#i will be posting the next few in a separate post

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Forty-Three: Uncharted Territory

Chapter WC: 10,140

Chapter Tags/Warnings: a little hurt/comfort, a taste of things to come...

A/N: Using this author's note to let everyone know I will be discontinuing my existing taglist(s) and starting a new one, so this will be the last post with the current list. I added a few signup rules for my sanity and some more options to the form, so if you'd like to rejoin be on the lookout for the post this weekend!

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Coruscant, 20 BBY

A week passed with little event.

You'd kept to your word, mostly, though it wasn’t easy. You spent the majority of your time reading in the gardens, catching up on the latest holos, or meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. At night, you call Rex. Sometimes, it's just to say goodnight, and sometimes, it's not.

You’re not sure what to call this place you’re in with your relationship. The two of you are in a holding pattern, waiting for the next step, waiting for you to be able to leave the Temple and see him. Waiting for the war to end. Waiting for the right time. For the opportunity to figure out where this is going.

You have a feeling that there is no right time. That the time you have now may be the only time you have to exist as people before the war separates you again, splitting you apart and throwing you to the far-flung corners of the galaxy.

You're trying not to think about it.

Rex seems more determined to focus on your injuries than on making good on his promise to take you to dinner. Like Obi-Wan and Wise, he's convinced that you'll keel over at the lightest provocation, and he wants to be sure that you are truly healed before the two of you meet again.

You have a feeling that, even after that, there will still be hesitation. It's understandable, considering your history. You’ve spent so long as friends, and denying even that at times, that the shift has been slow and careful. Neither of you are quite sure where the boundaries are, and it's taking time to figure out the lines.

This is uncharted territory. For both of you.

It's nice to have time to think about it, without the war interfering. Time to talk, and plan, and make promises. It's been nice to just exist for a little while, without the stress and pressure of the outside world. And it’s been a welcome distraction from the monotony of your 'meditative retreat,' as the Council had called it.

You're bored out of your mind.

You're sure Rex is tired of hearing from you at this point, given the number of times you message him in a day about everything and nothing. He always entertains you though, and he's a much better conversationalist than any of the plants in the gardens, so you're thankful for the time he spends talking to you. He seems amused by the fact that, without a battle or mission or meeting to keep your mind occupied, you're practically climbing the walls. You can hear the smile in his voice when you talk, the teasing edge to his tone and the affection in his words. He's glad that you're bored, because it means you're safe. And healthy. And that's all he's ever wanted.

And so, with nothing else to do, you continue with your daily routine, keeping yourself as busy as possible, and trying not to go crazy. 

There's still work, of course. You receive daily briefings from Booker, and you're not allowed in the war room, but you've been doing everything you can to keep busy. Madam Jocasta has allowed you to take up your old pastime of chasing down overdue returns, which has proved to be a valuable distraction, and, with her approval, you've been spending more time in the Archives than you'd originally agreed upon. The Council hasn't protested yet. Maybe they're grateful for the quiet.

But today is different.

Today, you're on a mission.

You're tired of sitting in your room and staring at the walls, and the Council can't stop you from leaving the Temple. The last of your bandages have come off, and you feel more like yourself than you have in months. With a few additional scars.

You stand in front of your mirror, a nervous energy buzzing inside you, as you examine your reflection. The skin on your shoulder is tender and pink, still healing, and you're covered in an assortment of new scars. The slash across your stomach is the most obvious, a thick, jagged line that stretches across your abdomen, and you can't stop yourself from reaching out and tracing it. You wince slightly, a phantom pain lancing through you.

It's not as bad as you thought it would be. You'd feared that the scars would be more severe, more prominent, more...dramatic. But in truth, they're not so different from the dozens of others that dot your body. They're a reminder of a life well lived, a life spent serving and fighting, and this is no different.

Besides, you're sure Rex has seen worse.

Your comm pings, and you sigh, pulling away from the mirror. A rapid fire series of messages from Booker flash by the holo screen, each more excited than the last. He's been counting down the days until you were released from the Temple, even offering to try to sneak you out if you'd needed.

You're fairly certain that was a joke.

The two of you had spent most of the yesterday holo-conferencing, discussing the latest intel and the changes that were going to need to be made to the brigade. You're not entirely sure he's supposed to be sharing so much with you, given the restrictions that have been placed on you, but, as he'd said, there's not a lot else for you to do, and if the Council wants to complain about it, they'll have to bring it up with him.

They haven't.

In the meantime, the two of you have been working diligently to catalogue the strengths and weaknesses of the brigade, and to develop a new strategy for combat. It'll mean reassignments, new squads, and a complete revamp of the command structure. The idea of changing things up hadn't thrilled Booker, and he's still not a hundred percent sold on the concept, but he's willing to give it a shot.

Today, you'll see what your men think.

You send Booker a quick message that you're on your way and grab your cloak, swinging it over your shoulders. The weight of the fabric feels odd after weeks without it, and you adjust the collar, smoothing out the wrinkles. Then you pull up the hood and unlock your door, poking your head out into the hallway.

The coast is clear.

With a final glance around, you slip out of your room, shutting the door behind you.

You hurry down the corridor, keeping to the shadows and moving as quietly as possible. Sneaking out of the Temple isn't a skill you've practiced in recent years, but it comes to you easily, the memories returning as soon as your feet touch the marble floor. You can't deny that a small part of you is a little disappointed that it's not as difficult as it used to be, and there's a strange sense of nostalgia that comes over you as you make your way through the halls, dodging the patrolling guards and the droids.

Still, it's not quite the same. The Temple feels colder somehow, emptier. The corridors are darker, the shadows deeper, and there's an almost oppressive silence hanging in the air. The halls are nearly empty, with the majority of the Jedi having gone offworld or to the frontlines, and those who remain are cloistered in their rooms or deep in meditation. It's not the lively, bustling hub of activity you remember from your youth. It's...quiet. And it feels hollow.

Maybe the war has changed things more than you'd realized.

The final obstacle is the pair of guards stationed at the entrance. They stand at attention, their weapons at the ready, and they glance in your direction as you approach. You nod your head, and they share a glance before nodding back, making no move to stop you.

And with that, the Temple doors are open.

It takes everything in you not to sprint down the stairs, but you manage, maintaining your composure as best you can. You land on the duracrete paving the path to the main gate with a soft thud, and a gust of wind blows through, whipping your cloak around your legs. It's a bit warmer than normal, and you take a deep breath, the smell of the city filling your lungs.

You're free.

Well, sort of.

As much as a Jedi can be free.

But it's close, and you can't stop the smile that breaks out on your face. You tug your cloak closer around your shoulders and make your way down the path, determined to enjoy your walk to the barracks.

You don't make it farther than a few steps before a voice stops you in your tracks.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you slowly turn around, coming face to face with Ahsoka. She stands proudly at the top of the steps, hands on her hips, a smirk playing on her lips. You swallow hard, and her smile widens, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Ahsoka," you greet as calmly as you can manage. You clasp your hands behind your back and tilt your head, feigning confusion. "How are you?"

"I'm great," she grins. She darts down the stairs with her typical speed and agility, stopping in front of you and arching a brow. Her eyes flick over you, taking in your attire, and her gaze lingers on your cloak. "You're not."

"I am," you protest, and she gives you a skeptical look. You sigh and roll your eyes, your shoulders slumping. "I'm fine. Really. I'm just...taking a meditative walk."

"A meditative walk," she repeats, folding her arms over her chest.

"Yes," you reply, lifting your chin. You meet her gaze, daring her to challenge you. "It's Jedi Master stuff. Very...deep. Very...spiritual."

"Uh huh," she hums.

She stares at you for a minute, her eyes narrowed, and you stare back, not daring to break eye contact. For a kid, she's remarkably intimidating.

"Are you sure you're allowed to do this?" she asks finally.

"Why wouldn't I be?" you counter. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to remain casual. "I'm fully healed. There's no reason I shouldn't be able to go out for a walk. Besides, it's not like I'm leaving the planet. I'm just taking a short trip to the barracks."

"The barracks," she echoes, and she tilts her head, smirking. "To see Rex?"

You blink a couple times, caught off guard by her directness. You'd forgotten how blunt she could be. How invested she appeared to be in your feelings toward Rex, or what she thought were your feelings. It's almost sweet, but you know better than to tell her the truth. You're already a bad enough example without adding that to the mix.

"No," you huff, rolling your eyes, and her grin widens. "I'm going to see my troops. And I'm taking the scenic route. I haven't been outside the Temple in weeks. I want to enjoy the fresh air."

"It is nice," Ahsoka muses, glancing around. She shrugs and looks at you, an eyebrow raised. "And the barracks aren't far. Maybe I'll come with you."

"You have other things to do," you reply, and you start walking toward the gate, determined not to be stopped again. You're not sure how much longer the guards are going to tolerate this conversation. "And besides, you're not allowed to leave the Temple either."

"I am with an escort," she says, jogging after you, and she falls into step beside you, matching your pace easily. She gives you a smug look. "I could use a meditative walk, too."

You glare at her, and she smirks, shrugging her shoulders innocently.

"Come on," she prods. She nudges your arm, her voice lowering to a whisper. "It'll be fun. And we haven't had any quality time together. Just the two of us."

You sigh and stop, rubbing a hand over your face. She has a point. And if you're being honest, a little time with someone not actively trying to drive you crazy sounds like a dream. You'd always enjoyed spending time with her.

"Fine," you concede, and she beams. You shake a finger at her, a warning. "But this stays between us. No one can know about this."

"My lips are sealed," she replies, crossing her heart. She grabs your hand and tugs, and you laugh, letting her drag you toward the gate. Within seconds, you're out into the busy Coruscanti streets, the two of you weaving through the crowds, and Ahsoka drops your hand in favor of looping her arm through yours.

"So," she starts as you dodge a pair of speeders and duck into a nearby alley. "Master Kenobi mentioned that you're grounded. Again."

"What else is new?" you snort.

"That sucks," she mutters, and you hum in agreement. She glances at you, a curious expression on her face. "The Council is still mad about Duro?"

"Yes," you say, and you shrug. "Although, in their defense, I did disobey orders. And I did lose the system."

"That's not true," she says with a frown, shaking her head. She looks at you, her brow furrowed, and there's a determined edge to her voice. "It wasn't your fault."

"I'm not sure the Council would agree," you chuckle.

"Anakin and I tried to tell them," she says, and she tightens her grip on your arm, her fingers digging into your bicep. "But they wouldn't listen. If I hadn't gotten trapped—"

"Don't do that," you interrupt, giving her a pointed look. You place a hand over hers and squeeze, a sad smile on your lips. "It's not your fault, either. I was the one who made the decision. It's not on you."

Ahsoka doesn't say anything, her gaze focused ahead. You give her a gentle tug, pulling her back onto the sidewalk, and she follows without a word. You glance at her, noting the troubled look on her face, and your heart twists.

She shouldn't be carrying this guilt. None of you should. But especially not her. She's still a kid. A kid who survived an orbital bombardment, a kid who lost her men, a kid who's seen more horror and destruction than any child should have to face.

"How are you holding up?" you ask quietly, your gaze fixed on the crowd.

"I'm fine," she replies automatically.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know," Ahsoka murmurs after a minute, and she chews her lip, a frown forming. "It's...it's weird. I can't really explain it. I don't think it's hit me yet. Or maybe it has, and I'm just...not feeling it."

"That's not uncommon," you say, and she nods.

"Anakin keeps asking me how I'm doing," she sighs. "It’s like he thinks I'm going to break.”

"He cares about you," you remind her gently. She rolls her eyes, and you chuckle, squeezing her arm. "Give him a little credit. He's not that bad. Mostly."

"He can be," she mutters, and her lips twitch.

"He cares," you repeat.

"Yeah," she agrees quietly.

"And so do I," you continue with a nudge. She looks at you, a skeptical expression on her face, and you shrug, smiling sheepishly. "I may not be the most qualified, given my track record, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

"I know," she smiles. She squeezes your arm and gives you a warm look. "Thanks."

"Any time. We can talk, or we can not talk," you add, and she laughs. "Hitting things can be good too. Very therapeutic. Especially with a lightsaber."

"Hitting things does sound nice right about now," she muses as her eyes flick toward the skyline. She glances at you, a playful gleam in her eye. "I bet I could take you."

You snort and shake your head, pulling her toward a food stall.

"Sure, kid," you chuckle. "Whatever you say."

The 419th's barracks are tucked away on the edge of the military complex, surrounded by a wall and a gate, the durasteel barbed and reinforced. It's one of a series of complexes for clone troopers, this one reserved for members of the Third Systems Army and their supporting battalions. There's a steady flow of traffic coming in and out of the compound, with transports carrying troops from other divisions and squads returning from missions, and you and Ahsoka have to duck and dodge through the chaos.

Booker is waiting for you at the gate. He stands with his hands folded behind his back, a pair of troopers flanking him, looking every bit the dutiful commander he is.

His face breaks into a wide grin as you approach, and he takes a step toward you, his eyes moving over you as if to check if you've gained any new scars or injuries since your last holo call.

"General Anathorn," he greets with a nod.

"Commander," you reply. You glance at the two guards standing watch behind him and smile, nodding your head in their direction. "Tenor. Olan."

They return your nod with their own, and their helmets give away nothing, but you know that they're smiling, too. You look back at Booker and lift an eyebrow, gesturing to the compound beyond the gate.

"Am I cleared to enter, Commander?" you tease, and he snorts, rolling his eyes. He pulls you into a quick hug, his armor digging into your ribs.

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters as he pats your back, a warm chuckle vibrating through his chest, and he releases you, pulling away. He juts his chin in Ahsoka's direction and smirks. "I didn't know we were bringing guests."

"I didn't have a choice," you huff, and Ahsoka shoots you a withering glare, her arms folded across her chest. You smile, and it's Booker's turn to arch a brow. "I ran into Ahsoka while I was sneaking out, and she decided to come along. I couldn't say no."

"No, you couldn't," she says with a grin, and Booker laughs.

"You're in for a show, Commander," he muses, running a hand over his mustache thoughtfully, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "We're getting ready for a training exercise. I can't promise it's going to be pretty."

"I'm counting on it," she replies, and he laughs again, motioning for the two of you to follow him.

You step through the gate, the troopers moving aside to make way, and the compound spreads out before you. It's a large area, surrounded by high durasteel walls, and a series of barracks and warehouses dot the space. A set of landing pads sits at the far end, a squadron of gunships parked on the ground, and a series of transports are lined up along the side of the path. Clone troopers move back and forth across the yard, performing various duties, and their voices ring out over the grounds.

As loud and chaotic as it is, it's hard not to notice how different it feels from the last time you were here. There's an air of unease that hangs over the compound, and there are less men than you're used to seeing. It's a stark reminder of the losses the 419th suffered. The losses the GAR suffered.

And it's a reminder of how lucky you are.

The three of you start toward the center of the compound, and the troopers snap to attention, saluting you as you pass. You can't deny that a swell of pride sweeps over you, tinged with relief. It's been too many days since you've been able to see them, and it's nice to feel a sense of normalcy returning.

"Have you heard anything about the next assignment?" you ask as you turn down a narrow walkway between the buildings.

"Not yet," Booker replies. He glances at you and then Ahsoka, an eyebrow raised. "You know you're not supposed to ask me that."

"And I'm not supposed to be here, but here we are," you mutter.

"Command is more concerned with gutting my brigade than giving me a new one," he huffs, shaking his head. He gestures toward the far end of the complex, and a group of men is clustered there, practicing various drills. "They're trying to reassign the troops to different divisions, but the majority of them are doing what they can to stay together."

"They're refusing to be reassigned?" Ahsoka asks, her eyes widening.

"Most of them are," Booker shrugs. He runs a hand over his head and pushes his hair back, the wind whipping the strands around his face. "I told them I would sign off on whatever decision they make, but the majority of them want to stick together. They want to stay with the 419th."

"Why would they do that?" she wonders.

"They're a family," you reply. "They trust each other. And after everything they've been through..."

Your voice trails off, and you stop, your eyes falling on a series of banners erected on the edge of the training grounds. They're a mix of gold and dark blue, a large starburst in the middle, and each one is emblazoned with the number four-one-nine.

"Those are new," you say quietly.

"They are," Booker agrees. He comes to a stop beside you and folds his arms across his chest, a small smile tugging at his lips. "The boys got a little carried away while you were out. I can't exactly complain."

"When did they do this?" you wonder.

"A couple days ago," he replies. He tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowing. "Right before command showed up to start evaluating the troops. The timing was...coincidental."

"I'll bet," you snort. You can't deny that you're a little impressed. "How much trouble did they get into?"

"Not as much as you'd think," he chuckles as he reaches up and rubs his jaw, a smirk playing on his lips. "Although, I may have taken the blame for a couple incidents. You know how these boys can get."

"I do," you smile. Your eyes flick over the banners again, and your heart warms. "What did the brass say?"

"That they'd think about it. What a load of shit," he huffs, rolling his eyes, before he clears his throat. "Sorry, Commander. Forgot my company."

"I'm used to it," Ahsoka says with a dismissive wave. Her gaze moves over the banners, a thoughtful expression on her face. "This is an impressive display. They must care about you a lot."

"We care about each other," you correct gently as you follow her gaze, taking in the sight of the banners fluttering in the wind. "And we'll do whatever it takes to stay together."

"I think they'd be upset if they knew I told you," Booker murmurs, his voice low. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. "Do me a favor and keep it to yourself. At least for now. We have other things to worry about."

"Of course," you nod. You glance around the complex and hum, arching an eyebrow. "Speaking of which, where are the rest of the troops? I'm used to them swarming us by now."

"They're already on the field," he says. He points to the far end of the training grounds, and you spot the troops assembled there, practicing maneuvers and drills. You can hear the shouts echoing across the complex, and your lips twitch as you catch Snap's familiar cadence rising above the rest.

"Well, it seems we're just in time," you chuckle.

The three of you make your way to the field, the men falling in line as soon as they notice you approaching. After enthusiastic greetings and one too many questions, the troops fall back into formation, lining up in rows with the sergeants leading them, and a hush falls over the field. You and Ahsoka take up a position off to the side, Booker standing between you, and he folds his arms over his chest, surveying his troops with a critical eye.

"All right," he calls out, and the troops straighten. "Listen up, men. The 419th is going through some changes. It's time for us to adapt and overcome. And we're going to do that today. I expect every single one of you to give it your all. This isn't a training exercise. This is a test."

There's a rumble through the crowd, a mixture of groans and mutters, and Booker's gaze moves over the troops, a stern look on his face.

"If you're not willing to work for it, I suggest you get off my field," he continues, and he pauses, waiting for a response. No one moves. He nods, and his face relaxes. "Good. Let's get to work."

The next hour is filled with the sounds of shouting and blaster fire. You stand off to the side, watching your troopers perform a variety of drills and maneuvers, each one designed to test a specific set of skills, as Booker explains to Ahsoka your plan. If you can convince GAR command that the 419th is capable of working as a specialized unit, one suited for stealth and precision attacks, the chances are good that the men will be able to remain together. The odds are slim, but, as Booker reminds you, the two of you have faced worse.

By the end of the first hour, you've already made a list of improvements and reassignments that need to be made. By the end of the second, you've started to develop a new strategy. One that will keep your troopers out of the spotlight, but still in the fight. And one that will hopefully keep them together.

“It’s promising," you admit. You lean against a nearby railing, your gaze moving over the field. Snap and Booker stand nearby, their heads bent close together as they study a datapad, and the sun is high overhead, the warmth settling into your bones.

"We can do better," Booker grunts, taking the datapad from Snap and scribbling a note in the margins. "This is just the beginning."

"I never said we couldn't," you snort. You look at him, an eyebrow arched. "But it's a solid starting point, and a valuable assessment. I think we can work with this."

"So do I," Snap offers, glancing between the two of you, and he takes the datapad from Booker, his eyes roaming over the screen. His hand runs over the fresh scar stretching across his temple to his ear absently, and he taps a finger against the display, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It'll be difficult, but if we can convince the brass, we'll have a shot. We've got a good team. And the men are willing to put in the work."

"Let's hope it's good enough," Booker mutters.

"It will be," you say firmly.

"General," a voice calls out, drawing your attention, and you look over your shoulder to see Wise quickly approaching. Your eyes widen, and you move to duck behind Booker, but he steps to the side, blocking your escape. You give him a panicked look, and he smiles innocently. Bastard.

"Wise," you reply, plastering a smile on your face. You fold your arms over your chest, trying to look nonchalant. "How are you?"

"Fine, sir," he grunts. He stops in front of you and glances at Ahsoka, raising a brow. "Commander Tano."

"Nice to see you again, Chief," she says with a grin.

"Likewise," he replies stiffly and looks back at you, a frown forming. "I thought I made myself clear."

"About what?" you ask, feigning confusion, and he narrows his eyes. You roll yours and huff, shaking your head. "I'm fine, Wise. There's no reason for me to stay cooped up in the Temple. I'm completely healed."

"I beg to differ," he snorts as his eyes move over you, taking in the new scars, and he sighs. "But, seeing as how you've managed to survive this far, I guess there's no stopping you."

"I'm glad you've realized that," you chuckle.

“Don’t push it," he warns. You hold up your hands in surrender, and Wise shakes his head. “Your healers sent me the final report. You’re cleared for light duty. Light. That means no fighting. No running. And no lifting anything heavier than a holopad. I mean it."

"I understand," you agree with a solemn nod, and his eyes narrow further. You shrug, an innocent expression on your face. "What? I'm being a good patient. I promise."

"Uh huh," he mutters.

"She has been," Booker pipes up, trying a charming grin despite knowing Wise’s immunity. "She's been very well-behaved. She hasn't caused any trouble."

"For once," Ahsoka snickers, and you glare at her.

"See?" you huff, gesturing toward them. "Even Ahsoka thinks I'm behaving. What more do you want from me?"

"To stop getting hurt," he deadpans.

"I'm trying," you mutter, rubbing your shoulder.

"Try harder," he advises. He sighs, and his face softens. "I know how difficult it is for you to follow instructions. I know that you think you're invincible. But if you'll recall, I was there scraping your sorry ass off the ground after Duro. You aren’t.”

"I remember," you reply quietly.

"So will you please," he says, and he takes a step toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, his fingers curling around the muscle, and his voice drops low, almost pleading. "Try not to get yourself killed? Or court-martialed. Or both. It's the least you can do."

"I'll do my best.”

He holds your gaze for a minute, something akin to a smile threatening his features, before letting go of your shoulder and stepping back. He nods and takes a breath, the professional mask sliding back into place.

"Good," he says, his voice gruff. He looks at Booker and lifts his chin, giving him a pointed look. "Commander."

"Wise," Booker replies with a nod, clearly suppressing a grin.

Wise turns, walking back the way he came. He pauses for a second, glancing over his shoulder and looking at you, his lips quirking. Then he keeps going, disappearing into the crowd.

"He likes you," Booker smirks.

"I'm well aware," you mutter, and Ahsoka snorts, shaking her head.

"He's a good man," she offers.

You hum in agreement and glance around the field, taking a breath. The air is filled with the scent of grass and dirt, and the noise from the city is muted, leaving you with a rare sense of peace.

You turn to Booker and tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thank you, Book. For everything. I'm sorry it took so—"

"It's fine," he interrupts, and he reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. He presses a quick kiss to the top of your head, his mustache tickling your forehead. "You know how it is. Besides, I'm used to taking care of you by now. Don't worry about it."

"I'm still thankful," you murmur.

“Yeah, well, I’m thankful you’re not dead," he replies with a shrug. “And your Captain is too, so I'd take advantage of that while you can. Who knows how much longer we'll have the chance."

You stiffen in his embrace, your eyes flicking to Ahsoka, who’s looking elsewhere, pretending she didn’t hear, and you elbow Booker in the side, earning a pained grunt.

"You're an asshole," you huff.

"Just telling the truth," he grins, and you shove him away, a scowl forming on your face. “It’s all I hear about. You this. You that. He was a pain in the ass before you got hurt. Now, he's a nightmare."

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat.

“What do you mean before I got hurt?" you ask slowly, and Booker tilts his head, folding his arms over his chest.

"What do you think I mean?" he replies.

"You've been talking to Rex," you realize, your eyes widening. Booker doesn't answer, a sly smile on his face, and you shake your head, pointing a finger at him. "You have. You've been talking to him. How often?”

"Not sure," he shrugs. "Once a day? Maybe twice. Obviously not when we were dark. But he's a bit of a worrier. He needed an outlet."

"He needed an outlet," you repeat incredulously, your eyes flicking to Ahsoka and back. She's studiously ignoring the conversation, her attention focused on a datapad. "And you…what? Provided that outlet?"

"I did," Booker confirms.

"Why didn't I know about this?" you mutter.

"I didn't tell you," he says, as if that should be obvious.

"Right," you mutter.

"Are we mad about this?" he wonders, an eyebrow arched, and you open and close your mouth a couple times, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"No," you decide finally.

"Then why are we still talking about it?"

"Because," you reply, waving a hand in the air, gesturing around. "This is my life. And everyone seems to know more about what's going on than I do. It's frustrating."

"Would you like a detailed recap of the past three months?" he asks. "Because I'd be happy to—"

"No," you snap.

"Didn't think so," he chuckles. He glances at Ahsoka. "Should we bring her in on this?"

“Bring me in on what?” Ahsoka asks, her eyes lighting up.

"Nothing," you say quickly, shooting Booker a withering look. He smirks, and you rub a hand over your face, shaking your head. “I’m leaving. Now. Before I lose my mind. I expect an update within the next twenty-four hours."

"Yes, sir," he snickers. He gives you a mock salute, and you sigh, turning away. Ahsoka falls into step beside you, and the two of you walk across the field, heading back toward the gate.

"Don't ask," you warn, and she laughs, giving you a sidelong glance.

"Wasn't going to," she replies, her lekku swaying with each step. She's smiling, her eyes moving over the various groups of troopers and officers. “They seem nice. I can see why you’re so concerned about them."

"They're the best," you admit. You gesture toward the gate. "We have some time. Want to do something before we go back?"

“Actually,” Ahsoka starts slowly as she comes to a stop, turning to face you. "I need to stop by the 501st barracks for a second. I...left something there."

"Alright," you agree easily, and you fall back into step beside her. She leads the way, weaving through the crowd, and the two of you walk in silence, the sun warm against your skin. 

The troopers outside the 501st’s complex nearly do a double take when they see the two of you approaching, but Ahsoka herds you through the gates before anyone can ask questions. You nearly miss two of them elbowing each other and whispering excitedly as the gate closes behind you, but the sight is quickly forgotten as Ahsoka drags you into a nearby building.

It's quieter than the 419th's compound. There are still groups of troopers moving through the grounds, but the atmosphere is more subdued with far fewer men present, no doubt enjoying their leave elsewhere. You follow Ahsoka as she leads you down a hallway, her footsteps echoing through the corridor, and her shoulders are tense, her movements sharp and jerky.

She's hiding something.

"Everything okay?" you ask gently, and she jumps, her head whipping around. She smiles, a bit too wide, and nods.

"Yep," she chirps as she comes to a stop in front of a door, her fingers tapping on her thighs. "Just have to grab something real quick."

"Alright," you reply, and you fold your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall. "Take your time."

She nods again and presses her palm to the access panel. The doors slide open, and she steps inside, vanishing from view. A minute passes, and then two, and you pull out your datapad, scrolling through the messages waiting for you. Nothing seems urgent, which is a welcome change.

You're halfway through a report from one of the Council members detailing the latest developments on Mygeeto when you hear a distant cheer. Your brow furrows, and you lift your head, glancing down the hallway. Another shout, followed by a burst of laughter, floats through the corridor, and the sounds of the men increase.

Your feet are already moving before you realize it, and you walk to the end of the hallway, peeking around the corner. The layout of the complex mirrors the 419th’s, so you aren’t surprised to find a common area on the other side of the open doorway. But you are surprised to see who’s inside.

Rex is sitting in a chair, his feet propped up on a table, his gaze fixed on a holoscreen. There are a handful of men scattered around the room, preoccupied with the game of dejarik in the corner.

You lean against the doorframe and watch, taking in the rare sight. Rex looks far more relaxed than the image of him you hold in your mind, his body loose, his shoulders slumping, and his head lolls back, resting against the back of the chair.

You bite your lip, the heat rising in your cheeks.

He looks...good.

Really good.

His upper armor is missing, and the sleeves of his blacks are rolled up, revealing his toned forearms. He's not wearing his gloves either, and your gaze moves over his hands, taking in the callouses and scars. You're not sure what it is about his hands, but they're incredibly distracting, and it takes you a minute to refocus your thoughts.

Rex leans back on two legs of his chair, his hands clasped together over his stomach, his thumb tapping against his side absently. There's a datapad next to him on the table, but it's powered down, and he seems more interested in watching the screen than whatever was on it. His face is soft, and his expression is one of contentment.

There's a tug at your heart, and a small, sad smile makes its way onto your features.

You wish you could keep him here.

"Rex," you call out

The response is immediate. His head snaps up, and he jerks, nearly toppling the chair in his haste to put his feet down. You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh as he regains his balance and stands up, running a hand over his hair, the chair clattering behind him.

"Afternoon, sir," he greets with a cough. He glances over his shoulder at the men scattered throughout the room, and a faint blush spreads over his cheeks. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Obviously," you tease. A few of the clones around him snicker, and Rex shoots them a warning look, shaking his head. "Don't stop on my account. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. He gestures to the men, his eyes still locked on yours as his voice turns stern. "Show’s over. Everyone out. And keep the noise down."

There's a chorus of grumbles and protests, but the men comply, filing out of the room. You wave to the ones who notice you, and they return the gesture, a couple of them mouthing 'sorry' before they slip through the doorway.

"Hey, General," Kix greets as he approaches, a grin on his face. "How's it going?"

“Fine, Kix,” you reply. You lean forward and give him a quick hug, patting him on the back. "Good to see you."

"You too, sir," he says as he pulls away, and his hands find your shoulders. He looks you over from head to toe, a disapproving look in his eye. "You should be resting. Any pain?"

"None."

"Nausea? Fatigue?"

"Nope."

Rex shifts impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot, his gaze darting between the two of you. Kix doesn't seem to notice, and you stifle a laugh.

"Any trouble sleeping?"

"No more than usual,” you assure him. "Really, Kix. I'm fine."

Kix purses his lips, his eyes narrowing, and he looks at Rex. "Sir—"

"Leave it alone, Kix," Rex cuts in. He nods at you. "The General has other things to do."

"But sir—"

"Out."

"Fine," Kix huffs, and he turns back to you, a concerned look on his face. "If Wise doesn't think you need it, then I'll spare you the lecture. Just don't push yourself."

"I'll try not to," you promise.

"Good," Kix says, and he gives your shoulders one final squeeze before letting go. "It's good to have you back, sir."

"Good to be back."

"See you at 79's?" he asks with a smirk as he starts to back away. Rex lets out a quiet groan, and Kix throws him a smug look, a knowing gleam in his eye.

"Depends on my babysitter," you reply, tilting your head toward Rex. He rolls his eyes, and Kix laughs, giving him a playful shove as he walks by.

"I'll put in a good word," Kix says over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Kix," you call out.

Rex gives him a warning look, and Kix's laugh echoes down the hall as he disappears, leaving the two of you alone. You look at Rex and smirk, folding your arms over your chest.

"What?" he asks, his eyebrow arched.

"You're very demanding today," you tease. "Some would say eager.”

"Eager to have a normal conversation," he mutters.

He rubs a hand over his face and sighs, shaking his head. He's clearly embarrassed, and the flush that had started in his cheeks is now spreading across his nose and ears, painting his skin pink. He glances at you, his gaze meeting yours for a split second, before he looks away, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"How's Booker?" he asks, and his voice is low, his tone serious. "How are the men?"

"They're good," you reply with a shrug. You lean against the doorframe and look up at him, tilting your head. "I'm sure Booker filled you in. Since he’s been sending you so many messages."

Rex's face turns a deeper shade of red, and he runs a hand over the back of his neck, a sheepish expression on his face.

"I didn't ask him to," Rex counters, and you snort, rolling your eyes.

"You didn't tell him not to, either," you point out.

"Well," Rex starts, and he pauses, his eyebrows furrowing. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, struggling to find the words until he finally sighs, shrugging his shoulders. "Alright, I did tell him to keep me updated. But I didn't think he'd take it so literally. Or so much."

"It's Booker," you laugh. "What did you expect?"

"Fair point," Rex concedes, and he chuckles, his gaze flicking back to the screen. A recap of last week’s bolo-ball game is playing, and the announcer's voice fills the silence between the two of you.

You study him for a minute, a small smile playing on your lips.

"So," you start.

"So," he repeats.

“Kix seems…chipper,” you remark casually. You watch Rex tense, his shoulders going rigid, and he takes a deep breath, his eyes closing. “Usually he’s not so…eager to see me. Unless there are bandages involved. What happened?"

"Nothing," Rex says quickly. He avoids your gaze, his focus intent on the screen, and you narrow your eyes.

"Rex," you prod.

"Nothing happened," he repeats.

"You're a terrible liar," you laugh, and he sighs, finally turning to look at you. He stares at you for a minute, his brow furrowed, and he seems to be studying your face, trying to read you. Finally, his shoulders sag, and he shakes his head.

"The men were...they've been talking,” he explains hesitantly.

"Talking about what?" you prompt, and he winces, crossing his arms.

"About us."

"Oh."

You blink a couple times, processing the information. Your gaze shifts back to the hallway, where the sounds of the men are muffled, and you try to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.

It's not like the rumors are new. You’d tried you best to put them to bed with Torrent Company, and the rest of the 501st, but it was clear the gossip had spread, and the whispers had continued, regardless of your efforts. And after you were reunited on Duro...well, they had to be rampant. Especially after what Ahsoka had implied.

And if Kix was comfortable teasing Rex about it, maybe it was less of a secret than you thought.

"How bad is it?" you ask finally, stepping into the room and letting the door close behind you.

"Not great," Rex admits. He clears his throat and glances away, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I may have said a little more than I should have."

"What does that mean?"

"That I...may have implied..."

"You implied something," you prompt, and his ears go red, the flush returning in full force.

"Yes."

"Rex," you sigh, and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut. He scrubs his hands over his face and pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

"I know, I know," he says. He opens his eyes and looks at you, his expression guilty. "I didn't mean to say anything, I just...it sort of slipped out. The boys were asking questions, and it got out of hand. And now..."

"Now they know we've kissed," you finish, and his eyes widen.

"No, no, that's not what I told them," he says quickly. His expression is almost comically horrified, and the guilt is clear on his face, his eyebrows drawing together. "I would never tell them anything like that."

"Then what did you tell them?"

"That I..."

He trails off, his eyes finding yours, and there's a softness in them, a gentle tenderness that takes your breath away.

"That I'm very fond of you," he finishes quietly. He shakes his head and chuckles. "And that I would prefer they keep their mouths shut. Or at least keep the speculation to themselves. Which...isn't working. Obviously."

"So," you hum, and you take a step toward him, a coy smile playing on your lips. You tilt your head, a challenge in your eyes. "They don't know we've kissed. But they know you're fond of me. That’s nothing new.”

"I may have also...alluded to the fact that I was worried they might scare you off," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. He runs a hand over his hair, and his eyes flick back to the screen, as if it'll give him the answer. “And that if they kept talking about it, or asking questions, it would...complicate things."

"Because you're so fond of me," you tease. He groans, his hands covering his face. “That’s sweet, Rex."

"I wasn't trying to be," he grumbles as his hands fall away, and he gives you a pleading look, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to. I just...wanted to make it stop. They wouldn't listen."

"It's fine," you assure him. You shrug, giving him a small smile. "It's not like you gave them details. We can deal with a little speculation."

"Yeah," he agrees, his voice a little hollow. His hands find his hips, and he glances down, frowning. "I'll have a talk with them. Again."

“Rex, stop,” you murmur, and you close the gap between the two of you and reach for his hands, taking them in yours. He freezes, his eyes moving to where your fingers are tangled together. “I’m not upset. It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," he protests. His gaze moves back to yours, and his brow furrows, his head shaking. "You don't deserve to have your reputation questioned. Booker told me what happened with the Council. You can't afford any more trouble. Not after Duro. If the rumors get out—"

"The rumors will die down," you say with a shrug. You squeeze his hand and pull it closer, bringing his knuckles to your lips. He stiffens, his eyes going wide, and you brush a kiss across a scar, watching his reaction carefully. "Eventually. But, in the meantime, I'm sure we can come up with some sort of strategy."

"Strategy?"

"Mhm," you murmur, and you press another kiss to his hand. "For damage control. In case someone sees something they shouldn't."

"Ah," Rex breathes, swallowing hard. He's gone still, his eyes fixed on your lips, and his jaw works, as if he's trying to figure out what to say.

"And, who knows?" you continue, and you turn his hand, bringing his palm to your mouth. You press a soft kiss to the center and trail your lips to his wrist, his pulse beating against your mouth. "Maybe it'll make them keep their distance."

"Maybe," he agrees. His voice is rough, and his eyes are glued to you, a faint flush in his cheeks. You smile and release his hands, stepping closer. His arms wrap around your waist instinctively, and he pulls you against him, a small sigh escaping his lips. "I'm still not convinced that the risk is worth it. Especially now. The rumors have been getting worse since Duro."

"I know," you say. You place a hand on his chest and lean into him, your forehead resting against his, and he closes his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. "I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"This is...this is more than I ever could have dreamed of," he murmurs. "I'm not complaining. Just cautious.”

"You sure?" you ask with a teasing smile. You reach up and stroke his cheek, tracing your fingers along his jaw. He shivers and leans into your touch, his grip tightening on your waist.

"Positive," he says. His eyes flutter open, and there's a look in them, a desire, that sends a shiver down your spine. "As I said, I'm fond of you."

"Just fond?" you tease.

"Very fond," he replies with a smirk, ducking his head to brush his lips against yours.

"Me too,” and you push onto your toes, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. You pull away and press a second kiss to the corner of his mouth, and a third to his cheek, before nuzzling his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"I've missed this," he whispers. He tilts his head and rests his chin on top of yours, his arms wrapping around you. "I've missed you."

"Me too," you repeat softly.

“It’s good to have you back.”

The two of you stay like that for a minute, his hand stroking your back, the other cradling the base of your skull, and your arms looped around his waist. Finally, he presses a kiss to the top of your head and pulls back.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you until the end of the week. At the earliest."

"I couldn't stay cooped up any longer," you reply with a shrug. “So I’m checking up on the men.”

"Right," he sighs, shaking his head, a frown forming on his face. "Don't get me wrong, it's great to see you, but shouldn't you be...I don't know, relaxing or something?"

"I have been," you say, and you pull away, taking a step back. You shrug a shoulder and lean against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "Meditating. Reading. Relaxing."

"Right," Rex replies skeptically. He tilts his head and raises a brow. "Have you?”

“Yes, thank you,” you reply with a huff, rolling your eyes. “Not sure why everyone's so convinced I'm not capable of doing so."

"Because you're not," he answers dryly. You shoot him a glare, and he holds up his hands, his expression softening. "Look, I get it. It's frustrating. But you have to admit, you're not the most...restful individual."

"Wow, thanks."

"You know what I mean," he sighs. He shakes his head and gives you a pointed look. "The men will understand if you need some time. They're not expecting you to jump right back into things. They're just happy to have you around. But that doesn't mean you should push yourself."

"I'm fine," you assure him, and he rolls his eyes, scoffing.

"Yeah, okay," he mutters.

“Rex,” you huff, and you rub a hand over your face, a wave of frustration washing over you. “There’s only so many overdue library books I can track down before my brain starts to melt. I'm going crazy. And I haven't had any visions, which, believe me, is a good thing. I just can't take much more of being trapped in my room."

"So," he starts slowly. He takes a step forward, his eyes meeting yours, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Let me get this straight. You snuck out of the Temple with Ahsoka, walked all the way here to see the men, which you're not supposed to be doing. And now, you're trying to convince me that, after all of that, you're not pushing yourself."

"When you put it like that, it sounds worse than it is," you protest.

"It sounds pretty bad," he says with a snort.

"Fine," you groan, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "You're right. I'm an idiot. I should go home. Is that what you want me to say?

"No," he chuckles, and he takes another step toward you, his expression softening. He places his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking your collarbone, and he ducks his head, his forehead brushing yours. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I appreciate the concern," you reply. "But I can take care of myself."

"I'm not so sure about that," he murmurs. You roll your eyes, giving him a playful shove.

“Anyway,” you say loudly, and he snorts, the smile on his face widening. You glance over your shoulder, trying to get a sense for anyone lurking nearby, and your voice drops, the teasing edge returning. "My stitches came out today, and Wise said I’m okay for some…light activity."

Rex blinks a couple times, his expression blank.

"Light activity," he repeats.

"Mhm,” you hum, and you bite your lip, giving him a coy smile. His eyes dart down to your mouth. “So I decided to come see the boys. And...others."

"Right.”

You lift your hand to your face and examine your nails, feigning nonchalance, and you peek at him, a mischievous gleam in your eye.

"I'm not allowed to drink," you inform him. "Or lift heavy objects. Or run. But…”

“But?” he prompts, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I seem to remember someone promising me that if I was a good girl and did as I was told, he'd show me a good time.”

Rex blinks, and a look of surprise flashes across his face. He clears his throat and looks away as a blush spreads across his cheeks. You bite back a smirk, watching as he fidgets, his eyes finding the ceiling once more.

"That's...um, not exactly how I phrased it," he mutters.

"It's not?" you ask. He shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, still refusing to look at you. "Huh. Must've misheard you, then. I guess I’ll go see if Obi-Wan is free for dinner tonight instead.”

You move to pull away, but he grabs your wrist, holding you in place. You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile.

"No," he protests, and he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. You stumble against him, your breath catching in your throat as he tugs you to him, his other hand finding your cheek, cupping it gently.

"No?" you repeat.

"You're right," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. "I did promise."

"You did," you whisper. Your gaze flicks to his lips, and you lick your own, a shiver running down your spine. You look back up at him, a playful glint in your eye. "And you're a man of your word."

Rex snorts and rolls his eyes.

"You're something else," he mutters, and he lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. "But if I'm being completely honest, I don't really feel like going to 79's."

"Really?" you tease. "Because Kix said—"

"Kix can mind his own business," Rex says quickly.

You smirk, and his expression turns wary, as if he's suddenly realized what he's gotten himself into. He swallows hard, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

"Well," he starts slowly. He pauses and clears his throat, and his voice is low, almost husky, a nervous edge to it. "How about...we start with dinner?"

“Dinner sounds great,” you reply with a smile, and you lean on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering. You lower yourself back down and run your thumb over his jaw, a flutter in your stomach as he stares at you, his eyes wide, a dazed look in them. "You sure you don’t want to go out with the boys?”

"Positive.”

"You might miss the game," you tease. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"You know what?" he muses, his grip tightening on your waist. "I'm actually feeling a bit under the weather. Think I may be coming down with something."

"You do look a little flushed," you note, and he laughs, a low, rich chuckle that reverberates through his chest, sending a shiver down your spine. You bite your lip, a giddy feeling in your chest.

"It's probably best if I stay back tonight," he says, and he presses a quick kiss to your forehead, his lips brushing your skin.

"Probably," you agree.

He smiles, and his gaze moves over your face, taking in the sight of you. He brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes, his touch gentle, and his hand slides to the back of your neck, tangling in the ends of your hair. You lean into him, and his breath hitches, his fingers tightening in the strands.

“Rex," you start as you glance over your shoulder, checking to make sure no one is nearby. There's no sign of movement, no footsteps or voices, and you turn back to him, your hand resting on his chest. “I have two minutes before Ahsoka comes looking for me. So if you're going to kiss me, it better be now."

"Understood."

Rex presses his lips to yours, the kiss soft and chaste. It's not what you were expecting, and you find yourself wanting more, needing it, and a small, frustrated whine escapes your throat.

"Come on," you whisper against his mouth. "You can do better than that."

He pulls away and looks at you, his brow arched.

“Not here," he reminds you. "And certainly not now. As you pointed out, we're on a bit of a time limit."

"I know," you pout, and he chuckles, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. You roll your eyes and shove him away, and his smile widens, his eyes sparkling. “Don't laugh at me."

"I wouldn't dare," he says innocently. You wrinkle your nose at him, and he laughs again, the smile reaching his eyes. He's breathtaking like this, his face soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and a warm, content feeling fills your chest, settling there. "So, tonight? 1800? I can meet you at Dex’s."

"It's a date," you agree, and you smile and press a quick kiss to his cheek, stepping out of his embrace. “I should probably get going before Ahsoka gets suspicious."

"I'll walk you out," he offers, moving toward the door and pausing to grab his armor from the floor. He slips them on quickly, his fingers flying over the fasteners, and within a minute he's dressed, his helmet tucked under his arm.

Before he reaches for the door panel, Rex stops and looks at you over his shoulder. He glances at the hallway beyond, a furrow forming between his brows, and a worried expression flashes across his face. You know what he's thinking. That someone might see the two of you, or suspect something, and put two and two together. You wait patiently, knowing he needs to take a minute to work it out in his head.

Finally, he shakes his head, and the look of worry is gone, replaced with a small, nervous smile.

"General," he greets formally despite the fondness in his eyes, and you roll your eyes, giving him a pointed look. He grins and gestures to the door. "After you."

You smirk as you brush by him, trailing your hand across his back and delighting in the shudder it produces.

"Thank you, Captain." 

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[grimalkinscribbles]

Hello!! I really love your art, especially your lines and the way everything flows while being filled with detail. I esp love the blend of surreal and soft, darkness and fairy tale. Do you have any process videos or posts about how you draw/ how you started?

Thank you for sharing your art! You inspire me immensely. <3

Awe 🥺 thank you. 🫶 Honestly there’s no greater joy as an artist then when people describe your work how you want it to be perceived and take inspiration from it!

Besides the occasional wip post I haven’t delved much into posting about my process, or how I got into art.

As for specific brushes/ textures I use, I’ve actually yapped about this before! You can find the post here. My process is still relatively the same only now instead of lowering the paper texture opacity I’ll set the layer to subtract too. Also I’ve been using the default procreate calligraphy shale brush for bg detailing.

I’ve tried numerous times now to write about how I started and BASICALLY. There isn’t anything nearly remotely resembling a straight and narrow explanation. I’ve been fumbling the entire way and I’m still fumbling. I started out just sketching things I liked from real life and photo references. This was animals, characters from my favorite movies, model poses I thought were pretty. I didn’t really have any favorite artists or inspirations at the time. I guess I wanted to be as good as my dad? He was an ultra realistic dnd kinda artist so THAT’S why I think I started off trying to replicate realism.

I didn’t get into digital art until my mom suggested I buy an art tablet with the inheritance I got from my dad passing. She ALSO picked it out. And the program. I’ve been drawing on an iPad Pro on procreate ever since. Thanks mom. (If you get an iPad Pro you have GOT to get a paper texture screen protector for that thang because you CANNOT draw on the glass)

I had it for a few years but wasn’t very consistent with drawing (or any good, for that matter). I had another art blog once upon a time where I posted arcana fanart and art of my friends ocs. ITS UNFORTUNATE I don’t really have anything to show for that portion of my life because I have a chronic fear that even looking at past works will regress my skills 💀 so they’ve slowly been deleted over time.

Don’t delete your works even if you hate them and think they’re garbage because after a few years of consistently drawing you’ll be amazed at the comparison.

I didn’t really start seeing improvement until I got ‘serious’ about art. That is, intentionally carving out time for it every. Single. Day. This was around when I started drawing touchstarved fanart. For me the only time I really have energy for art is before work so I’m getting up at the ungodly hour of 4:30 for an hour or two of drawing. To me it’s very much worth it.

When it comes to style and inspiration I’ve always loved folklore and fairytales! Here’s a list of a lot of the artists that’ve inspired me to continue drawing

Traditional:

Jaw Cooper, Vanessa Gillings, Taryn Knight, Cecile Berrube, Monge Jean-Baptiste, Iris Compiet, Larry MacDougall, Beatrix Potter, John Bauer, Heikala, Lavera Grace

Mixed media:

Owly Jules, C-kiddo, Marika Paz

Digital:

Wickwheat, Sara Kipin, Marlowe Lune, Jamie Green, May Lee, inimeitiel, Mogo Shin

As for my process/ process videos-

Tumblr keeps eating the timelapse I’m trying to upload for you, so I’ll try on a separate post 🙄 if you don’t see it within the next week, I didn’t succeed. I think process videos are far more helpful than images- but in the meantime, here’s the cleanest piece process I have to date:

Start off with a rough sketch

Refine the details

Lineart

Coloring ✨

I hope this was insightful in some way shape or form!

Thank you very much for popping by c:

[jessiarts]

Couple weeks ago I posted a set of pride designs featuring Odin's Crows, and since then I've seen desire to see that design with more flags, so I figured I'd make a separate post for people to leave their flag requests on just to keep everything together and make it easier for myself to keep track.

(here's a few examples of said design for those who haven't seen it yet)

The first set included Pride, OG Pride, Progress Pride, Trans, Bi, Pan, Gay, Lesbian, Genderfluid, Intersex, and Nonbinary flags- but like always I'm always happy to make more upon request!

So yeah, if you didn't see your flag in the last post, and you want to, then please leave your requests on this post, either in the tags or replies, so I can add them to the next set!

Also, here are my other Pride designs in my "Fuck hateful appropriation of Norse symbols- I'm gonna make them blatantly gay" series (Still working on that name) if anyone wants to see previous year's designs!

And thank you to everyone who's shown interest in this work so far and left kind comments on my other posts! It means a lot to see that people are enjoying this series.

[graphoon]

Graphoon I love ya so I gotta rant, one thing that I hate is going on Reddit or YouTube and seeing like any non-2012 tmnt appreciation post or something rise or 2003 or even 1987 related and 2012 fans say “i LiKe 2012!”, when the post is clearly NOT about 2012. As a 2012 fan. I have yet to see this from a rise or 2003 or the elusive tales fan tbh.

like I kid you not in Reddit (and on some ytube platforms) the favoritism is real. I remember in one Reddit post someone asked every to rank their personal favorite shows, and for those who had 2012 close to the bottom or even after next mutation they were downvoted to oblivion and 2012 die hards were saying “you don’t like 2012?1?1? How DARE you despise my childhood nostalgia 😡”)

(okay they didn’t exactly say that I’m just kinda being petty rn this is tumblr but people were legit gasping in the reply thread at those who had 2012 close to the bottom 💀)

maybe this is gonna be in another rant post. Remember those?

on a light hearted note:

This Samaritan gave all the answers of impossible from 51-100 on a YouTube music post.

Hey Chica :D I love a good rant >:) I hope you are ok with this being posted-didn't know how to respond to it another way 🥲

I agree, though. I've seen this alot on YouTube, and other platforms similarly. (I dont personally use Reddit, but occasionally see them on Pinterest)

Totally! There is a significant favoritism for 2012 in the TMNT fandom/community, I've noticed. Legitimately anything TMNT related (regarding 2012 or not), 2012 is mentioned. Usually with the signature line of "2012 was my childhood," O rjust generally talking about 2012? Mentioning etc. The TMNT socials favor 2012 as well-most of their content is that IF not about the newest iteration. Which is kinda interesting as 2012 wasn't a completely perfect or even really the best iteration from an unbiased standpoint-rather it was extremely flawed with some questionable choices. Not saying it isn't a good show, as I also really like it, but it isn't amazing per se. While the show was not bad by any means, I've noticed that if 2012 is not favored or seen as a favorite by someone, it is a personal attack on 2012 fans and their enjoyment of the show. Like you are personally attacking the validity or specialty of their childhood. (I'm not entirely sure how to phrase this but yknow) Also, this is somewhat separate, but I've noticed sometimes if it's not like the few big fanwide agreed-upon issues with the show, a lot of people get mad at you. Like if it is not talking about Leo liking Karai (even after confirmed sister), or April and Donnie's issues (to name a few), your opinion is seen as somewhat invalid? Or if anything non of the other issues about the show are brought up or really talked about. (maybe because they're the most glaring?) IDK The question is, do you truly really like it, or is it nostalgia talking? (I do apologize as this question seems a bit mean-though it is valid.)

Also- that Samaritan knows what their doing-because aint no way I'm figuring that out.

Obviously, this is not everyone-but it is quite a few someone.

[master-of-the-elements]

Ship Sleep Dynamics

Thanks for tagging me @rooks-dagger. This was cute. I’ll gently tag @thatgaymerguyb, @jukkaricity, @sparklingarsonic, and @megaeratheefury. Anyone else is free to participate as well.

Amir x Davrin

How often do they sleep together?

In the beginning of their relationship, a few times. Mostly towards the end of their campaign. After the events of Veilguard, they basically sleep together nightly. Assan usually sleeps in the next room but will occasionally sleep on the floor or the foot of bed.

Where do they sleep?

At the Lighthouse, they depending on the day they would sleep in Davrin’s room or Amir’s room, though usually in Davrin’s room on his insistence. Post- game, they purchase an apartment in the Soporati district of Minrathous and share a bed.

How do they prepare to sleep?

They both bathe, sometimes together, but usually separately. Davrin probably does a few push ups or exercises before getting into bed and working on his bestiary. While Amir wipes off the makeup and applies scented oils and a body butter or a lotion to his skin before slipping into bed.

What do they wear to sleep?

I think Davrin would usually sleep shirtless and wear pajama pants while Amir would probably wear an all white pajama set but with shorts instead of pants, unless they you know 🙃.

Do they cuddle?

Yes. Despite Amir’s posturing and elegant appearance, he cuddles as does Davrin. Amir usually sleeps on his chest or Davrin is the big spoon, but they switch up every now and then.

How easy do they fall asleep?

They both fall a sleep pretty easily, but if Amir has a lot on his mind it can take him a minute to fall asleep.

Do they toss and turn a lot?

No, but they do eventually move every now and again while sleeping. If Amir has an intense dream, his magic may affect the elements around them. For example, the air may spark with electricity if he’s having fearful or air may become chilled and cover the room in frost if the dream frustrates him.

Do they snore?

Davrin has a soft, low snore that Amir finds somewhat comforting as it lets him know he’s still next to him. Amir doesn’t usually snore unless he is severely exhausted and when he does it’s on the louder side 😬.

Who hogs the blanket?

Amir. He’s still getting use sharing the bed with someone else, since his last relationship was years ago.

What do they dream about?

Davrin has the typical Warden dreams, but these start to wane post-game and they become less unhinged but are occasionally still horrifying.

Amir has a strong connection to the fade and his dreams range from old memories to premonitions. They can be very intense and usually linger even after he’s woken up.

How easily do they wake up?

Davrin is a light sleeper in my head due to being both a warden and monster hunter so he always ready to be up if need be.

Amir sleeps a bit heavier than Davrin, but he also wakes up easily due to his father’s military training he instilled in him.

How awake they are afterwards?

Davrin is pretty awake after waking up. He’s an early riser and has to feed Assan, so once he’s up, he’s up.

Amir is usually a bit groggy when waking up and will cling to the bed a little longer to get as much sleep as possible, but will eventually get up. If it’s an emergency, he’ll get up and be ready similarly to Davrin.

[autisticlancemcclain]

part one

———

Lance has no idea how powerful he truly is.

Seriously. Completely oblivious. He’s convinced that he’s the only one on the team who’s not powerful — and Keith knows this because those are the words Lance said with his own mouth. He’s so convinced that power is Shiro’s strength, Pidge’s intelligence, Hunk’s wit and compassion, Allura’s regality, and Coran’s wisdom. He’s even completely sure that Keith has power in his speed and initiative.

Somehow, though, the heart of Voltron does not know how he holds everyone in the palm of his hand. He does not see the picture of terror he makes; jaw clenched, brown eyes flashing with determination, back straight and shoulders set, demonic spider at his side, telepathic mice gathered on his head, poisonous, sentient vine wrapped around him — and the spirts of two lions, red and blue, growling in tandem behind him as he swears that no harm will come to the beast by Voltron’s hand.

Lance did not see the fear in the dignitary’s face. He did not notice his team staring at him with wide eyes, leaning far away from him and his own army. He did not see the pure, concentrated power rippling from him in waves.

If Keith’s being totally, completely honest, it’s kind of hot.

But it’s also a pain in the ass. As much as Lance’s greatest strength is in convincing people to listen to him, when he sets stubborn eyes on a task, the Universe herself cannot sway him. Keith has a snowball’s chance in hell of managing either.

“Just try,” Shiro pleads. “Please. Attempt to convince him that, as much as it sucks, killing the damn beast is the easiest way to secure this alliance and move on.”

“Shiro, your braincells are spilling out your ears like loose marbles if you think that I can convince him to even listen to the words I will attempt to say.”

“Holy idiom, there, cowboy,” Pidge teases, and Keith breaks away from the intense stare-down with his brother to stick his tongue out and shoot her the finger.

“That’s a normal idiom. Sorry that you grew up in Michigan where the most interesting insult you ever hear is someone saying please with a little more passive aggression than usual.”

“…Alright. Point to Keith.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

“Paladins!” Allura snaps, ignoring Hunk’s smartass comment that she is also, actually, a paladin, and as such is included in such snappish remarks and thus has lost a good chunk of ethos. “Focus! Stars, it’s like I have to do everything around here. Keith. Put your big boy pants on.”

Shiro chokes with laughter, desperately trying to pretend it’s really a cough, but it fools no one.

God, those two need to stop hanging out together. Shiro is dragging Allura down to his level. Poor woman.

“Talk to Lance,” she continues. “He only really listens to you.”

Keith looks at her incredulously. “Listens to me — have I missed something? I asked Lance to lead a briefing yesterday and he asked me what deity died and made me king of the jungle. He doesn’t listen to a goddamn word I say.”

Allura raises an eyebrow. “Did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Lead the briefing yesterday?”

Keith deflates. Because, well. “Yeah,” he mutters.

“So you’re just being a pussy, then,” she summarizes – why does Pidge insist on teaching her modern slang and why does she like it so much – and this time Shiro doesn’t even pretend he’s coughing. Hunk and Pidge also lose their shit.

“I resent that,” Keith says haughtily, denying nothing.

“Yeah. Okay. Off you go. Convince him to at least attempt to hear us out.”

Keith sighs, but does as asked, making his way to his and Lance’s rooms. He decides to take a minute and gather his thoughts — see, he’s learning, look at how not-impulsive he’s being — and heads to his room first.

When he gets there, he spends a few meditating beside his bed — he’d rather stick a hot iron through his eye than admit it, but Shiro and Black may be a little, teensy, itty-bitty bit correct about taking time to gather up thoughts and reflect or whatever.

Just as he’s about to get up and knock on Lance’s door, he hears Coran’s heeled boots click down the hallway.

Oh, fuck yes. If Coran talks to Lance, he might actually listen without argument! Lance has no issue following Coran’s instructions!

…On the other hand, Coran’s just as much of a — and Keith says this with all the fondness in his heart, believe him, if he didn’t find it so damn endearing he would not be spending his nights imagining what will happen when he finally grows enough of a pair to ask Lance on a date — tree-hugger as Lance is. He won’t be happy about the beast killing either.

But, hey. Coran’s a wise guy. It’s probably fine.

Just in case, though, he gets up as quietly as he can — he knows Lance’s goddamn bat ears will hear him if his fucking heart beats too loudly — and leans against the door to hear their conversation.

“Lance, dear, I was just coming to find you,” Coran says.

So far, so good. If Coran was already trying to find Lance, it was probably to try and gently convince him that saving the beast might not be the best option, right?

Keith heart sinks a little as a new thought worms into his brain: maybe, Lance isn’t just being stubborn, and he’s actually upset. Maybe Coran is going to make sure Lance is feeling okay, like a good person.

…Yeah. That’s more likely. Keith kind of feels like a jackass.

He startles out of his thoughts as Coran’s voice, notably louder than before, speaks again.

“Well, if you’re really feeling so much better, would you mind helping me recalibrate the fabricator?”

“Absolutely,” Lance says, and he does sound remarkably happier than he did when he stomped out of the bridge.

Huh. Maybe Lance convinced himself…?

As he thinks it, he knows it’s not true. But it might not be best to bring it up now, then. He’s only just gotten into a good mood, it will probably be better to bring it up over dinner, or something, when the good mood has enough time to settle properly.

Keith nods to himself. Yeah. That’s totally not an excuse because he doesn’t want Lance to look at him in complete betrayal again when Keith attempts to convince him that saving the beast is not an option, or anything.

Right.

Totally.

———

part three

[chirpsythismorning]

Nick himself said that his knowledge is confined to the leaks prior to s4, the s4 scripts from his verified source (likely within a source) and basic knowledge most fans paying attention have been able to formulate about s5 based on what has been released officially/unofficially, trends from Netflix and common sense.

He is saying based on all that, he doesn’t think byler is happening. 

And if we think back to what the Duffers themselves shared in the 4x09 script, it literally implies Mike’s monologue worked, and that it was entirely genuine. This tells me that the script the Duffers released for Emmy consideration, is not that far off from what Nick saw for himself. 

I think it’s likely Nick got something that the average below the line worker might manage to get their hands on if they tried hard enough. A copy they know they have to water-down to prevent these very situations from happening.

Unfortunately for the Duffers, it just so happens that they didn’t scrub their watered down copy hard enough.

Unfortunately for Nick, he admitted that it’s possible and even likely that the production will release things that aren’t exactly accurate with the sole purpose to lead fans sleuthing astray, without realizing it may have ironically already happened to him. 

[moonchild-in-blue]

I just want everyone to know that in the span of 3 days, I have made 3 loads of laundry, and have a 4th already sorted and ready to go (which includes towels / blankets / bedding). I still need to fold them and put them away BUT the important part is done 🥹

[not-kamenx]

thoughts on Chrome in Beyblade X Ep. 38

Okay before anything and before I end up ranting I GIGGLE EVERYTIME I SEE CHROME AND SIGRID ON SCREEN TOGETHER NOW. The time they spend together is usually her looking like she’s silently judging Chrome and not understanding why he’s so…. obsessed? with Jaxon. The fact she was like “oh you’re watching someone else’s match? That’s unusual for you” AND THEN SAYS “is Blader X… on your mind?” HER TONE. HER TONE. I AM GOING TO SCREAM.

okay back to actually analyzing

The fact we don’t see ANY part of Chrome’s face except his smile is, well, concerning to say the least. It’s like he’s slowly losing himself and his identity in the process. I noticed how in Proof of the Fastest and in this episode he mentioned “X” but he wasn’t talking about Blader X. Like he’s talking about a concept itself, because he says “it” and not “him.” Or maybe I’m reading too much into this? But it’s like he’s trying to become whatever this “X” is. This honestly makes the message at the beginning of the episodes creepier where it speaks “X, whatever it is, is in your hands.” Well, Chrome has this “X” in his HEART. He was clutching at his chest talking about how “the only true X is deep within me” and we see a little ball of light amidst this ocean like interior. Whatever “X” really is, Chrome is. Well. He’s going a little insane about it.

I mean, look how he’s leaning towards the glass. He’s not casually viewing the match like it’s a basketball match you’d casually view and cheer for a team or see how it’s going. He’s actively invested, he’s emotionally invested. One hand is clutching at his chest again, the other is holding onto the glass, almost like he just wants to get out there and actually be in the vicinity of the stadium, close to it to view.

Hey that’s actually CRAZY Chrome is slowly losing it through the episodes

Back onto the concept of X though, I do think that it does tie in with Jaxon though. X can mean a lot of things, but after Jaxon left, Chrome was starting to, well, not take it well it seems from what we’ve seen so far. So it does make sense “X” would relate to Jaxon in a way. Still, it’s like Chrome’s going for a part of this “X” that Jaxon has.

Remember how I said how Chrome clutches at his chest when he talks about “X”? In the 34th ep where we meet Sigrid, Chrome talks about how Jaxon was “definitely there” and how Chrome “felt him, right here” as his hand tightens. The same place where “X” is.

what am I going on about again help me

I also wonder why Sigrid is pretty much, well, indifferent to this behavior? Has she always known this side of Chrome and wasn’t bothered by it? Or does she just not care in the first place? They are teammates, but why hasn’t she up and went like Jaxon? What is her goal? Did she just want to stop at the top of the X just like Chrome and defend their championship? Has Chrome asked her to stay by his side? Or is Sigrid trying to help him out? Is she genuinely concerned for him? I have SO many questions and not enough answers.

also….

WHAT IN THE DAGGER DRAN WAS THIS.

We see Blader Y returning! Or at least I’m pretty sure that’s them.

I’m PRETTY sure that’s the same fit. Also. That hand. If Blader Y is Chrome. I. Will not. Be able to react properly. CHROME RYUGU IF THAT IS YOU I’M GOING TO SHIT MY PANTS.

I mean sure skin color isn’t something we should automatically go by as evidence, but who else in this show has that exact skin??? And also the elephant in the room— not the one Robin rode on after Zip and Zoom— WHO ELSE’S HAND WOULD CRACK IN A MANNER THAT MADE ME PHYSICALLY CRINGE SEEING THE MATCH BETWEEN QUINN AND JAXON?

that aside for a moment I like the backpack Blader Y has. This show should really sell merch other than Beyblades, I would buy Team Persona plushies in a heartbeat and the Blader’s masks. Though I know it couldn’t just happen like that unfortunately. Maybe an acrylic stand at least, one day… I can only dream.

can we tell I’m normal about Chrome

also, please no spoilers. I beg of you. None. I just wanted to speculate, thank you.

[tvntheatre]

⚔️@ballcrusher74 ♦ Fencer & Faux

🧸@shynighter Sinny

🍓@il0vecatsuwu Michael

Hey guys I drew your sillies.

Expect me to do something like this again, or repost, because I'm not done with you Fauxerz.

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

Soda had already cleaned up everything, and it was supposedly still about 30 minutes early to their actual closing time, meaning he'd given himself about an hour and a half of free time.

He picks up the last of his things as Steve and another coworker makes their way inside, Steve's covered head to toe in dirt and grime and god knows what else. The coworker takes over what left Soda has to do, meaning now they get the option to leave early.

Soda thanks the coworker on the way out, and he bumps shoulders with Steve playfully as he walks over to clock out. “Well?”

“"Well," what?” Steve cocks an eyebrow up, smiling at Soda and pushing him back softly.

“...I dunno, I would've thought you'd had something to say.” Soda shrugged, snickering and putting the pen down as he finished up writing.

Steve rolled his eyes, and they both made their way out the door, saying goodbye and thank you to the other coworker once again.

“Yeah, well, I got nothing.” Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets, and looked to the side, staring deep at the spot in the parking lot that was now occupied with police tape and other supplies left behind by the pigs for the death scene the rats left earlier today. “...Nothing big, at least.”

“Nothing big?”

“Nope.”

Soda hummed, smiling softly and opening up the door to the truck—he was driving tonight.

The two stuffed themselves comfortably into the truck, rustling around as Steve looked for a rag or a piece of cloth to clean himself off with and Soda looking around for the keys and a cigarette. They both found what they were looking for, thankfully.

Soda sighed happily as he lit the cigarette with a match and puffed out toxic air. “Those rats, man.”

“Yeah... What's that about?” Steve scrubbed his face with one of his shirts, wiping off the oil and sweat that'd caked on after hours of endless work.

Soda shrugged and Steve hummed thoughtfully in response. Soda passed the cigarette over to Steve, holding it to his mouth for him and then taking it back so Steve could work on cleaning himself off again.

“They're weird as shit! I'm tellin' ya, Steve. I seriously think those rats are some sick kids science experiment or some shit, 'cause what those rats do ain't fuckin' normal!”

“Damn, Soda. Language.” Steve teased, pulling his work jacket off and pulling on a new one, which was laid properly in the floor of the truck.

Soda laughs and pushes Steve lightly, taking another puff before holding the cigarette out to Steve. (He declines.)

“I dunno. On the plus side, at least the whole day wasn't horrible.” Soda smiled, holding out the papers he kept of Cola Girl's writings.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother.” He teased. “Yeah, well, not terrible for you. At least you got a date tonight.” Steve huffed, crossing his arms.

“Mm. You and Evie doin' okay?” Soda turned to Steve, his brows knitting together as he watched Steve's expression change at the topic.

“We're doing fine, it's just... I dunno. Girls are difficult, Soda. I don't know what's up with her.” He shrugged, shaking his head dismissively.

“...Are we gonna leave yet or what?”

Soda looked around in surprise, puffing out a quick "Yeah" and checking around to make sure he had everything, stubbing out his cigarette and putting what was left in the cup holder before starting up the truck; all the while Steve laid back and finished changing in the passenger seat into more comfortable clothes — as in, the ones he wore yesterday and left in the truck last night.

And with that, they left.

[nenoname]

wait did people actually interpret the stan o war ending as them not going back to gravity falls for a few months every year and instead as them only ever staying on the boat?? i thought that them staying for summers or just regular breaks + them constantly having video chats with family and friends was something everyone just assumed lol

(people tend to forget their motto of 'growing old doesn't mean growing up' too huh)

[indilaras]

Ok, (non Indonesian) people, help me out here.

Are $15 USD for chibis and 20$ USD for portraits/headshots reasonable or underpriced? These would all be in color and the chibis would have much simpler shading.

[murmurmurl]

a modern human au where nothing bad ever happenned to them and they got to grow up together. I am making myself cry with this chat

[molagboop]

Reference sheet commission: client asked for Raven Beak.

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

Do you idiot seriously think that Tim left Eddie out of 8x14 and 8x15 to make room for Tommy? Not even the most devoted Tommy stan is delusional enough to think that so what are you screeching about? Take your frustrations over the fact that Eddie isn´t used for anything other than baiting you lot up with Tim instead of hating on the 5 seconds Tommy was on screen. You are the problem! Buddie is all that matters to you and everybody knows that including Tim. Why the fuck would he bother with decent storylines for Eddie when all the has to do is put in a facetime call here and there for you all to cheer like idiots? Your temper tantrums will die down like they always do. By 8x16 Eddie will be back, you will be watching like the sheep that you are and then loose your minds over some innocuous interaction between Buck and Eddie means that you "aRe sO baCK baBy". Sit down.

It’s not just Eddie being gone.

It’s the absence of other characters who are more important to Bobby. It’s the fact that Tommy was not a necessary part of this episode nor was the helicopter chase.

See my previous post which goes into how it could have been May and Buck pulling a distraction and why that would be more impactful.

This doesn’t even have to do with my general dislike of Tommy.

This was just a poor move on Tim’s end. And whoever else screen lit and wrote that.

I’m not sure why it’s not clicking, but this is the first main character death this show has ever had. That is a huge deal.

This has nothing to do with Buddie or bucktommy, which I’ve made very clear. And it’s alarming that you can’t see that.

Because you know what the GA is seeing? They’re seeing that characters, someone Bobby mentored, two that Bobby called his kids, don’t matter

Not enough to be in the episode where he dies. Despite the fact that two of three have worked in that line of work. Despite that all three have been involved in dangerous situations before.

The GA just lost one of the main reasons they started this show and kept watching. The GA just saw his death be handed rather poorly contrary to what some of you think. The GA just lost a huge reason for them to keep watching.

Characters of more importance were left out, Tommy wasn’t.

That’s it.

That’s the truth.

And that is something to have concern over.

Or maybe it’s not, because as I’ve said, if Tim and others don’t get their shit together, there’s a chance this show won’t be going much longer. And that is currently my main concern.