaving.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" you asked, your voice trembling as you struggled to maintain composure. The mere sight of him stirred a storm of emotions within you. How could one man have such an effect on you?

"However long it takes," he replied, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and concern, as he noticed the sadness in your eyes.

You let out a sigh, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Gathering your courage, you finally raised your gaze to meet his, allowing the floodgates of your emotions to open. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you managed a bittersweet smile, fidgeting with your fingers, the urge to reach out and touch him almost unbearable. Yet, you remained rooted in place.

"Please don't be upset," he whispered, taking a tentative step closer. But you found yourself instinctively stepping back, the fear of vulnerability creeping in.

"I'm not... I'm proud of you, Echo," you sniffed, your voice quivering. "And I love you. I love you so, so much. So, don't you dare... don't you dare die out there." The confession slipped from your lips before you could fully comprehend the magnitude of your words. The intensity of your emotions clearly have overwhelmed you.

As you turn around and start to walk back to the Marauder, refusing to let Echo see you cry over him or even give him enough time to reject you, you hear the sound of running steps. With a grip on your arm and a firm spin, your lips are met with his. Desperate. Loving.

“I love you too. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

Hunter

The storm raged on, its relentless fury battering your weary bodies as you find refuge in a desolate cave. The bone-chilling cold seeped through every layer of clothing, but you found solace in the fact that Hunter was by your side.

"We're stuck here until the storm subsides, I can’t make contact with the others." Hunter's voice cut through the howling wind, his breath visible in the frigid air. He sat down beside you as you sheltered yourself from the wind behind a large boulder. He rubbed his gloved hands together for warmth.

“Fantastic.” You can’t help but shiver but the sarcasm pierces through. You sigh, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself to seek any source of heat. Sensing your discomfort, Hunter pulled you closer, his strong arm enveloping you in a protective embrace. His touch brought a momentary respite from the biting cold and you couldn’t help but start to think about your feelings.

These feelings? They’ve been steadily growing, and the scary situation intensified the urgency within you. With the freezing temperatures numbing your senses, the words slipped out before you could fully comprehend their weight.

"Hunter, if we don't make it out of this... just know that I love you," you confessed, your voice barely audible over the storm.

He stills and this time not because of the cold. In fact, a great heat washes over him as his heart warms at your words. He looks down at you, smiling softly and chuckling. “We’re going to be okay, sweet. But, I… I love you too.”

If it weren’t for the storm you would have happily turned around and kissed him but there’s a time and a place and sadly, now is not the time. Sometimes, words are better than actions in times like this.

Wrecker

As you found yourself in the company of Wrecker, the time to relax was always a treat. Despite his loud and boisterous demeanor, there was a calmer side to him that revealed itself when you were alone together. It was a side that made you appreciate him even more although you adored how he was usually.

Just the two of you, both of you were enjoying a peaceful picnic, indulging in good food and engaging in good conversation. With missions piling up and a reasonable paycheck, you both decided to savor a meal that was actually edible for a change.

“This is nice,” Taking a moment to appreciate the serene atmosphere, you smiled as the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow upon the surroundings. The truth was, you had strong feelings for Wrecker. While playful flirting was a regular occurrence between you two, there was a part of you that yearned for something more, and you couldn't help but sense that he felt the same way.

"Yeah, it is," Wrecker responded, his warm smile directed not at the setting sun but at you. His gaze bore into your soul, causing a blush to bloom on your cheeks. Unable to contain your amusement, you laughed softly and turned your attention towards him.

"You're not too bad yourself, Wreck'," you playfully smirked, earning a hearty chuckle in response.

“I love it when ya flirt with me," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with both amusement and adoration.

His admission sent delightful shivers down your spine, emboldening you to share your own feelings. "Yeah? You know what I love?"

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity evident. "Go on."

You moistened your lips, preparing to bare your heart and locking your gaze with his. "You."

For a brief moment, his smile faltered, his ears flushing with heat, and his eyes widened in surprise. "You love me?"

"Of course. I love you, Wrecker," you confessed with absolute certainty.

He scooted closer, his large hand cupping your cheek making you sigh happily as you knew what was to come. He brought your lips to his in a tender and passionate kiss, tender lips melting and dancing together perfectly. "I love ya too," he chuckled, his happiness radiating through his words. It was the perfect ending to a lovely day.

Tech

"I have found a way to help you release endorphins," Tech's words caught you off guard, causing you to halt and spin around in your seat to face him as he approached.

Confusion etched across your face as you awaited an explanation. "What are you on about?"

"I have noticed a significant shift in your demeanor lately. Even though I've made adjustments to the ship to make it more comfortable for you, it doesn't seem to improve your mood," Tech explained in his usual matter-of-fact tone. Your puzzled expression shifted to a mix of surprise and realisation. You had noticed subtle changes in the Marauder, such as the temperature, cleanliness, and even lighting, but you hadn't realised Tech was doing it all for you.

Speechless for a moment, you were compelled to ask for more details. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Dancing," Tech replied, his words punctuated with a touch of earnestness.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at the unexpected suggestion. "Please don't tell me you've booked dance lessons for me somewhere. I really don't want to go through that," you joked, but there was a hint of seriousness in your tone, hoping it wasn't the case.

A small smile curved on Tech's lips as he reassured you, "You'll be pleased to know that is not what I had in mind. I was actually hoping you would allow me to dance with you. Slow dancing, to be precise."

The laughter subsided, replaced by a mixture of surprise and warmth. Your eyes met Tech's, and a rush of emotions flooded your heart. Slow dancing with him sounded incredibly intimate and personal—a gesture that spoke about the feelings you had for him. Perhaps he felt something too?

A smile played at the corners of your lips as you nodded, accepting his offer. "I'd love to dance with you, Tech."

“Follow me.” Tech's abrupt instruction to follow him caught you off guard, but you complied without hesitation. The two of you stepped outside the ship, finding a more spacious area where you could move freely. Fortunately, the rest of the team was occupied elsewhere, giving you privacy.

Coming to a stop, Tech turned towards you, closing the distance between you. Your heart raced as he took your hand in his, his other hand gently resting on your waist. Together, you began to sway, finding a rhythm that was uniquely your own. There was no music playing, but your heartbeat would drown out all sounds anyway.

After a few minutes, Tech's voice, laced with timidity, broke the silence. "Is this making you happy?"

You couldn't help but hum in adoration, nodding in response. "It's nice, yeah. But you don't have to go to such lengths for me. I'll be fine. I'm just missing Echo... and Crosshair."

Tech nodded, understanding the complexities of your emotions. "I understand. I miss them too, but it was their decision to leave, and we have to respect that. As for making you happier, it's something I genuinely want to do. It benefits both of us, and... it's an intimacy I feel comfortable sharing only with you."

His words melted your heart, intensifying the feelings you held for him. Unable to hold back any longer, you paused your movement, causing Tech to look at you with slight alarm. But he hadn't said anything wrong. Not at all.

Slowly, you leaned in, placing a tender kiss on his lips. He froze, his eyes widening behind his goggles. "I love you, Tech," you whispered against his lips, pulling back slightly to gauge his reaction. The vulnerability in your words hung in the air, awaiting his response.

A smile, soft and beautiful, spread across Tech's face in response to your heartfelt confession. His eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and vulnerability. "I harbor the same feelings for you too," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "It's a new sensation for me, but one that I wholeheartedly want to explore and share with you."

Crosshair

Seeing Crosshair standing before you felt like encountering a ghost from the past. He had been gone for so long, and now he stood on your doorstep, his presence both bewildering and overwhelming. Your voice was hoarse as you struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. "Crosshair... what are you...? Why are you here?"

He remained silent, his eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and anger, but not directed at you. It seemed he carried a weight of emotions towards everything else, a burden he bore heavily. His head bowed, almost as if he were ashamed, realising the audacity of just showing up after months, almost a year, of absence without a word.

His silence only fueled your anger and bitterness. "Answer me," you insisted, your voice tinged with frustration.

"I didn’t know where else to go," Crosshair finally replied, his voice filled with a sense of resignation. It was a simple admission, revealing a vulnerability that you hadn't seen in him before. It struck a chord within you, evoking a mix of compassion and concern.

As you step aside, allowing Crosshair to enter your home, a heavy silence fills the air, adding to the already palpable tension. He remains quiet, a familiar trait that isn't entirely surprising, but this time, it carries a weight of its own.

The tension becomes suffocating, and you can feel your stomach churn with unease. Crosshair stands still, his gaze fixed on the window, his back turned to you. The tears sting your eyes, and a lump forms in your throat. The frustration and hurt bubble up within you, demanding to be released.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through?" you ask, your voice quivering with emotion. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for even a single word from you?" Your temper rises, fueled by the so long of uncertainty and longing. You knew where he had gone, whom he had chosen to serve.

Once again, Crosshair's head dips, his shoulders tense, but this time, he turns to look at you fully. His gaze meets yours, and you can sense a glimmer of remorse and understanding. "I can imagine what you feel," he responds quietly.

"No," you shake your head dismissively, your voice thick with emotion, "no, you can't. Not for a second."

He would typically retort with a sharp remark, but this time, he remains silent, allowing you to unload the weight of your emotions.

"Do you know what it's like?" you continue, your voice trembling. "To love someone only to have them do the most awful, horrible thing you could imagine?" He freezes at your words, his eyes locked with yours, his breath caught in his throat. Your admission of love burns within his chest, searing with a mix of pain and longing.

"Yeah, that's right," you laugh almost bitterly, a tinge of sadness lacing your voice. "I loved you. I loved you! How dare you, Crosshair!”

“Even after Hunter told me they tried to bring you back, you left them again! You left me again! I loved you, and I still do. Damn you!" Your anger turns inward, and you abruptly turn away from him, clutching your chest as if trying to contain the ache that feels like your heartstrings are snapping, determined to rip your heart out and throw it at him, only for him to trample on it once more.

You hear him approach and very gently, he places a hand to your shoulder. “I’m not going to ask you for your forgiveness, I don’t deserve it.” He whispers, voice low and dark. “But just know I have loved you every minute. Of every day.”

You don’t know where this was going to lead but for now, you found some kind of twisted solace in his words. It was going to take a long time to rebuild something that had broken.

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka a @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari i @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @crystal076 @blustalker @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

[zoeykallus]

Hiii Love you are amazing you know that right?🤩🤩

Can I maybe request one with the Reader being a Jedi and traveling with The Batch and she want‘s to learn how to shoot a Blaster and they do teach her but because of mutual attraction it is very hard to focus for both of them. (Maybe even with Rex?)

Aloha!

Didn't I do something similar to this in a way? But it was with a none Jedi fem reader, I think.

It's not exactly what you asked for, because in my head it didn't work out the way I wanted it too, so I played with a few ideaas. But I hope it's close enough.

The Bad Batch/Rex x Fem!Jedi!Reader HCs - Teach Me

Mostly Fluff

_________

Hunter

"We learn to deflect blaster shots," you say, easily deflecting a shot from the training droid, with your lightsaber at a dummy, "But we don't usually learn to do any shooting ourselves."

Hunter offers, "I could show you."

You smile, deflect another shot and say, "That doesn't mean I don't know how to do it"

The sergeant shrugs.

"Then show me what you can do."

You shut down the droid, put away your lightsaber, and walk over to him. With a small smirk, you stand in front of him. In the Force, you can sense that there is a certain excitement beneath his surface, but you can't quite place it at the moment.

"So, Sergeant, what do you want me to do?"

Hunter draws his own blaster and places it in your hand, your fingers touching for a brief moment. The touch feels like a spark, a small electric shock, as if from a static charge. For a second you feel very clearly how intensely Hunter is focused on you, how fast his heart is beating, and your own makes a small, surprising leap.

You need a small moment to collect yourself. You realize that you don't necessarily see him with Jedi eyes, that you see more in him than you should, but until just now you didn't realize it was also the other way around.

You look at the weapon briefly, then open yourself to the Force, turn briefly to the dummies, and fire several quick shots, each shot a bull's-eye.

Looking back at him and seeing the puzzled expression on his face, you ask, "Are you okay?"

"I-yeah, I'm fine. I just thought you never learned how to handle it."

You smirk and remind him, "I also said that doesn't mean I can't."

He nods and says, "Okay, yes I remember, but…. that good?"

"The Force guides my hand. A big advantage on my part," you say, still smirking.

You place the gun back in his hand, again your fingers touch, but this time you maintain contact longer. You take in his feelings, his confusion, how impressed he is, but most of all, the feeling of how much he enjoys this little touch, how much he longs to let his hand move over yours, up your arm to your face. For a moment, you can almost feel him doing it. But Hunter is decent, playing by the rules, even if he doesn't want to here and now. For the moment, it remains a fantasy.

Very slowly, almost languidly, you finally pull your hand back from his. You hear him sigh softly and almost do the same. Your eyes meet, lingering on each other.

With a cautious smile, you ask, "Can you maybe teach me some other things?"

Hunter takes a moment, blinking, finally he smiles gently and says, "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Wrecker

He watches you, as he often does. You feel his gaze on you, his fascination, his admiration for you are so honest, so open and intense that sometimes your heart beats faster. Wrecker adores you, and you can feel that abundantly clear in the Force. But he's a good soldier, a decent man, he would never approach you without being asked, even if it's hard for him not to confess how much you mean to him by now. You sigh softly, take a deep breath, try to clear your thoughts. "What about blasters?" you suddenly hear him ask. You turn to face him. "Blasters?" Wrecker nods, pulls out his blaster and holds it out to you. You put your lightsaber away, step closer, and hesitantly reach for the weapon. You look at him questioningly, feeling that he's just trying to make contact with you, to spend time with you, and you feel flattered, but also nervous. You shouldn't actually like him as much as you do. "You know how to handle that?" You nod. "Yeah, I think so" You demonstrate your skills and Wrecker lets out an impressed whistle. "Is there anything you Jedi can't do?" You laugh softly and say, "There sure is a lot. For example, I barely know anything about explosives, grenades, and mines." He laughs happily, thumps the crate he was leaning against and says, "You've come to the right place! I can teach you anything" "You would do that?" You can feel Wrecker radiating pure joy, joyful anticipation, and the feeling passes over to you, putting a smile on your lips. "Of course. Little Jedi, I'll be happy to teach you everything I know"

You like it when he calls you that, it's so loving and full of affection.

Echo

He can't hide from you what he feels, even if most of the time you can't see it in any way, you feel the devoted longing he feels when he looks at you, thinks about you, it is omnipresent.

To the outside world no one would suspect it, Echo has himself under control, he is calm, reasonable, follows the rules. You've already caught yourself thinking about trying to draw him out.

During training, when he is watching you again more or less secretly, you speak to him. Echo almost falls off the ramp, startled, when you speak to him. He didn't expect you to have spotted him already.

He clears his throat, "Uh, yeah? How can I help?"

You pick up a training blaster and ask him to come closer.

"Would you teach me how to use this properly?"

Echo blinks, not responding immediately. His gaze drifts from your face to the blaster in your hand and back again. He seems puzzled, but he nods amiably and says, "Sure. What exactly do you want to know?"

"Well, anything important in theory," you say with a wry smile.

A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. Echo begins to explain to you how to load and unload the gun, and how to set the various modes, standing close to you, his eyes gazing deeply into yours every now and then. You can feel him looking forward to being useful to you.

"Understood so far?" he finally asks gently.

You nod.

"I think so"

"Maybe you should try it sometime, General".

There it is again, that impersonal word, that formal address. You know he's just doing what's theoretically expected of him, but you wish he'd call you by your name.

"What's the best way to aim?"

Echo stands close behind you, carefully grabs your hand and guides it. He talks, explains, you hear his voice, but the meaning of his words bounces off you, off the feel of his hand on your wrist, his chest against your back.

"General?" he finally asks in amazement.

"Yes?"

"Did you just hear what I said?"

There's a tingle under your skin, you look for an excuse and say as calmly as you can, "I'm sorry, I sensed something in the Force that I can't place, I'm not supposed to let it distract me, but every now, and then it still happens"

"Oh. I see. Do you want me to explain it again?"

You smile, the tingling under your skin getting stronger.

"'Please do."

A soft shiver runs through your body as his hand closes around your wrist again.

Tech

He's a little harder to read than others, his emotional world seems to function differently than you're used to from most. He is often completely silent, and the next moment he is radiating a thousand things. His thoughts are always in motion, and often you feel he can't quite reconcile his emotions with what he's thinking.

Sometimes it feels like he is stumbling, even though he is calm and clear. This happens more often around you. It takes a while, but you eventually realize that Tech is attracted to you, very much so. His way of evaluating and looking at things logically, gets in the way. He feels intensely, but differently. As said before, it's hard to read him, despite the Force.

But his nervousness always comes through quite clearly, noticeable in the Force. Tech stands near the training area, with his datapad in hand. His gaze wanders back and forth between you and the device in his hand.

He admires you, the elegance with which the Jedi fight, especially you. In his head, he automatically calculates how efficient your approach is.

As you finish and approach him, he says, "You were 20 seconds faster today."

You blink in surprise. But really, it shouldn't surprise you. Tech remembers everything, and it's actually typical for him to evaluate everything.

"Is that so?"

He pushes his goggles up the bridge of his nose with one of his, long, slender fingers and replies, "Indeed"

"Do you have any ideas on how I can be even more effective?" you ask with interest.

He looks at you in surprise, not expecting you to be interested in his opinion.

"Quite," he says with a small, barely noticeable smile.

Tech is on fire with the idea. He explains things to you, shows you a few things, touching your hands now and then to show you what he means. At the moment he radiates pure joy, he feels useful can be close to you, you listen to him.

He has a wonderfully lively moment with you, which you both enjoy very much. When you're done, you smile at him, sensing his curious, affectionate feeling for you.

"Maybe you can show me more things when you get a chance," you say softly.

Tech nods, delighted.

"I'd love to, General."

Crosshair

You perceive him as strangely reluctant. He's fascinated by you, in many ways, and at the same time he seems frustrated by it. There is always a restless wavering beneath his surface. He is attracted to you, but is all too aware of the prohibition of this feeling.

But still, he keeps coming to watch you train, and today is no exception.

"Effective," he says tersely, chewing on his toothpick.

"Thanks," you say with an implied smile.

He doesn't smile back; he almost never does.

You tell him with genuine interest, "I'm always amazed at how someone, without access to the Force, can be as effective as you."

Now a smirk does appear on his lips. He is flattered and that you of all people are giving him this compliment triggers a real wave of joy under his surface.

"Hmm, I was bred, trained and genetically programmed for this," he says, shrugging his shoulders as if it's nothing special.

"Still, your reaction time, your focus, your accuracy, are very amazing."

He laughs softly.

"I know."

He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and flicks it away. Then he takes his Firepunsher and holds it out to you.

"You want to try it?"

You blink in surprise and finally say, "I've never fired a gun like that before."

"I can show you," Crosshair offers.

A nervous tingle travels through your body.

"Okay. Teach me," you say with a small, nervous smile.

At first, you're almost overwhelmed, Crosshair seeking a lot of physical contact as he shows you the proper stance and what to do. Every little touch, every graze of his on your skin, leaves you with a hot, wild tingling sensation. You clearly feel that he feels the same way and have difficulty concentrating.

He is intense, you feel his hunger for more, that every touch is not enough for him, only ignites a longing for more. It makes you nervous, but still, you don't withdraw from him, on the contrary. Every contact is a small fire, a camouflaged caress, chaste on the surface but underneath, hungry and intense.

Finally, you stand there, both quite breathless, hearts racing and neither of you can really name why.

He asks, "You didn't understand a word I said, did you?"

"Hmm?"

Crosshair laughs softly and asks, "Again?"

You nod and say softly, "Again".

Rex

"General, if I may interject, you are holding the blaster far too tense".

You glance over your shoulder, you've felt his presence before and you've become nervous. You like Rex, more than you should, much more. Your desire to impress him has thrown you off track, destroyed your focus, and you've tensed up. You sigh softly.

"Of course you're allowed to weigh in, Rex, I always welcome your constructive criticism. I'm just not used to this kind of weapon."

Rex steps closer to you, removes his helmet and places it on a nearby crate. He smiles, a small, very gentle smile. For what feels like the thousandth time, all you can think about is how gorgeous he is.

He gently reaches out a hand to you and asks, "May I?"

His fingers touch yours, and for a moment, your whole body tenses.

"You need to relax a little," he says gently, leaning lightly against you from behind as he tries to loosen your fingers with his.

First you're too tense, then the blaster slips from your fingers. You laugh nervously and say, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Rex says gently, picking up the blaster again, and placing it back in your hand, "Just handle the blaster like you would your lightsaber, fluid but firm in your grip"

"That makes sense"

You get the hang of it, pleased that he is pleased with you, and at the same moment you regret that his lesson is over. However, you sense that he doesn't want to leave yet.

"Could you maybe show me again?" you ask cautiously.

His brows go up at first, but he nods, gets back into position, and gently guides your hand on the blaster. You sense something deep inside him, an affection so real and deep that it almost takes your breath away for a moment.

"Are you all right?" asks Rex with concern as you stiffen again.

You relax your muscles, take a deep breath, and say, "Yes, everything's fine, Rex."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

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@ttzamara

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@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

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@hated-by-me

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@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@starwarsnerd111

[asexualenjolras]

It is one week until Newsies London closes in Wembley, and I got to see it again the other day, so I want to talk about Ryan Kopel and his beautiful portrayal of Davey Jacobs one more time.

I love how Ryan portrays Davey to be autistic. Ryan has said that he plays Davey in a way that exemplifies his quirks, and it really works in this production. It’s what I am going to miss the most. I’ve never felt more seen.

As an autistic person myself, I have always headcanoned Davey as being autistic – in every format of Newsies previously. Ben Fankhauser’s Davey was always autistic-coded to me – his portrayal was one of my favourites. And I was nervous about seeing another actor take on a character that means so much to me ... but Ryan took Davey and made him even more autistic and I am so, so grateful and in awe of his talent.

Let’s talk about Davey Jacobs and his autistic traits, as portrayed by Ryan Kopel in West Endsies:

- Stimming:

Davey is stimming the WHOLE SHOW. And that’s not an exaggeration. He is shown to bounce on his toes, he is constantly fidgeting with his fingers (and standing with those stereotypical t-rex arms) and he runs his hands along his newsie bag, and he does a few little spins when he's excited, and he jumps up and down at one point.

- Difficulty with social interaction:

From the first moment that Davey is on stage, he is shown to be incredibly uncomfortable talking to other people. He is shown to stammer over his thoughts and struggles to coherently converse with the other characters on the stage. He is portrayed as someone that is reluctant to speak, and he stutters and rambles and struggles to maintain eye contact, looking down at his fidgeting hands a lot. Ben Fankhauser made Davey more confident in his ability to share his thoughts, but Ryan’s Davey struggles - both internally and externally - with this.

He is also shown to have a one track mind in conversations. He struggles to see why Jack is having doubts after the rally because he, personally, thinks it was a success. Davey is bouncing around and his tone is so light and he is so confused by Jack's doubts. It's so autistic. It's so relatable.

- Relationship with physical contact:

Davey is shown to struggle when people suddenly touch him, he flinches and wipes the touch away whenever he is uncomfortable. BUT he initiates touch with those that he trusts. He's so physical with Les, constantly holding him and giving him reassurance through taps. He is shown to hug Jack and he hugs Crutchie and it's nice to see.

- Strong moral compass:

Unlike Ben Fankauser’s Davey (who I LOVE), Ryan’s Davey is shown to be more reluctant to join in on the strike – he is a lot more sheltered, and is completely isolated on one side of the stage in that scene. Davey looks down to his feet and looks to be at war with himself. He looks completely defeated when Jack asks if his father would be in the mess he was in if he had a union, because he knows that Jack – this boy that he has just met – is right. But he is so conflicted because he knows that this is going to be difficult, and he’s so worried and so anxious and so questioning about what the right thing is. It’s such a minor part of the show, but it’s there and I love it.

- Autistic joy:

I don’t know how else to word this but the way that we see Davey unmask throughout the play makes me so smiley. We see him go from this uncomfortable, awkward, masked version of himself in the beginning to someone that genuinely feels accepted and like he has a place in this strike and in the Newsie family. The excitement in his voice when he is talking to Jack in Medda’s is UNMATCHED. He’s so bouncy and light and he’s STIMMING and he’s so happy. I love it.

I could go on and on but I won’t. I just really love the artistic differences between Ryan and Ben’s Davey Jacobs’. I love both of their adaptations, but Ryan’s Davey feels so authentically autistic. And I am PRAYING we get to see his Davey immortalised in a pro-shot?! PLEASE?!

Ryan Kopel, thank you so much for giving us this wonderfully autistic Davey Jacobs on stage.

[isaut]

𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆— f!reader x captain rex. 1.2k. ao3

just a little something in between. previous. masterlist.

The capitol is still asleep– At least the human part of it. Droids bustle, carrying out tasks from the night prior or their master’s bedrooms. A few birds chirp and fly around, searching for their next meal, perhaps their children’s next meal.

No one pays him any attention. 

As he walks, Rex tries not to think about what it would have been like to still be asleep. In your bed. With your heavy duvet and soft pillows and gentle breaths. Head heavy against feathers. Warm under your covers. Still motionless. 

Maybe not motionless. Maybe soft. Maybe like in those movies Cody likes to watch, the ones where they stay and they talk in bed for a few minutes before rising. There’s always this light in the rooms coming from the windows with sheer curtains billowing in the breeze. The windows like yours. The curtains like yours. The couple is always in a slightly messy bed, just like yours. With the covers strewn about, doing little to keep everyone decent, and the pillows just mussed enough to provide a place to lay one’s head. 

The gangway is already down. Immediately, Rex’s heart jumps in his chest and he checks the time on his electronic watch. 7:28. There can’t be any chance that General Skywalker is back this early, he should still have at least an hour before he’s returned. 

General Skywalker has better things to do than sit on a cramped spaceship with a bunch of troopers that are here for an ‘undisclosed mission.’ 

Burnt coffee floats towards Rex as he climbs into the ship. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to completely sneak by the kitchen area if the door is closed. Then, he can go straight to the shower, freshen up, and get suited up. 

Like nothing happened. 

Because nothing should have happened. Guilt for that thought twinges in Rex’s stomach. 

Coming from the kitchen is a noticeable ruckus through the open door. Echo is speaking, bemoaning about how loud Hardcase is being and how bright the lights are. Rex isn’t surprised this is where the conversation has turned to– With all the different colors of liquor that went down the hatch, Rex is surprised that Echo is sitting up and withstanding Hardcase’s ribbing. Getting into his suit will not be a pleasant experience. 

Rex tries to pass the room as quietly as possible.

To no avail. 

“What do you think you’re going?” 

Rex pauses at Fives’ voice. He doesn’t know why he pauses, he could easily keep walking, could easily ignore him. 

“Headed to shower,” Rex says. 

“Going to shower?” 

Rex nods. “So I’ll see you later. Save me some coffee.” 

He doesn’t need anymore coffee. 

“Not so fast,” Fives says. He leans from side to side, trying to look at Rex from all angles. There’s an expectant arch to his brow, an expectant pull to his lips. 

“Yes?” Rex asks. 

“I mean…” Fives glances over at his brothers, one of which is trying to maintain a suspicious lack of eye contact. Kix’s hand rubs the back of his head as he stares at the wall. “How was it?” 

The tips of Rex’s ears turn red. “Uh, what are you talking about?’ 

“What am I talking about?” Fives scoffs and shakes his head. “What do you mean? You’ve been gone all night–”

“–There’s no curfew–” Rex cuts in. 

“–And Kix says when we left you at the bar–” 

There’s a particularly forceful shove to the side of Fives’ head that has him rocking sideways. Kix leaves his hand there, hissing out, “Shut up. You said you’d shut up!” 

At this development, Rex turns to fully face the room. His interest has piqued considerably, given this hint at unsolicited disclosure. He widens his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. With a look between a glare and a stare, he eyes Kix, though he speaks to Fives. 

“Go on.” 

Kix is suddenly incredibly interested in the bottom of his coffee cup. Perhaps he wants to read the grounds at the bottom in a recent stroke of esotericism, vying for a premonition about his fate. 

Fives narrows his eyes, unsure of how to proceed. Rex’s tone is his captain tone, the one where he needs information and is going to get it. 

“No…” Fives says, trailing off, unsure of his own defiance. Unsure of the can of worms he’s opened. 

“No, share,” Rex insists. “What did Kix say?” 

Hardcase is not as reliable as Echo is for sharing information, but he’s also well known for being over excited. His metaphorical tail wags— maybe there’s a treat that comes with the information. 

 “Kix said you were talking to a bombshell on the roof,” Hardcase blurts out. 

This is brotherly betrayal, something unexpected but not unheard of. “Can’t bring you anywhere,” Kix bemoans, regretting his own blabbering, drunk mouth and his presence in the room. 

Rex raises an eyebrow. Kix isn’t wrong. Rex doesn’t know if bombshell is in his vocabulary per say, but it’s an apt description. 

“Did he now?” 

Hardcase’s hand goes over his own mouth, quick and clamping. 

Rex scans over his brothers, all successfully avoiding eye contact. He goes for the weakest link, focusing in on Echo and his green-hued skin. His head is in his hands, looking resolutely down at the table, clinging onto his upright position. Clinging to reality. 

“Echo, what else did Kix say?”

“Please don’t ask me,” Echo says, voice quiet. There’s a nauseated sway to his words. 

“Hardcase?” 

His brother in question keeps his hand clapped over his mouth and shakes his head fervently. 

Fives pipes up with that is supposed to ease the tension in the room. “Hey, listen, Rex, we aren’t judging you, in fact, we’re real happy for you! If anything, this is something you’ve been needing—”

“We need to be suited up and ready to go at O-900,” Rex interrupts. “Echo, you going to be good by then?”

Echo nods. He gives a half-hearted thumbs up. 

Hardcase releases his mouth with a gasp, as if he had been holding his breath in order to hold in his next words. His face scrunched in a desperate plea. “C’mon, please, share with us. Sharing is caring! I would share with you if I–”

The desperation is pathetic. “Unlike you, I don’t want to hear about it,” Rex says. “Better luck next time. I’m going to go shower.” 

Hardcase sighs, loud and petulant. “C’mon, cap’, some of us are–”

Rex doesn’t stick around to hear the end of that sentence. 

He should have showered at your place. He’d at least have less time to be harassed. And a soft place to put his hands. He bets the shower fall sounds good against the mosaics he caught a glimpse of. Bets your body wash smells better than the regulated one he gets. Bet it foams, just like in the movies. Bets your towels are fluffy, the washcloth he’d used between your thighs had been gentle and delicate and soft and absorbent and he should have just used his mouth. Should have let his tongue lave over your essence and sucked the skin clean. Should have only had to wipe away his own saliva. 

The shower spray is cold. Rex grits his teeth under it.

[keldabekush]

If rex and cody had space tiktok they would try the tortilla challenge and have to make like 20 instalments because neither of them would flinch or laugh theyre just maintaining eye contact and atomizing tortilla after tortilla in dead silence. Original audio no music. Just a cumulative hour of psychological warfare and whacky tortilla slapping sounds . Its agony to watch .

[floral-force]

hello there <3

coming at ya with a request!

can I get a f!reader x captain rex (TCW or Rebels) where reader is an armor tech and rex needs repairs done often? maybe he breaks a piece of armor on purpose just to keep going back?

can't wait to see what you doooo thank you friend!

in my head rex is either super flirty or super unsure/awkward when it comes to ~feelings~ so this def falls on the opposite end of the spectrum for me. my fic strategies in flirtation is at the other end. i hope you enjoy this drabble !!

requests are open! | masterlist | join the tag list

On the Mend

captain rex x f!reader

words: 844

warnings: none, but my blog is 18+ ONLY. no minors allowed.

read on ao3 | masterlist

“For a captain, you sure are clumsy,” you comment, looking over the damaged chest plate.

Rex rubbed the back of his head and chuckled nervously. “Yeah, well…It comes with the occupation, I suppose.”

You look up at him from where you sat, the clone captain standing before you dressed only in a body glove. He crossed his bulky arms over his chest—a broad one, at that—and you smiled at him. A tense, awkward silence hung over both of you, filling your small workroom with fog. You looked into his deep brown eyes, noticing how his broad nose crinkled when he sniffed; how he couldn’t maintain eye contact with you for longer than a few seconds.

You cleared your throat, fingers tapping the broken armor. “Well, um, this should be done by the end of the day tomorrow. Doesn’t look too banged up.”

“Good to know,” Rex said. He walked to the door with a stiff back, giving you a curt nod before leaving.

The second time he came back, it was a cracked pauldron—the blue one signifying his rank. She raised her eyebrow when he held it out to her, taking it gently.

“You were just here not even 6 rotations ago,” she remarks. “Kriff, captain, what does Commander Skywalker have you doing?”

Rex shook his head. “I’ve been here training, actually.”

She scoffed and looked up and down between him and the armor. “This happened during training?”

He shifted and scratched his thick bicep. Rex could barely look into her eyes; not because he couldn’t make eye contact, but because her beauty threw him off. When he’d first gone to her a standard month ago, he was instantly smitten. Whenever he saw her walking around base, he felt his heart beat faster. She made him more nervous than his Commander’s plans ever did.

Rex couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it led to him doing this just to see her. He made sure to land on his shoulder during a training exercise, knowing he’d need to get it fixed. Knowing it would lead to seeing her.

The way she looked at him, smiled, bantered—it drove him crazy. He wished he could just hold her hand, brush his fingers against hers. Rex wished he could be bold enough to make the first move.

“Landed on my shoulder wrong,” he replied.

She hummed and turned it over in her hands, deft fingers running over the crack, making him wish it was his chest she was stroking instead. When she looked up at him again, his breath caught in his throat. Maybe he was dreaming, but it seemed like there was something in her eyes, seeing him in a similar way.

“I’ll have it done tomorrow. You can pick it up then.”

Her voice was music to his ears. Maybe he’d return in a few rotations with something else.

“Captain Rex, here again? What a shock,” you deadpanned, leaning back in your chair.

He gave you a soft smile, light copper cheeks crinkling. “Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you said with a smile. “But I’m thinking I might have to start charging you.”

Rex chuckled, a light rumble. He was handsome, you’d decided. Charming, in his own special way. It was funny. You saw him training, giving orders; he was confident, sure of himself, filling a room with his presence. When he stood in front of you, he shrunk from shyness. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he had a crush.

You bit your lip as you inspected the damaged thigh plate, hiding a smirk. But of course, the ever-observant Rex noticed.

“Something the matter?”

You swallowed, deciding to be bold. “You know, I think I have an idea about how you could pay me back for all of these little—“ you gestured to the armor— “accidents.”

He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. “Is that so?”

You nodded, meeting his eyes. “I’ve heard of this cantina nearby. It’s quiet but I prefer them that way.”

“What’re you suggesting?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“Take me there.”

“As…As a date?”

A smile spread across your lips and you nodded. “Exactly.”

Rex’s face brightened and he grinned. “I’m free tomorrow. I got the morning off the day after.”

“I’ll be free after I finish fixing this,” you giggled, holding up the armor.

“I’ll meet you here then, love.”

The pet name sent a shiver up your spine. “Sounds like a date.”

Rex gave you a wide grin, and you could tell something had been lifted off his shoulders. You were incredibly flattered to be the object of his affection, and even more excited to finally get to know him beyond his awkward way of flirting. Maybe you’d be able to steal a quick kiss—you definitely weren’t thinking about how it would feel last night. Hopefully, you could be bold again. Hopefully, he’d keep coming by to drop off another piece of armor, giving you another piece of him—the real Rex—each time.

taglist (join here): @hardlystrictlystarwars

[asgodsfall-if]

As Gods Fall - Now on Tumblr!

In a dying world of magic and steel a god has been murdered. And it’s your job to find the murderer.

You are a Peacekeeper: an officer of the law upholding order in the last city of a dying world. Along with a new partner it is your job to find the one responsible for murdering a being once considered eternal. Become part of a unique modern fantasy world shaped by over a thousand years of history and uncover parts of it never before seen by mortal eyes.

Gameplay and features:

Play as one of 5 distinct races, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Pick between smart and resourceful humans, physically unstoppable werewolves, graceful and kind fairies, elementally potent demons or shapeshifting formis.

Customize and build your character. From their looks through their skills and attributes to their personality.

Approach problems with brute force, swift hand, sharp mind or quick tongue using an attribute based stat system.

Take advantage of a unique active ability system to overcome challenges.

Investigate crime scenes, interrogate witnesses, discover the city’s secrets and sins of its creators.

Experience a city on the brink of collapse and help control the panic, or add fuel to the fire.

Find rivalries, friendships and romance as you embark on 4 unique character journeys.

Find a way to stop the ongoing apocalypse or let the decay finish its job.

The world:

The world of Etr was always driven forth by conflict. Be it the wars of its first era, the technological race of the second, or the fight for survival in its current era. Once a land full of life and wonders, it is now plagued by an unstoppable force that is the decay as it ravages all in its path. The only place safe from it: Citadel City is a boiling pot of those that remain. Full of life and dangers as the last representatives of surviving races try to live together despite centuries of bad blood between some of them. A city where magic of old coexists alongside the cold steel and concrete of modern technology.

Companions:

Coren Ashver: Coren’s life was always an uphill battle. As a demi born of human and demon parents he was always an outcast. Wishing to follow in his dead father’s footsteps he joined the force and eventually signed up for an experimental enhancement program before becoming your new partner.

Erinwehulda Drakebraid (Eri): Erinwehulda’s the smartest forensic your precinct has. Seen as eccentric by most of your colleagues she prefers to stick to herself and her inventions. Now it’s your turn to get past the aloofness and work with her as you tackle the big case.

Mesar Nemo: Mesar’s the definition of a free spirit. A werewolf born into royalty and set to take over the clan in a few years. There’s a lot resting on his shoulders which he learned to push aside by chasing the rush of adrenaline. Now that his patron deity is gone will he step up to fill the hole?

Paoni Crowelo: To Paoni information is power and a tool used to maintain balance in a world gone mad. She sees herself as a caretaker of the city and its people and as the city’s biggest information broker there is nothing that goes by her. What secrets will her intel uncover as she aids you in your case?

You can play the publicly available demo consisting of the prologue and 3 chapters (~88.5k words) here: https://moody.ink/play/cavus-rex/as-gods-fall/mygame/index.php

For a more direct line of contact you can join the official discord server where it's easier for me to organize feedback and bug reports: https://discord.gg/Dv6HtKVYSd

Also if you want to support the project and receive perks like access to patron only chats, early access to new chapters and exclusive filler stories (none available right now) you can join the Patreon, or support me through Ko-fi: https://www.patreon.com/cavusrex https://ko-fi.com/cavusrex

[ghostofskywalker]

Filed Under: Work Orders

Words: 1,099

Summary: You're the best mechanic the GAR has, but sometimes that means that you're flooded with requests for repairs that are clearly not from combat, or at least not entirely from combat.

or alternatively: a collection of messages on your answering machine, that go a long way as evidence to support the argument that you deserved a raise.

Note: another work to add to filed under: the series! apparently i can only write a fic like this once every six months or so lol

ao3 link || clone troopers masterlist

A loud clang echoed through the room as you dropped your bag of tools on the floor, eyes bleary from waking up far too early. Long hours at unusual times were a given when you worked for the GAR, but that didn’t mean you ever really got used to it, even after the three days off you had just enjoyed. At least the work bays were quiet at this time of day, and you usually didn’t have to do much interacting with others until it was time for people to pick up their finished equipment. Droids would collect and deliver the ships and other apparatuses that needed fixing, and work orders were usually received through your datapad.

Sitting down at the slightly scratched chair at your desk, you saw the light on your communicator blinking, indicating that you had a few messages to listen to. Your office communicator was on a pathway that could be reached through simply contacting the main number for the GAR and pressing the correct buttons, but it wasn’t as common to see work orders being requested here rather than through your datapad. After the caf machine began to work its magic and you had a steaming mug of caffeine in front of you, it was time to see what was on your schedule for today.

you have *:･✧ eight ✧ ･:* new messages

“Hey, this is General Anakin Skywalker calling for the best mechanic in the galaxy!”

You paused the message and sighed, knowing that meant he needed something from you. And based on his overly chipper tone, the repairs would be intensive.

“I got the message from your datapad that you’re off for a few days, but when you get back I need a favor. It’s just a few dents and a broken blaster cannon, don’t worry too much, but we’ll be on Coruscant for a few rotations and I just wanted to see what you could do. Rex has sent an official work order to your datapad, just send a message to the Jedi Temple when it’s ready.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“What exactly am I supposed to say again?”

“Well, starting with your name would probably be a good idea.”

“Yeah that’s good.”

“And explaining that this needs to be done secretly, because Cody would kill us if he found out.”

“Definitely. Hi, my name is Boil and-”

“Wait, you were already on the call?”

“You watched me dial!”

Click.

After that played, you checked your datapad to see a communication that seemed to match the situation, and you just laughed at the plea to maintain complete secrecy.

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

The next message started with a shout from the background.

“It’s kriffing COLD in here!”

“Be quiet Crosshair! I’m leaving a message for the repair department now.”

“It’s still going to be three rotations before we even get to Coruscant. We’ll be blocks of ice by then!”

Another voice called out from the background.

“Go look for some blankets and let Tech leave the communication message in peace!”

“Fine.” 

“As you can probably tell, we’re calling because there’s an issue with our ship’s heating system. It’s an Omicron-class attack shuttle, and I believe that there must be some kind of slight leak preventing the heat from kicking in. More details will be sent with the droid when we drop off the ship.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Hello, this is Sergeant Hound calling from the Coruscant Guard, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be dropping off one of the battalion’s speeder bikes within the next day or two. It’ll look really bad, so if you have to scrap it completely that should be fine, just don’t tell Fox. I crashed it when I saw a cute massif on the street and completely flew into a wall, but if anyone else asks, there was a accident on the lower levels and it was too dark to see anything when I was chasing down a death stick dealer.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Now who are you calling?”

“Shhh, Fives, I’m on the phone with the maintenance number. If they can fix the general’s ships when he crashes them, this can’t be that big of a deal.”

“How are you going to explain the completely fried control board? Kix told us already that the GAR’s funneling all their money into new clones and can’t afford to replace landspeeders.”

“I’ll tell the truth, that it’s been acting strangely.”

“Yeah, after you spilled spotmelon juice all over it!”

“You were the one that knocked over the canteen!”

“Maybe we can blame it on the general, he’s already bringing his fighter down there after that last battle.”

“Yeah, maybe if we crash it into something first.”

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Why did you call the GAR’s main line? I don’t think the people in payroll and budgeting will be able to help until we get the damage under control.”

“This is the maintenance department. Jesse says there’s someone there that fixes things all the time for them, like that time when Hardcase built a bomb in the Resolute’s refresher.”

“Sinker, that’s what you did!”

“No!”

“Maybe it’s not in the refresher, but-”

“I built a bomb out of the caf machine, it’s a completely different situation. And mine was accidental, I don’t think you can say the same thing about the 501st!”

Your mind wandered from the message as it was still being played from your machine, mentally making a note to get out all the safety equipment you thought you might need. If this is anything like the situation that was just referenced, you were going to need some high quality supplies.

*:･✧ ✧ ･:*

“Hi, my name is General Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know that General Skywalker is going to be dropping off a starship for you to take a look at within the next few rotations, and I wanted to ask if you had a moment to check over my ship too? I don’t know what Anakin has told you, but I’d be willing to bet that he undersold how bad it was. Look, don’t tell him that I told you, but I wouldn’t be surprised when it comes in totaled. I’m surprised he was even able to land that smoking heap of transparisteel. That aside, if you have time to look at mine just let me know, there’s nothing really specific I’m looking to fix but I would prefer to know if something was wrong before the next high stress situation. Thank you!”

you have *:･✧ zero ✧ ･:* new messages

You sighed, taking a huge sip from the caf in your hands and getting up from your desk. It looks like you had a lot of work to do. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

divider credit to djarrex - reblogged here

[tortugatalks]

𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲-𝗟𝗶𝘁 𝗗𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗞 𝗩𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀|ᴴᶜˢ

a.n. wine and dine? wine and dine! paisley paver and rex will be exempt from these hcs ahahem... i have yet to fully watch their eps, but they'll be here soon! trust 🤝

���� gender neutral reader

𓆉 established romantic relationship

𓆉 no warnings!

Zach Varmitech

━ wild rats, wild varmints—ugh! it's enough to drive any evil genius insane! what better way to rid yourself of these burdens than to have a nice candle-lit dinner with your love? and you know what...? that actually sounds like a feasible idea! that settles it. he'll call in his zachbots and have them prepare the table and food for you and him. up in the city sky within his skyscraper, that's where! this is a night truly well deserved after all. your host? him of course!

━ type of guy that thinks he has it all planned out, but in execution? mmm, perhaps not. ever seen those really long tables in the movies? where two people sit opposite of one another and there's this entire space left in between? yeah, you both will be seated at one of those. it looks formidable and exquisite, sure, but when you two actually talk to each other? mans is just yelling out 'WHAT?'s whenever you speak and it's really not that efficient. he ultimately, and rather begrudgingly, has a zachbot seat you closer to him. does it kill the vibe? for him, probably, but for you? not so much!

━ his zachbots will be your waiters for tonight ooh la la, but like, c'mon, they're not entirely the best at double meanings and social cues. can't read the room! you'll have zach call them over to "fetch" him a bottle of wine and the bots take it a little too literally. it's chaos, but honestly? you'd be lying if you said you weren't having the time of your life.

━ little romantic moments with the self proclaimed genius inventor are few and far between, but in this moment, he likes to indulge in the fact that he's the one in control. no distractions, no green boy or blue boy to be seen; just you two. tries to be sauvé, and it works out for him at the start, but there's bound to be a few slip ups here and there. i.e. when he mistakenly initiates a flower protocol that instantly has his bots waltzing in with bouquets. they're decorated in pretty black wraps and ribbons, and for a second his face is crimson. he panics and yells that now wasn't the time and he tries ever so hard to get you to think that the flowers that just so happened to be your favorites "weren't" for you.

Donita Donata

━ she's worked terribly hard. fashion designing, evil schemes, organizing runway shows; it's an exhaustion that has her extremely burned out! so... why not plan a dinner date just for her? yes!! tell her about it and there's already sparkles in her eyes. she talks a lot about the kind of scented candles you'll have, the luxury wine, the appetizers—oh, she just has to call in dabio! and it must be in her glamorous mansion too! she gets so into it and completely forgets that you were the one who was supposed to be planning the night, but oh well!

━ dresses up nicely in luxurious clothes she knows you'll like! she's quick to put together something for you too, and without a doubt, its definitely matching. even dabio gets his own little fancy suit! (he'll be your lovely waiter for the night, of course!)

━ all lights are dimmed to a light pink once the clock strikes night time. if you're to pull out her chair and get her cozy in her seat, she'll let out a low but a loving hum. consider her impressed! bonus points if you compliment her, but c'mon, she already knows she owns the look! through it all, the mood is relaxing. conversations consist of casual flirtatious comments, plans for the future and so on and so forth. loves maintaining eye contact with you, so when you speak, you'll typically see her resting her chin on the palm of her hand with her elbow resting on the table, eyes trained on your face. if you're one to fluster easily, she'll have herself a fond laugh <3

━ would absolutely love to slow dance with you. stand up from your seat, offer her your hand and she'll be pleasantly surprised! she'll rock with you in your arms and give you tiny squeezes here and there. she loves toeing with the line of propriety and can be a bit of a tease every now and then!

Dabio

━ the sweetest ever! he hardly has any time for himself considering that he's always assisting donita with her fashion work. you gotta convince her to lay him off work for a bit, if just for one day! much to your surprise, she gives in to your wishes. just one day, though, but that's all you need before you're off planning a relaxing homemade date night for the both of you. tell dabio about it and he's just as happy, if not more than you! very excited and can't wait to spend the evening with you. he insists that he helps you cook, and you just can't say no to him <3

━ the dinner date isn't as fancy as the former two, but it holds a lot of love. despite not being on the job, dabio is ever the gentleman! he's fully decked out in the clothes donita made for him, he pulls out your chair for you, gifts you flowers, compliments you—the works! but of course, the dinner date is meant for him as much as he treats it like it's for you. if you happen to have a gift for him, he'll be on cloud nine! rest assured, whatever it is, he'll cherish it forever (or for as much as he possibly can!)

━ dinner talk is filled to the brim with laughter and conversations about practically anything you two can think of! he, however, loves to listen to you talk. whether it's about your day or your interests, dabio patiently and intently listens to everything you have to say while he eats and chimes in with a few comments of his own.

━ serve him some wine or offer to get up and get him a second serving and this guy has got hearts in his eyes! he absolutely adores your kindness and is very much appreciative, but don't think for a second that he won't do the same for you. he treats you like royalty and c'mon, to him it's only fair!

Gaston Gourmand

━ prepare to have yourself the most delicious and exquisite dinner you've ever had. having a dinner date was his idea and he takes it as an opportunity to woo you with his killer culinary skills and romantic gestures. the location he chooses isn't the most grandiose, but it's sweet with you in mind. he opts to dine somewhere familiar: out in the open (preferably next to a lake or river) in the foldout cafe area of his camper—string lights galore! surprise, surprise, he doesn't tell you what he has planned, but you know he's up to something with the way his tone dances as he speaks. all he does manage to tell you is for you to dress in comfortable clothes come night time! doesn't have to be anything particularly fancy—you'll look great in anything!

━ doesn't take long before he gets started on the cooking. everything will be made a la gourmand! he would like for you to feast on a rare dish, but it seems that whenever he does try to go and hunt something, green grape and blueberry are always there. he mulls over the thought a bit and ultimately decides that he doesn't want to go through all that for tonight at all. besides, he has exceptional cooking skills! whatever he makes will be jaw dropping and drool inducing either way.

━ very cheesy in execution. he does that thing where he covers your eyes with his hands as he leads you to his makeshift café. he pays close attention to your reactions and his heart swells with pride once you catch a whiff of a dish that smells particularly tasty! once he takes his hands off your face, he puffs out his chest with every compliment you throw at him. he may not look the part, but gourmand is determined to impress you!

━ as your dearly devoted partner, he takes full responsibility in serving you and making you feel content through and through. doesn't expect you to eat all proper, rather, he enjoys seeing you scarf down your dinner plate. he loves to talk big, his ego blinding, but he does like hearing you talk. he lets you get your own way in everything you do, not expecting anything other than the same from you in return <3

[mamuzzy]

From your angst prompt list I'd like to ask for Fives x Deadshot! <3

With either:

"I'm the only one who gets to decide if someone deserves me, and I can confidently say you are that someone who does"

or:

"You're right, I do deserve better"

Depending on how much angst you wanna put into it 😈

Oooooooh boy. Oooooh boy. You really gave me a challenge here @ithillia. But you also made me write the first debut of my babyblorbo in a fanfiction, you can't imagine how happy I am that I could finaly made it happen <3 It took a time while I figured it out how I integrate the lines into the fic without sounding OOC or off but I think I'm satisfied with the outcome. I hope you will like it too <3 PREPARE FOR HEARTBREAK!!! So in the end I went with

"I'm the only one who gets to decide if someone deserves me, and I can confidently say you are that someone who does"

Summary: Captain Rex had enough with Deadshot's digging into the past and decided it's time to have a conversation neither of them wished to have. Word count: 2446 Rating: Mature, no explicit content, characters swear. Talking about a dead person and grief. Characters: ARC Trooper Deadshot, Captain Rex, ARC Trooper Fives Relationship: FivesShots (cloneship) Warning: Splitting. The characters are emotionally conspitated and have mentalhealth problems. NO BETA. Additional tags/tropes: Fives is Rex's adopted son, Fives and Shots is in established relationship, clones speak mando'a (just a little), Deadshot is a little shit. Amnesia due to recondition. AND ANGST. LOTS OF ANGST.

Alright. Here we go. :)))))

“Wanted to speak with me, sir?” asked Deadshot, and since he wasn’t given a permission to sit down, he stood before the Rex’s desk. For his surprise, he was offered a seat.

“Sit” said Rex without looking up from the paperwork.

Deadshot hesitated a bit, he wasn’t comfortable about sitting down to the sligthest but in the end, obliged.The flickering booming of the lights irritated Deadshot just as the silence they had between them, and he couldn’t be sure why he was called the first place. He watched as the captain signed the last datapad, putting away on the top of the organized pile at the right side of the anyway-pristine clean desk. Rex then looked up, straight into his eyes. Dark browns started to squint after the first few second, but in the end - as always -, Rex averted his gaze, cupped his face in one hand until only the furrowed wrinkles were visibe on his forehead which made him look so old, Deadshot almost almost felt sorry for him. Almost. By now everything was clear for Deadshot why was Rex was so hostile with him before but the sweet taste satisfaction and victory killed any compassion he had left for the captain.

“I want you to stop” Rex finaly spoken up, weariness in his tone.

“Sir?” Deadshot scoured the captain for messages wasn’t spoken out loud but he probably should have known without telling.

“This existential crisis of yours.” Oh.

“I have a lot going on, sir, you have to be more specific than that.”

This made Rex come out from hiding, expression exasperated, those dark eyebrows curled disapprovingly. “Don’t be a smartass with me.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Rex leaned in his chairs, hands now rested on the desk, fingers tied together and looked at him once more. And Deadshot stared back with his usual skeptical look on his face, ambery eyes ever-judgeful. He started to notice some patterns when the captain was able to maintaining eye-contact with him, irises shifted toward the left side of the eye, probably have found a spot to stare at instead of him. His ears probably.

“You got your answers now.”

Rex had not ask a question so this time Deadshot didn’t respond, just waited for Rex to elaborate.

“You figured it out, who you were. What have you done. What now? What else do you want?”

Deadshot considered his next words. Rex was right about him, he was still in investigation about his past but for entirely different reason now.

“I need to know why I had to die, sir.”

“You know it very well.”

“And I think that’s a lie, sir. I have a gut-feeling about it and…”

“I don’t give damn about your gut-feeling, Deadshot” said Rex harshly. Deadshot was tempted to say that he also didn’t give a damn about Rex’s opinion but, swallowed and just stared into those brown eyes, just to spite him in hope he can manage secure another victory of dominance again. But Rex didn’t turned his face away, not this time, because Rex continued speaking.

“These brilliant gut-feelings of yours will be our downfall one day. Have you ever considered what would happen if someone recognizes you? Do I really need to lock you up in the solitary everytime I can’t keep my eye on you? Maybe you had forgotten what would have happened if someone recognized you on Coruscant?!”

“Sir…?”

“You almost got us killed with that stunt.”

Deadshot couldn’t say anything. Deep inside his mind he knew Rex was right, right about this one at least, but still, the captain shouldn’t have to state it like he was deliberately wanted to ruin the muster with that panic attack. He felt those few bites of rationbars switching places in his stomach. He had to endure it.

“I risk everything” Rex continued. “Everything, my company, my men, my only son remained, the very trust of General Skywalker put in me, to cover your shebs.”

“I’ve never asked for this, sir-“

“But you are here, now, in the present. Now that you know why is it important to keep your identity a secret, you are still reckless. You are an ARC Trooper for fuck sake, and I get it, your duty calls you to work alone, but you have responsibilities toward the company and your personal agenda endangers your brothers every time you decide to going after your own head.”

“So convenient of you deciding when I’m one of you and when I’m just a walking ghost of-“

“DON’T!” Rex raised his hand to emphasise on his objection. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear his name, I don’t want to hear that name ever again. He is dead. He was dead to us even when he was alive.”

“So I’ve heard. And with all due respect sir, I don’t give a shit about it” Deadshot felt a sudden surge of confidence, probably came from his anger and he felt he really wanted to flood Rex with everything he got. “He was an asshole, I get it. For every sin he committed against the Republic, against you against his batchmates, I have to suffer ten times, wielding this burden like it was mine all alone and you know what? It is. It’s mine alone. Maybe I deserve to be treated like shit, maybe I deserve to be spitted on because the face I have or what it represent to those… what, like, three people who actually recognized me?” Deadshot counted on his fingers, gesticulating his inner frustration. “And didn’t gave a single cocksucking shit about me when I needed help? You are all cowards.”

Rex rubbed his forehead again, mouth pressed like he was in pain, stifled any emotion that was about to come out.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” asked Deadshot, confused.

“For not being a good commander for you.”

Deadshot expression distorted by spiteful bitterness faded away, left only cautios skepticism. He finally got to tell him everything this time. His anger, his disappointment in him, the words just flowed like sluice opened to ease the waters behind it before breaking out, under supervision and control. He never would have hoped for such opportunity. His whole body felt the tension, like his inner self scratched the surface of his skin from behind, but this time it wasn’t the crawling sensation in his veins, hoping for an easing scratch, more like, wanting to detach himself, because he wasn’t sure how would he able to handle these uncharted waters of… finally having the attention of Captain Rex.

“I wasn’t fair with you, right from the start. I have responsibilities toward my men but even if you are… YOU, you are my trooper too.” Rex talked slowly, as if the words were hard to spoke. He wanted to be elsewhere, it would have been better to be outside, fight a fight and dying in the process, anything but not to be here. “I don’t know how, or why, but you were given a second chance and you are wasting it away by chasing demons of the past. Like I said, your past-self is dead. You have to move on, HELL, I HAVE TO MOVE ON but I can’t. But I have to. So should you! You don’t have to live with the memories you don’t even have, but I HAVE by looking at you, the way you walk, the way you fight, the same way you stare with those fucking judgmental eyes, your fucking eyes…” and Rex look straight into those eyes.

And Deadshot couldn’t bear to look back. He lowered his head, watchings his own hands fidgeting furiously in his lap. The silence stretched, the lamp still flickered.

“I’m also aware that you fuck my ad.”

Deadshot nearly chocked on air, positioning himself into a more comfortable stance on the chair, and couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh.

“What does Fives has to with this?” asked after he managed to spit out coherent words.

“Everything” stated Rex, more confidently than he was in the whole conversation. “If you choose to continue down this road instead of listening to me, I want you to leave Fives out of it.”

“Sir, maybe I shouldn’t be the one you lock up in the solitary” Deadshot grinned nastily. “Wherever I go, he’ll follow. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.

”Sir?” Deadshot suddenly felt sick, the nauseous feeling that the known world is suddenly crumbling around him piece by piece again made his stomach turned 180 degree with a violent slam. Endure.

“With that face of yours and death lingering around, you’ll never have a chance to get promoted. Not if we want to keep your identity safe. Not if I want to keep my men alive. Fives, he has bright future ahead. Has potential to become a leader one day, much better than I ever was. Don’t take this away from him.”

Endure. Endure. Endure.

“But, sir…” Deadshot’s voice rasped, almost like a whisper. “But you just said…”

“When the war’s over, I can reassign you to somewhere else. Soldiers always needed, especially away from the Core. You can live in peace, nobody would bother you, nobody would search for you, we can… Cody knows a vod, he would just erase your whole existence from the database. This is… is the only thing I can offer to help you.”

If Rex told him anything after that, Deadshot couldn’t remember. Rex wanted to hide him. Away from his friends, his vode, his… FIVES, the very thought of being separated from Fives made him think swallowing a thermodetonator, this time, to finish the job the clankers couldn’t do last time but he also had to remind himself, that the clankers never shot him, the clankers never blown him up, it weren’t the clankers who gave him amnesia in the first place -endureENDUREENDURE-, but whatever, killing himself was a better option than living a solitary life away from his loved one!!! It’s not about the promotions, not about being treated specially, it…

He believed, he genuinly wanted to believe in Rex that maybe… maybe there was a future for him even without his memories, they were actually having a normal conversation for the first time and it turned out it was actually an elaborate “nice commander talk” to… to what…?

But despite all of this, Rex was right, Deadshot knew it deep in his gut. The fucking gut-feeling. It’s logical. Completely understandable concern. Fives is daddy’s little boy, even with all the mischief and fooling around, Fives still had a chance to become someone great, if not from his own, then he got protection, from Rex, from the General, from the Chancellor himself, this elaborate network of interest could make it happen for Fives to have a good life after the war while the same network could destroy everything, not just for Fives but for everyone if he didn’t stay put… and he… and he… He was supposed to be dead to begin with.

— x —

0500 standard, his inner clock was always punctual. Deadshot laid on bed, eyes open, stared at the bunk wall. He wanted to sleep but his thoughts already raced into his darkest part of the mind right after being conscious, felt empty yet so weary at the same time, he just couldn’t make himself move and get his gear to visit the shooting range. He just couldn’t. The others were still sleeping, Jesse’s sudden snorts and Tup little pup sounds while turning to his other side broke the silent darkness.

Someone moved eventually, fumbled with the blankets, then barefooted steps, a mild sway during walk… Fives, thought Deadshot. Steps became louder as Fives approached his bed. The mattress slumped under one knee and Deadshot’s felt his own blanket lifted and the sudden cold made him shiver, cowered himself more with his hands. But the cold feeling faded as Fives’ hot, naked upper body pressed onto his back, carefully cover them with the blanket to keep the remaining heat inside and comfortably snuggled to his lover’s nape. When Deadshot’s stiffened body loosened in his touch, Fives embraced him, fingers slowly entwining on the former’s chest.

“Hey” Fives whispered, not to wake up the others and breathed a little kiss on the neck. Deadshot didn’t answer.

“You are skipping the morning routine again” Fives pushed.

“I don’t feel like it now.”

“Four days in a row” and since Deadshot was nitpicky about what to answer, Fives continued. “And you’re avoiding me.”

Endure, Deadshot reminded himself. Endure. He felt a familiar, hot stinging in the corner of his eyes. Fingers between fingers, Fives drew calming lines into the calloused skin.

“Alright. I won’t push. I… I just miss you. And wanted to tell you” Fives lifted himself a bit, positioning himself to reach Shot’s ear. “I love you.”

Deadshot began to tremble, he needed all his willpower not to open his mouth and let his sobbing out like an explosion. He didn’t wanted to be heard, he didn’t want Fives hear him, and definitely didn’t want the others hear him. He felt Fives hand tightening, his head bored to his, whispering calming words.

“Hey, hey, cyare, what’s wrong? Shhh… it’s okay… it’s okay…”

It wasn’t okay, nothing was okay.

“I don’t deserve you” said Deadshot with weak whimper through gritted teeth. Fives gasped at this declaration in disbelief and concern, his calming touches stopped for a moment. Tried to take it heartlightedly, take is as Deadshot usual “crisis-thing”.

“Hey… what’s with that answer?” He chuckled. “You have to say it back.”

But Deadshot couldn’t. The trembling won’t stop, every sweet reassuring words were daggers pierced through his chest, his brain, his teary eyes. The same hands kept him safe for a moment but now he only felt numb inside the embrace. Deadshot’s soundless cry, stiffled sniffing made Fives heart ache for him.

“You know what?” Fives spoke again with the same patience. “I’m the only one who gets to decide if someone deserves me, and I can confidently say you are that someone who does.” Fives hoped maybe his lover become eased by the little joke, maybe saying back something snarky, unimpressed remark about he is able to compliment HIMSELF while compilenting others, but it didn’t happen.

The ARC trooper smalls repressed hiccups turned into miserable whimpering, and his grip on Fives’s hand became so strong, it started to hurt, but Fives didn’t pulled his hand away, this pain was so little what must had Deadshot felt right now, Fives knew in his guts. He decided maybe… maybe he would just stay here, a voiceless-support until Deadshot was ready to talk.

[dumpster-fire-deluxe]

Why Palpatine is autistic (headcanon)

Listen if I was diagnosed as autistic in 15 minutes without diagnostic assessment and by answering "eh, kind of" to 2/10 questions, then this man should be diagnosed ten times over

You can only disagree with me once you've read the whole thing <3

Part 1: DSM-5 official diagnostic criteria

Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity, ranging, for example, from abnormal social approach and failure of normal back-and-forth conversation; to reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect; to failure to initiate or respond to social interactions.

This criterium can include a lack of affective/emotional empathy. Also, when is Palpatine interested in the emotions of others beyond how it serves him?

Yes, he does seem socially adept. But this is something you can learn, literally. He's had a lot of training in how politicians act, how to convince people, etc. It's all an act. It's just a more severe form of masking.

And let's not forget: how much easier is social interaction when you can sense the other person's thoughts and feelings through the Force? No need to read their body language at all. You can feel what's going on and what they want to hear

Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction, ranging, for example, from poorly integrated verbal and nonverbal communication; to abnormalities in eye contact and body language or deficits in understanding and use of gestures; to a total lack of facial expressions and nonverbal communication.

Masking!! There are many moments with Palpatine where I'm like "ah, that there is very much a conscious expression, deliberately pulling those precise facial muscles, rather than something naturally happening". Same with a lot of moments of intonation.

Also, how often do you see him talk with his hands? When talking, his arms are usually rigidly at his side (or in T-Rex position).

Deficits in developing, maintaining, and understanding relationships, ranging, for example, from difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts; to difficulties in sharing imaginative play or in making friends; to absence of interest in peers.

This is specifically about equal peer relationships. Yes, Palpatine knows how to do official/business relations. You can learn that in political school or by copying others. There are rules & tactics & etiquette/protocols. But close, personal relationships?

You often see autistics in relationships with power differences, like master-apprentice/dom-sub relationships (in either role). That's a lot easier to navigate than equal peer relationships, which are a lot muddier.

Also, "absence of interest in peers". When have we seen him yearning for close personal relationships?

Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech (e.g., simple motor stereotypes, lining up toys or flipping objects, echolalia, idiosyncratic phrases).

Palpatine does have some frequent finger tapping going on and he "worm walks" (swaying with either legs or upper body, unless focusing on walking straight and/or looking at the ground, like in the third image).

Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior (e.g., extreme distress at small changes, difficulties with transitions, rigid thinking patterns, greeting rituals, need to take same route or eat same food every day).

I don't think he has this one.

Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g., strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests).

This is the big one. What neurotypical person would be able to spend every waking moment working on one singular interest (Sith Grand Plan/Dark Side), forsaking social relationships and such? Even passionate allistics wouldn't be so entirely consumed by one thing for years on end.

Palpatine also collects objects related to that interest (the Sith artifacts/artworks).

Once he's emperor he doesn't show himself much anymore but instead spends all day alone studying his special interest.

Hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input or unusual interest in sensory aspects of the environment (e.g. apparent indifference to pain/temperature, adverse response to specific sounds or textures, excessive smelling or touching of objects, visual fascination with lights or movement).

First of all, the depression robes from the original trilogy. That's all.

Second, I think in the Star Wars universe "sensory aspects of the environment" could apply to the Force too, in line with hyper-empathy & hypersensitivity. And guess who was born super sensitive to the Force?

Third, no neurotypical person has that kind of interior design. I'm talking about all the red. My guess is chronic under-stimulation, thus needing to be surrounded by a bright color.

Part 2: Miscellaneous/Non-diagnostic autistic traits

Gender non-conformity (always wears dresses and gives off such princess energy)

He often has T-Rex arms and when he doesn't, his arms are stiff by his side (stiff posture in general). When relaxed, the T-Rex comes out.

His father thought he was different from birth, something about Palpatine didn't appear "normal" to him

Autism & pattern recognition + seeing the inner mechanics of systems. This includes social/societal structures. Add in years of analyzing humans and their behavior/psychology. It makes it possible to see relations, predict actions, etc., either on an individual scale or a larger one.

In the same vein, good at analyzing (situations & people)

His father was said to be cruel and violent (in this house the Darth Plagueis novel is still canon, fight me). Autism + childhood trauma can turn quite intense, to put it mildly. In this case: no empathy + no attachment to other humans + learning to read people and situations very well to stay safe + tendency to rigid thinking/intense preoccupation + seeing everyone as an enemy + special interest that involves hurting others, combined with running into a Sith Lord during his formative years? Yeah, all the pieces are there.

Anyway, this headcanon is locked into my brain now and I simply can't unsee it anymore.

[thefact0rygirl]

Ok but watching the empire strikes back with Tem’s voice over. When he says “As you wish.” I am just reminded of Westly of Princess Bride. But now I am all fluttery inside and have the idea of Rex, Fives, Jesse and Boba all saying that to their SO all sweet like. K thanks love u lady Vee

With a light head nod as he maintains eye contact ufff YEAH

is now a good time to mention my princess bride au with gregor?

[soclonely]

To assert his superior manly dominance, Tup slams a shot of siracha mixed with ghost pepper salsa every morning at breakfast without flinching, while maintaining eye contact with an undercaffeinated and frankly too tired to give a womp rats ass Captain Rex