#Clone Matchmaking

[sunshinesdaydream]

To celebrate being on this... whatever we are calling it now for 10 years and currently having 448 followers I am going to have a multi part celebration.

🌟💜The poll decided that Clone Matchmaking is what we are going to do to celebrate.💜🌟

I am going to let Isa Mio my Matchmaker OC take the wheel and tell you which clone she'd match you with. Don't worry, Greatheart is around to keep her level.

Send to my Ask Box

A name or nickname you wish to go by and pronouns(I don't think I need to tell you not your real one?)

Physical description (only if you want to)

Describe your style/aesthetic

What you do for fun

Your description of your personality

Where you would choose for your first date with your clone match?

Anything else you would like to include!

ANONS ARE WELCOME!

☀️💚💜Love and Wrecker Hugs!💜💚☀️

#Clone Matchmaking #Sunshine's 10th Celebration #tumblr milestone #pinned post #star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone troopers

[ghostofskywalker]

Don't Say "I Told You So"

Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,739

Summary: Crosshair didn't need a relationship, and he had only agreed to this stupid service because all his brothers had done it as well. But a switch in his mind was flipped when he met you, he just doesn't want to admit it.

Note: this is my contribution to the fanfiction universe of @tcwmatchmakingau :) the canon divergence here is that the empire falls apart in its early days after palpatine bites it, which would still imply that crosshair spent some time in its service. i couldn't decide which clone i wanted to write so i picked six of my faves and rolled a die to decide - crosshair won :)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

“What are you looking to gain from our service today?” The overly bubbly woman asked Crosshair as he sat with his arms crossed in a chair that seemed entirely out of place in a tiny office like this. She was not bothered one bit by the way he so obviously did not want to be there, and there weren’t many people in the galaxy that could look so nonchalant on the receiving end of his annoyed expression.

“To get my brothers off my back,” he answered dryly, watching as she started to type something on her datapad.

“So you’re not looking for anything serious then?”

“What do you think?”

The woman behind the desk (she had introduced herself before, he just forgot her name) looked up at him with a glare that matched his in its intensity, and for a moment the change actually caught him off guard. “I have half a mind right now to set you up with the person I think you would dislike the most and ensure that you have the worst two hours of your life,” she said, her tone sharp and unwavering. “But since I am a professional, I will not do that. However, I expect to be afforded the same courtesy. I have a perfect track record with my matches for this company, but that does not mean I won’t throw it away for the chance to make you miserable, and that is certainly a threat. Do we understand each other?”

A silence fell over the room as her words sunk in. “Fine,” he said, swallowing his pride and allowing her to continue with the matchmaking interview. There was a part of him that wondered if he did indeed have a perfect match out there, even if he was (mostly) here because the rest of his squad had already gone through the process. Because anyone that managed to find someone who could willingly put up with Hunter was clearly some kind of Jedi, and there was another part of him that wanted to be the one to annoy his brothers, just as they had annoyed him with their new partners.

The interview was soon finished, and he left the office wondering what was going to come of all this. The woman (who had reverted back to the insufferably bubbly version of herself from the beginning) told Crosshair that someone would reach out to him with details about his date soon, even though he didn’t know if he believed her. There couldn’t be anyone in their little catalog who would willingly go on a date with him, this had to be some kind of scam.

***

But somehow the unthinkable happened, and from what Echo said when he heard Crosshair had gotten a message, it had happened in record time. And even now, if it weren't for the fact that his brothers were all stationed outside the restaurant, he might have run away before ever stepping foot inside. Wrecked would have simply just picked him up and walked him inside anyway, and that would be ever more embarrassing than simply just accepting his fate and not trying to escape.

He wasn’t given much information about you or the date, other than your first name and the fact that a table had been reserved for you two at a restaurant on the top level of Coruscant. It wasn’t the nicest place in the world, but Crosshair appreciated that there didn’t seem to be an intense pressure to get perfectly dressed up, especially since he only had a limited amount of clothing at this time. He also had a sneaking suspicion that you had picked the spot, because none of the others had ever heard of the place when he told them where he was going.

Despite the fact that he didn’t really think any kind of relationship was going to come from this, he still found himself slightly worried about how you were going to perceive him. Even though the war was over and clones were fully recognized as citizens, it was hard for him to believe that anyone would willing want to go on a date with him. He could understand how his brothers were able to find romance, they weren’t as broken as he was, and they were having a much easier time adjusting to their new lives outside of military service.

When he gave the person standing at the front of the restaurant his name, they smiled and told him to follow, as his date for the evening was already here. He was hoping that he could get by without the staff knowing the true reason he was there, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. The sound of his comm device buzzing caught Crosshair’s attention, and he looked down at his wrist to see a message from Hunter.

Don’t kriff this up.

But of course he didn’t have time to send anything back before he had arrived at his table for the evening. Caught off guard by your beauty, he forgot for a moment that he didn’t reallu want to be there. “Hi,” you greeted him as he sat down. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

There was another version of him vying for control of his body right now, that was cruel and vindictive and could never believe that you were here to see him. And as much as he wished that version of him had died with the Empire, that was simply not the case, and he fought hard to push those thoughts away. Maybe he would never be as bright and as joyful as Wrecker, but you did not deserve to spend time with a sour version of him, especially when none of the issues he had were your fault.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he said. “Why did you sign up to do this?”

You laughed. “Honestly? My friends pushed me to sign up for an interview.”

“My brothers practically forced me to do this,” he said, watching as a smile crossed your face.

“Wow, I guess we both don’t want to be here, huh?”

Five minutes ago, Crosshair would have earnestly confirmed your statement and suggested that you go your separate ways. But now, he found himself wanting to stay, even though he had no idea how to respond. “I suppose not.”

“But since this meal has already been paid for, I think we should stay.” Thank the Maker for that suggestion.

Of course, he had to keep up appearances. “I’m fine with that.”

As the date continued, conversation moved like one of the Coruscant Guard’s massif puppies: tentative but determined, and the more Crosshair spoke to you, the more he realized how much you complemented each other.

It was so much more complicated than the roles of sun and moon, because neither of you perfectly fit into either image. You had a macabre streak to rival the dry quips he often subjected his brothers to, but there was also a brightness to your personality that he found himself desperate to learn about. As you shared stories about past relationships and told him all about the work you do, he found himself wondering how in Sith Hells it was possible that through one interview (that he didn’t even take seriously) someone had managed to find him someone like you.

The food was certainly a step up from the things he ate during the war, and the two of you indulged in drinks that were brightly colored and sickly sweet. If this was 79’s and his brothers were around, he might have cared about what they would say as they watched him take sips of a lavender colored liquid. But here, the only person whose opinion mattered to him was you, and the way you smiled as you tasted the drink for the first time was something he didn’t want to forget.

When it was time to leave, he waited with you for a hovertaxi and waved you off before heading back to the apartment he now shared with his brothers. It didn’t seem like the rest of the squad had stayed outside the restaurant for the entire night (like they had threatened to do), and Crosshair was glad for the time alone with his thoughts.

He wanted to see you again, that much was certain. The two of you had exchanged comm frequencies, and there were already tentative plans in place for the two of you to see a holofilm together sometimes, but nothing was set in stone. He knew his brothers weren’t going to let him off without interrogating him when he stepped through the doorway, so he also prepared what he was going to say.

And like he expected, Omega was the only one not waiting for him when he opened the door. The rest of the team was sitting at the table, as if they were waiting for him, and the questions began to spill out of his brothers’ mouths.

“How was it?”

“Did you like her?”

“Are you going on another date?”

“We were right, weren’t we?”

Crosshair took a seat at the table and waited for the rapid fire questioning to stop. “It wasn’t terrible.”

Hunter scoffed. “Come on, you’ve got to give us more than that!”

“No, I don’t actually,” he said. “You all forced me to do this and now it’s done.”

Echo spoke next. “At least tell us if you’re going to go out again with her, then we’ll leave you alone.”

Crosshair sighed. He wanted to lie, but he knew that eventually the truth would find a way to worm its way out into the open, and the teasing would be worse then. “Nothing is confirmed, but maybe.”

“YES!”

“I knew it!”

“You all owe me 10 credits now!”

In the midst of his brothers’ joy, the sound of his comm device beeping distracted Crosshair. He looked down to see a message from a new frequency, which he immediately knew must be you.

If you were serious about going to a holofilm, do you want to see one with me tomorrow?

He couldn’t help but smile as he typed out an affirmative reply, and that tiny change in his expression did not go unnoticed by Hunter. “Aww look Echo, Crosshair’s in loooooooove!”

“Shut up,” was the sniper’s response, but he didn’t refute the statement.

Maybe these matchmaker services really did work after all. 

- 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!

#tcw matchmaking au #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #clone trooper x reader

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Commander Mayday illustration by @nika6q

A Match for Mayday: Chapter 1

Editor's note: This fic is a collaboration between @nika6q (artwork) and @dystopicjumpsuit (story)

Pairing: Mayday x Flower Farmer Reader 

Rating: T

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings and tags: fluff

A/N: dedicated to @nika6q ❤️‍🩹

Read Chapter 2 here!

Your sister has always had immaculate taste. From her gorgeous flat in a Coruscant high-rise, to the handsome trooper currently staring down at her with adoration in his soft brown eyes as she wraps her arm around his waist, to the selection of high-quality brews in the conservator which you are currently raiding, she has curated a beautiful life for herself. She’s been your best friend since the day she was born, and you couldn’t be happier for her. You didn’t have an easy childhood, and seeing your little sister settled and thriving is everything you had hoped for her during those difficult days. 

Her boyfriend—no, make that fiancé—practically worships her. As you watch them through the sliding glass door, you realize you’ve never seen her look as content as she does in that moment, smiling softly up at Hexx. Unbeknownst to you, an identical smile plays on your own lips as you close the conservator door. Just as you do, a latecomer enters the kitchen, and you turn automatically to greet him, your eyes widening as you take him in. 

He’s a clone, but damn, what a clone. He looks older than Hexx and most of his brothers, though that might be due to his beard and longer hair. He’s tall and solidly built, and even in civilian clothing, he looks imposing. His long sleeves are rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle, with a hint of tattoo ink peeking from the edge of the fabric.

“Hello,” you greet him, that soft smile still in place as you introduce yourself.

“Mayday,” he replies, and his voice is deeper and and more gravelly than you’ve heard from other clones. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

Up close, you can see faint lines around his eyes, and a sprinkle of silver in his hair. Definitely older than Hexx, then. 

“Can I get you a beer?” you offer. “Or are you a whiskey man?”

“A beer sounds great, thanks,” he says, and you hand him the cold bottle you just pulled out of the conservator. His fingers brush against yours, soft and warm, and his eyes follow you as you turn to pull another bottle out of the conservator. “How do you know Hexx and Sunni?”

“Sunni is my sister,” you reply.

“I thought I saw the resemblance,” he says. “Why aren’t you out partying with the others?”

“Just came in for a drink,” you reply. He arches an eyebrow, and you buckle immediately under his unspoken interrogation. “And to hide for a few minutes.”

“Now, why would you want to hide?” he asks, tapping his bottle against yours and taking a long sip.

You shrug. “Not a huge fan of crowds. They make me nervous.”

“You must hate living on Coruscant, then,” he says.

“I would if I lived here,” you reply.

“You’re not local?” he asks, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining the hint of regret in his tone.

“No, I live on Nakadia,” you reply. “I’m only on Corrie for the engagement party.”

“Nakadia?” he asks. “Then you must be the farmer.”

“Yes, I own a flower farm there,” you reply. “How did you know?”

“Hexx told me they were having the wedding at your farm. You’re a brave woman to agree to host that many clones for a party,” he says with a charming smile.

“I’d do anything for Sunni,” you reply. “But I have to admit it’s weird to think that she’s getting married when I still see the adorable little girl with fluffy hair and a face covered in jelly when I look at her.”

“I know the feeling,” Mayday says with an ironic twist of his mouth. “We do what we can for them, but in the end, we have to trust them to know what they’re doing.”

“Hexx seems like a good man,” you say tentatively. “And he makes her happy.”

“Have you known him long?” he asks.

“I’d only spoken to him on holocalls until I got to Corrie three days ago,” you reply. “What about you? Did you serve with him?”

Mayday nods. “I’m his commanding officer, at least for the moment. I can tell you that there’s not a more loyal soldier in the GAR. He’ll take good care of your sister.”

“When you say ‘for the moment,’ what does that mean? Is he being reassigned?” you ask curiously. Sunni hadn’t mentioned it.

“Not to my knowledge,” he replies. “But I am retiring.”

He seems too young to be retiring, but there is a weariness about his eyes that makes you think he’s earned it.

“What will you do then?” you ask, relaxing back against the countertop.

Mayday mimics your laid-back posture, leaning against the wall as he answers. “Haven’t decided yet. I might just spend some time enjoying being the only person in charge of my time.”

“You’re not going to rush down to RTL to find the love of your life?” you ask, a teasing light springing into your eyes.

“Nah, not for me,” he replies. “I’d prefer to meet somebody organically.”

“Understandable,” you reply. “Though it certainly worked out well for Sunni and Hexx.”

“And what about you?” he asks.

“What about me?” You take a sip of beer and enjoy its icy effervescence on your tongue.

“Any plans to visit the matchmaker?”

“I’m not really interested,” you admit.

Mayday nods slightly, his eyes unreadable. “So you’re taken, then?”

The door slides open abruptly, and Sunni bursts in like the force of nature that she truly is, tugging Hexx behind her.

“Are you hiding in here?” she demands with an infectious laugh. 

“Of course not!” you lie with dignity. “I was entertaining your guest.”

“Welcome, Commander,” Hexx says, subtly standing at attention.

“Relax, Hexx. You don’t need to salute me at your own engagement party,” Mayday says with that easy, charming smile.

Hexx and Sunni sweep you back outside to join the rest of the party goers before you get a chance to tell Mayday that you are very single.

Months pass before you see Mayday again. Sunni is swept up in wedding plans, and you head back to Nakadia to tend to your farm. There’s plenty to do, between your normal responsibilities and the additional work of getting the property ready to host a large wedding. If you think Sunni is a social butterfly, she pales in comparison to Hexx and his multitude of brothers. Sunni is going to have the largest family-in-law in the galaxy, and it seems like half the GAR will be attending the wedding, along with their plus-ones, most of whom had met through Right to Love Matchmaking. Several of the matchmakers are also invited, and you hope they aren’t so dedicated to their work that they will harass you to sign up for their services. 

A few weeks before the wedding, Sunni and Hexx arrive with a large contingent of clones to help with the labor of getting the farm ready for such a large gathering. Veetch is there, of course, along with numerous members of the 77th Heavy Brigade. 

And, of course, Mayday is there. 

It takes an unbelievable amount of work to get the farm ready, but given that Hexx has quite literally brought a small army to help, it goes faster than you expect. The entire first day is spent clearing brush to make space for the large pavilion where the reception will take place. It is dirty, sweaty, backbreaking work, even with the help of the droids. You are exhausted at the end of the day, and after taking a quick shower, you make your way out to the front porch to watch the sunset. It’s your favorite vantage point, and it’s a nightly ritual that you almost never miss.

Tonight, though, someone has already claimed your spot. His tall, broad form leans casually against the pillar as he surveys your lovely farm. In the golden light of early sunset, you pick up the glints of lighter brown and gold in his dark hair, and for an instant, you wonder what it would feel like to twine your fingers through it. On impulse, you stop in the kitchen and pull two bottles of ale out of your conservator. You join him and offer him a bottle wordlessly. He nods his thanks and goes back to staring out at the kaleidoscopic fields of flowers. 

You didn’t see much of him today. He has been busy working on a special project in the barn, and his sleeves are littered with a fine layer of wood shavings. Your knees creak a little as you lower yourself to sit on the porch step, and soon he joins you. 

“Nice place you have here,” he says at last, breaking the evening serenity. “Peaceful.”

“That’s what drew me here,” you reply.

He looks at you curiously. “Trying to avoid crowds?”

You nod, not wanting to spoil the tranquility of the moment by delving into your personal history. “It’s a good place to live a quiet life.”

“That sounds…” he begins, but he trails off. 

His eyes have a faraway expression, and you wonder what horrors he’s seen to make him look so karking tired. He doesn’t continue, and you don’t prod him. Instead, you quietly watch the sun paint the sky in a wash of pastel. As the light fades and the dusk creeps in, you exchange occasional desultory remarks, but mostly you sit in companionable silence, drinking slowly and simply enjoying each other’s nearness.

“It’s a good place for a wedding,” he observes.

“Yes, I always thought if I ever got married, it would be here.” You smile. “I wouldn’t want the big party, though. Just a few people. Sunni and Hexx, a few close friends. A simple ceremony, and then a cozy dinner party under those trees,” you say, gesturing at the nearby copse of acthorn trees.

“You’ve thought it out,” he observes.

You let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “Kind of hard not to with everything going on.”

“That’s fair,” he says. “I never thought much about weddings. Didn’t think it would be a possibility.”

“Is this the first you’ve been to?” you ask curiously.

He shakes his head. “The matchmakers have been busy. Half of the commanders have paired up, and the other half are just waiting for their turn.”

“But not you?”

He shrugs. “Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending, until it did. By then, it seemed a little late to start planning a life I never thought I’d have.”

You frown. “It’s not too late. You’ve earned that life, Mayday.”

“Maybe,” he acknowledges. “But I won’t find it on a speed date.”

He’s waiting for you the next night, too, and the one after. Each evening, you open up more to him, and the two of you spend hours conversing in low voices late into the night.

“How many kinds of flowers do you grow?” he asks as he looks out across the vibrant patchwork of blossoms that stretches to the edge of your farm.

“Hundreds,” you reply. “Not all at once. I stagger the plantings to extend the growing season and keep the income a little more predictable.”

“Which ones are your favorite?”

“Fire lilies,” you reply. “They’re unpopular with buyers, but I still grow a patch of them just for myself.”

“I’ve never seen one,” he says.

“Would you like to?”

“Very much,” he replies.

You stand slowly. You’re accustomed to hard work, but the past few days have been a whole other level of manual labor. A tiny moan of relief escapes you as you stretch your tired muscles. When you turn to Mayday, he is watching you with an indecipherable expression. He’s very good at that, you’ve noticed. Sometimes he is very open and easy to read, and others he is incredibly guarded. He must be an excellent sabbac player, you reflect.

With a small smile at the thought, you lead him through the twilight into the garden. In the fading purple light, the lush perfume of the lilies surrounds you in a sweet, heady cloud.

“May I pick one?” he asks.

“Of course,” you reply. 

Most people don’t bother to ask, and you never realized how much it bothered you until Mayday’s courtesy reminds you that you have a right to say no. He plucks a blossom carefully, reverently, making sure not to damage the rest of the plant. 

“They’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “I can see why they’re your favorite. Why don’t buyers like them?”

“They don’t last long once they’re picked,” you reply. “It makes transporting them tricky.”

“Then I’m sorry I picked this one,” he says.

“Don’t be,” you reply. “There will be more tomorrow.”

The sun has fully set now, and his dark eyes reflect the pale light of the moons. He examines the blossom closely, taking in the graceful curves of the petals, the striations and speckles at the center, the delicate filaments of the stamens. His eyes rise to your face, and his hands follow nearly unconsciously. His knuckles brush subtly against your cheek as he tucks the flower into your hair. Your mouth suddenly feels very dry, and you swallow without meaning to.

“Beautiful,” he repeats.

---

Read Chapter 2 here!

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #Commander Mayday #other clones

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Of Frogs and Clones

Hardcase x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Liquid

Summary: It's the clone's last night in the barracks together as soldiers and Hardcase drinks a mysterious liquid from Jesse's duffle that turns him into a frog. With the help of his brothers and the Right To Love Matchmaking service, they work against the clock to find him "true love's kiss" and turn him back into a human.

Pairing: Hardcase x Fem!Reader

Characters: Hardcase, Jesse, Kix, Rex, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma

Tags & Warnings: matchmaking!au, fluff, humor, strange magic, clone shenanigans, unconventional love story, dialogue heavy

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: My first entry for the @tcwmatchmakingau! This series is pure fun and ridiculousness. There's no angst, no hurt, no underlying themes, and no deep meanings. Only utter nonsense. Reader and RTL are not in the first chapter. I know I have other series to finish, but I needed to cross off another bingo square first 😅 As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Mystery

Chapter 1

The Clone Wars have finally drawn to a close, leaving the remaining clones in a precarious spot of facing the unknown civilian life before them. To aid in their assimilation, the senate passed legislation to give clones official citizenship status, government subsidized housing, a credit stipend, and help with job placement. Tonight is their last night sleeping in the barracks and as they pack their belongings and prepare for life outside of the GAR, things get a little hectic.

“What do you think it’s going to be like?” Jesse asks while pulling things out of his overstuffed duffle.

“Dunno,” Hardcase answers as he stares at the bunk above him, hands laced behind his head. His duffle doesn’t have much in it, so he finished packing a while ago.

“I bet it’s going to be fun,” Fives smiles while throwing his things haphazardly into his duffle. “No rules, no regulations, no chain of command.”

Echo stops folding his blacks and grimaces at the thought. “That sounds awful.”

“Lighten up,” Tup playfully punches Echo’s shoulder. “We can finally do whatever we want.”

“I’m with Echo,” Dogma adds. “A bunch of people doing whatever they want sounds chaotic. Where’s the order?”

“We make our own order,” Kix chimes in. “We follow the laws and do the right thing. Like we’ve always done.”

“What if we mess up?” Echo wonders, a twinge of apprehension in his voice. “I don’t want to be court-martialed on day one.”

“You can’t be court-martialed if you’re a civilian,” Fives chuckles. “But if you do mess up… Then Fox will get you!” Fives jumps on Echo’s back for dramatic effect.

Echo groans and pushes Fives off while the rest of the group laughs.

“As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine,” Jesse reassures.

Murmurs of agreements resound through the barracks and they resume organizing what little belongings they have.

Hardcase rolls onto his side and watches Jesse attempt to pack his duffle bag so that the zipper will close. He’s still unsure how Jesse accumulated so much junk over the past few years. The ARC has a souvenir from almost every planet he’s ever been on. Even after everyone else is done packing, Jesse is still sifting through his things, picking which ones to take with him and which ones to leave behind. He pulls out a bottle of green liquid and places it on the ground.

“What’s that?” Hardcase asks while pointing at the bottle.

“I’m not sure,” Jesse answers. He picks up the bottle and inspects it for a second before setting it back down. “It was given to me by a local at the beginning of the war. I must have forgotten about it.”

“Is it alcohol?” Hardcase asks curiously. He sits up in his bunk and grabs the bottle off the floor, tilting it from side to side to watch the strange liquid slosh around.

“Maybe,” Jesse shrugs. “I couldn’t understand the local language and I never opened it to try it.”

Hardcase wonders what it could be as he continues to turn the bottle in different directions, completely mesmerized by its shimmering contents. “Can I drink it?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jesse says.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kix warns. He swipes the bottle from Hardcase’s hands.

“Hey,” Hardcase pouts. He sits back down on his bunk and crosses his arms. “That’s mine.”

“Technically–”

“You don’t know what’s in it,” Kix interrupts Jesse’s rebuttal to give a warning. “It could be poisonous.”

“We won’t know that unless we try it,” Hardcase argues.

“Listen,” Kix sighs. “We’re one night away from being free men. I’m not going to let a bottle of suspicious liquid ruin that for you.”

“Isn’t that my choice now?” Hardcase questions.

“Not until 05:00,” Rex chimes in. Upon hearing their captain's voice, all of the Torrent Company stops what they’re doing and stands to attention.

In preparation for their official discharge from the GAR, Rex spent the entire day with the senate and a specialized CCL (civilian clone liaison) to make sure that his men’s transition was taken care of and that it would be as smooth as possible. He meticulously worked each clone’s case with the CCL to approve their housing, their new identichips, and their credit stipends. It was an exhausting process, but his signature was required on every form in the assimilation packets.

“At ease men,” Rex says.

“So,” Fives begins with anticipation. “What’s the word?”

Rex smiles and reveals a stack of identichips. “It’s official.”

Rex walks around to each one of his men and hands them their new identichip. The clones take them eagerly and marvel with wonder at the digital cards with their chosen names and faces inscribed on them. Not a CT number in sight. The excitement in the room is almost too much for the clones to contain. Whispers and wide-eyes turn into hollers, whoops, and hugs. They’re now official citizens of Coruscant and have the same rights as any other citizen.

“Settle down and listen up!” Rex exclaims. “These identichips are your key to life. Do not lose them. They will go into effect at 05:00 tomorrow morning, so until then, you are still under my command.”

The clones stop their chatter and nod their heads in understanding.

“Tomorrow, you’ll be free men,” he starts, “and I will no longer be your captain, but your friend. You’ll be able to make your own choices, live your own lives, and decide your own destinies.” Rex pauses and shifts his weight. “Help each other, help others, and be good citizens.” Rex pauses one more time, his voice wavering with emotion. “It truly has been an honor to serve alongside the finest men in the galaxy.”

The barrack of clones erupts with the sound of clapping and whistling. Rex takes in the moment before he puts up his hand to quiet the men and pull out his data-pad.

“A couple more things,” he begins while scrolling through a list. “Housing assignments have been allocated and your new addresses can be found on your identichips. The apartments are fully furnished, but you’ll have to buy your own clothes, food, and any extra comforts. Credit stipends will be automatically deposited monthly into your bank account until you gain employment. You can keep your armor, but they have asked that you not wear it in public. You are also allowed to own a single DC-17 hand blaster, but it must be registered with the Coruscant Police and tied to your identichips. Any questions?”

Hardcase raises his hand, a look of concern painting his face. “So, I can’t keep my Z-6?”

“No, you can’t,” Rex answers. “Anything that was considered infantry or heavy weaponry cannot be owned by civilians and must be turned in to the Coruscant Police. It was difficult enough to convince them to let us keep a single hand blaster.”

Hardcase plops onto his bunk and crosses his arms while grumbling to himself. That Z-6 was his best friend during the war and now he has to give it up. It really is a shame.

“Any other questions?” Rex asks as he scans the room. “Alright then. Get a good night's sleep and I’ll touch base with you in the morning.”

As Rex leaves the barracks, more chatter erupts amongst the clones. They are both excited and nervous to get their new lives started. The jitters are evident and no one is sure they can actually sleep tonight. They’re like children on Christmas Eve, wanting to stay up late and wait for their presents to arrive instead of sleeping. The anticipation is too much to contain. However, once curfew rolls around, the clones have to turn out the lights and at least try to go to sleep.

The clones all nestle into their bunks for one last night and fall into dreams of what their new lives will be like. Well, everyone that is except for Hardcase. He’s lying awake, staring up at the bunk above him and feeling restless. He’s still thinking about that bottle of green liquid Kix took away from him. He’s not sure what it is about that mysterious bottle that has him so enraptured. Maybe it’s the color, or the way the liquid moves from one end of the glass bottle to the other.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Hardcase decides he wants the bottle back. He waits a couple of hours, and when he hears some of his brothers snoring, he quietly gets out of his bunk and meanders his way to Kix’s bunk. Kix is sleeping on his stomach, one hand under his shirt and the other stretched out over his pillow, with his leg hanging off the side with the blanket falling off. Hardcase shakes his head. He’ll never understand how Kix finds that sleeping position comfortable.

He waves his hand near Kix’s face, checking to make sure he is asleep, then crouches down to look through his duffle. He quietly rummages around, being careful not to knock anything too far out of place, and eventually finds the little glass bottle of green liquid under a pack of gauze. He picks it up, smiles, and admires the bottle like it’s a precious jewel. He puts Kix’s duffle back together, brings the bottle back to his bunk, then looks around to make sure no one saw him.

Once he knows he’s alone and the only one awake, Hardcase pulls the cork off the top of the bottle and it makes a loud popping sound. He winces at the unexpected noise as it echoes through the barracks, then looks around to make sure no one woke up. He relaxes his shoulders and sighs when no one stirs. He looks into the glass bottle and swishes the green liquid around. It’s a shame to drink it when it’s so pretty, but he has to know what it tastes like.

“Bottoms up,” he whispers to himself. He knocks the drink back like a shot and swallows. His face scrunches at the bitter aftertaste and he makes an audible noise of disgust. “Yuck! Definitely not alcohol.”

Disappointed in the gross tasting drink, Hardcase flops back onto his bunk and sighs. He doesn’t feel any different, so it’s probably not poison. If he had to venture a guess, it’s probably some type of tribal medicine native to the planet Jesse got it from. Medicine is the only thing he’s ever tasted that matches that level of bitterness, and he hates medicine. He shutters at the residual taste in the back of his throat, then tucks himself into his bunk to finally go to sleep.

As dawn breaks and the light of the morning peeks into the barracks, Jesse stirs in his bunk. He stretches his limbs and yawns while sitting up, then breathes a contented sigh when he remembers that today is the day he’s a free man. He looks around the sunlit room and sees the rest of the clones stirring as their internal alarm clocks activate. Excited to get moving, he slides down the back ladder of the bunk, his bare feet hitting the barrack’s cold floor with a dull thud.

Jesse looks at Hardcase’s bunk, which sits right beneath his, but his brother is not in it. “Has anyone seen Hardcase?”

“Not since lights out,” Echo answers while stretching his arms.

“I haven’t seen him either,” Tup yawns.

“Got me,” Kix shrugs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fives catches the blanket on Hardcase’s bunk move. “Did anyone else see that?”

“See what?” Dogma asks while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Fives stares at the blanket and watches it move again. He points his finger at the lump in the center. “That!”

“What do you think it is?” Jesse asks as he moves to stand next to Fives.

“I don’t know,” Fives tilts his head to the side as he thinks.

“Only one way to find out,” Echo says as he grabs the corner of the blanket and rips it off, revealing what is underneath.

“It’s a… frog?” Kix raises an eyebrow at Fives.

“Don’t look at me!” Fives puts up his hands in defense. “I didn’t put it there.”

“Guys, it’s me,” a voice says.

The group of clones whip around looking for the source of the voice.

“That sounds like Hardcase,” Jesse says. “But I don’t see him.”

“Down here,” the voice says.

Tup crouches down on the ground and looks under the bunk, but there’s no one there.

“Too far,” the voice says. “On the bunk.”

Tup slowly peeks up from his crouched position and looks at the frog sitting on the bunk. They stare at each other for a moment.

“Hey,” the frog says.

“Ah!” Tup startles and crashes backwards into the adjacent bunk. “That frog just talked!”

Dogma rolls his eyes. “Frogs don’t talk.”

“I'm telling you that frog talked,” Tup argues.

Jesse snorts. “Tup, I think you’ve lost a few marbles.”

“You're the one who’s lost his marbles,” the frog says as it jumps from the bunk onto Jesse’s arm.

“Ah!” Jesse jerks and flings the frog off his arm.

“Catch it!” Tup yells.

Kix catches the frog in his hands and examines it curiously. It looks like a regular bullfrog to him. Mottled olive-green mucus-covered skin, a dull-yellow belly, raised eyes, short little forelegs, and long-webbed hind legs. The only strange thing about this bullfrog is the blue lines going down the left side of its body. He’s never seen a bullfrog with blue stripes before, but then again, he doesn’t claim to be an expert in frog species. Kix brings the frog closer to his face to look at the lines.

“Hi Kix,” the frog says.

Kix startles and opens his hands, dropping the talking frog onto the floor of the barracks.

“Hey!” the frog says. “Watch it!”

Fives kneels down in front of the frog. “Hardcase?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Hardcase sighs.

“You’re a frog!” Fives exclaims as he picks him up.

“I noticed,” Hardcase says.

“How is that even possible?” Echo questions in bewilderment.

“I don’t know,” Hardcase says. “I just woke up like this. I had a heck of a time trying to find my way out of that blanket though. Thanks.”

“Kix?” Dogma looks at the shocked medic for an explanation.

“Don’t ask me,” Kix raises his hands. “There’s nothing in the medical texts about clones turning into frogs.”

Jesse looks at the frog, that is Hardcase, and narrows his eyes. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean, ‘what did I do’?” Hardcase retorts as he jumps from Fives’ hands to Jesse’s.

Jesse cups his hands together to catch Hardcase. “Kix is right, clones don’t just turn into frogs,” he says. "What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Hardcase shouts. “I just woke up like this. I’m as lost as you are!”

Kix gets curious and looks around Hardcase’s bunk area. He rifles through his duffle bag and grabs the empty bottle. He takes a deep breath, straightens up, and crosses his arms. “You drank it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hardcase chuckles nervously. “I forgot about that.”

Kix grabs Hardcase out of Jesse’s hands, encircling his fingers around Hardcase’s stomach as his long hind legs dangle down freely. He brings Hardcase’s little frog face close to his. “You idiot!"

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” Hardcase argues as he squirms to escape Kix’s grasp.

Kix closes his eyes and rubs his forehead with his free hand. “If you would've waited one rotation, I could have done an analysis!”

“Oops,” Hardcase says.

“Oops?” Kix scowls. “That’s all you have to say for yourself, oops? You’re a kriffing frog!”

Hardcase tries to roll his eyes, then spits out his tongue and whacks Kix’s nose to shut him up.

Kix scrunches his face in disgust, pulls Hardcase away, and places him back in Jesse’s hands.

“He’s your problem now,” Kix says as he wipes the slime off of his nose.

“Me?” Jesse protests as he looks between Hardcase and Kix. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

“I don’t know,” Kix says. “Figure it out.”

“Can someone please explain to me what is going on?” Dogma asks in confusion. “I’m so lost.”

“Hardcase drank some weird liquid and it turned him into a frog,” Fives recounts.

Dogma takes a moment to digest Fives’ words. “You’re joking, right?”

“Wait!” Tup interjects. “I’ve heard about this before.”

Everyone turns to look at Tup. “You have?” the group asks in unison.

“Yes!” Tup says. “I read it in a holo-book once.”

“Since when do you read?” Dogma asks with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you read before.”

Tup shoots Dogma an unamused look. “I did when I was a cadet.”

“So, what did the holo-book say?” Jesse eagerly asks.

Tup thinks for a moment. “There were a couple different stories. I can’t remember if this is the one where he’ll turn into a pumpkin at midnight or fall asleep and never wake up. Either way he needs a true love’s kiss to turn him back into a human.”

Silence fills the room.

“Jesse?” Hardcase asks while looking up at him.

“Yes,” Jesse answers while looking down at him.

“I don’t like squash,” Hardcase says.

Jesse sighs. “Then we’ll hope for the ‘sleep and never wake up’ one.”

Hardcase turns to face Tup. “So, if I get a girl to kiss me, I’ll turn back into a man?”

“According to the stories,” Tup explains. “Except it can’t be any random kiss. It has to be a true love’s kiss.”

“What’s the difference?” Hardcase asks.

Tup knits his eyebrows. “Not really sure to be honest.”

“Amateurs,” Fives says. “True love is when you love someone more than anyone else.”

“Oh,” Hardcase says. “I still don’t get it.”

Fives sighs. “You need to get a girl to fall in love with you.”

“In three days!” Tup interjects.

Fives nods his head. “Yes, in three day– Wait, what?”

“I think,” Tup says. “That might have been the seafoam story.”

“Can we focus on the frog story please?” Jesse says with exasperation.

“Does it really matter?” Hardcase asks. 

“Yes, it matters!” Jesse exclaims. “We don’t need you dying on us!”

The room goes silent at the words that everyone is thinking, but no one wants to say. As funny as the situation is, they really have no idea what will happen to him and it has them all worried. They're finally free men, but that freedom won’t mean much if one of them is missing from it. They can’t replace Hardcase and they don’t want to think about enjoying their new lives without him. Regardless of how dumb his action was, they all need to work together to try and save him.

“I think we should tell Rex,” Echo says. “Maybe he can–”

“Maybe he can do what?” Dogma interjects. “Look it up in a reg manual?”

Echo huffs. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“And we appreciate it,” Kix places a hand on Echo’s shoulder. “I agree with him. The next course of action is to tell Rex and then work together to turn him back to normal.”

As Kix finishes his sentence, Rex enters the barracks. The group of clones mumble amongst themselves on how they’ll break the news to their captain that one of his men is no longer a man, but a frog. It sounds like a joke, and maybe it is, but this is their reality at the moment and lying is not an option. They think about hiding Hardcase and telling Rex at a later time, but they can’t come up with a good excuse as to why he isn’t in the barracks and where he is.

“Morning,” Rex happily greets the clones with a smile.

Jesse hides Hardcase behind his back.

“Morning, captain,” Kix says.

Rex chuckles. “It’s just Rex now.”

“Oh, right,” Kix rubs his neck in embarrassment. “That’s gonna be an adjustment.”

“Are you boys ready to check out your new home?” Rex asks with excitement.

The room stays silent.

Rex furrows his brows. “Don’t everyone jump up at once…”

The room is still silent.

Rex puts his hands on his hips. “Alright, spit it out. What’s going on?”

“We have a slight problem,” Fives says.

Rex sighs. “What did you do this time?”

“It wasn’t Fives,” Echo answers quickly.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Rex mumbles under his breath. “Then what is it?”

Jesse brings his hands around from his back to show Rex the frog.

Rex is confused. “Okay… It’s a frog. I don’t get it.”

“Hi Rex,” Hardcase says.

Rex jumps. “Kriffing stars! Did that thing just talk?”

“That thing,” Kix begins, “is Hardcase.”

“What?!” Rex asks, his mouth hung open in shock.

The group of clones explain to Rex the events leading up to this point. Rex listens intently, but maintains a bewildered expression on his face. He’s not surprised at Hardcase’s actions, but he’s not once in his life ever heard of a man changing into a frog. He wonders if the green bottle of liquid was some kind of magic potion. Unfortunately, Jesse can’t remember which planet it came from, so researching it is out. Rex ends up agreeing with the only other option, true love’s kiss.

“First things first,” Rex starts. “Let’s get moved out of the barracks and into our new apartments. Then we can strategize a plan of attack.”

The group of clones nod in agreement and disperse to grab their belongings. Jesse puts Hardcase down on his bunk while he grabs his things.

“Oh, and Hardcase,” Rex squats down to look Hardcase in his little frog eyes. “Don’t get squashed in the meantime.”

“Yes, sir,” Hardcase sighs.

Chapter 1

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[littlemissmanga]

Date Night Pt 4

Pairing: Dogma x F!OC (Yen Ori'ken)

Rating: G

Warnings: Self-doubt/negative self thinking (by Dogma)

W/C: 4,025 (literally longer than the other 3 parts combined. Sorry that's what took so long!)

Summary: No O66 AU. Right to Love Matchmaking is a service to help clone troopers assimilate into civvie society and kick start their romantic lives following the reveal of Palpatine as a sith and the end of the Galactic Civil War. Dogma, reassigned to the 501st but dealing with lingering trauma from Umbara, never intended to utilize their services, committing himself to being the perfect solider he feels he failed to be before. That is, until Captain Rex intervenes, introducing the reluctant trooper to another stubborn force of nature: Matchmaker Yen Ori'ken.

Date Night: Part 1 (Rex x Reader), Part 2 (Cody x Reader), Part 3 (Dogma x F!OC. Only Part 3 needed to understand Pt 4). Right to Love AU Page

It was the best date she had ever been on.

And she hated herself for enjoying it.

Yen had lost objectivity. The very trap she knew to avoid, the pitfall over which she had built a scaffolding of professionalism to protect against. Guilt gnawed at her stomach, making it churn uncomfortably as she looked through another batch of profiles.

And as much as she wanted to follow her kneejerk reaction and blame Daria for the hair-brained idea to go on a date with a client, Yen knew the fault lay solely within herself.

And possibly a little with Dogma.

It was insidious, just a tiny flutter at the way he had used his body to help her move through the crowd. It was a small gesture, barely anything. Something she’d smile knowingly at if a client had mentioned it to her after one of their own dates.

But no one had ever done anything like that for her. Not once. Not even on a real first date. In fact, looking back on her, admittedly sparce, dating history, Yen couldn’t think of a single previous boyfriend who had ever done anything remotely chivalrous.

No one who’s gentle hand and quiet guidance made her ever feel so … precious. Worth the effort of protection.

Honestly, if any had, she probably would have looked at them as if they had grown another limb. She never liked being treated as if she were incompetent, unable to handle herself without assistance in public.

But with Dogma, it didn’t feel like that at all.

A slow, sweet heat crawled over the tops of her cheeks as she remembered the warmth of his body against hers. He didn’t steer her or make a show of his actions. He just silently helped her, giving her a little more space in the crush of bodies, a little more room to move comfortably. His hand on her back wasn’t controlling. It was warm and gentle, a soothing reassurance.

That’s all. That’s it. But the kind consideration rocked her deep. The fact that she knew that Dogma had no expectations of her beyond her doing her job made the warm feeling settle in Yen’s core.

She tried to ignore it at first, but as the night continued, it only got worse. Relieved of the propriety of their previously formal interactions and released from expectations himself, Dogma bloomed before her, revealing his dry humor and kind heart in between performances.

A gentle man who had wrapped himself in steel to keep himself and others safe.

Yen now understood why all those women were so broken hearted over failing to secure a second date.  For one brief night, all of that was focused on her.

And she hated how much she wanted it to happen again.

Because it couldn’t. She knew that. He was her client and she promised to do right by him. Her professionalism demanded it and Dogma deserved nothing less.

Of course, that was her other problem.

It had been two weeks since their faux date and Dogma was still refusing to meet anyone for a second time, forcing Yen to sort through even more potential matches for him than before, hating that the next one she reaches out to could be the reason she will cut ties with Dogma.

Worse, she hated how the jealousy settled thick and heavy in her gut. It was pulling her down and with each profile she sent, she could feel it constricting within her.

She needed to purge it to regain some semblance of sanity. Usually, an issue of this caliber would have her trudging into Daria’s office for her out-of-the-box ideas that are usually just crazy enough to work.

But not this time. Not if it meant admitting to the soft flutter that was slowly turning to bitterness inside her.

And, her initial reaction aside, she didn’t want Dar taking any of this on her own shoulders.

Wait a minute! That’s it!

The solution she needed was staring her right in the face! She may not be able to control her little crush, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t still uphold her commitment to her profession and to Dogma.

With renewed optimism quieting the churn of her nerves, if only a little, Yen composed one more message.

Dear Dogma, In light of our lack of progress in finding you a partner, I think it prudent for us to meet face to face again. I apologize for being forward, but I’ve canceled your scheduled date tomorrow evening so we can discuss a clear solution and direction forward. Let’s meet then at the café from our first encounter. Thank you for your time, Yen

Her writing always came across more formal than she really spoke. Or maybe it was her tone that softened the words to his ears when he heard her directly.

But Dogma could tell even through the text that Yen was angry when she wrote the comm message. And he didn’t blame her.

Sitting on his bed in the barracks on Coruscant, Dogma ran a hand through his regulation-cut hair, for once uncaring how a few errant curls escaped the careful style. Ever since he realized his feelings for her, he was stuck. He was still unable to connect with any of his dates, but Yen’s next-day questioning morphed from feeling supportive to invasive, probing as if she could sense he was hiding something.

He could tell she was growing more frustrated with his non-answers.

The thought made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He never wanted to disappoint her. But he couldn’t — wouldn’t — lie to her or these other women and pull them all into his mess.

But you’ll lie to keep them out of it, he thought bitterly.

“Damn another in-person meeting?” Fives’ voice rang right in his ear.

“Kriff, Fives! Haven’t you heard it’s rude to read other people’s comms?” Dogma growled.

His brother ignored his righteous indignation. “I know finding someone who’ll accept the planet-sized stick up your ass is a tall order, but I never would have thought Yen would struggle this much.”

“Kark off, sha’buir.”

Fives’ hand came down hard on his shoulder and while Dogma knew his brother’s teasing was well-intended, he couldn’t handle the unique combination of arrogance and optimism that fueled the ARC trooper. With a shrug, he flung it off, and Fives pulled back, hands in front of him in surrender.

“Sorry, vod. Just trying to help lighten the mood.”

“Only you are used to being flattered by insults, Fives,” Tup said, no bite in his voice as he entered the barracks. “But seriously, Dogma, you look like you’ve just been assigned a suicide mission. I know this part is a lot to handle, but I think you’re thinking too hard. Yen will find someone. Trust her and the process and you’ll get through it.”

He could feel the truth bubbling up inside him, shifting his stomach uncomfortably as it rose up his throat.

“No, I won’t.”

It was a single drop of relief. Nowhere near satisfying … and enough to make him need more.

“Sure you will,” Fives assured, sincerity filling his tone despite his flippant delivery.

Tup rolled his eyes at the older trooper before sitting next to his squad mate. “He’s right, you know. Right to Love has had great success. I’m not as familiar with Yen, but I can’t imagine anyone else could have possibly helped Fives.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, go be insulted by something you didn’t say first,” Tup teased before turning back to Dogma. “But he is right. A few more dates and you’ll find someone who’s right for you.”

Dogma shook his head as it fell forward into his hands. “You don’t understand.” He felt Tup’s hand resting on his back, encouraging him without words. “I … I have found someone I connected with.”

“That’s great!” Tup’s cheer was short-lived as he saw Dogma’s grim expression didn’t budge. “But …?”

With a sigh, Dogma steeled himself against his brothers’ reaction. “But it’s Yen.”

Fives scoffed. “I know she’s tough as nails, but don’t take it personally. She’ll be pissed about the paperwork if you realized you liked a girl after you passed more than she’ll be put off by your indecision.”

“No, you nerfherder.” Dogma spat, unable to spare Fives any more patience. “It’s Yen. The person I connected with is Yen. When we went on our fake date, it … it just hit me.”

Both his brothers blinked owlishly in response, their twin expressions of surprise almost funny. But Dogma felt any tinge of humor fade the longer they stood there in silence. He dropped their gaze, head hanging in shame.

Tup’s hand moved up to his shoulder, gripping gently yet firmly to pull his brother up. “You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Of course it’s a bad thing. I can’t tell her about it, so I’m stuck going on dates I don’t want and know will fail, and now I can feel her getting frustrated as well. I’m lying to everyone and I can’t keep it up anymore!”

“Why do you have to?” Tup asked gently.

“Yeah, no reason why you can’t just tell Yen how you feel,” Fives added. “It’s not like it’s against regulations anymore.”

“No.” Dogma shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. She’s been nothing but kind and professional through everything. And this? This is highly unprofessional. I can’t even imagine how she’d react to a client crossing that kind of boundary with her.”

“Unless she wants you, too.”

“She doesn’t.”

“You know that for sure?”

“No, but …”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re ori’vod is an ARC! Advanced Reconnaissance Trooper, remember? I’ll do some sleuthing and –

“Not even over my dead body, Fives. I don’t want you within ten feet of this situation.”

“I have to agree with him here,” Tup shrugs softly. “This is for Dogma to sort out on his own.” He turned back to Dogma then. “But you should still tell her. You don’t know for sure. So she could return your feelings. And even if she doesn’t, then at least you won’t be stuck in limbo like this.”

The option did sound tempting, even if the shadow of Yen’s rejection chilled him to the bone.

But the thought that really frightened him was one of her saying yes. Like his confession, he could feel his self-doubt bubbling up and despite every instinct to keep it hidden, Dogma just didn’t have the fight left in him. Not in front of his brothers.

His voice was quiet, subdued as he gave words to the thoughts that polluted his mind. “But I’m defective. Why would she want someone like me when she could choose anyone else?”

“What!?”

Fives dropped to rest a knee on the bed on Dogma’s other side, his hand pulling him back and forcing him to meet his gaze.

“In what galaxy are you defective?”

“In the one where I was willing to let you get shot, where I executed a general, where I was literally almost decommissioned for being defective.”

“But you weren’t! Because you’re not!”

“I am!” The shout rang through the barracks, and even the reverberating echoes didn’t soften it. “I always have been.”

“No, Dogma, you’re not.” Tup’s hand came to rest on Dogma’s shoulder just as gently as his words had. “You’re uptight, anxious, and annoyingly strict at times. You over-analyze everything and are so obnoxious when things don’t go the way you want them to.

“You have a lot of flaws, brother, but they’re not defects.”

Before Dogma could refute anything, Fives chimed in.

“More than that, you’re also loyal to a fault. You bend over backwards for others just because it’s the right thing to do. You’re patient and kind and solid in a tight spot and I’m proud to fight beside you and call you my brother.

“You went against the regs on Umbara because the regs were wrong. They never were written for a situation where we couldn’t trust our leaders. And that was by design. The Kaminoans may have considered your actions there defective, but we don’t. We’re all here because you put an end to Krell, and that’s the only story I need to know.”

Fives moved to kneel in front of him, forcing Dogma to meet his gaze. And for once, he could see no tease or mirth at all in his brother’s eyes.

“I have a feeling Yen will see it that way, too.”

This time, Yen beat him to their meeting. Back at the café where they first met, he saw her sitting at the same table. Shoulders back, chin level as she read something on her datapad. Whatever it was had her complete attention as she mindlessly caught her lower lip between her teeth.

Dogma’s heart shook his ribs. This — seeing the battle ahead and being the one who needs to start it — was worse than sitting in that cell on the Resolute after Umbara. At least there, all he had to do was wait for his fate.

But the chance for an outcome he could never have conceived of lay on the other side. And the small, selfish part of his soul he never acknowledged refused to let him leave this alone.

And if it did, his brothers wouldn’t.

So now, everything rested on how well he executed his plan. Not that it was much of one. But it was the best he could do.

With one last calming breath — that did little to actually calm him — Dogma made his way to the table, clearing his throat as he pulled out his chair to announce himself.

 “Dogma!” Yen’s head popped up, surprise clear on her face as he sat. He knew his experience with things that could be considered “adorable” was close to non-existent, but there was no other way to quantify her expression. He let himself escape into that soft flutter for just a moment before reining it in.

He offered a sheepish smile in return. “Sorry, Ma- Yen. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries. It’s good to see you.” Yen’s small answering smile sent a spark of delight up the back of Dogma’s skull.

“Likewise.”

As Yen shifted in her seat, her sweet smile slipped away, and Dogma steeled himself as her professional persona took over.

“Thank you for meeting me again. I have to stay, I’m at a loss here and I don’t like it.” For once, Yen didn’t meet his gaze as she spoke, and Dogma found himself anticipating catching her eyes again. But each moment that past left him waiting.

“You’re perfectly wonderful to be around — which all your dates have said and I confirmed myself. I’d even say you’re quite the catch. And I know the matches I picked would relate well to you in their own ways. But you’ve been so tight-lipped about your experience on these dates that it’s making my job hard. I thought maybe an in-person vent session would help illuminate the situation. So what happened?”

Dogma’s gaze fell to his place setting. He liked that Yen didn’t beat around the push or press for small talk. He liked even more to hear her praise. But he didn’t expect her to rip the bacta patch off at the gate and it still stung.

He looked back up, finally able to meet Yen’s eyes and confess his sins … only for his plan, his prepared speech to fly out of his head the moment her bright, intense eyes locked on his.

Say. Something!

But as the seconds ticked by in silence, Yen’s lips pursed into what Dogma could only call a scowl only had the beast of his worry claw harder in his stomach. Bile bubbled, and it took all his strength not to retch.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you. But you can’t expect a campaign to be successful with shoddy intel, right? Well, that’s where I am right now. Finding you a partner is my campaign, and right now I’m planning a battle strategy blind since I don’t know why past attempts didn’t pan out.”

“No! No, it’s not you,” Dogma shakes his head. Stars, he was stupid. He expected her to see everything up until this point as his fault, his failure. He should have realized she’d mistake it for the other way around.  

Yen softened and reached out to rest her hand on his, and Dogma took no more than a second to thank the Force that Tup had convinced him to wear his civvies. Without his gloves, he could feel the soft warmth of her skin against his.

“Thank you for saying that. But your happiness is my goal, and I’m not seeing happy yet.” She paused then, clearly measuring her next words carefully. “Do I need to blacklist any of your dates?”

“What!?”

She looked positively shocked by his alarm, eyes wide as she sat back. “Of course. If anyoney did something inappropriate or that made you uncomfortable, then they’re not clients we can continue a relationship with. For everyone’s safety,” she explained.

“No, no they didn’t do anything like that. Please don’t kick them out.”

“OK.” Yen paused and collected herself. But hands that pulled back toward her body to press against the side of the table told a different story than her stoic exterior. Dogma focused on her hands, on that little display of nerves, feeling his own soar in step. “Well, if everything has been above board, then it’s likely that I am not the best matchmaker for you. It doesn’t happen often, but we do have procedures in place for situations like this.

The weight in his heart he had been battling since he first got Yen’s comm finally won out. He felt it sink into the pit of his stomach as his chest tightened. Felt his blood cooling in his veins.

Felt the déjà vu kick in as he recognized the moment was a precipice. Just like when he shot Krell. This moment, this choice, would change everything.

He survived a leap of faith once. Could he be lucky twice?

Yen opened her mouth to continue, but Dogma spoke over her, silencing her in a panicked rush. “What if I said I don’t want another random date?”

Her mouth hung open, confusion bleeding into her expression as her head tiled to the side, as if a different angle would reveal more to her. But her eyes remained sharp and steady on his.

“Random is sort of the nature of the game.” she said, the furrow in her brow deepening.

“Not … not if you say yes when I ask you on another date. A-A real one this time.”

The words hung heavy in the air. The following silence left him with nothing. Even her reaction left Dogma in limbo.

Yen sat across from him, looking neither joyful or repulsed. Rather her expression looked for all the galaxy like he just spoke an unknown language. Her head tilted to the side, eyebrows pinched together and her eyes bore into his, and he was sure she was looking into his very core.

It was unsettling and invasive and had every hair on his body standing at attention. But just like that first night, he wanted it. He craved it. For all the discomfort, there was a pleasure in having her focus so intensely on him. On only him.

Dogma wanted her to see into his depths and keep looking at him like he was someone worth seeing.

Finally, her voice shattered the silence, though it was softer than he had ever heard her, forcing him to lean in just to catch it. “You want to go on a date with me?”

He was sure the couple at the next table could hear him swallow, almost choking on his adrenaline as he nodded.

With a sigh, Yen leaned back into her chair before nodding as well. “Well, that changes things. Alright. I’ll need you to submit an official letter stating you’re terminating your previous agreement with Right to Love.”

And just like that, cold reality came crashing down on him. He imagined this is what being sucked into space without a kit felt like. Dogma felt the cracks forming and redoubled his efforts to keep his posture and face from crumbling.

Then, like a dunk in a bacta tank, Yen grabbed onto his hands and held them across the table.

“No! No, Dogma, not like that!” Her eyes were shining and wide with more emotion than he’d ever seen. A weakness in her façade finally showing itself and he devoured it hungrily, possessively indulging on her desperation. “We need to formally end our professional relationship before I can agree to a second date.”

“Oh,” he said as if it were the simplest thing in the galaxy. It was all he was capable of as the panic and pain and anxiety drained from his body slowly, his brain struggling to keep up and accept what was happening.

“Yeah. Oh.” Yen laughed, squeezing his hands in hers. “I think we both came here with the same goal. Though my plan was a little more, shall we say, stealthy.”

“What do you mean?”

A twisted smile on her lips had his hard twisting itself to match. “I was going to officially transfer your management to a colleague, so when she recommended me as a match, it would be more … acceptable.”

“I didn’t realize not dating was a condition of your employment. Are you going to get in trouble for tonight?”

“No, not at all. It isn’t a condition, just frowned upon. It’s … just …” She pursed her lips, clearly struggling with her words and Dogma grew even more relaxed as he watched her. “It’s an ethical sticking point for me. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise, like I’d be taking advantage of you.”

The thought that she either would ever or could ever force him into anything forced a sharp bark of laughter from him as Dogma finally felt his trepidation melt away.  

It was strange, this new … lightness? Good, though. Very good. Dogma wasn’t sure how to describe the lack of fear, of feeling like it was constantly on the back foot. But he didn’t need to. He reveled in it regardless.

“Hey, don’t you laugh! I take my job seriously. And my grandmother would kill me if I didn’t uphold professional standards!”

“Don’t worry, then,” he said, still chuckling. “I’ll wait until your grandmother is comfortable with you going on a second date with a former client.”

His grin deepened as Yen’s mouth dropped open. Sitting back, she stared at him, shaking her head but never letting go of his hands. “Did … did you just tease me about having a reasonable boundary between my personal and professional lives?”

“Not at all. I think that’s perfectly reasonable. Very smart, in fact.” Emboldened, Dogma twisted his wrist to run the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m teasing you about using your grandmother to intimidate me into behaving.”

Yen laughed, a small, light thing that Dogma wanted to hear again. And again. He’d have to get that paperwork together as soon as he returned to the barracks.

“Well, that isn’t the only reason I need that letter, you know.”

“No?”

“I need it to delete your file officially. Don’t want any of my colleagues finding you a cute date to tempt you away.”

He lifted a hand to her cheek, cradling it gently. “You couldn’t even find someone who could tempt me into a second date. Your colleagues could search for a century and never find someone who could pull me away from you.”

A small hand cupped the back of his, holding it to Yen’s face as she turned to press the smallest kiss to his palm, sending a soul-deep shiver through Dogma that he didn’t even try to hide. Her smile unfurled against his skin and he realized he’d likely need to get used to that feeling with her.

“Walk me home?” she asked softly.

“It would be my honor.”

A/N: Date Night was my first planned multi-chapter story and the longest story that I have ever officially finished! While I wish I could have gotten this out sooner, I'm so thrilled I was able to close this chapter (literally!). I'll still write about Yen and Dogma in the future, but their origin AU is over.

My taglist sign up sheet is still broken (I AM SO SORRY but I'm gonna blame my husband. My tech skills are blowing on an N64 cartridge to make it work and he has an IT degree and he said he'd help me) so just message me if you want to be added.

@wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @sunshinesdaydream @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @dhawerdaverd @mythical-illustrator

#clone trooper dogma #dogma x oc #dogma x yen #clone trooper dogma x oc #oc: Yen Ori'ken #my oc #RTL AU #right to love au #tcw matchmaking au #tcw fanfic #tcw

[dystopicjumpsuit]

WIP Poll Snippet!

You voted, and I am here to deliver! Here are twenty-three twenty-six (because I have no self-control) sentences from "A Match for Mayday," coming soon to @tcwmatchmakingau. Pairing is Mayday x flower farmer!reader.

His eyes have a faraway expression, and you wonder what horrors he’s seen to make him look so karking tired. He doesn’t continue, and you don’t prod him. Instead, you wordlessly watch the sun paint the sky in a wash of pastel. As the light fades and the dusk creeps in, the two of you exchange occasional desultory remarks, but mostly you sit in companionable silence, drinking slowly and simply enjoying each other’s nearness.

He’s waiting for you the next night, too, and the one after. Each evening, you open up more to him, and the two of you spend hours speaking quietly into the night. You tell him that your favorite flowers, fire lilies, are unpopular with buyers, so you grow a patch of them just for yourself. He confesses that he’s never seen one, so you lead him through the twilight into the garden. In the fading purple light, the fragrance of the lilies surrounds you in a heady cloud.

“May I pick one?” he asks.

“Of course,” you reply. 

Most people don’t bother to ask, and you never realized how much it bothered you until Mayday’s courtesy reminds you that you have a right to say no. He plucks a blossom carefully, reverently, making sure not to damage the rest of the plant. 

“They’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “I can see why they’re your favorite. Why don’t buyers like them?”

“They don’t last long once they’re picked,” you reply. “It makes transporting them tricky.”

“Then I’m sorry I picked this one,” he says.

“Don’t be,” you reply. “There will be more tomorrow.”

The sun has fully set now, and his dark eyes reflect the pale light of the moons. He examines the blossom closely, taking in the graceful curves of the petals, the speckled pattern at the center, the delicate filaments of the stamens. His eyes rise to your face, and his hands follow nearly unconsciously. His knuckles brush subtly against your cheek as he tucks the flower into your hair. Your mouth suddenly feels very dry, and you swallow without meaning to.

“Beautiful,” he repeats.

---

Join my tag list here

Tagging (gonna try this in the main post to see if the Tumblr tagging gods are smiling upon me today): @secondaryrealm @blueink-bluesoul @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep

#wip poll #wip tag #tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #mayday x reader #x reader

[sev-on-kamino]

Relationship HCs - ✨Fox x Daria Trace✨

These all make my brain short circuit because the brain rot I have for these two is severe 😌 more to come soon I’m sure 😅

SFW in the first half, NSFW in the second

Fox doing push-ups while Daria sits on his back, fiddling with a Rubik’s Cube or doing a crossword puzzle

Making each other lunch for work

Daria setting an alarm, so she can wake up to greet Fox when he comes home from a late shift

Daria picking up Mando’a and surprising Fox with it randomly (specifically to tell him she’s ready to leave a party)

Fox wearing headbands that match whatever color Daria’s hair is at the time to hold his curls back

Fox teaching Daria to shoot, immediately regretting it because she’s so smug about her new skills 😎

Daria painting Fox’s toes while they talk about how their day went. Fox painting her toes while she paints her nails because they’re cute *and* efficient

Daria putting on Fox’s helmet whenever she is doing an impression of him; he calls her an unbelievable brat, but it tickles him immensely

Sitting on opposite ends of the couch until Daria’s had enough and gets in Fox’s lap

Dancing in the living room randomly

Calling each other Trace and Commander when they’re mad at each other

Fox being the first man Daria’s ever subbed for

Super chill morning sex on days off

They make office visits solely to tease each other and fool around. Everyone at RTL gives Fox knowing smiles when he leaves, the Corries do the same to Daria

Daria exploiting Fox’s voice kink whenever possible

Fox edging Daria for a day or two and then making her come over and over until she begs him to stop

Fox making sure there are always marks on Daria’s thighs

Both of them being possessive

Both of them enjoying their size difference

Fox randomly asking for Daria to hand over her panties when they’re at dinner. She’s gotten very skilled at removing them quickly and quietly. If she’s not wearing any, he’s going to edge her right there at the table

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #commander fox #tcw fox #tcw fox x oc #commander fox x oc #oc: daria trace #DarFox #seven writes

[certified-anakinfucker]

What if Mizposting, but also Dini’laposting? With cameos from @purgetrooperfox’s Fox and @keys-to-the-stars’ Serval. (I extended it a bit from what I originally wrote HEHE)

One day I’ll get yall some coherent NCIS au going.

Commander Fox was, well, a little overdue this time. It’d been a fast few months that’d gone by since the last time he came by NCIS. Someone mentioned they caught two sergeants dragging someone inside from their hoverpad. They must have their hands full again..

It didn’t stop his feet from dragging him away from the sliding door he’d nearly keyed open; away from his office, waving an “I’ll be back” and disappearing into the hall. Fox needed a break, that’s what everyone kept telling him. And it was his impeccable timing that pulled him to the front door of NCIS, just as someone opened it from the inside.

“Hey, Miz.” he breathed.

“Hey,” was the equally weary reply - but with a tinge of welcome surprise. “Were you coming over? What can I do for you?”

The Commander just .. shrugged. He came to visit, it seemed. Miz smiled and stepped to the side, hand ushering him in. “Are the Twins back in the house? One of my lieutenants said they saw them pulling in fresh meat.”

There was a scream, albeit faint. It reverberated from the air ducts. Miz hardly turned an eye to it. “Oh, yeah. One of our prime suspects was a tad slippery, so the Twins went out and tried their hand.. they were successful, as you can see.” And another scream, this one sounded like it was from a clone.

Fox tried not to grimace. “I’d almost hate to see what goes on..” The grimace he couldn’t hold back only got worse when Miz flashed a half smile. “What? What’s the smile for..? Who- please tell me Dini’la isn’t your interrogator around here!”

Yes, Clone Sergeant Dini’la. One of the rougher of Miz’s bunch, the most infamous of his aptly-named Anarchy batch. Dini’la does not care for safety if it gets in the way of his “hunt”; he tends to tunnelvision in the means of getting to the suspect that’s been hurting his family. He’s not known for mercy, either. Quite the opposite.

His higher batchmate Jare’la - while just as obstitute on what to do with a bad person - can usually be found holding him with a hand on his shoulder. Mm, Chaos and Foolishly Reckless. They earned their names tenfold and if it wasn’t for the fact that they somehow came out alive no matter what ..

Miz was mysteriously tight-lipped on where he found them, anyway.

Fox shook his head back to the present. With a snort - Miz lifted his hands in surrender. “Even worse, it’s actually Finch that supervises and organizes interrogations. Dini’la is just his protégé when he’s got nothing better to chew on..” as the younger’s voice trailed away, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Hn.

Yeah, that was even worse. Morbid curiosity got the better of him though; the image of their youngest batchmate as the lead interrogator was increasingly difficult to fathom, even if he knew where he’d gotten any of his tactics from. But the Lieutenant just nodded his head to the side room housing the stairs, something about heading down to the basement level. There were jail cells on the level higher but the basement .. housed the morgue. Sergeant Serval’s domain. Serval.. that guy.

Somehow.. Fox nearly asked why! But he wasn’t quick enough to stop himself. The answer? “Well.. this one’s been.. very difficult.” Parsed words. “But obviously does face a lot of guilt even if she tries to blow it off.” Miz was doing his best to explain within the parameters of not giving his batchmate an aneurysm on their differences in how to deal with natborns in trouble with technical law. “So Dini’la had the idea to bring her down to see her handiwork; she had a tendency to flee the scene early, y’know?”

The illustrious Coruscant Guard. Fearless, riot-busters and shocktroopers, deployed to depths untouched by “natural” light for hundreds of thousands of years. As their top boss, their figurehead, Fox has seen and heard it all. Yet the morgue here in his neighbor’s building never ceased to give him anything less than the severest of fucking willikers.

Lo and behold — the pinpad pinged green and the doors slid open. One quick glance showed that Serval had taken his leave to the small office adjoined to his morgue and left Dini’la to his own devices, while the suspect was laying on the autopsy table with her hands very uncomfortably cuffed under the small of her back.

There was a timepiece ticking somewhere, and a few words were exchanged between greetings for the two COs. Dini’la seemed excited to have Miz pop in, moving away from the wall to throw himself into waiting arms in a hug that would engulf him. Serval popped his head out of the office momentarily, flashing a smile and then disappearing again. He could see them through his little window, though.

The suspect, apparently disgusted at the show of people-having-it-better-than-the-murderer, took her chances of opening her mouth and saying something. Fox thinks the timepiece broke, because it was silent now.

He couldn’t quite catch what she said. Fox hoped he didn’t understand that pass thrown at Dini’la, who was firmly wrapped in Miz’s arms one second and had then blinked his way to the table. He loomed over her. No more smiles, no more giggles and asking how the fresh air felt.

Fox sorely wishes he didn’t hear what was next.

“Funny,” the Sergeant chirped in a sickeningly upbeat tone, “but not funny ha ha. Funny..”

Now his voice dropped, and he got very close to her ear. His hands white-knuckled the durasteel table but did not touch the natborn.

“Funny, if you ever do that again, I will peel you like a fucking Aurilian fruit. Fucker.”

Serval, once again in the doorway, only sipped at his caf as he nodded along sagely.

Fox visibly paled.

Miz blinked, then shrugged.

Fox looked back at Miz. Clearly mortified.

“What, do you have any better suggestions?” Miz chimed. Now Fox looked beyond exasperated, gesturing between the suspect that had started to shake worse than a rusted speederbike in the free lanes and Dini’la who was now snarling something else under his breath.

Did he have any better suggestions? “No, but - you can’t just - Miz!”

“Let it be, ori’vod. Trust me.. you don’t want to hear the stories.”

Serval piped in, “Seeing the aftermath is more than enough to believe.”

Miz and Serval “toasted” each other on that one.

#cheeri’s ocs #cheeri writes #not cheeri’s ocs #clone lieutenant miz #clone commander fox (leo) #fuck you this isnt going in main tags #i dont trust any of yall wtf #clone sergeant serval (sar) #clone sergeant dini’la #drojov and briller and emphasis are on timeout #aka theyre not allowed to be around dini rn #matchmaker needs to be in jail. under the jail.

[sunshinesdaydream]

Hello my dear, here we go. I kinda find it hard to describe myself but I think you know me quite a little. 😉 

Name: call me Cat

Physical description: blonde, smol, I wear glasses

Style/aesthetic: style? I don’t know if it’s not comfy I don’t wear it? 😂The range goes to nerdy and practical for work, because it’s getting dirty there.

Fun: I love music and love to dance (didn’t do it for too long), and the rest is like comfy nerdy stuff like writing, watching my favorite series, gaming

Personality: Loud and passionate. I often have strong opinions about everything and I like to express them. (Without arguments, without me) Emotional with a strong sense of justice.

First date: I normally don’t care what we do until I’m comfortable with the person. But I would LOVE to go out like dancing and taking some drinks in the 79’s

Additional: I would love to have someone to likes making decisions because I'm bad at it, and I love myself somebody who is responsible and knows what he wants from life (because I'm not 😂)

Thank you! 🥰

HIIII!!! I mean, I do know you a little ☺️

Isa: Hello Cat, it is a pleasure to meet you! This guy is an absolute sweetheart. But I think there is a fair amount of mischief going on there too. It can be hard to tell, though. He sticks around people that tend to be louder than himself. He very much has a sense of humor! Oh and he is so smart too! He would be very encouraging of you expressing your opinions, and I'm sure interested in discussing them with you. There seem to be very few topics that are real sticking points for him. But I mean, naturally they are going to struggle with former separatists. They were just...

Greatheart: May I?

Isa: Yes, Love.

Greatheart: He is very flexible, he isn't going to argue for argument's sake. He is very focused, and when he makes a decision he sticks to it. However he is very strategic when doing so.

Isa: You will be meeting Echo at 79's for drinks and dancing.

Hope you have a marvelous time, sweetie!

Isa & Greatheart

10th Tumblrversary Clone Matchmaking Celebration -Still taking asks for matches. It will take a bit to get to all of them, but I will!

#I know not Fox but he's probably tired of the decision making #arc trooper echo #Clone Matchmaking #Sunshine's 10th Celebration #star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone trooper #ladyzirkonia

[angelltheninth]

Listen here love, I think about Anakin a lot, specifically him being so flirty and annoying that I just wanna shut him up with a kiss. Because I think it's the only way he would stay quiet.

Oh I agree, he runs his mouth a lot, someone needs to stop him somehow.

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting, kissing, making out, flirty Anakin, cocky Anakin

Word count: 0.4k

A/N: Damn I love this sassy bitch man so much. The Clone Wars animated show is what did it for me, I can't like and say I didn't melt from happiness when I saw him in the Obi-Wan show.

41. kisses to shut them up

There was one thing that always seemed to be Anakin's number one selling point, and the thing that always got the man into all kinds of trouble, his inability to shut up when needed.

It was a useful skill when he needed to talk his way out of things but more often than that it got him stuck in situations he wanted no part of. Or ones that you wanted no part of. And ones that Obi-Wan wouldn't stop teasing him about later.

"It wasn't that bad. They were gonna run into each other sooner or later, I just... speeded up the process a little." Anakin walked beside you with his arms crossed behind his head, head cocked slightly downwards and his cocky, sunshine smile ever-present. "Actually they should be thanking me, I'm a real matchmaker."

You stopped, your hand hovering over the buttons that opened the door to your living quarters, "Matchmaker? Did the fact that they tried to kill each other mean nothing? They're more likely to fuck each other over then anything else." With a few quick movements you entered the code and marched inside, throwing your coat to the side and slumping onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

"Better for their tribes if they settle their differences in closed quarters then on the battlefield. The meeting went well, they seem to like each other, I don't see a problem with a little kissing." Anakin leaned down and draped his arms over the couch and your shoulders, his head nuzzling against your cheek, "It's how you and I got together."

"Sometimes I really can't stand you, Ani." Yet you smiled at him, which only boasted his already sky high confidence and good mood.

"Then why do you put up with me, eh cutie?" He poked your cheek with his index finger, prompting you to turn your head and bite him, "Admit it, you love me. You wanna kiss me all the time, and just like those two rivaling warlords, you wanna drag me into the bed and- mmnh!" You pressed your lips against Anakin's quickly, which made him smile and melt into you, a little awkwardly but he didn't mind. With your hand you cupped his cheek and massaged the bottom of his scar, "Knew it, you love me."

"I love you when you're quiet." You whispered against his lips.

"Then come and shut me up again." Gladly, very gladly, he couldn't even finish shooting his cocky smile at you before you surged forward, turned your body fully towards his, pushed yourself up on your knees and cupped his face for a deep kiss.

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars fluff #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fluff #anakin fic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker fanfiction #x reader

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Commander Mayday illustration by @nika6q

A Match for Mayday: Chapter 3

Editor's note: This fic is a collaboration between @nika6q (artwork) and @dystopicjumpsuit (story)

Pairing: Mayday x Flower Farmer Reader 

Rating: M (18+ Minors DNI)

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings and tags: fluff; mild angst; sensuality; smut; fingering; it is not actually impossible for DJ to write a SFW story, but it does cause hives

A/N: dedicated to @nika6q ❤️‍🩹

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

“Gorgeous,” Sunni declares with a flourish as she steers you toward her mirror.

“I’m not sure why you’re going to this much effort on me when you’re supposed to be the center of attention,” you point out as you turn obediently.

“Because you deserve a little pampering, and you never have an excuse to get dressed up on Nakadia,” Sunni replies. “What do you think?”

You examine your reflection, taking in the artfully arranged hair, the perfect makeup, and the dress that displays a tasteful amount of skin while concealing all the things you prefer to keep to yourself.

“You’re a magician,” you reply frankly. “I can’t remember the last time I took so long to get ready.”

One of the bridesmaids, Tarsi, flops down on the bed and takes a sip of sparkling wine as she declares, “Nothing wrong with a little self-indulgence every now and then. Everything in moderation, including moderation, am I right, ladies?”

The other two bridesmaids chorus their agreement from the adjoining room, and you smile. Unsurprisingly, Sunni has a delightful group of friends, and they’ve made the week leading up to the wedding far more fun and  relaxed than you expected. Tarsi does have a bad habit of trying to talk you into signing up for RTL, though; she’s so proud of her success with Hexx and Sunni that she’s determined to find a match for every one of her friends.

“You’re beautiful, kind, successful, and you live on the most idyllic planet in the galaxy,” she declares. “Troopers will be lining up around the block to meet you. How do you feel about children?”

“I’ll pass,” you say firmly.

“On the children or the troopers?”

“Both,” you reply.

Tarsi pouts but lets it go. Meanwhile, the other two bridesmaids, Brax and Mione, burst into the room carrying a round of raava shots.

“Pregame!” Brax announces. “Everybody grab a shot.”

“Oh, no!” you laugh. “I’m the designated drunk-herder tonight. It is my responsibility to make sure you all make it onto the charter shuttle to Nakadia at the end of the night so this wedding can actually happen. I need to keep a clear head.”

“One shot isn’t going to do anything,” Sunni declares. “As bride, I hereby absolve you of all responsibility if I’m late to my own wedding. Now take the shot.”

You roll your eyes in good-humored exasperation, and you all toss back the raava, reactions ranging from Tarsi’s delicate cringe to Brax’s exaggerated sputter.

“Well, that was awful,” Sunni coughs. “Shall we get this party started?”

The group makes its way through several bars and dance clubs in Coruscant’s mid-levels, each successively louder and more crowded, before heading to a place that is apparently well-known to Sunni and her friends. As the five of you pile out of the air-taxi onto the landing platform, a gigantic sign reading 79’s bathes you all in a neon haze. There are an unusually high number of clones milling about outside the club, but Sunni and the others head straight for the entrance, throwing open the doors dramatically.

“Gentlemen, I have arrived!” Sunni announces with a confident swagger born partly of inebriation and partly of her own innate love of a spectacular entrance.

From inside the club, a cacophony of male voices lets out a deafening cheer interspersed with a few whistles and catcalls. Not for the first time of the night, you wish that you were getting as lit up as the rest of the group, because from the sound of things, you are about to head into exactly the kind of crowded, chaotic environment that seems perfectly designed to trigger your panic response. Right about now, you would kill for some liquid courage, but none is forthcoming, so you square your shoulders and walk into the club.

It’s crowded, smoky, and dark, and the music is loud enough to buzz across your skin and throb in your chest. It is also packed with clones, all of whom look absolutely delighted to see your group.

“What is this place?” you call to Tarsi over the roar of the crowd.

“Clone bar!” she yells back. “Isn’t it great?”

“Great,” you parrot back with false enthusiasm.

Unsurprisingly, the bartender has already poured a round of shots for your group by the time you reach the bar, courtesy of some unknown patron. You know you shouldn’t drink yours, but it’s been hours since you had the raava shot, and you have a feeling you’re going to need it if you’re going to make it out of 79’s without going ballistic, so you toss it back quickly. Within seconds, all five of you are pulled onto the dancefloor, and at least two clones begin to grind on each of you. There are so many people, and your heart starts to race as the crowd presses against you. The lights flash disorientingly. It’s hot and sweaty and loud, and your cheeks are starting to cramp from the overly bright smile you’re trying to keep in place. 

You look over to Sunni and are surprised to see her dancing with Hexx. Veetch is plastered against Tarsi, along with a clone you don’t recognize. You can’t see Brax or Mione, because there are three farking clones grinding their dicks against you, and if you have to put up with this for another minute you are going to kriffing lose your shit!

Abruptly, a hand closes around your wrist and pulls you gently but firmly away from the sausage fest. A little space opens up around you, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. You turn to thank your rescuer, and your heart gives a hard, involuntary lurch when you recognize Mayday’s long, dark curls. He asks a question that you can’t hear over the music. You shake your head and point to your ears. He nods in understanding, and his eyes are so damned kind that you want to weep with relief.

Another strange clone starts to move toward you, but Mayday fixes him with a stare that has him putting up his hands and backing away. You don’t want to leave the dancefloor and abandon Sunni and the others, but you’re not sure how you’re going to be able to stay, either. Mayday moves closer and rests his hands on your hips. You glance up at him, startled. He gives you a reassuring smile and starts to move your body to the rhythm of the music.

“I thought you didn’t dance!” you try to say over the music, but he shakes his head to indicate he can’t hear you, either. 

Instead, he pulls you closer to himself and oh, Maker. He does dance. He’s a really kriffing good dancer. He moves with a sinuous grace that has your mind racing with the possibilities of what else he can do with moves like that. And while his hands stay well within respectful boundaries, they leave a trail of blazing heat as they move across your body. 

You war with yourself. Mayday has you dizzy and off-balance. One moment he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the galaxy, and the next he’s telling you not to touch him. But now he’s caressing your waist and hips like he never wants to stop, and he’s shielding you with his body, and he’s keeping you safe in the midst of the crowd. It’s a heady experience, to be at the center of that intense focus. Eventually, you stop thinking and simply let go and exist in the moment.

You lose track of time, of place, of people—it all fades into the background, and all you can see is Mayday. The way he touches you, moves you, guides you through the dance. He turns you so your back is to him, and you lean against his strong body, your hips swaying against his. You raise one hand over your shoulder to tangle in his hair, and you feel the heat of his breath against your wrist. His fingers trail over your arm, lighting up the nerves and sending tingles racing through you. And then his mouth descends onto your bare shoulder, his beard teasing your sensitive skin as he works his way up the side of your neck. Your knees nearly buckle at the sensation, but somehow you hold onto both your balance and your dignity.

You are shocked when the bartender announces the last call. How has the time passed so quickly? You’ve been so wrapped up in Mayday that you didn’t even notice as the crowd began to thin, and now it is time to round up the rest of the wedding party and head to the spaceport, where the luxurious private shuttle Sunni has chartered awaited your arrival. You and Mayday are the only reasonably sober members of the group, and so you coordinate with him to hustle everyone into two air taxis.

It’s a loud and raucous trip to the spaceport, but eventually, you bundle Sunni and the others onto the shuttle and perform one last headcount before Mayday signals the pilot to depart. It takes a significant amount of time and effort, but eventually, everyone aboard makes it to their assigned quarters, and you retreat to the shuttle’s opulent lounge to decompress and have a well-deserved drink. 

You stop short when you enter the room and find Mayday already inside. You flirt with the idea of fleeing, of going straight to your quarters and trying to get some sleep on the long jump to Nakadia, but it’s too late. He’s already spotted you, and you can’t avoid him without being openly rude. 

“I’d forgotten how exhausting it is to wrangle drunk people,” you say as you enter the room. 

“Mmm,” Mayday agrees with a rumble. “Makes fighting the war look easy.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you reply.

He smiles. “You’re right. Want a glass?”

“I think we’ve earned it,” you reply, settling into an armchair as he pours two tumblers of liquor out of a mysterious decanter.

The tawny liquid catches the light as he hands you a glass, reminding you of his eyes. You sniff it curiously and are greeted with a sweet, smoky aroma.

“I knew you were a whiskey man,” you say as you clink your glass quietly against his and take a sip. 

“I don’t usually turn down a free drink,” Mayday replies. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know the good stuff when I see it.”

You regard him steadily before you ask, “Is that so?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his eyes guarded.

“I can’t figure you out, Mayday,” you say. 

At least he doesn’t insult you by pretending to misunderstand. He watches you for a moment, and when you don’t flinch under his scrutiny, he takes another drink of his whiskey.

“I told you I don’t play games,” he says.

“You could have fooled me,” you retort.

“You’re with someone else,” he says in a low voice. He sets his jaw firmly, but his eyes flicker over your body, and for an instant, you see a flash of naked hunger in them. “I’m not going to chase after someone who’s unavailable.”

What the kark? Your eyebrows snap together. “Is that why you couldn’t keep your hands off me tonight? Why every time we’re in the same room, you look at me like—like that?”

“Why the kriff do you think I was avoiding you?” he growls. “When I’m with you, I can’t think straight. I am trying to respect your relationship, but fuck, you drive me wild.”

You let out a short, angry laugh and drain your glass. “You think I would dance with you like that when I was with someone else? I didn’t realize you had such a poor opinion of me.”

“You said you were taken. You—” he pauses as though the words choke him with their bitterness. “You planned your wedding.”

“That was hypothetical!” You set your glass down with a snap as you rise abruptly. “I’m going to bed. Alone. Like I do every night. Which you should have realized when you spent a week in my house.”

“We’re not finished,” Mayday says, rising to block your exit.

“There’s nothing else to say,” you snap.

“What the kark did you expect me to do?” he demands. “I met the girl of my dreams, and two seconds later she told me she wasn’t interested.”

“I said I wasn’t interested in RTL!” you exclaim. “A matchmaker sounds like my worst nightmare. Although at least it would have prevented this level of absolute banthashit.” 

“Then—” he begins.

“For kark’s sake, how much clearer can I possibly be?” you cut him off. “Do I need to hang up a neon sign that says OPEN FOR BUSINESS? Do you want me to send you a handwritten letter? ‘Dear Mayday, please tear off all my clothes and have your way with me on the nearest available surf—mmph!’”

Mayday’s mouth cuts off your tirade. His lips crash against yours, his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his hands pull you close against him. He tastes like whiskey, and he smells like woodsmoke and spices, overwhelming your senses. You clutch his shoulders for balance, and then immediately slide your hands up his neck to twine your fingers through his hair. You tug on it gently, and he groans into your mouth in response. His arms tighten around you, pinning you to him as he grips your ass and grinds his hips against you. You let out a strangled moan as you feel the hardness of his cock press against your abdomen.

“This karking dress,” he rasps, breaking away from your kiss for a moment as his fingers find your hemline and snake up the inside of your bare thigh. “Did you wear it just to torture me?”

You open your mouth to respond, but he preempts your response with another breathtaking kiss. He slips past the lace of your panties—thank the Force I wore pretty ones—and glides his fingertips over your heated skin. His hands are as clever and talented as you knew they would be, and a fresh wave of irritation hits you. You tug his hair lightly as you pull away from his kiss.

“I’m still mad at you!” you exclaim. “We could have been doing this for weeks, oooh—”

He slides one of those thick, skilled fingers into you as he drops his mouth to your throat.

“I’m planning on doing it a lot longer than that, mesh’la.”

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #The Bad Batch #mayday tbb #commander mayday #other clones #mayday x you

[fanfic-obsessed]

Th CodyWan Obsession

This one is about how CodyWan, the obsession, could be used to fix the universe. 

It actually starts before Cody becomes Obi Wan’s commander. The 212th, with Alpha-17 as the commander, went to Kamino. This is still very early in the war, where Anakin is still a Padawan. Through some random set of events Anakin meets Cody, who is an ARC trainer, while touring the facility with Alpha (Obi Wan has some meeting or another and is not able to go with them). This conversation lasts all of 45 seconds before Anakin somehow divines or decides that Cody would be perfect for Obi Wan. 

Thus an obsession is born. 

Now Anakin has next to no subtly, but even he knows this obsession must be kept quiet at first. Because he believes he knows that, while Anakin is more than willing to break The Code to be with Padme, Obi Wan would not. So before Anakin starts matchmaking he wants a loophole in place.  His Master loves loopholes. 

So, on Anakin’s next leave he dives into the parts of the code that deal with attachment. His obsession is such that he even blows off Chancellor (He does at least call Padme, but spends no time with his new wife). Because he is looking for loopholes and different interpretations, h does not just dig into the actual wording of the Code (though he does that as well, and is surprised to learn that the interpretation he thought he knew- which he does realize later came exclusively from Palpatine- is wrong) but also into transcripts of the council meetings where that wording was was decided, an every meeting where it was rehashed. 

Madam Nu assumes, as most people do, that this had something to do with his infatuation with Padme Amidala.  She encouraged what he was learning, in hopes that it gave him a good direction. 

Anakin learns a lot during this deep dive into Archives. He learns that it is not so much the marriage that is against the code, but vowing to put one being over the rest of the galaxy (he also realizes that the vows he took with Padme did not break the Code). He learns the reasons why the Jedi caution against romantic relationships (all of which are very good reasons), and the variety of ways that the Jedi had mitigated the dangers and been in a successful, healthy romantic relationship, of which he made a mental note to bring up with Padme so they do not fall into some of the same traps noted (of which Falling and killing everyone you loved is one of many bad reactions). He also learns a great deal about the Jedi Order as a whole, and dispels most, but not all, of the incorrect views he had of the Jedi Order (the views that Palpatine so carefully shaped for Anakin)

So Anakin, now armed with all the arguments for why Obi Wan should date Cody, finds his first of many obstacles. Obi Wan has no idea who Cody is.  Anakin had not been paying attention to Cody’s ID number, nor did he catch that Cody was an ARC trainer, so has no idea how to find Cody. 

He is not able to find out who Cody is before Cody becomes Obi Wan’s commander, which makes him both feel guilty (for the torture Obi Wan and Alpha-17 underwent) and vindicated (because clearly the Force agreed with him about CodyWan).  Anakin then dedicates himself to being a matchmaker. He is not good at it. 

Neither Obi Wan nor Cody ever figure out what he is doing. This is not due to any subtlety on Anakin’s part, this is because none of his efforts to match-make looks anything like traditional matchmaking.  And while no one actually tells Obi Wan or Cody, everyone else in Anakin’s vicinity finds out within 15 minutes of his obsession with getting CodyWan together. 

Every conversation Anakin has with Palpatine after Cody becomes Obi Wan’s commander devolves into the wonders of CodyWan. For most of it Palpatine has no idea that Cody is a clone (as he does not know the Clone names, only their numbers).  Palpatine is split between wanting to help get CodyWan together (because Anakin is really compelling) and wanting to kill them both extra hard (because they had inadvertently derailed, and continue to derail, his corruption of Anakin). 

And Anakin’s corruption has been entirely derailed.   His research has given him a better view of the Jedi Order as a whole, and every attempt to besmirch the Jedi to him is met with actual concrete knowledge that the negative take is wrong.  He has gone through all the requirements for listing his relationship and marriage to Padme, so when she does get pregnant they are able to go to the Temple healers, thus no need to be worried about her safety.  Even the war is not pressing on his sanity in the right ways since about 40% of his brain is consumed with CodyWan at all times. 

Padme, who is a romantic in her own right (and just as bad a matchmaking), also falls into the CodyWan obsession. She is aware that Cody is Obi Wan’s clone commander, so much of her focus is getting the Clone’s rights and ending the war so that the two can be free to be together. Her former handmaidens are watching this all with awe, horror, and amusement.  

I know that CodyWan ends up together in this one. I feel like QueerPlatonic is right for them.  I also like the idea that they get together in spite of Anakin’s and Padme’s matchmaking efforts instead of because of it. 

Palpatine gets found out, by being a bit too heavy handed with Anakin, who has since stopped being corrupted by anything more subtle and is very oblivious. Somehow during this fight Palpatine finds out that Cody is the clone commander with the Jedi (which ironically makes him forget to activate Order 66) and announces Anakin’s wish for CodyWan to have a romantic relationship.    

This is news to both Cody and Obi Wan. This is not news to literally everyone else.  After Palpatine is defeated (not killed, in this one they manage to lock him up. The fight damages his vocal chords so he is not able to activate the chips) several bets were settled about CodyWan. Palpatine himself even managed to win some bets with several senators (there is some debate as to if they should be forced to pay out, and how, since Palpatine would be in a Force blocking cage for the rest of his life).

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars au #obi wan kenobi #fanfiction prompt #anakin skywalker #codywan #sheev palpatine #anidala #bamf obi wan #Anakin ships Codywan #padme amidala #Padme Ships CodyWan #Palpatine is split about shipping CodyWan #Anakin does not fall

[littlemissmanga]

hello there~ sending these bad boys for the fic writer ask meme! 🤍💋 💌

Oh! Let's see...

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

Oh this is an interesting one! Hmmm, I'd say my Boba x reader fic. I was trying to get across the sense of power one would feel having Boba "in your corner" so to say, even if you're not the type to be used to or ever really want that feeling, how you can grow stronger because of your partner. But idk I think it comes off as self-indulgent enough that if people aren't in that kinda mood, they're not going to relate/vibe to it.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

Not always, and I never expect it. More like, if I add a headcanon or ask a direct question, then I think responses are a great way to create a conversation over a mutual obsession, which is always fun and often leads to even more thots/ new fic ideas. But I often just shout back the lines that I like/that really struck me and how much I loved them and why. For those kinda comments, I understand that usually the responses are more emotional/appreciative and it's hard to respond in text.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Date Night Pt 3, my contribution to the matchmaking AU, is going to star my OC, Yen (who is named for Yenta) as she faces her toughest challenge ... Dogma! Yen is my first OC since returning to writing, and the first one in truth I consider a unique character and not a self-insert/reader. Not that there's anything wrong with those, obv., just that this is a new challenge I'm excited for. Added to that is the fact that Dogma is also a new character for me. I'm really excited to try my hand at him, and the way I have it planned so far, I'm loving his interactions with Yen. It's unique to what I've written before just based on the characters - they're both so different than who I usually write for and it's been really fun getting into their heads.

#thanks for the ask! #these were really fun! #tcw #the clone wars #boba fett #boba fett x reader #clone matchmaking au

[dystopicjumpsuit]

the rtl account doesn't have asks on so I come to this page... Is the RTL restrictive to only clone/reader ships? Also, does the fic have to be a blind/arranged date or can it be any kind of date?

I've got an idea for my oc and the clone she's shipped with but I'm not sure if it'll be accepted...

Hey there! Thanks for reaching out. We don't restrict it to reader inserts at all; we welcome OCs (clone and natborn) as well as canon/canon ships!

As far as the date goes, we do want it to be connected in some way to the matchmaking service, but it doesn't necessarily have to be the reason for the date. It could be that they met through RTL long ago and are now in an established relationship, or maybe they have a clone friend who goes to RTL, or they're on a double date with another clone and his RTL match, or any other way to work it in. Just something to to establish that it takes places in this particular AU.

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #dystopicjumpsuit answers

[sev-on-kamino]

✨WIP Wednesday✨

pairing: Fox x OFC (Daria Trace, and you get soft!Daria today)

Fox flirts and flatters his way to a favor from his favorite matchmaker. (super rough first draft action)

Rating: G but minors aren’t supposed to be here 👀

“You know,” Fox began, “If I have to keep coming to your rescue like this, I’m going to start thinking you just want me around.”

Daria blinked several times, her ever glossy lips parting slightly before snapping shut. Her eyes were wide as they locked onto his visor. For the first time since he’d met her, the quick witted matchmaker was at a loss for words.

“I’m fucking with you, Trace,” he said with a smirk. He’d never seen her flustered before, and he found that he liked it. Knowing he was the one who could sneak past her armor of cool professionalism gave him a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“Of course you are,” She said, recovering quickly, mask back in place. She envied his helmet, hiding all of his reactions from her.

“Everyone knows you don’t date.”

“I do date. I just-“ She paused. “Who’s everyone?”

“The vode,” He said folding his arms.

“Oh,” Daria said, frowning slightly before realization dawned on her face. “I only told that ARC I don’t date because he was flirting with me during his interview.”

“It’s true though. If any of the boys saw you on a date, they’d be gossiping about it. They’re very concerned about you finding a nice person for yourself. Especially Thorn.”

“I didn’t realize my love life would be so interesting to them.”

“They feel like they owe you one. It’s why we show up so fast when you call,” Fox confessed.

“See? That’s why I do what I do. Guys that sweet deserve every chance at happiness,” She said with a bright smile. “Speaking of which, I’m still waiting for your match to come in. I made a promise to Thorn, and I’m going to keep it.”

“What promise?” Fox asked, tilting his head at her.

“To find someone to make you take your days off,” She replied. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes that time.

“He just wants me out of the office, so he and Hound can play fetch with Grizzer in the halls.”

“A promise is a promise, and I always keep those, so watch out,” She said with smirk.

“With the way you attract trouble, I’m always watching out for you, Trace,” he laughed softly, and Daria felt her face warming up. “If you’re feeling generous, do you think you could make a promise to me?”

“Within reason,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Give Neyo another shot?”

Daria quirked a brow at him. “I said within reason, Commander.”

“Look, you’re good at this. Scary good. I thought it sounded ridiculous at first, but Thorn, Hound, Cody, Wolffe,” he trailed off a moment before tugging off his helmet. “You worked magic with them. I’m just asking you to try one more time.”

“If you’re trying to play on my professional ego, it’s working,” she said, letting her eyes roam his face. “Fine, but only for you, and I swear if he gets sideways with me again…”

“He won’t. But if he does, I’m only one call away,” Fox assured her, his voice softer than velvet.

“Deal.”

tagging: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @sinfulsalutations @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @wolffegirlsunite and anyone else with a WIP to share 😌💙💙

#commander fox #tcw fox #tcw fox x oc #commander fox x oc #oc: daria trace #tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #wip wednesday #seven writes

[freesia-writes]

Master List of Echo Goodies!

Key: 😭 = Hurt/Comfort 🌶️ = NSFW 🥹 = Fluff 💙 = Romance

Long Fics:

😭🥹 Parts of a Whole by snow_and_ice on Ao3

🥹💙 Echo and Comms by @deejadabbles

😭🌶️ Loverboy (Sith Finds Echo) by @kaminocasey

😭💙🥹🌶️ Don't You Know by @221bshrlocked

One-Shots:

🥹 Tough Love from Echo by @arctrooper69

😭 Don't Die Here by @eclec-tech

🌶️ Spicy Reunion by @clone-anon-after-dark

🥹 Birdwatching and Walk in the City by @clone-anon

😭 Tambor's Monster (Frankenstein AU) by @eclec-tech

😭 I Miss You by KyberCrystals94

💙😭 I'm Different by @dangraccoon

💙🌶️ish - Just Borrowing by @dangraccoon

🥹 Echo Meets Your Family by @reader6898

🥹 Body Insecurities by @tinywitchgoblin

🥹💙 The Beauty in All (Matchmaking AU) by @deejadabbles

😭💙 Like Real People Do by @sinfulsalutations

🌶️ Different, But Still Good by @somedaylazysomeday

Fan Art:

Echo in action by @keeradaks

Shirtless Echo by @queenjiru

Zygerrian Prisoner by @url0calweirdo

Hilarious Comic by @jvanrynart

Echo and Fives by @baaaaaaaam

Tired Mediator by @phantasm-echo

Thirst Trap Animation by @boggsart

Echo and Fives at the Bar by @nika6q

Echo and Riyo, No Pickles by @amalthiaph

Snarky Valentine by @nika6q

Male Model Echo by @eyecandyeoz

Echo and Ghost Fives by @spicyclones79s

TCW Echo by @moonvixenart

Cozy Fireside Echo by @pinkiemme

SWC Portrait by @kenosisofabrami

Four Portraits by @beetlecrest

Radiant Crown by @lightspringrain

Puppet Echo by @echojedis

Echo and Fives by @coldbrewarts

Glorious Thicc Boi by @muguathepapaya

Halloween Moth Echo by @pinkiemme

Echo and Riyo Sunbathing by @nika6q

Disney Prince Echo by @marymunchkiin

Tank Top Echo by @frostbitebakery

Snoozin with Tech by @amorfista

Gardening on Pabu by @thattoothpick

Rex Finding Echo by @hootydoot

Beach Day with Hunter by @amorfista

TCW Echo and Fives by @cobaltbeam

Shirtless Echo by @matookahitaki

BAMF Armored Echo by @superscoundrel23

Echo Moon by @lightspringrain

Damn Scomp by @snotbuggle

Puppy Dog Eyes by @isthereanechoinhere96

Shirtless Echo by @raevulsix

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars fanart #tbb fanart #bad batch #the bad batch fanart #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #bad batch fanart #fanart #tbb echo #echo fanart #echo fanfic #echo fic #tcw echo #tbb echo fanart #tcw echo fanart