#4th encounter

[necroticvessel]

First time Verity experience

[that-howling-sky-kid]

The fact that people are actively trying to avoid doing the 4th quest is the funniest thing ever.

[kayzean]

Trying the raid again this weekend...

[tilbageidanmark]

Alternative JAWS poster by Laurent Durieux

[serpentface]

Based on my and now a few other users (that I've seen) experiences, it SEEMS like tumblr has some sort of automated filter active currently that hides image posts from the dashboard/tags immediately upon posting if an algorithm detects (real or imagined) sexual content. I first noticed this alongside the latest wave of spambots and I'm guessing it's their method of dealing with that? (I have no way of knowing if it's been going on longer though)

There is no indication that your work has been hidden and it's not the same mechanism as flagged content. It sounds like in some cases the post will eventually show up (which suggests there might be human verification as part of the process??maybe???), but in some cases it never does.

It's definitely some sort of automated function and not a glitch, as it only happens to specific images (not at random) and covering the image with a giant censor bar, covering up any obvious 'inappropriate' bits, or putting a color filter over it (especially if it eliminates flesh tones) will allow the same image to be posted.

So far for me it has filtered frontal nudity (within tumblr guidelines), sexual looking positions (within tumblr guidelines), and some entirely innocuous shit that I can't figure out for the life of me what it's detecting. I've had no issues posting nudity that isn't flesh-toned.

There's no mention of this feature that I've can find so this is all based on guessing and experimentation (in the form of desperately trying to find a workaround lol) so don't take my word on how exactly this function works. But this is definitely A Thing That Is Happening.

[isaut]

𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓— f!reader x captain rex. 1.2k. ao3

sunsets on naboo are pretty, aren't they? it's a shame you have to share it so close yet so far apart. previous. masterlist.

The sunset is nice here. Orange hues that sprawl over the waterfront. The water sparkles, lapping delicately at pebbles, of both stone and seaglass, on the shore. There are birds chirping in the trees, excited for their mothers to return home. The woodland is thick with brush. 

Rex kicks a pebble away with his foot. It clatters as it rolls towards the shore. Looking over his shoulder, Rex is met with a disgustingly sweet vision. General Skywalker– Anakin– has his hands on Senator Amidala’s– Padme’s– waist. Together, they skip rocks over the water, Anakin’s hand guiding hers. The stones skip farther than they should. 

Rex turns back around. He kicks another pebble. 

Some highly dangerous mission he was on. He supposes it is highly classified.

Music from across the bay filters over, faintly. It’s got the same, warm, human tinge the music from the bar had. The same tinge the music off your stereo has. Naboo is gorgeous– from the flora and fauna to the human essence that flows through every aspect of the planet. To the gentle sounds of keys in locks, to the soft translucent of window drapes, to the bitterness of coffee, to the sweetness of lipgloss, to–

Rex doesn’t let himself go there. Not now, at least. Instead, he holds his helmet at his stomach, rubbing his gloved hand over the vision. With the reflection of the sun, he can see himself looking back at him. 

It's the same face he sees everyday. Every moment. 

Rustling coming from the trees catches Rex’s attention. He puts his helmet on, to get a better view. Immediately, the digital mechanics zero in on the approaching figure, heat signatures picking up. 

Rex heads towards the signature. It’s humanoid, not walking on four legs like the various, herbivore fauna that wander these parts. 

Placing his hand on the side of his helmet, he changes the vision mode. Through the green-hued screen, the heat signature rounds the incline. 

If he could, Rex would rub his own eyes with disbelief. You appear to be in work clothes– trousers and a nice tank top with a blazer hooked over your purse. You have two brown paper bags in your hand, one of which has a wine bottle sticking out of it. 

It’s been a bad day. Upon arriving at work today, you had discovered that a whole collection of paintings had been heisted away under the guise of night. The security footage had been wiped, and the security guards had been knocked out. It’s been such a bad day, that you want the company of solitude instead of your friends. Your coworkers were going out for a drink, but you wanted to come to the riverside. Wanted a little bit of nature to comfort you. 

Rounding the corner, you can’t help the exasperated sigh that leaves your lips. Standing in the way between you and your comfort for the evening is a clone trooper. Your throat contracts uncomfortably, stress from the day building up tears. 

Perhaps your view on clone troopers has changed, a little more sympathy since your recent romps. Conversations. They’re more martyrs than human, more sympathetic figurines marched to their death, not by their own choice but by their design. 

But sympathy is nowhere to be found at the moment. The trooper before you is littered in tally marks that you can only begin to fathom what they stand for. Battles won, battles lost, who knows. Frustration bubbles in your throat. The sun is setting– you’ve been working for over twelve hours, and all you want to see is the sun set, eat your to-go pasta and drink the wine straight from the bottle. 

You stop in your tracks. What is a trooper doing here, your neck of the woods? There hasn’t been any reason for there to be military engagement here, not since the Separatists were here years ago. 

When you don’t move, Rex slowly approaches you. He remembers distinctly how you’d described yourself as a pacifist the first time you had met. When you had rested your knees against his thighs and your hair had spilled down your back, leaving your neck and collarbones exposed. 

He watches, with a little bit of horror, as your eyes flit down to the blasters at his side and then your grip on your brown paper bag tightens. He doesn’t even need them, not for this mission. 

The mission. Rex shifts a bit to block your view of the water. He can’t find his voice for a moment. 

It’s weird. You don’t recognize him. Rex doesn’t want to admit to who he is. 

“Hey, uh, you have to turn around,” Rex says. 

Guilt claws at Rex’s throat while he watches your face scrunch up momentarily in dissatisfaction. You adjust your hand placement on the strap of your work back, shifting the leather up further on your shoulder. It’s left behind a little red mark on the open space. 

“Why?” You ask. 

“We’re, uh, there’s classified stuff happening.” It’s not a lie, but it's who he’s telling the lie to that makes Rex freeze up. 

“Here? Of all places?” 

“Uh, I mean, yeah. It’s just, it’s–”

You cut him off with an aggravated huff. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” you mumble under your breath. By the time you got home the sun would have missed its peak stunning expression. You don’t know if you’re cursing your state of mind or if you’re cursing the situation. Perhaps both. 

You raise your hand, the one with the paper bag in it, and press up against your waterline. Flakes of mascara come with your finger when you pull it away. 

“I’m sorry,” Rex says. Are you crying? “It’s a last minute thing.” 

You sniffle. Fuck. How embarrassing. “It’s fine.” It’s not.

There are only more apologies on his tongue. He doesn’t think you want to hear them. 

With one last gaze out towards the sliver of sky you can see through the treeline, you resign yourself to the final nail of your horrible day. With a thick swallow, you nod a few times. 

“Okay, I’m heading out,” you say with a sigh. “Next time, you should post a sign.” 

“It was really last minute, but we’ll, uh, we’ll be sure to do that next time.” He hesitates. Is it bad that he wants to keep you company, even through his disguise? “Uh, let me walk you out.” 

Rolling your shoulders back, you shake your head. “I’m capable on my own.” 

“Are you sure? The sun is setting, it’s getting dark–”

“I’m fine,” you say, a little sharper than you mean to. Rex pretends like it doesn’t hurt. 

“I’m sorry,” Rex says again. 

“Don’t apologize so much. It makes me think you actually feel bad.” 

He does. He feels awful. Of course you would love it here, of course you would want to be by the river, of course, of course, of course. 

You turn and leave, shoulders sagging a bit in defeat. You should have gone out with your coworkers. But you don’t want to talk about work, you just want to stew on it. Just want to sit in silence, feel the wind on your face. 

Rex watches as you go. His throat feels weird, all thick and heavy. He changes his vision, to watch your heat signature slip away into the distance. Back to the warmth and comfort of your home. 

He looks back towards the two heat signatures he’s standing on lookout for. They’re so conjoined, the warm, burnt reds colliding with each other, fading out to a blue that almost appears like an aura. 

Rex swallows. He’s not sure what he’s swallowing. 

He kicks another pebble. 

[aboutoriginality]

[chthonicmoons]

i want to buy transistor on my laptorp but i have no moneyyyyy

[cursezoroark]

if anyone asks them, it was a spur of the moment thing.

better resolution of first pic below:

[anarkhebringer]

I woke up to this and am really thinking about this

[poisonouspastels]

@beegswaz genuinely i think my favorite tags on any of my work ever. i fucking love when people talk abt my characters like this

[brittleskyblue]

(This one is for the Mechs fans!)

The Witness: Killing us will not save you

Nelan, walking up to it with a sword as she and Ivo speak in one voice: I don't care

*cue epic music*

[zyana-wyvern]

When you expect to have a lighthearted, fun romance with a game’s resident himbo, but he turns out to be a haunted, broken, complicated Byronic hero.

Picture this.

You happily hop into a new game thinking you’re finally gonna have some good fun, no hyper fixations, nor existential crisis. Be a normal human being for once!

Then you decide to romance what you’ve heard is just a semi evil himbo, even though you promised yourself years ago when everyone was raving about him, that you will NOT take the bait.

You took the bait hard though and the further you go into the story, the worse it gets.

And yet again you say to yourself “ffs it’s just a game”. But it never really is just a game, is it?😮‍💨💀

[delightfuldevin]

It is NOT fair how easy shooters are. I was struggling SO hard to get through with dualies but I made it first try when I switched to the shooter…

[antirepurp]

how silly would it be if i took all my excess fossil pokemon and tried to shiny hunt a fossil for myself. how stupid would that be. absolute madness. and yet it tempts me

[witherblossoms]

𖥧 I'M ABOUT TO MAKE MY EXISTENCE EVERYONE'S PROBLE- 𖥧 thunk, gets picked up and YEETED into a bright puddle I am so very sorry for that intrusion everycreature, PM didn't get the memo NOT exit the Scratch dimension and NOT to come here. This never happened, alright?