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#tup clone wars
tattycoram · 3 months
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Fives: swaggity swup whats wrong with Tup Fives: *discovers the sith plot for mass genocide* Fives: motherfuck
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starqueensthings · 2 months
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I know Jesse is known to have perfected the nose scrunch, but…
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…I think Tupperware’s giving him a run for his money 🫢
ragu: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator
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monstrumpologin · 1 year
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imagine a network of dressmakers throughout the galaxy making completly unike weddinggarments for the clones that are only them and only for them. they share patterns in a databank for everything: cloaks, capes, jakets, pants, kilts, robes etc. including their armor paint and traditional elemts of their partners culture if wished so.
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danceswithsporks · 1 year
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On the 8th day of Batchmas I gave to all of yooouuuu!!
Bad pick up liiiinneees! (And a good one)
I’ve decided to post little snippets up until our boys finish cleaning their guns…errr season 2
Now this will take place in the universe I’ve built for my fic A Star Above the Rest! Some may be sneak peaks at future events, little glimpses into past events, or things I wanted to do but couldn’t work into the story! I hope you all enjoy them and Happy Holidays!
Day 8 of the 12 days of Bad Batchmas- Bad pickup lines!(and a good one)
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“You call that a pick up line? As if.” A sultry Twi’lek in a red glitter dress scoffed and walked away from Kix. Unimpressed by his lines. Just because she was in a clone bar didn’t mean she’d hook up with any clone.
A group “oh!” Came from his fellow vod in the corner booth. They’d all seen the failure that was his pick up attempt.
Dejectedly, the medic made his way back to the table. Accepting a shot glass that was passed to him. “Not another word.”
“What exactly did you say?” Echo smirked as he leaned back in the booth. Glad to finally be spending time with his brothers. It had been quite some time.
Kix sighed as he repeated the pickup line. “ I asked her if she could take me to a medic because I broke my leg falling for her.”
The group of clones all broke out in loud laughter. Some visibly cringing at the horrible line.
“It’s amazing that it didn't work.” A beautiful voice made the group go silent. Zirena stood behind Kix on the arm of Rex. A short black dress stopped just below her ass and her five oh first blue stilettos clicked across the floor as she playfully waited for all of them to stop staring at her. “Boys” she snapped at all of them to draw their attention. “My eyes are up here.” She knew the cut of her dress was distracting, it made her breasts look massive. Which was why Rex picked it for her. He loved showing her off and she loved being shown off.
While it was true she belonged to Rex, she was also the jewel of the GAR. All the men at the booth took her in slowly, enjoying every delicious curve on her. Zirena chuckled once more before walking over to Kix and running a painted nail under his chin. Bending over slowly, Rex watched as she teased the poor medic.
“A woman doesn’t want a cheesy pick-up line. They want to be swept off their feet by heroic soldiers.” Standing back up she watched as Kix picked his jaw up off the floor. “100 credits to the first clone to pick up a date.”
All the men suddenly stared at her in surprise. Was she being serious? Rex chuckled as he motioned for Echo and Fives to move so they could sit down. “Rules, Kar’ta.”
“Ah, right. You get one shot each. Once you get struck down, return to the table and buy a round.” Smiling as Echo offered his hand to assist her in sliding in, she watched as the others slowly filed out.
“What if none of us succeed?” Jesse crossed his arms already loving this bet. He’d easily win it.
Zirena smirked as she sipped at her drink. “Then I’ll show you boys how to truly pick someone up.” Winking, she motioned for Kix to slide next to her other side. “Good luck.”
-*-
One by one each of her boys made their way back to the table, no number or date in hand.
Jesse was the first to strike out. Failing with “do you believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk by you again?” A line that had earned him a laugh, but nothing more.
Next would be Fives, a splash of alcohol to the face over “If I make a spice joke will you let me cumin you?” Even Zirena had slapped him on that one.
Sweet Tup was next and though his line was cute, the woman was already seeing someone. When he returned, Zirena had sweetly asked him what he’d said. “I’m confused. Someone said happiness starts with an ‘h’ , but mine seems to start with ‘u’.”
Rex watched as Zirena swooned at that and he had to admit, it was good. He watched as more shots were placed on their table by the bartender. A woman that even Zirena had stated was gorgeous. “Only two left. Wrecker and Echo.”
Zirena hummed as the warmth of her whiskey shot went down her throat. “I wager Echo will win.” Her best friend was sweet and funny. Women loved that, if they could get past the metal.
The Captain chuckled as his fingers traced little circles against her deliciously thick thighs. “I believe Wrecker will be our surprise victor.��
“Are you thinking of a wager, my love?” Zirenas fingers walked up her fiancés chest slowly.
“Indeed. If I’m right, then you do that thing I like later tonight.” He watched as she smirked slyly.
“Mmm, and if I win. You do that thing I adore.” With a giggle she felt Rex kiss her cheek. Their bet was set.
It didn’t take long for Echo to return to the table. A defeat under his belt. He’d actually been having a great conversation with a beautiful Twi’lek when another, buffer clone had interrupted them. He didn’t stand a chance then. Kix sweetly moved so Echo could sit next to Zirena where she placed a loving pat on his hand. When asked what had gotten him that far, he happily proclaimed. “ I was wondering if you had an extra heart? Because you stole mine.”
An “awww” came from Zirena as she passed him a drink. “With this adorable face, how could she say no?”
“Easy when that size man comes sweeping in.” Fives pointed towards the clone in question. Though he couldn’t see what was so great.
Everyone watched the final contestant as he patiently waited at the bar. It took a while, during which the table received more rounds. Some they hadn’t even ordered but were courtesy of some shinys trying to hit on Zirena. She made sure to thank them before kissing Rex. Finally, after almost thirty minutes of waiting, Wrecker returned.
“Strike out too?” Fives watched as the large clone sat down with a satisfied thud.
“Nope.” Rex held up his communicator to show the bartender's number. Looking over his shoulder to her, he winked and she smiled.
“How?!?” Jesse was flabbergasted that Wrecker out of all of them won.
“She asked what I wanted. I simply told her that the only thing that would quench my thirst was her sitting on my face.” Wrecker shrugged happily as he took his own shot.
Zirena loudly choked on her own drink at his words. She didn’t know Wrecker had that side to him. Rexs hand slapped her back a few times trying to help clear her throat. “Fuck.” Reaching into her bag she pulled out a hundred credits and passed them to the clone. “You defensively deserve those.”
Wrecker smiled victoriously as he pocketed the winnings. He’d have to tell Crosshair that it actually worked once he went back to the ship. Which from the way the bartender had smiled and looked at him? Wouldn’t be until the next evening.
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morgan-rubenis · 1 year
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I've just watched the final episodes of the clone wars and I cant get over it. (SPOILERS AHEAD)
The way Rex tries to fight order 66 and even mentions fives bc he now knows fives was telling the truth about all of it. Also Ahsoka finding the information to take out Rex's chip ahhhhhhhh murder.
The ending makes you feel so sad with the fact you know all thoes clones have been buried by people who loved them (Rex and Ahsoka) and the fact Vader picks up Ahsoka's lightsaber.
What upsets me more is the fact I've heard that the clones have a really rough time under the empire and that they weren't as happy as when they were serving under the jedi.
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samspenandsword · 1 year
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Kinktober 2022/23 Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Summary: Kinktober Day 11 — Erotic Photos with Tup Pairing: Tup/Reader; fem!reader with no specifics to her appearance other than a clothing mention. Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; masturbation, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, dirty talk, sexting, erotic photos, dom/sub undertones if you squint, implied loss of virginity, language. Word Count: 4.4k (don’t look at me)
Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form
So I’m not normally a Tup girl but @theroguesully​ sent in this request and it fucking grabbed me by the throat lol I hope you enjoy!
The beating of the bass and the fluctuating colors of the club lights made you feel alive. Like the bass was thrumming in your veins, rather than through the speakers. Like the colors were emanating from you rather than from the club lights. Paired with the alcohol pleasantly buzzing through your system, you felt positively spectacular.
But it was the fact that you were out with friends that really brought the night together. You could go to any old club any time you wanted. But the giddiness in you was multiplied by the fact that you were surrounded by your best friends.
And a whole club of attractive people.
The club 79's on Coruscant hadn't exactly been open long. In fact, it had first opened and established itself as a clone bar, but word had quickly spread that the club had everything from live music and dancing to sports and every drink from pissy ale to fruity cocktails to top-shelf Corellian whiskey.
You loved 79's, it having quickly become a favorite of yours. The atmosphere of the place was so unlike any other you'd been to. It wasn't a place to come if you were exclusively looking to hook up, though that certainly happened. It wasn't a place where you went to get shit-faced and forget your sorrows, though that happened too. And nor was it a place you went to throw money at dancers or gambling tables. This place had it all, though what most people were looking for when they came to 79's was fun. Everyone from the clones fresh off deployment to the clones about to go back out, to the civilians who mingled in between them all, everyone was having fun. And it was the atmosphere of genuine smiles, laughter, alcohol, and music that made this place like no other.
Currently, you were weaving your way through the throngs of dancing people, it being your turn to go buy a round. Your friends shouted their orders at you, as if you didn't already know them by heart, and one whistled at your ass as you sashayed towards the bar. You tossed a wink and a rude finger his way, making him toss his head back with laughter.
You grinned and shook your head. You loved your friends.
You waited your turn as the two bartenders scuttled back and forth, obviously harried and busy as people swarmed up to them to order. The bar was practically standing-room-only tonight, but you didn't mind. When one of the bartenders, a pretty Twi'lek with lilac skin, finally turned to you, you recited the order — an Alderaanian red, two meiloorun punches, a Tatooine sunrise, a spotchka on the rocks, and a simple rum and cola for yourself — telling them to take their time. No rush. You knew all too well the stress of a service industry job.
You lightly bopped your head along with the music, the song vaguely familiar and pleasant in the way all pop songs were. Unknowingly, you'd begun to smile, simply vibing and enjoying the atmosphere of the night.
But a clone caught your eye. Well, more like you realized he'd been staring at you.
He was attractive in the way all clones were, but something about him was inherently cute. He had long hair, something you'd not really seen on a clone before. It was swept back into a bun, a few errant curls escaping and framing his face in a way that looked so good in the club lights. He had a small tattoo of a teardrop under his right eye.
He blushed when he realized he'd been caught staring.
You smiled. How cute!
"Take a picture, sweetie," you said, right as the bartender sat a tray down in front of you, bearing your drinks. You passed them a handful of credits and a hefty tip. "It'll last longer."
With a wink, and a widening smile at the way the clone blushed even harder, you slipped back into the dancing masses, swinging your hips to the beat of the music.
"Took you long enough!"
"Eat bantha fodder," you said, no real heat in your words. The tray was quickly passed to a serving droid as everyone took their drinks. You all raised them in the air, toasting to your night out and continuing to dance and drink the night away.
About an hour later, you still felt quite comfortably buzzed, the crowd having only gotten thicker as the night stretched on. Your group had split off for a bit, Takai somewhere off to the side with a trio of men dancing around them, Jane and Bera off to the fresher, Victor over by the sports screens, cheering along with a small crowd watching pod racing, and Matt likely at the bar. Deciding to find Matt, and that you needed another drink, you weaved your way towards the bar again.
Finding Matt wasn't exactly hard. A handsome and magnetic personality, he was currently standing at the bar, right beside a kitted clone with a small tattoo of the number 5 on his temple. And the near-matching, flirty grins on their faces made you smile to yourself, deciding instead to leave Matt be.
But Matt spotted you, waving you over with a bright grin.
"Fives, meet the ultimate pain in my ass."
"He's just mad his ass will never be as gorgeous as mine," you said, laughing.
Fives, the clone, and obviously an ARC trooper judging by the amount of armor he was wearing, chuckled, sending you a charming smile.
"Nive to meet you —" You gave him your name. "You're one of Matt's friends, right?"
"Yep!"
"Where are the others?" Matt wondered.
"Take a guess where Takai is."
"Dancing."
"And Victor."
"Pod racing."
"Bang on. Jane and Bera went to the fresher."
Matt sighed and shook his head, adopting the visage of a wizened sage disappointed with his pupils, of whom he expected better. "They broke the seal."
You laughed. "Had to happen at some point."
"But so soon?"
You laughed again. "Not everyone has a bladder the size of Coruscant, Matt."
If Fives was freaked out by the casual way you and Matt spoke about such a strange topic with each other, he made no indication of it. In fact, he laughed along with the both of you.
"Breaking the seal," Fives said. "Never heard that before, I like it."
"We've been calling it that since school," you said, grinning. "Maker, there'd be nights we drank so much that after we broke the seal, we'd have to get up four or five times in the night just to go to the fresher."
"Remember the night Victor thought he could hold it?" Matt said, with a big crocodile grin.
You laughed loud enough to draw eyes. Fives, observing your mirth, said, "I take it that didn't end well?"
"Nope," you and Matt said together.
"I remember one time when — oh, Tup! Hey, Tup!" Fives suddenly caught sight of one of his brothers, waving him over enthusiastically.
Fives introduced you both to Tup, and you smirked at the way Fives nearly purred Matt's name. "And this is Tup, my brother and best friend."
You looked at the clone. Well, whaddya know...
"Hi, sweetie," you said, "fancy meeting you here."
He blushed, but flashed a smile.
"You two know each other?" Fives asked, still smiling, but looking a little confused behind it.
"Nah," you said. "Not officially. I just have way too much fun teasing people."
"Oh, Maker," Matt moaned. "Tup, whatever she said, don't take it seriously."
"And why not? I was, in fact, 100% serious." You leaned back against the bar, tossing a coy look towards the younger clone. You hadn't been serious at the time of course, but there was something about this cute trooper.
You wouldn't say no if he seriously wanted to take a picture.
"Tup, seriously, man, ignore her."
You pouted over at Matt, and he stuck his tongue out at you.
"It's okay," Tup said, speaking for the first time. "I liked it."
You'd heard that same voice many times, but there was a unique inflection to each clone's tone, or timbre. There was a breathiness, almost, to Tup's voice, not quite the gravelly, booming tones of some of his brothers.
It was certainly very different from Fives' voice, which Matt would say dripped with sex appeal, but you would say flashed with trouble.
Matt would say that it's the same thing, of course.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Tup asked, eyes fixed on you.
You were pleasantly surprised, but smiled instantly. "Of course, Tup. Thank you."
Matt's jaw had dropped beside you. "Did I go for the wrong brother?"
Fives smirked. "If you wanted a drink, all you had to do was ask."
"I shouldn't have had to," Matt sniffed, though his lip twitched into a smirk of his own.
"Well then, how can I make it up to you?"
Matt's fingers lightly trailed along Fives' wrist. "I have a few ideas."
You turned to Tup and mimed gagging. He snorted.
Only a couple seconds later, the bartender dropped your drinks off, and you were further surprised that Tup had ordered another rum and cola for you — how he had guessed that was your drink in the mix of drinks he'd seen you with earlier, you couldn't fathom, but Tup saw the surprise in your expression and smirked just the tiniest bit, raising his beer to his lips.
You took a sip of your drink, good mood raising even more. There was more to this cute clone than you'd thought.
"So what brings you and your friends here tonight?" Fives asked you and Matt.
"What else?" Matt grinned.
"A good time," you finished.
Fives flashed a salacious grin. "What kind of good time?"
You both laughed. "The kind with good friends, good music, and booze."
"That's not just a good time," Fives said, smiling more warmly now. "That's the best time."
You smiled too. "True that."
"And are you having a good time?" Tup asked. You looked over, thankful that the music was loud enough to where he likely couldn't hear the way your breath hitched at the way his eyes were locked on you.
"The best time," you said. And you dared to touch his hand, just barely skimming your fingers over the fabric of his glove.
The apples of his cheeks grew rosy.
The night drew on, the four of you laughing and chatting at the bar. Victor barged over at one point, just long enough to grab a round of beers and spotchka before heading back to the sports screens. Takai swept over for another drink as well, a trio of men flitting around them. They winked at you and muttered not to wait up for them. You winked in return. Jane and Bera emerged from the dance floor at one point, introducing themselves to Fives and Tup. But as soon as Jane's new drink was set down on the bar, her face fell.
"I have to hit the fresher again."
"You broke the seal," Matt trilled, haughtily.
"Fuck you and your enormous bladder."
"How have either of you not caved yet?" Bera said, eyeing both you and Matt like you were gross but mildly fascinating lab organisms.
You hated to admit it but, "I'm actually reaching my limit."
Matt glared at you, offended and disappointed. "You dumb bitch, you're dead to me."
"Love you too." You blew him a kiss.
"I'll come with you," Fives said. "I know my limits, too."
Matt adopted the most pathetic, dejected look you'd ever seen. "I definitely went for the wrong brother."
Fives smirked. "We'll see."
You snorted before smiling over at Tup. "Watch my drink, sweetie?"
On the way to the freshers, you leaned over to Fives, muttering low, "Matt enjoys a good manhandling, by the way."
Fives quirked a brow, lips turning up into a panty-dropping, boner-inducing smirk. "Good to know." His smirk shifted into something more of a smile. "Tup likes when people mess with his hair, but beyond that I'm not sure what he likes. Not sure he does either."
You smiled. "Guess it's up to me to help him find out."
"Go easy on him now," Fives laughed. "When he came back to the table earlier his face was nearly purple. What did you say to him?"
You laughed, simply winking in response.
As the night stretched into the early hours of the morning, you found yourself back on the dance floor, the feel of the bass in your chest not nearly as intoxicating as the feel of Tup, dancing just in front of you.
You had come back from the fresher with Jane, Bera, and Gives, finding Tup still at the bar chatting with Matt and another clone, this one bearing a Republic cog tattoo around his head. Tup's hand was curled protectively around your drink. Your heart warmed.
"We're back," you announced. Matt sniffed, but Tup smiled over at you, cheeks looking rosy again. Whether from the empty glass in front of him or the sight of you, you weren't sure though.
You liked to think it was you.
The clone with the Republic cog tattoo turned. He smirked. "Hey, I'm Jesse. And you are?"
You smirked back. "About to go dancing." You tossed back what was left of your drink and looked at Tup. "Care to join?"
Tup shot the tiniest, sly smile his brother's way before looking back at you. "Absolutely."
You held out your hand, and he took it. Your heart skipped. When had he taken off his gloves?
Didn't matter. You loved it.
As the two of you disappeared onto the floor, you could swear you heard a "Go, Tup," from behind you.
The both of you danced, you without reservation, and Tup more shyly. Awkwardly. He looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do at first, but the more you encouraged him, the more he got into it. He still moved a little awkwardly, but it was endearing.
The two of you slowly merged, coming closer and closer, until you realized suddenly that your chest was pressed against his, hands splayed over his shoulders and neck. Tup's eyes were wide, his hands hovering above your waist, unsure if he should touch you or not.
You smiled. He was just so cute.
"Is this okay, Tup?" you asked, sliding your hands back, ready to pull away if he said so. The last thing you wanted was to make this sweet clone uncomfortable.
But Tup's hands went to your hips, touching lightly, just enough to stop your retreat, then gripping more firmly, reeling you back in. "Yes."
You smiled, settling yourself back against his chest, but still wanted to reassure him. "It's okay if you're not comfortable with this, Tup."
"I'm not," he said quickly. "I mean, I am comfortable. It's just..." You couldn't tell if he blushed or not in the dim dance floor lighting, but the way his eyes softened and shoulders hunched a little told you he had. "I'm new at this. Sorry."
Don't apologize," you said instantly. Your hand slid up his neck slightly, just enough for your fingertips to brush into his hair. He shivered lightly. "Everyone's new at this at some point. There's nothing wrong with that. But I think you're cute, Tup, and I would like to have fun with you. Whatever you want that to mean."
Tup continued to look at you, expression a little unsure, but not uncomfortable. "And if that means I want to take a picture?"
Your eyes widened, a little surprised by the bold statement. But pleasantly so. Tup read your expression wrong, nearly backpedaling, but you fully slid your fingers into his hair, drawing your other hand down his chest in a caress. He shivered and leaned into the touch.
"If that's what you want, sweetie. All you have to do is ask."
And you kissed him.
* * *
Tup removed his bucket with a sigh. His entire kit needed a good scrubbing after that grueling campaign. He and the 501st had been back out for two months now, most of that having been spent on this latest campaign. But the battle was now won, and General Kenobi's 212th had swooped in to help the 501st fully secure the area. And now, with the victory won, the 501st found themselves able to relax. Sit back, get their minor wounds checked. Clean their armor. Touch up their hairstyles. And when General Skywalker announced that they were being given another liberty due to the hard work they'd put in on this last campaign, the entire legion burst into excited activity.
The journey back to Coruscant wasn't what Tup would call short, but he was excited to get back nonetheless. Back to you.
He'd have never predicted that you'd come into his life. Not in a thousand years. But eight months ago, when you'd winked and flirted with him at 79's, he found he could no longer picture his life without you. The two of you weren't what he'd call "official," not in a traditional capacity at least, but you were exclusive. You'd been so patient with him that first night, helping him learn what he liked and didn't like, his preferences and desires. He'd been fumbling, awkward, unsure, but you hadn't made him feel insecure in the slightest, instead smiling endearingly at him and encouraging him to voice his wants, no judgment, and always assuring him that if it was too much and he wanted to stop, that all he had to do was say so.
He never did. He never wanted to stop.
He hadn't actually taken a photo of you that night, though. Instead, he'd simply basked in the feeling of his cock surrounded by your fluttering, silken heat, and the feel of your hips against his, and your hands in his loose, errant curls.
Over time, Tup had grown into the dynamics and relationship. Grown into his wants and desires. Become more confident. More sure. More demanding in some aspects. He knew you loved it, especially when he leaned you back on your couch without ceremony or announcement, dragged whatever panties you were wearing down your legs, and feasted, guiding your hands into his hair.
He loved when you tugged on his hair.
Tup absently ran a hand over it. He didn't keep it in a knot anymore, instead having learned to braid it back in the way you'd taught him.
"I can't imagine that bun is terrible comfortable under your bucket," you'd said, running a comb through the curls after a steamy shower that had had you on your knees and his thighs shaking. "Why don't you braid it?"
You'd been right, of course, it was more comfortable under his bucket. But it was also a gentle reminder of you, each time he weaved the strands back. And he loved being reminded of you.
"Hey, Tup!"
It was Fives. The ARC came jogging down the hall towards the barracks, catching up with him. "Ready for liberty?"
"Ready to get out of this suit first," Tup said. His undersuit was disgusting and he was ready for a shower.
"Oh, yeah, same. But you know what I mean." Fives waggled his brows in the way only he could. "Ready to go see your lady friend?"
Tup laughed, but didn't answer beyond that. Fives watched the smile on his brother's face.
"You're happy, aren't you?"
Tup smiled. "Yes."
Fives smiled too. "Good."
"Don't act like you're not the same," Tup said, smirking suddenly. "I've seen the messages you send Matt, they make my eyeballs bleed."
Fives shrugged, entirely unapologetic. "Teach you to mind your own business."
"As if you've ever minded yours a day in your life."
Fives grinned.
The two split off, Fives heading for the bridge to hand in his report, and Tup went off towards the barracks and sonics. They were empty save for him, most everyone at the mess or medbay or the bridge handing in reports. Shucking his armor and piling it neatly at the foot of his bunk to scrub later, Tup tore off the top of his undersuit, leaving him in just his leggings. Tup gently unwove his hair, sighing as it came undone from the braid it'd been stuck in for three days. He definitely needed to use the sonic.
His pad pinged.
Tup glanced at it, wondering if it was a reminder from Appo or Rex of the due dates for reports (so like his homework back on Kamino), or Fives sending some meme from the holonet to the group chat, but Tup lit up when he saw your icon.
Picking up the pad, Tup clicked on the message, smiling. And promptly froze.
Missing you x
That was the message, a message that Tup barely read in favor of staring at the accompanying photo.
He wished he could say he looked at your face first, but instead his gaze was captivated by the expanse of your thigh, cushioned by the familiar sheets and blankets on your bed, leading straight up to the tantalizing curve of your ass and dip of your core, both just barely covered by a silken, slink of a shirt in a perfect 501st blue.
The buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing a trail of skin along your stomach, up past your navel, to the valley of your breasts, the barest hint of cleavage peeking past the hem. One collar was held in your hand, those hands of yours that drove him wild, and the other collar dipped off your shoulder, baring it in a stupidly seductive way. The length of your neck drew up, bare and devoid of the little dark marks Tup discovered he loved seeing on your skin, and only then did his gaze fall on your face.
He groaned softly, seeing the lusty gleam in your hooded gaze, the barest upturn of your lips in a tempting little smirk that begged to be kissed, the ever-so-slight tilt of your head, as if you could see him through the photo, and were inviting him to bed.
Tup's cock was already half hard, the things you did to him.
Another message pinged.
Hope you're safe x
For all the innocence of the message, there was nothing innocent about the photo. This time, you faced the camera more fully, allowing the slip of a shirt to fall more open, baring more of your breasts to him, but still not fully. Your hand had fallen from the collar to rest on your thigh, and Tup could practically feel its softness under his own fingers. And just at the apex of your thighs, Tup saw your other hand disappear past the folds of blue fabric.
He groaned again, his own hand flying to palm his hardening cock.
Maybe I'll cook up your favorite when you get back? x
A third picture followed. You had allowed the shirt to fall fully off your shoulders, its length resting down your arms, and fully baring your chest to him in a way that made Tup groan again and press harder down on his cock. You reclined yourself back against the plushness of your pillows, hand spreading your glistening pussy lips wide open for the camera.
Tup couldn't take his eyes off the way you bit your lip and the way your eyes gleamed with arousal. Clutching the pad hard, Tup used his free hand to shove his leggings down just far enough to release himself, and took his throbbing cock in hand just in time for the next message.
Or maybe we could go to 79's? Get all our friends together for a night out? Maybe get Jesse and Takai to stop dancing around each other? x
Your eyes were closed in pleasure, mouth open just the slightest bit as your talented fingers dipped into your pussy. Tup could see the way your walls stretched around them, and could practically feel the warmth and wetness of you around his own fingers, which worked steadily up and down his cock. Pausing to spit in his hand, then resuming, Tup found himself wishing it was his hand cupping your breast and in your pussy, and your hand on his length.
And don't worry, I'll do your laundry x
Your hand pinched at your pert, swollen little nipple as the other worked inside you. Your legs were now splayed open, giving Tup a perfect view of everything you had, and the way your arousal was clearly dripping onto the sheets beneath you. Tup began to pump faster.
The photos kept coming — you, massaging your tits and pinching your nipples with shining fingers. You, three fingers working deep inside your pussy and massaging in a way that made it clear how much you were enjoying yourself. You, your fingers in your mouth, tasting your own sweet, heady nectar. Tup brought his thumb up to his tip, catching the beading precum to smear it along his literally throbbing cock, imagining the taste of you on his tongue.
More photos came in, each of them accompanied by some innocent, innocuous, casual message. All the way until you had your head thrown back in ecstasy, your thighs clenching in a way Tup recognized, and he knew you were cumming.
The sight of it made him burst, his hand pumping furiously until he exploded all over his fingers and stomach and thighs.
It took several minutes for Tup to come down and catch his breath. Good thing these leggings already needed to be washed. Because they were now thoroughly soiled.
And he was still rock hard. He always was when he thought of you, minx.
One last message pinged.
Hurry home, sweetie x
You smiled at him through fluttering lashes, sated and entirely too proud of yourself.
Tup was so going to get you back repay you for this. And he'd love every second of it.
* * *
You found yourself refolding the blanket on your couch from where you'd been tucked beneath it earlier, reading, when your pad dinged. Your smile was a little mischievous as you opened the message.
Miss you too x
The photo of Tup's hard, thick length in his hand was glorious, made only better by the sight of his seed smeared on his fingers, stomach, and legging-covered thighs. You grinned, bright and happy. You couldn't wait for Tup to get home.
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darthtaoshay · 1 year
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Do people actually read fics for Tup? Cause like I want make sure before I end up writing well over 3K words for this man
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abnormalcleric · 1 year
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"Good soldiers follow orders" was Dogma's thing. He and Tup came from a squad that went through some heavy shit before they were all wiped out and Rex picked the two of them up out of the rubble. (side note: that was why he had to make sure that Tup specifically was okay before going on this mission) Every time Tup questioned an order or Dogma thought too hard about the war, he would remind himself and Tup that a good soldier followed orders. A good person did what was right. He and Tup were good soldiers, not good people. They followed orders.
Then Umbara happened and Tup lost that constant reminder. He started to wonder if he really was a good soldier. If any of the 501st were good soldiers. Rex constantly pushed Anakin to reconsider plans, especially after Umbara. Fives openly questioned everything his superiors told him. Ahsoka never did anything she was told, but she outranked Rex, so he cut her some slack.
By the time he got lost on Ringo Vinda, he was so unstable from this conflicting information, it really wasn't hard for something to go wrong in his brain and set the inhibitor chip off. That's a post for another day. After the chip went off, he figured it out. He was a good soldier. He always had been. Dogma had taught him how to be a good soldier. Good soldiers follow orders. And right then, his orders were to finish this battle. But he also 'knew' that the Jedi had betrayed the clones and he had to protect his squad. Good soldiers follow orders. He didn't know at that moment if he was a good person or a good soldier.
Then, after he died, Fives just repeated what he had heard.
Crosshair overheard people talking about the incident and the words found a place in his head.
Wrecker was just parroting Crosshair.
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big1ron · 2 years
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“5385? Doesn’t ring any bells. Who’s asking?”
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kratosfan6632466 · 2 years
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Clones reaction to you telling them that you love them
Rex : I love you too cyrika
99: wait you do???? *blushed*
Cody : hm I know
Jesse and fives: who doesn’t???
wrecker: aww I love you too meshla now gimme a hug!
Echo : aw that’s very sweet of you to say
Tech : why?
*Crosshair smirked and pecks your cheek *
hunter: somehow I already knew you did
Hevy : love ya too sweetheart
Kix : gee…..I love you too I thought you wouldn’t have
Dogma : oh really?
*Tup blushed shyly *
Jester : *gasp* I was gonna tell you first!
Chopper ((clone)) : even though I made a droid finger necklace????
If you recommend a clone I can continue these
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kimageddon · 2 years
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A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 88
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Maul x Nightsister OC
Contains/Warnings: none
Chapter Summary: Zaiya encounters hug therapy and Crosshair contemplates his feelings.
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Downtime - Part 2
She recalled the same feeling when Boba had done this but Hardcase of course was significantly bigger than the boy. Her arms hovered in the air for a moment before she forced herself to relax and lower one hand to rest on his arm across her chest and the other gently patted his back. 
He was very warm, even through the fabric of the cadet uniform and seemed much larger than her all of a sudden. He was firm and very strong, she realised. She also realised she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a hug from anyone … it had to be Adaji. She remembered thinking a while ago she regretted not giving out more hugs but… it just felt like such an odd thing for her to do. That being said… she did not mind such an embrace. He lingered for a moment longer, his face close to her ear. 
“You alright there, Hardcase?” she asked softly. 
“You… you’re just… you’re so good to us,” he whispered in a ragged tone. Was- was he crying? Her eyes widened and he just held on a little tighter. She petted his back hesitantly and her eyes drifted to the others, a wide-eyed expression on her face. Ninety-Nine had a hand over his mouth and was struggling not to laugh. Tup had a tiny smile on his face and Soul had the biggest tooka eyes she’d ever seen on a human. Dogma however looked like he was about to faint.
“H-Hardcase! You can’t…! She’s the Lieutenant-General!” Dogma sputtered. That seemed to get to him and Hardcase pulled back a little, then he realised his hands were on her waist and quickly let go. 
“Better?” she asked, and he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. 
“Y-yeah, sorry about that… I just… the others, and even the brothers that have deployed… people don’t treat us like you do,” he finally looked at her. 
“Well I cannot speak for others,” she frowned, unable to hide the distaste in her voice. 
“Wow… I feel… you-you give really good hugs, has anyone ever told you that?” Hardcase grinned, he looked rather energised now. 
“...Hm… not really, I don’t--” she glanced to the side and cleared her throat. “It doesn’t happen often,” she explained and shifted awkwardly.
“Well I’m fixing that!” Hardcase announced and she looked up sharply as he strode over and dragged Tup by the collar, practically shoving him in her direction. “Hugs! Right now!” 
Was he serious? She was his Lieutenant-General. She was a Nightsister and Right Hand to a former Sith! And-and she was having soldiers flung at her to embrace them? It felt weird, awkward and -- then she realised if it was Feral or Savage she would not hesitate. 
“Well I suppose if we are testing Hardcase’s theory…” she muttered with a sigh and a closed smile. What could it hurt? Tup was hesitant and leaned forward, but as she carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he sagged and leaned into her a little. He didn’t linger as long as Hardcase but he seemed to enjoy the moment, from the smile on his face when he stepped back. Soul was next and ducked his head as he extended his arms. The whole scenario was so strange and certainly not what she thought she would be doing this morning. Soul was a little more slender than his brothers, leaner and he fit in her arms much the same way Feral did. There was much about him that reminded her of Feral, she wondered if he was just as mischievous too. She chuckled at the look on his face once he pulled back, he seemed to be a little flushed. 
“Hardcase was right…” he mumbled and finally Dogma stood there, wide eyed and rigid.
“I…this isn’t… I’m sorry--” Zaiya waved a hand and chuckled. 
“It’s alright, Dogma, permission granted,” she told him and he very hesitantly drew in. He was stiff and awkward but she could not blame him. She patted his back gently and honest to Goddess she heard the tiniest whimper in her ear. “It’s alright, Dogma…” she whispered so the others couldn’t hear. He squeezed her tighter and she smiled. 
“You… you smell really good…” he managed as he seemed to pry himself away with great difficulty. 
“Do I?” she asked, her head tilted slightly. He nodded but couldn’t meet her eyes, he looked so flustered… they all did. Hardcase was beaming. 
“I told ya!” he grinned, “but what about Ninety-Nine…?” Zaiya turned to look down at the hunched clone and smiled. 
“If he would like one…?” she offered and if it were possible, his smile became wider. 
“I would be honoured, Lady Siren,” he said fondly. He was not shy and as she leaned down, he wrapped her in a hug just as comfortingly warm as his eyes. 
“The honour is mine, Ninety-Nine,” she replied and after a moment they parted. She felt a little invigorated now and Hardcase looked as if he were ready to float into the air. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” she asked with a half-smile.
“Yeah! And if you ever want another--” he held out his arms and grinned, the look in his eye becoming more mischievous. “I could always satisfy your curiosity…” She levelled him with a flat stare, her brow rising. Did he really…?
“Hardcase!” Dogma snapped. He looked annoyed and she decided it was getting a little silly now. Hardcase must definitely be bold if he was saying such ridiculousness and messing with her. 
“Right, you boys have places to be and I need Ninety-Nine’s help with something so…” she gestured toward her office door, the baby batch seemed to be hesitant but Dogma was quick to usher his brothers away and saluted her. Zaiya returned with her Nightsister greeting and watched them as they departed, Hardcase looking back with a grin before the door closed. 
“I don’t know where they get the energy,” she chuckled and looked back to the hunched clone, moving to sit on the arm of the chair again to be more at his level. “They’re out of their barracks…?” she asked, in reference to their covert mission. 
“Yes, they have shooting practice with one of the other trainers, they were pretty upset it wasn’t with you though,” Ninety-Nine smiled. “Did you get them finished?”
“I did, here…” she stood again and went to one of the drawers in her desk, she took out some fabric items then placed them on the table before her, letting him see. There were a few squares of red cloth cut, embroidered with the letter ‘T’ and the edges hemmed. Then there was a necklace, painstakingly woven from similar red threads, wrapped around a bullet, the construction was called a bantha tooth. The next items were a couple of loops of the same red fabric, plainly made but useful for the purpose in which they were designed. The last was a black and red plush figure, floppy arms, legs and long ears, mostly black, made of a discarded body glove and the same red fabric on the tips of each limb. 
“You think it will help him sleep?” she asked, picking up the thing that was meant to be a tooka. 
“I think so, he used t’ have another one I made him, though it was all black, and my stitching wasn’ so neat,” Ninety Nine chuckled and held his hand out. Zaiya handed over the doll into his large hands, the kind-eyed clone regarded it with fondness. 
“What happened to it?” she asked, though she was sure she knew. Ninety Nine’s face became a little sadder. 
“The Kaminoans didn’t think it was necessary for a soldier… the one called Jeru-Ti had it destroyed.” Zaiya’s brow dipped into a scowl. She knew there was a reason she disliked that one. 
“Well he can’t get rid of this one, or else I will have many things to say,” she growled and ensured that Ninety-Nine had all the items in hand and concealed in a case she had procured for this reason. It was meant to be a surprise after all. “I will head to the range and keep them busy, if you take them and put the things on the boys' bunks, then they will discover them when they return.” she smiled, liking the sound of this plan. 
“You don’t want to give them to the boys yourself? I know Crosshair will really like this gift of yours, he seems quite taken with you,” Ninety Nine asked and Zaiya tilted her head, leaning back slightly. 
What was he talking about?  Her eyes narrowed.
“You shouldn’t tease my delicate hearts like that, Ninety Nine,” she scoffed, a smirk playing on her lips. “And as much as I would like to see their faces when they receive their gifts, it’s not about that.” She shook her head and stepped back, gesturing to the door, “shall we?” 
“Ladies first,” Ninety Nine gave a gesture of his own and Zaiya gave a little bow, lifting the now far shorter hem of her crimson sash as though she were lifting a skirt to curtsey. The clone seemed to find it very amusing and walked beside her as they ventured down the corridor. They parted ways at a junction and she promised to keep the targets of their little surprise occupied while Ninety Nine placed the items. 
The firing range was thankfully not too busy and as usual, Crosshair was destroying his brothers in terms of points. She strolled in casually, regarding them with interest as she watched them practise, at one point Hunter threw a knife and Crosshair shot it out of the air. Their own cheers dulled when it hit the target, but only when they were aware of her presence. She applauded, clapping one hand on the back of the other, a wide smile on her face. 
“Very clever,” she began but was suddenly yanked off her feet in a crushing hug by the taller of the four brothers. 
“Siren!!!” Wrecker beamed.
“Hey… Tiny…” she squeaked and chuckled as he nuzzled her shoulder. “Not like you didn’t see me yesterday,” she laughed breathlessly. 
“Aw I know…” he grinned.
“Put her down, Wrecker,” Crosshair hissed, stalking over. She assumed he was displeased with Wrecker embarrassing him by proxy, though she could see how Ninety Nine could have mistaken it for affection. 
“Seems to be the day for hugs today,” she muttered as the big clone gently set her back down. 
“Whaddya mean?” Wrecker asked. 
“Oh, some of the other clones deemed it necessary to give me a dose of ‘hug therapy’,” she chuckled.
“Pft… the regs thought they could--” Cross began but cut himself off and looked away. Since when had he cared for breaches of protocol? 
“Were they better than my hugs?” Wrecker asked earnestly and Zaiya brought a hand to her chin in thought. 
“Hmmmmm…” she gave a melodramatic look and stroke to her chin as if it were difficult to decide. Wrecker’s shoulders slumped and he looked at her with big dejected eyes. “I don’t think there is anyone that gives hugs quite like you, Wrecker,” she finally admitted and the change was immediate. His posture straightened and his face brightened. “They claimed to be testing my own capabilities but perhaps it was just the ridiculousness of the moment,” she shrugged. Wrecker’s eyes lit up like he’d had an idea but Crosshair interrupted. 
“Your sash is different,” he stated suddenly, his eyes narrow. Oh he was too perceptive for his own good.
“Is it?” she asked dismissively.
“It used to reach past your hand, now it’s only to the wrist.” He gestured to her left side and she had to force herself not to physically react more than a glance downward. 
“How interesting,” she muttered. “You've caught me, I have two, the other had gotten stained and needed laundering.” She met his eyes as she spoke calmly but Crosshair eyed her with suspicion. “How observant of you,” she said, enunciating the ‘t’. 
“It’s my job to be,” he retorted, flatly.
“Speaking of which, why don’t you show me some of your fancy new moves?” she asked with a half-smile. They always seemed to enjoy showing off a little, and she didn’t want them to think too hard about it.
----
The training session went well enough, and as always, Ver’alor Siren seemed pleased with their progress. Perhaps she was too free with her praise… but Crosshair couldn’t help it. It felt good to hear it. The strange warm feeling when she called him ‘perfect’. 
From the moment she’d appeared in their barracks in that cloak almost a year ago, he’d been curious about her. Then she showed up again a few months ago, and shot that toothpick into the target. He couldn’t explain the sudden rush of heat when he’d seen it. She was so different from the clones, the Kaminoans, then the war began and all these strange beings came to Kamino, yet she still seemed different. She was unafraid, accommodating, thoughtful… elegant. 
Always in control. 
The idea of her being touched and embraced by the regs made his blood boil, he didn’t know why he felt so angry, why he wanted to find out which of them it was and hurt them. It was bad enough that Wrecker had to jump all over her… and seeing the bruises on her arms from the larger clone’s punches had infuriated Crosshair. 
Though, that day… Seeing her in that state, wild, bloody, fierce. He’d never been able to forget it. He'd always seen her so calm, as she was now, but that night she had practically been feral… why had he liked it so much? 
He didn’t understand it. 
He also didn’t understand why he craved her praise so much. It was stupid. He didn’t need her approval. He was a soldier, he was engineered to be far superior than any regular clone. She was his trainer, so maybe technically her approval was needed. But she wasn’t one of his brothers. It wasn’t the same. So why did his chest feel tight when she looked at him like that? With that small smile and warmth in her good eye. Even her green eye seemed welcoming when she looked at him. 
He and his brothers were dismissed and Crosshair felt his feet were like lead, and he lingered in the hallway, turning back to watch Siren walk closer. The way she moved, the flutter of the sash she wore, the regal stance and her warrior braid… her eyes flicked to his and he fought not to look away. 
“Everything alright, Crosshair…?” she asked in that voice that made him want to shiver. She stopped close and he could smell her perfume. Damn it. He’d never been drunk before but he had to wonder if this was what it felt like. He felt lightheaded and his mouth was dry. 
“Fine,” he snapped. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be stupid. And oh he knew how stupid he was being.
“Of course you are, I don’t think anything could ruffle you.” Was she mocking him? She had to know what she was doing to him… was it on purpose? Her gloved hand petted his pauldron and he felt her finger brush his neck. 
He took in a sharp breath. The contact bolted through him like a shock up his spine. What the kark was wrong with him? Perhaps he should ask Tech, he didn’t trust the Kaminoans or their stupid droids. He only trusted his brothers. 
He must have tensed or his face changed as her brows furrowed slightly and she slowly removed her hand. She seemed to school herself into a more professional manner and he steeled himself too. 
“M’ fine,” he repeated, quieter. 
“I know,” she replied, “still, a rest cannot hurt, right?” Her voice was so soft, uncharacteristic of her usual cadence. Was she worried about him? Meanwhile all Crosshair could do was nod. After she departed, he stood there for the longest time, willing himself to move. 
To do something. 
Eventually of course he must have, as Wreckers shouts permeated the fog of his mind. He had reached their barracks to see his brothers exclaiming over something. To his surprise he noticed Wrecker had a hold of that stuffed toy. Crosshair hadn’t seen it for ages, --hadn’t it been taken by the Kaminoans?
“Lula!” He boomed and held the little stuffed toy tooka aloft. “And you got fixed!” Wrecker held the tiny red paws between his almost comically large fingers. 
Wait… red? The previous one didn’t have red fabric. 
“Look, Cross,” Hunter spoke up and held up a piece of red fabric himself, a loop of scarlet which Cross wasn’t sure what it was until Hunter put it on his head. A headband…? “There’s something sewn into it… I don’t know what but… I was starting to get another headache and now it’s gone!” Hunter seemed happier and more relaxed than Crosshair had seen him in a long time. Crosshair turned to his last brother, curious.
“Did you get something Tech?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested. 
“Indeed,” Tech turned, pushed his goggles up his nose and held out a small scrap of fabric. Crosshair frowned slightly, just that? “It is for cleaning my goggles and screens!” he smiled, “very useful.” 
It was just like him; Tech always had preferred more practical things. It seemed that the gift-giver had been very thoughtful with each one of their little presents. 
He usually would not have asked about it, or cared too much. All of this to drag his feet over to his own bed - he was hesitating. Part of him was fearful. What if he didn’t have anything? 
Or worse, what if he did? He’d put together where these little gifts had come from, the observation earlier of the shorter sash and the evasive answer she’d given when he’d mentioned it more or less confirmed it. Was that why she’d insisted on lingering after the training session? 
Sure enough, there was a glimpse of crimson on his sheets and he reached down to pick up the item. He brought it close and he realised the red was not just scraps of fabric, but threads, the fabric unwoven meticulously, then rewoven into long strands to be braided together into a cord. That cord passed through a hole carved into a bullet, from an old fashioned slugthrower. 
A Bantha’s Tooth. Crosshair had read about them, it was a sniper’s token in other places of the galaxy. The GAR sniper held it delicately in his hands, almost as though it were sacred. As he brought it closer to his face, he could smell her perfume on the threads, his chest ached and he brought the necklace to his lips, and kissed the fabric softly. He didn’t even know why, it just felt right. 
“What did you get, Cross?” Wrecker asked, always so nosey. Crosshair quickly put it on and tucked it under his body glove. 
“None of your business,” he grumbled. He knew Wrecker would pester him about it for a while, too insatiably curious. Though he didn’t care. He wanted to keep this to himself for a while, to just have something to himself. Something she had given him. His hand lingered over the place where it hung around his neck. He’d never been given anything before. Perhaps he never needed to be given anything else. This was enough. And yet he knew he was greedy, wanting more.
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Notes:
Hello my lovelies!
I hope you are doing well, some more fluff this week so if you have picked up on the pattern you know that I will be bringing the angst again soon. In next week's chapter, Consequences, Zaiya has to come to terms with repercussions of actions taken, and not taken. That will make sense next time.
As for me, thank you for the well wishes last week, I appreciate all of you and all of your kind comments and gifts! I got some amazing fanart and a wonderful fanfic OF THIS SERIES. I am blown away. This week is a little hectic too, unfortunately and I am actually moving this week, come Friday I will be relocating to an apartment and hopefully things will be less stressful there. Anyway, I hope you are all well and enjoyed this chapter, I love the comments, I love seeing the feedback, I love all of you! Thank you thank you!!! I shall see you all next week!
Taglist! @two-black-leviathans @fallenrepublick @eyecandyeoz @ashotofspotchka @sitherin-mxschief @littlepossss @octupus-on-the-moon @justalittletomato @nxctuaryninetythree @mach-opress @mustluvecho @nahoney22 @leotatombs @eloquentmoon @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @maulslittlemeowmeow @misogirl828 @alwayssnivellus @stardustbee @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @bacarasbabe @morganlefaye13
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tattycoram · 1 year
Conversation
Fives, stubbing his toe: Ow! Son of a bi-
Rex, pointing at Tup: Fives! Children!
Fives: ...iscuit. Son of a biscuit
Echo: Nice save
Fives: Yeah, fucking nailed it
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chiliger · 4 months
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They had a long day on the sparring mats.
Bonus:
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The slang out of Kamino is getting wilder.
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silverxsakura · 10 months
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The 501st — A New Look
A fresh new update on the original designs! It’s been so long, I reckoned they would benefit from a touch up :D
redbubble | graphics series
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freesia-writes · 8 months
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Clone Wars Dividers
We've got Wolffe, the generic 332nd, Cody/Waxer/Boil, Kix/Hardcase/Jesse/Dogma/ARC Echo/Fives/Tup/Rex, Howzer, and Gregor!
HELMET ART BY @lornaka -- please credit accordingly! <3 Dividers by me -- no need to tag/credit. I just added lines. 😂
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coldbrewarts · 5 days
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The fact that the fandom collectively loses their shit when one of those animated copy paste men even breathes is absolutely hilarious when you think about it.
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