THANK YOU FOR THE FLUFF IT IS SO SWEET AND PURE

THANK YOU FOR THE FLUFF IT IS SO SWEET AND PURE💗

37th Battalion (The Lucky Batch☘️)

Some soft Kenhla making sure the battalion’s medic takes care of himself. (I CAN WRITE SOFT THINGS,,, SOMETIMES)

Peps, take a break.

His head was pounding like crazy, and Pepper closed his eyes tightly as a wave of tiredness washed over his chest.

Maker, had the lights always been this painfully bright?

"Pepper."

The clone looked up from his hands and spotted a couple of red lekku framing Kenhla’s concerned face. She snapped her fingers over his eyes, trying to snap him back into reality, and with a quick cough, he straightened his back.

“Hey, General,” he said, his voice cheerful as always; yet the words were weirdly heavy in his tongue. His throat felt like sandpaper, the air rasping against his chest.

She frowned, unimpressed, and clicked her tongue. "Peps, you're definitely sick.”

"No, I'm not.” He coughed again, hard, and his vision blurred for a moment, his feet wobbling beneath him. Kenhla reached out to catch him, but the medic lifted his hand to stop her and gave her a slightly pained smile. “I'm fine."

The togruta raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “I had to call you four times before you responded. You’re not “fine”. Did you stay overnight taking stock of the medical supplies again?”

Pepper shrugged innocently, avoiding her gaze. He fiddled with his hands. “Maybe?”

“Oh, vod, we talked about this.” The Jedi sighed, a hand settling gently on his shoulders and giving him a small squeeze. “I know you worry we won't have enough to treat the wounded, but it's more important that our head medic takes care of himself first.”

He grimaced at her words, knowing she did have a point. But he just wanted to make sure everything was okay, with Jackal and Ballast always being on fire, Cypher and the others breaking their hands punching droids, the two little padawans who tended to stumble and scrape their knees—

“Come on,” she said, gesturing with her head towards the medbay. “Let’s get you something for that fever.”

“I’m alright, General, I promise."

“Either you come with me, or I’m telling Foxy you refuse to take care of yourself.”

He scrunched his nose. “…that’s not fair.”

“I don’t care,” she grinned, knowing she had him, and made an exaggerated gesture towards the end of the corridor. "Now move your shebs to a bed."

Pepper gave a defeated sigh and followed the Jedi to the medbay, making sure to put one step in front of the other. Kenhla guided him to the nearest free bunk and, with a gentle push, he found himself lying on the table, the cold pillow under his head a welcome sensation to contrast his feverish skin.

“I’m going to tell Brisk to make you some tomato soup,” she told him once he’d settled, and then pointed at him with both eyebrows raised. “Don’t you dare move from here, Peps. Trust me, I’ll know.”

The medic couldn’t help but chuckle at her tone, nodding slightly so as to show her he understood without scrambling the rest of his brain. Before turning around, she placed something on his chest and gave him a final cheeky smile.

“Get some rest, trooper. That’s an order.”

He couldn’t help but return the smile, the pressure in his temple now incredibly annoying as he lifted his hand to salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

As the general left the medbay to let him rest, Pepper looked down and found a “get well soon” sticker beaming brightly at him.

@lavenderstaars @mango-peachjuice @namesmox @lusiawonder @monako-jinn-stories @foxlock @cosmicghostie @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @radbatch @letsunity @longearedowlfromouterspace @maygalodon @catboy-tech @lynnpaper

JACKAL JANSJDNISBAJSB!😂 THIS IS SO FREAKING GOOD LOU!!

for the prompts list how about 24 with jackal?

Thank you for the ask Mox!! Have a little break from the angst brewing in my folders. (From this prompt list!)

Warning: mild swearing

24. “That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

His fist lunged forward, blindly, precise, and landed against something hard with a crack that echoed in the silence that had suddenly been cast on the bar. Everyone shut up to look at him.

Realization dawned on him a second too late as his eyes finally focused on what he’d hit. Or, more precisely, who.

Kriff.

And then Jackal was gone. The door snapped shut behind him along with the sound of crashing chairs as he practically flew outside, fleeing for his life.

“Fuck, fuck, kriff, I did it again, fuck,” he mumbled under his breath as he sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him down the alley, the thundering of steps and curses and threats of murder fervently lapping at his heels. “Kriff.”

Raffle’s going to kill me.

Not if they kill you first, another voice in his head helpfully added. It kind of had a point.

Suddenly a hand reached out from the dark and yanked him into the shadows, another one covering his mouth.

“Quiet,” someone hissed in his ear, and Jackal’s body relaxed when he recognized the voice. Sparks.

His heart was still beating wildly in his chest as he looked at his brother, his breathing quick from the adrenaline in his blood. In the dark behind him, he spotted Pepper keeping watch in case the gangsters got close and they had to run off again.

He got a smack on the back of his head.

“Ow!” He said with a confused frown, rubbing the sore spot. “What was that for?!”

His brother looked like he’d aged six years in the last hour. “That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“And that’s saying a lot,” the medic added, not even turning to face him, eyes still on the lookout.

“Hey!”

Sparks pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh, his hand dragging all over his face as he tried to find the words to express how exactly he had messed up.

“You punched a Pyke in the face, vod.” He looked like he wanted to strangle him, a mixture of disbelief and stressed annoyance on his face. “A kriffing member of the Pyke Syndicate.”

“It was an accident!” The pilot tried to defend himself, raising his hands up in the air at his burning gaze.

“I don’t think they care if it was an accident!”

Pepper hushed them, and the clones held their breaths and crouched further into the shadows as figures armed to the teeth ran down the alley at their sides. There were curses, shouts and endless promises of pain as they turned down the corner, chasing the soon-to-be-dead fool who had picked a fight with a member of one of the most dangerous, ruthless gangs in the galaxy.

Jackal didn’t need to turn around to feel Sparks reproaching glare on the back of his head. Instead he clicked his tongue and lunged as his brother brought his comm to his mouth after dialing a familiar code. The pilot quickly grabbed it from his hands and kept it out of his reach.

“Don’t call the Captain. I’ll tell you where the rest of the caff supplies are.” He promised, a small pleading smile on his face. Please?

He saw the debate going inside his brother’s head as he weighed the options for a moment. He held his breath in anticipation, but Jackal knew he had him when he stopped trying to take the device back.

“Fine,” Sparks finally agreed with a reluctant sigh, sharply pointing at him. “But not a word about this to anyone. You too, Pepper.”

They both grinned, placing their hands solemnly over their hearts. “You got it, vod.”

@maygalodon @cosmicghostie @namesmox @lynnpaper @lavenderstaars @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @radbatch @letsunity @mango-peachjuice @longearedowlfromouterspace @catboy-tech @lusiawonder @monako-jinn-stories @foxlock uhhh idk if i missed someone (sorry!)

lmao i’m making the lucky batch but it’s vines video

Cypher, white a whiteboard: there’s only one thing worse than a Jedi *removes a piece of paper* boom

Rane: a Padawan

Raffle: nO-

AHHH EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS AMAZING

37th Battalion (The Lucky Batch ☘️)

Thumbs is a sweetheart @oo-hazel-oo , and here’s a little ficlet of appreciation for the boy.

Tied together

Thumbs liked to knit.

Ever since the General had gotten him a couple of hooks and needles at his request, he’d slowly but persistently taught himself the ways of weaving: how to hold the thread so that it wouldn’t get tangled, the different kinds of stitches there were, the various patterns… He’d gradually practiced and practiced until yarning over felt as natural to his fingers as pressing the trigger of his blaster.

Brisk would smuggle him thick turquoise wool after a quick trip to the market on Coruscant, sometimes adding some small pastry she had baked herself wrapped neatly and tied with a bow.

Luna would occasionally bring him a bright, rainbow colored yarn that shone in the dark. (He'd always tried to get her to tell him where in the world she got the stuff, but the girl would simply stick out her tongue playfully and cheekily tell him it was "a top-Jedi secret", whatever that meant. He couldn’t help but smile and pat her head.)

His brothers would sometimes pitch in to get him a color he had run out of. He would find the replacement waiting at the end of his bunk, packed in a simple bag with a couple of thumb and heart stickers. Nobody would say anything, but the gesture never failed to make the corners of his lips tug upwards softly.

He could make little gifts for his friends: a sweater for Kenhla, a scarf for Brisk, a pair of fluffy mittens for Luna’s cold hands, pouches for his brother, a blanket for field missions…

War could be way too cold sometimes; he wanted to keep his family warm.

It wasn’t conventional, he knew. A being made for war, weaving socks instead of training his body or his shooting. A part of him whispered that it was useless, ridiculous, completely absurd.

What do you hope to achieve? Are you trying to make amends with these bloody broken hands?

Don't you know you're meant only for pain?

But he liked knitting. It was comforting to feel the yarn slip between his fingers gently, the piece he was working on slowly growing as he added stitches and time into it in the rare moments of quiet between battlefields and screams.

He tied them together carefully; every loop had a place, a role, and the whole thing wouldn’t be the same without each woven yarn tightly tangled into the final piece.

Every finished work, no matter how small, made the world shine a little brighter in his eyes; a little warmer. He’d put a bit of himself in it, a bit of his heart, and that meant something to a clone who’d all his life been told he was nothing. It sometimes meant more than he could ever imagine.

And it was kind of bittersweet, giving someone the thing he’d poured so much time and kindness and effort into, but it was worth it to see the smiles— to make the people he cared about feel loved. There was no more rewarding feeling than the one that bloomed in his chest every time he spotted his brothers or the Jedi wearing the gifts he’d made them, faces beaming proudly, comfortable in their own skin, unlike how he used to feel some times.

As soon as he’d finished his latest project, he’d immediately start with a new one.

After all, knitting was always better than letting his mind wander.

The ridge was half way down the steep, sharp cliff and the torrential downpour wasn’t making the job of carefully making their way through it any easier.

There was a yelp behind him as rocks behind him gave way, and he turned around fast enough to see, amidst the thick water curtain, Boots slipped.

Without a heartbeat of hesitation, Thumbs lunged.

His fingers managed to grasp his and he latched on fast, desperately, willing the world to stop for a moment as his brother dangled over the edge of the cliff, feet kicking wildly for purchase on traitorous rock. He could feel shuffling next to him and the Captain was probably yelling instructions through the coms from the way the sides of his head were buzzing, but he couldn't hear anything but the sharp downpour on his ears and his wildly beating heart.

Don't let go.

He held his brother's hands tightly as the wind roared, rain mercilessly splattering against their armor, so thick and cold he could barely move. His fingers felt numb, absent.

But he forced himself to clutch tighter, refusing to let the clone slip from his grasp. Refusing to give up.

He was not letting go.

With a grunt and a desperate burst of strength, he managed to pull his brother up to the ledge and, as soon as he’d made sure Boots' knees were secure on the ground, he wrapped his arm around him to keep him steady.

To keep him close and reassure himself he was safe; that he was still with him, with them, alive.

A brother had not fallen: Thumbs would never let that happen.

Even with the storm thundering around them, and water running like rivers down their armor, he could feel their frantic breathing, the raging beating of their hearts as the scare slowly washed away with the rain. Willing his knees to stop trembling, he slowly got back on his feet, back pressed hard against the ledge as he helped Boots up, aware about the way his own hand was shaking in his. But he gave him a nod, a reassurance to both of them, and straightened his back.

Standing next to him in line, Sparks placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out from the haze of terrible what ifs, the image of loss that had flashed inside his head in those few moments. He looked up at him and found in his gesture a message of gratitude and approval expressed quietly: good job.

And then they were off again, ears still pounding with adrenaline, feet shaking yet pushing forward. Thumbs tightened his trembling fingers over the slippery surface of the cliff, itching to reach once again to his brothers, to make sure they wouldn’t fall.

He would always keep them together, even if he had to pull every single string in the galaxy to keep his family safe.

@lavenderstaars @mango-peachjuice @namesmox @lusiawonder @monako-jinn-stories @foxlock @cosmicghostie @generaltano @radbatch @letsunity @longearedowlfromouterspace @maygalodon @lynnpaper

WE LOVE THUMBS BEING THE SUPPORTIVE BROTHER

Quiet Moments

I decided to write a sweet little bonding moment between Sparks and Thumbs. I am in no shape or form an experienced writer but I hope you all enjoy this bit of fluff before the upcoming angst nonetheless! 

Thanks to @just-another-dreamerr for helping me edit this! :D 

Thumbs belongs to the awesome @oo-hazel-oo !  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The sound of pained cries and screams fills his ears as the smell of blaster fire begins to suffocate him, with a seed of guilt and regret settles and begins to grow in his stomach, all these factors overwhelming the engineer. 

“This is all your fault.”

Sparks jolted awake with a sharp gasp. Taking in his surroundings, he tried to slow his elevated heart rate. The sound of his brothers’ snores and relaxed breaths reminds him that he was on the Clover. With a tired sigh, he got up from his bed and walked out of the room to avoid waking anyone. The engineer leaned against the now closed door with a tired sigh.

 ‘Well, at least I tried.’ He thought to himself as he ran a hand through his hair and down his face.

“Sparks?” He looked up to see Thumbs standing a few feet away from him, a concerned expression evident on his face. 

“Thumbs, hey.” Sparks straightened up, stepping away from the wall. “What are you doing up?” he asked, trying to seem casual.

 “It’s my turn to keep watch of the ship.” Thumbs stepped next to him, gently putting a hand on his often-stoic brother’s shoulder. “Why are you awake?”

 Sparks turned his head to look at the floor. “Ah, I just … I couldn’t sleep. That’s all.” He looked up at him, giving him a small, forced smile. 

Thumbs, unconvinced at his brother’s response, gave his shoulder a comforting pat. “You know I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I know.” He responded quietly. “Thank you.” The corners of his lips quirked up slightly, giving a quick genuine smile. Thumbs returned the smile with one of his own. 

’`Would you like to keep watch with me?” he offered. Sparks gave him a nod in response as they both walked to the cockpit of the ship. The engineer spoke up again, his voice almost too quiet to hear, “Thanks again, I needed this.”

 “Anytime, vod.” Thumbs responded as they both sat down looking out at space, enjoying the moment of peace and quiet together.

  @lavenderstaars  @mango-peachjuice @namesmox @lusiawonder

@monako-jinn-stories @foxlock @just-another-dreamerr @oo-hazel-oo 

@radbatch @letsunity @generaltano @longearedowlfromouterspace @maygalodon @lynnpaper @stereotypicalpicnicmat and anyone else I missed! :)

“I refuse to lose another padawn.”

Enjoy pepper using the lightsaber as a nightlight!

Art credits: NamesMox/ZenithFox (me)

@letsunity @lynnpaper @monako-jinn-stories @lavenderstaars @maygalodon @radbatch @oo-hazel-oo @just-another-dreamerr @lusiawonder @generaltano @cosmicghostie @foxlock and anyone else i missed!