#I’ve never posted fanart or anything before

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[mustardd]

Oh Percy the man that you are I say wistfully while staring out into the sunset

I hope I did them justice @blank-house !!!

Dumb extras under cut 😜

I had to run away multiple times from the screen while drawing Percy FRRRR

ft my shitty little watermarks I forgot to add LMAO

[thou-babbling-brook]

Smth smth endless cycle of war for a purpose that exceeds your understanding smth smth

[mumblesplash]

man i’ve had pretty serious art block before in the past but it was always more a lack of inspiration/irl stuff draining all my energy, currently Not having art block but getting hit by my first bout EVER of feeling like i just straight up can’t make anything that’s good enough and oh my god how do people deal with this

[roaringroa]

oh shit just noticed the only boy i’ve ever been into and who made me question for a long time about being lesbian or bi is liking a suspicious amount of wlw posts on twitter…

👀👀👀👀

…egg?

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

anyone interested in some shitty steampunk rosekiller fanart?

is this anything? i’ve never posted my art before :/

[vizslasaber]

FRIENDLY FIRE ──── i.

summary: after landing on the umbaran surface, you butt heads with your fellow general—but get along swimmingly with your temporary clone captain.

pairing: captain rex x female jedi!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: combat/action, mentions of injury + death, krell being a bitch, reader with a name instead of y/n because i hate it

a/n: it’s back!!! previously i posted this series on my main, @brrmian, but i changed that blog’s username and have mostly shifted over to fanart and general SW content. i’ve decided to dedicate this new side blog’s content entirely to fic writing under my old username, posting reader insert on here and everything else on ao3! this fic will be updated sparsely but definitely more often than it was on my main. i’ve changed a few things regarding the plot of this series specifically, and i like it a lot more now!!

series masterlist | click here to add or remove yourself from the taglist!

You hadn’t wanted to leave the Temple behind—you still don’t, even lightyears away from the Core.

When the Jedi Council had first made you aware of the plan to have you and a Master you’d never met capture an Umbaran airbase with troops that were not your own, you had put up something of a fight. What right, you demanded, did the Chancellor have the right to simply pull a Jedi from their sacred duty for a trivial air-to-ground assault?

The Council had either not wanted to answer this question or had not known how to, so now you stand on a transport gunship with two clone troopers and an intimidatingly tall Besalisk Jedi Master by the name of Pong Krell. Both of you are holding onto the grab handles hanging from the ceiling; you’re gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are slightly pale, but Krell looks perfectly steady.

Of course he is, you think bitterly. He has four arms.

The atmosphere of Umbara is breathable but strangely thick—fog seeps through the blast door openings, and the lights inside the gunship’s passenger bay seem to have dimmed. Your lightsabers bump against your hips and you wince slightly as sounds of frantic gunfire reach your ears.

This will be your first campaign.

You have seen death before, on missions as a Padawan before the war—but never on this scale, if the reports of your already-knighted friends from the Temple are anything to go by. You only hope that you will be assigned your own battalion soon, so you don’t have to go running around replacing wayward Generals.

It’s hard, standing at the side of an imposing Master, not to feel like a Padawan. The skin behind your right ear burns with the memory of the braid that had been there just last week, waiting to be sheared off as you prepared for your ascension to Knighthood.

While your battalion assignment is pending, Master Windu told you as you stood in the center of the Council Chamber, the Senate has requested that we send two Jedi Knights to replace Skywalker on Umbara.

Master Krell is already on-world, assisting Master Kenobi, but he will need another Jedi’s help if he and the 501st are to take the capital in Skywalker’s stead, Master Plo explained, his hologram flickering as he called in from some faraway world.

All due respect, Masters, you remember asking as you willed yourself not to tremble, but why me? I’ve never been anywhere near the front. I wouldn’t be much help.

Believe in your potential, we do, Master Yoda said. An opportunity for you to do good, the Force has given you.

And that, it was decided, was that.

Even now, after meditating on your anxiety for practically the entire journey through hyperspace, your nerves feel impossibly frayed. The transport jostles, but you only sway slightly, arm already holding onto an overhead handle for balance. There’s a shiny new military-issue commlink attached to your right vambrace. A morbid thought, of calling in a medevac for injured soldiers with this very communicator, crosses your mind—but you let it dissipate.

The gunship suddenly makes a sharp dive, and your stomach swoops—you must be about to land. You spare a glance at General Krell, who has now let go of the grab handles and has crossed all four of his arms over his chest. For a moment, you’re almost tempted to ask how he manages to stay so balanced while the ship is moving, but then the blast doors slide open and the gunship lands in shadowy darkness.

The first person you see is Anakin Skywalker. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger—despite having been knighted several years earlier, as one of the first Padawan victims of the Jedi Military Integration Act. Your Master, ever traditional even when the Order began to stray from its centuries-old teachings, did her best to keep you apprenticed for as long as possible, but even that eventually proved futile.

In the end, you and Anakin are practically of the same age, and yet he has infinite more experience than you. Uncertainty wheedles its way into your chest and slips a pin into your lungs; you’re holding your breath as you follow Krell off the gunship.

Being far shorter than the Besalisk, you have to jump down. When you hit the ground, you shiver at the misty atmosphere, watching as bioluminescent specks of dust fly up underneath your boots.

As the two of you approach, you hear the troopers of the 501st legion mutter amongst themselves, but you push it aside and focus on the pleasantries.

“General Krell. General Neridian,” Anakin says, smiling graciously. “My thanks for the air support.”

“Indeed, General Skywalker,” Krell replies, bowing politely. “The locals have proven to be more resourceful than we anticipated.”

“We managed to get here in one piece, though,” you add jokingly, and Anakin smirks, his eyes twinkling. You gesture to the troopers unloading the gunship behind you. “And we brought ration resupplies.”

Anakin nods appreciatively, then raises one eyebrow after a moment, looking slightly confused. “But—that’s not the reason for your visit.”

“No,” Krell admits. “The Council has ordered you back to Coruscant, effective immediately.”

“What?” Skywalker demands. “Wh-why?”

“The Chancellor...” you pause, searching for a word, before you settle on, “insisted that you return. The Council had no say on the matter.”

“That is all they would tell us,” Krell adds, though he doesn’t sound displeased.

“Well, I—I can’t just leave my men!” Anakin protests, and for the first time you notice the trooper standing at attention beside him.

He’s identical to all the clones you’ve met, of course, except for one detail—his hair is blond. You wonder vaguely if it would be polite to ask him whether or not it’s natural as you survey his armor. The pauldron on his left shoulder indicates a position of command, but he carries a sense of individuality in the Force that, despite your inexperience with working with them, you’ve come to realize every clone has. His helmet is painted with a distinctly Mandalorian sigil, but it’s not one you recognize.

His gaze is pointed directly ahead; he makes no eye contact with you. Probably just as annoyed at the change of plans as Anakin is, you realize.

Krell moves to speak, jolting you from your thoughts. You recognize Anakin’s agitation, however, so you calmly move to intercept.

“The Council would not just leave your troopers to fend for themselves—not that they aren’t perfectly capable of doing so, of course,” you add, which merits the barest hint of a smile from the trooper standing beside Anakin. “It’s just… well, the Senate needs a Jedi to be at the head of every campaign, and I guess they figured subtracting one of you would mean—”

“—adding two other Jedi,” Anakin says with a snort of derision. “Yeah… sounds like the Senate. But you guys’ll probably get it done faster anyway.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, sir,” interjects the trooper, and Anakin looks to him. “We’ll have this city under control by the time you’re back.”

“Generals, this is Captain Rex, my first in command,” Anakin says fondly, and you see something like pride show itself in Rex’s eyes. “You won’t find a finer or more loyal trooper anywhere.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you affirm earnestly.

“Yes, that is good to hear,” Krell agrees, then places a large hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I wish you well, Skywalker.”

Anakin simply nods at him, then stops beside you and says, “I hear you passed the Trials.”

You gesture to your hair, now void of a Padawan braid. “Apparently so,” you reply. “Funny, I didn’t think you were one to get swept into the rumour mill.”

A grin, boyish and bright, springs to Anakin’s face. “Nah, I’m always one for good gossip.” His expression turns softer, then, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, though… congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you say, but he’s already approaching the gunship and taking hold of one of the grab handles. The ship is off within seconds, and you can’t help but feel apprehensive as it flies away, up into the fog.

Taking a moment to gather yourself, you turn to Rex and offer a polite nod. He returns it, then says, “It is an honour to be serving with you, Generals.”

“The honour is all mine,” you return graciously, and Rex looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops when Krell begins to speak.

“I find it very interesting, Captain, that you are able to recognize the value of honour,” he begins, then—almost as an afterthought—adds, “for a clone.”

Silence.

Your eyebrows shoot up, and as Rex stares at Krell in shock, you feel your armored chest tighten—with frustration or shock, you don’t yet know.

“Stand at attention when I address you,” Krell snaps, turning to face the other troopers, and as Rex obliges, you narrow your eyes and step forward.

“Master Krell,” you start, your jaw tightening, “I do believe it would be far more... prudent to show respect to the soldiers who have so graciously agreed to undertake this mission with us.” You tilt your head questioningly, sending your ponytail swaying. “After all—we are the ones who just arrived.”

A ripple of white-hot anger moves through the Force with lightning speed, but it’s gone before you can take time to process it. Now, all you can feel is something akin to gratitude, trickling like a cool waterfall from where Rex stands, back straight and eyes ahead.

“They agreed to nothing,” Krell counters, and you blink as his wide upper lip curls back to reveal a row of dangerously sharp teeth. “Do not forget, young one, that we are the Generals they serve under at present.”

“I...” you pause, momentarily at a loss for words, then clasp your hands behind your back and force your jaw to unclench. “I haven’t forgotten that. But I also haven’t forgotten that the only way to succeed in this endeavour is to work together.”

“And with what experience do you so kindly bestow this advice upon us, Knight Neridian?” Krell asks, and the question is like a bucket of ice water down the back of your robes.

You swallow, and search for the words to say, but none come. Cheeks burning with shame, you stare determinedly at the ground.

The tension in Krell’s Force signature disappears, as sudden as the crack of a whip, and he draws in a deep breath. You look up as the pouch-like piece of flesh under Krell’s chin grows in size and he begins to pace.

“Nevertheless,” Krell brushes off, acting as though none of your words register with him, “there’s a reason my command is so effective, and it’s because I do things by the book.” He walks past a soldier in an ARC Trooper uniform who has the number five tattooed on his right temple. The trooper doesn’t move as Krell passes him, but you can see a vein on his forehead bulge.

“And that includes protocol,” Krell puts in. He turns to you. “Have all platoons ready to move out immediately.”

You bristle. “I—I thought we were to make decisions together,” you protest, raising your chin defiantly.

Technically, there’s nothing to defy, seeing as you hold equal rank with Krell—but the Council specified in their briefing that this was supposed to be a learning experience, an introduction to combat before receiving your own battalion. And something about Master Krell demands respect, or at the very least obedience, despite the fact that you’re starting to want to do everything you can not to give it to him.

Krell simply huffs and turns around, his yellow eyes flashing, and walks away, leaving you surrounded by a platoon troopers.

You frown after him. “Well, now I know why Master Venn wished me good luck,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Some of the troopers snicker, but you hardly notice.

Your former master, Esya Venn, had pulled you aside just before leaving. The look on her face had been nothing short of concerned, but you’d shrugged it off in the moment, even when she’d told you to be careful, Padawan. She never told anyone to be careful—it was simply a reflex to think twice about your actions around Esya.

But now you understand.

Scrubbing a hand over your tired face, you take a deep breath and turn to Captain Rex. “Shall we set off?” you ask, and he nods, promptly putting on his helmet.

“Move out, soldiers!” he shouts, starting down the path after Krell. “Come on, let’s go!”

You give Rex a grateful smile, and though you can’t see his face, you know he’s returning it. With one last glance at the battalion, you hurry to the front and fall into step next to General Krell.

It’s silent for some time. Krell doesn’t deter, no matter how dark it gets, and after a while you begin to grow uncomfortable next to him. The anger you’d felt in the Force earlier is dormant, but certainly there, and it makes chills erupt down your spine.

"I’m going to check on the Captain,” you say, and Krell only nods when you turn around and quickly find Rex, who’s walking about two meters behind where you previously were.

The Captain salutes briefly. “General.”

“Captain,” you reply politely, before glancing back at Krell. “I can’t help but notice that there’s—” you pause for a moment. Do these troopers know enough about the Force to have conversations with you about it?

Knowing Anakin, you realize, they probably do, so you clear your throat and continue. “I get a strange feeling from Master Krell,” you say quietly.

Rex’s shoulders relax just slightly. “How so, sir?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I don’t know, exactly,” you reply, then gesture vaguely in front of you, where Krell is half-visible in the murky fog. “The Force around him is unclear. It’s... hard to explain.”

“Hard to explain, as in it’s a Jedi thing?” Rex guesses, and you grin widely.

“Yes,” you say. “It’s a Jedi thing.” Reaching up, you curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I may not be a Jedi, sir,” Rex says after a moment, “but I think I know what you mean by strange feeling.”

“Quicken that pace, battalion!” Krell suddenly shouts over his shoulder, and you jump. “This isn’t some training course on Kamino.”

You sigh and raise your voice, turning to the troopers. “What General Krell means,” you call, pointedly shooting a glare at the Besalik’s back, “is that we must continue to make good time. Keep up the good work.”

Krell gives no answer, but you feel a ripple of frustration coming from his direction. There’s another thread in the Force, one of gratitude, but you can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. You latch onto it nonetheless and file the feeling away for later, letting yourself make an easy pace just ahead of Rex.

“He certainly has a way with words,” you hear one of the clones say, and when you glance behind you out of the corner of your eye, you can see that the source is someone with similar armor to Rex’s. Another ARC, or someone of similar rank.

There’s a sigh. You think it’s from Rex. The troopers obviously don’t know you’re listening, so you direct your gaze ahead, keeping your pace steady.

“He’s just trying to keep us on schedule,” Rex explains, voice hushed and sounding a bit sheepish.

"By raising everyone’s ire?” the other trooper grumbles.

“Either way, he’s in charge,” Rex protests. “And we’ve got a job to do.”

“She’s in charge, too,” hisses the trooper, and you purse your lips, knowing he’s pointing to you.

Another sigh, again from Rex. “Just—treat them both with respect, and we’ll all get along fine.”

You’re about to turn around when your neck stiffens. It’s an instinctual reaction, like the Force tapping you on the shoulder—one that you’ve learned to interpret as a warning. Less than a second later, a loud screech echoes above your head.

“Ready your weapons!” Rex shouts, at the same moment you draw one lightsaber.

Faster than your eyes can process, a winged creature swoops down and grabs a trooper—but you don’t need your eyes. The cyan beam of your lightsaber casts a glow on the shadowy ground, and you jump upwards, landing on a large plant that allows you to swing from a vine and graze the blade across the wing of one of the creatures. It falls to the ground with another screech before flying away, relatively unharmed.

One to go.

You’re about to grab hold of a second vine and swing towards the other creature, but a flash of blurred blue and green makes you pull back—Krell beats you to it, landing on top of the creature and wrestling it to the ground.

“Wait—stop!” you shout as he draws his lightsabers, but it’s too late. He’s already skewered the creature mercilessly, and it lies dead on the ground, life blinking out of the Force in an instant.

You jump off of the large plant, landing on both feet, and hook your now deactivated lightsaber onto your belt. “Why did you kill it?” you demand, pushing past several onlooking clones.

“It is nothing more than a violent inhabitant of this area,” Krell dismisses, and you feel your jaw drop.

“But…” you start, at a loss for words. “The Code decrees—”

“The Code,” Krell says coldly as he turns to stare at you, “allows for self defense.”

You draw yourself up to your full height, switching off your lightsaber with a snap-hiss before hooking it back onto your belt. “That’s not what—”

Krell’s lightsabers deactivate loudly, cutting you off, and he returns them to either side of his belt before turning away and continuing on the path. “Anyone else want to stop and play with the animals?”

No one answers, but you feel your fists clench as if of their own accord.

This is going to be a long night.

Umbara’s plant life is fascinating. Observing the bioluminescent life forms is the only thing that serves a proper distraction from both the grumbling clone troopers and the pit of apprehension in your stomach. You’d been walking for twelve hours, give or take, and every time you’d tried to suggest a break to Krell, he’d snapped at you.

This can’t be allowed, you think bitterly, skipping over a glowing pink tree root, boots skidding on the dark purple ground.

You chew on your bottom lip and glance at the clones behind you. They are understandably worn out, and even with the extensive survival training Master Esya drilled into you as a Padawan, you were starting to get tired, too.

“Sir,” says a voice from behind you, and you jump, expecting in your exhaustion to see Krell—but it’s just Rex.

“We’ve been keeping this pace for almost half a rotation,” Rex points out, sounding vaguely nervous. “The men are... starting to tire. General Krell is...” he tilts his head, expressionless visor unreadable. “You know.”

You muster a smile, hoping you look at least a little like Master Enya, and nod.

“I know, Captain,” you say, and he shifts slightly, as though his blue-painted pauldron is uncomfortable. You can’t blame him. Running a hand over your ponytail, you blow out a breath and frown at the puff of air that appears in front of you. “Let me talk to him. Tell the men to start searching for a good spot to camp for a few hours.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Rex giving an affirmative thumbs up to the troopers behind him, but by then you’re already approaching Krell, clasping your hands tightly behind your back.

“Master Krell,” you start, and Krell turns his head just a bit. “I’ve told the men to scout for a place to rest. I reviewed the mission plan on the way here, and we can spare three hours without being delayed, possibly more—”

“The men don’t need rest,” Krell interrupts, and you feel your cheeks flush with anger. “They need resolve to complete the task at hand.”

“Apologies, Master,” you say, squaring your shoulders as frustration heats your neck and face. You breathe deeply. There is no emotion, only peace. “But I don’t think the men will be on their best game when we reach the capital if they don’t take some time to gather themselves.”

“That they need to ‘gather themselves’ is a sign of weakness,” Krell cuts in, stopping and turning to face you with a sneer. “That is not what these clones were bred for.”

Not far away, many of the soldiers bristle at Krell’s choice of words, but you keep your focus on the yellow eyes staring you down for the second time that night.

“They weren’t bred to be mindless droids, either,” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest and making sure to keep your voice even. “And in case you’ve forgotten, even battle droids need to recharge. If we march on the Capital without any sort of break first, I promise you, this mission will not go as planned. Exhausted and underfed soldiers are a guaranteed disadvantage.”

Krell studies you, a sneer forming on his lips. “I see you take after your Master’s incessant need to get the last word on anyone she disagrees with.”

You scowl. “I beg your pardon, but Master Venn is—”

He ignores you, cutting past where you stand and walking away. “Do what you wish, Neridian,” he dismisses, then walks away to stand by a glowing tree.

A sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes. It’s becoming harder and harder not to snap at him—but you know what the Order’s teachings require of you. Emotion, yet peace.

You grimace as Krell retreats to the back of the line, then turn back to the troopers nearby and give Rex a nod. The captain returns it in what you hope is a grateful manner, then calls for the men to make camp at the top of the ridge your group has been climbing.

By the time you gather all the troopers together, the battalion has put together a hasty campsite, with half the troopers having fallen into a fitful sleep and the other half keeping watch while eating as many rations as the limit allows. You frown and approach the trooper you heard Rex talking to earlier, his Force signature familiar from when you were eavesdropping. His helmet is now sitting in his lap, being meticulously cleaned with what little supplies the battalion has on hand.

You study the soldier. He has a tattoo on his right temple, and upon studying it, you realize it’s the same ARC trooper who’d been glaring at Krell when you stepped off the gunship. You wonder what significance the number five has to him.

Taking another step forward, you clear your throat. “Trooper,” you begin, and the soldier looks up curiously before abruptly shooting to his feet and snapping off a salute. You wave a nonchalant hand. “No need for that. I only wanted to ask a favor—can you gather troopers to stand watch? Six at a time, tops, and make sure they take turns so everyone can rest. That includes you.”

“You got it, sir,” says the trooper, and you smile.

“Sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name...” you say, then, and the trooper blinks.

“Oh, uh—it’s Fives, sir.”

“I see,” you reply, gaze flickering to his tattoo and back again. “Thank you, Fives.”

You retreat to your own tent soon after, shrugging off your vambraces and arranging them neatly next to your bedroll. This wouldn’t be the shortest sleep cycle you’d had, what with the nature of your apprenticeship at the temple—but not the longest, either.

From what you can hear inside your tent, the camp is silent. Slowly, you poke your head through the canvas flaps to find exactly six men—as you’d requested—sitting in the center of camp. Farther away, at the outskirts of the circle of tents, sits Master Krell’s hulking form. In spite of yourself, you frown.

“General?” asks a sudden voice above you; letting out an involuntary yelp, you scramble backwards before stopping at the sight of Rex standing near the entrance to your tent.

Embarrassed, you stand up, brushing off your cream-coloured robes. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I could swear I’m not usually so jumpy, I don’t know what—” you look up and stop short.

Rex has removed his helmet.

His blond hair isn’t a surprise this time around, but close up, you’re struck by how tired he looks. There are smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but his face is cast in exhausted shadows.

You wonder if a full night’s sleep is something he’s ever had, or if the training regiments on Kamino prepared him and his brothers for this kind of halfhearted sleep cycle. Curiously, you study him.

Rex’s eyes are golden-brown in the dying light of this shadowy planet. They’re the same shade as all the troopers in the immediate vicinity. And yet, as you stare into them, something in you stirs as your Force signature brushes against his—something you know you’re not supposed to feel.

“Er, General,” Rex repeats, jolting you from your faraway thoughts. “I just wanted to let you know—the scouts are detecting a clear journey from here on out. We have approximately four hours to kick back, as predicted.”

Hurriedly, you turn away and clear your throat awkwardly. “Very good, Captain,” you mumble. “Thank you. You’re—erm, free to go and rest.”

For a moment, Rex looks surprised, but he composes himself seconds later. “Thank you, General,” he says. “But I—”

“Not up for debate,” you interrupt, holding your hand up. Bemused, Rex blinks, so you shoot him a reassuring smile. “You said it yourself: the soldiers need rest. You’re a soldier, yes?”

Rex opens his mouth, probably to say something about him being a Captain, but you lower your hand to rest it on his shoulder. The kind gesture seems to quell him, so you continue. “Don’t exclude yourself in that. Rest well, Captain.”

When you turn and reenter your tent, you don’t catch the way Rex’s eyes linger on the closed flap for far longer than they should, heat prickling up his neck as the remnant of your touch burns itself through his pauldron.

“You too… General.”

series masterlist | next chapter >

taglist: @pinkiemme @the-lady-of-stars @anaklnky @sweetsunflowerkisses @sarasxe @buckethead-over-heels @frietiemeloen @leotatombs @revengeisaconfesionofpain @hoeneyhoeney @idoubleswearimawriter @inkstainedhandswithrings @rollyjogerjones @mandosboobiez @my-own-oracle @mikaslobby @neekid @bloody-valkyrie @spacegiirl @itspauvr @dindadjarin @xlovingheartsx @seriowan @lucyysthings @dont-trust-humanity @danger-xylophones @bonesaldente @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @gaylucanis @obaewankenobis @kriffclone @living-that-best-life @snojii @ur-trash-brock @illiniana @generaldumbbitch @raekixsworld @blueberry-9-pancakes @aquaamethyst96 @stormweather99 @arctrooper69

[miwiheroes]

Bylers, we need to talk about something…

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts pertaining to what will happen in season 5 relating to byler recently, as have we all, but I’ve also been wondering about the audience’s reaction to it if it happens.

Actually, i’ve been more concerned not about the GA’s reaction, but our reaction to how they handle it. I just want to say beforehand, that I might be projecting my issues with negativity and conflict (i’m a very very optimistic person it’s rough being on social media these days lmao) and I also very much believe that they will make byler canon in some way or another. It just makes sense with the narrative. But I fear we will never be happy with how they do it and we never learn from our previous mistakes lmao

Before season 4 came out, I sort of was a fan of byler, but i was very very casual, as in I didn’t interact with many fan theories, I wasn’t on twitter (still not on there because I have a phobia of negativity eek) and I wasn’t on tumblr, I would occasionally check out the edits and fanarts and I think I was just Aware of it, because I always root for the gay ship to happen ofc..

So when season 4 vol. 1 came out I was excited about the direction they were taking byler, and I could see that it was finally canon that Will was gay, rather than theorised. When season 4 vol. 2 came out, I had not been on sttwt or st tumblr during the time between the volumes because I had other fandoms prioritised around the time. I watched the Van Scene with my parents and suddenly I was acutely aware of just how gay they were (because I always get scared of watching anything queercoded around my parents lmao).

By the end of season 4, I was like YES! this season was amazing for a byler set up next season, although i was more focused on other characters too. I then kind of saw the byler script stuff but not the full extent of it, and I saw many edits and fanarts of them but that was it!

Now it’s 2024 and I have a major hyperfixation on byler, (due to the season 5 bts and the fact stranger things keeps popping up on my fyp it’s crazy) and now I’m on byler tumblr (not twt tho .. sorry) to find all the evidence I can and get all hyped up for s5! But I’ve also seen old posts from around 2022…

Literally every single one was extremely disappointed from season 4 vol. 2, and I was confused, seeing as I was very happy with it and I liked byler (my fave byler scene is from vol. 2 and no it’s not the van scene). If I’m being totally honest, and I might get some hate for this, I think we all had wildly, wildly high expectations and the disappointment was our own doing.

I personally never really judge a show before it’s finished (obviously not sitcoms and shows like that) unless it has really really terrible writing ofc, but I always choose to reserve judgement until all the character arcs are wrapped up and I can look back and see why things were made to be.

I understand the whole anger with Mike’s behaviour towards Will and how Will was treated poorly by him, but isn’t that the point? Mike loving Will back in season 5 would then be more satisfying after all that. It’s a set-up for the next season, no?

I don’t know why or how people thought that Mike would suddenly resolve all his internalised homophobia or something during that season, and I reckon if the whole season had come out at once instead of two volumes (i hate the two volumes thing sm omg) people would have been much happier because we wouldn’t have had time to create insane theories or unrealistic expectations that, let’s be real, were not in line with what we have seen so far with byler.

So, I just want to say that I’m a little afraid for season 5, because I know that byler will likely be canon, but people just won’t be happy because it won’t be in the exact way that they had theorised. Sorry to break it to you, but you, random person on tumblr, are not a screen writer. More specifically, you’re not a screen writer for stranger things.

I think it’s fun to theorise at the moment, but I just want to remind people that this pattern has happened before and we never learn? Like, none of our theories are coming true. Not one of them. Did I theorise the exact van scene? Did I theorise the part at the end where Mike grabs Will’s shoulder? No. But am I happy with those scenes? Hell yeah.

So on the build up to season 5, I just want to caution everyone to not assume that specific things are going to happen when it’s just a result of an echochamber (such as the milkvan breakup scene being right at the beginning or the painting being brought up). You’ll just be angry for no good reason.

The only reasons I’m personally going to be angry with how they handle byler is:

1. If it’s not canon and Will’s love goes unrequited/ he has another love interest somehow…

2. If either of them die after having a relationship during season 5 (bury your gays is stUPID)

3. If one of them dies before the other gets to tell them they love them/ kiss

4. If they get together without Mike apologising (it could be in literally any way, obvious or not) for his poor behaviour.

But that’s it, the rest of it is literally up to them.

Hope ur not too mad, but it just needed to be said.

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[ffc1cb]

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle. 

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right. 

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation. 

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change. 

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down. 

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

[lele5429]

CW: discussion of unresolved trauma.

This is my ninth month in the LU community. And I’m only saying this for the first time.

I have an unresolved trauma that involves self esteem and shame about my art.

Due to childhood issues, I feel very insecure about my art, and I’ve destroyed all of my art from before age 14 because of how much I hate them. Sometimes my brain plays tricks on me, and I look at the art I’ve posted and feel intense shame and self-hate. I’ve considered deleting my art account and tumblr multiple times because of how much anxiety I feel about each work I post.

This is especially true when something I’ve worked on for a long time gets very little attention at all.

Or if someone shows off their stats to me, which has recently happened.

After not doing art for five something years, @not-freyja and their wonderful fic brought me back to fandom, and I started making fanart. I spent an unhealthy amount of time stressing over anything I’ve posted, and I feel shame for not being able to stop caring about numbers.

There may be a time when I’ll delete all of my art again and disappear. Maybe that will never happen. Anyways, I’ve had enough of this anxiety, but I’m fighting it every day for my own sake. To all the people who have extended kindness and appreciation for my art, I thank you in ways I cannot express.

I don’t think I will ever make art that gets 1000 notes. That bothers me. If I can let go of it and have it not bother me, I wouldn’t have had to take the medications I’m taking now, which makes me throw up and lose focus.

[sokoneedsagun]

Let’s talk about “replacement”

If you’ve been in the dc fandom for longer than maybe a week, you’ve probably seen it before. It’s present in fanfics, tumblr posts, role plays, and fanart. On the off chance that you somehow don’t know about it, “replacement” is a sort of nickname often used for Tim Drake by Jason Todd

This post is going to be cut, I’m going to leave the explanation out but there should be two other sections under it as well

Where did it come from?

There are two possible places that the use of it came from

The first is from a Batman comic series from 2002 called “hush” and I’ll spare you most spoilers about the comic but the part of it that’s important to this conversation has to do with Bruce, Jason, Tim, Selina, and Clayface

While catwoman is fighting huntress (Helena Bertanelli) who is currently drugged by poison ivy, Bruce is worried that Helena is going to force Selina to kill her so he tells Tim (who is Robin at the time) to stay where is and look for someone

Before Bruce can tell him who he’s looking for a figure appears behind Tim and says he’s the one they’re looking for, before hitting Tim and calling him “pretender”

When Bruce finds Tim he’s being held at knifepoint by “Jason” who begins lashing out and then fighting Bruce. Eventually he melts in the rain and is shown to be only made out of clay, and the real Jason Todd is still dead.

The important thing about this, is that Jason never called Tim “pretender,” he never held Tim at knifepoint point (if you ever see anything about Jason “slitting Tim’s throat” that’s where it’s from, Tim was fine all he needed was a bandage), all of it was done by Clayface who was mimicking Dick Graysons movements and using what he knew about Jason to manipulate Bruce.

As to where “replacement” specifically came from, the only time I’ve ever heard about its origin was in a TikTok where the person who made the video said it came from a fanfic (which is very likely true), in the comics Jason has never called Tim by that name

Why does the nickname not make sense?

The nickname doesn’t make sense because if anyone would be a pretender or replacement, it’s Jason. Jason Todd is one of the original robins but he isn’t the original Robin. That title will always belong to DIck Grayson.

And in brining up something like this you have to acknowledge the origins of the moniker in the first place. The name “Robin” came from a nickname that Mary Grayson had for her son, I’m fairly sure the original reasoning was because he was born in the early spring. The reason DIck chose to go by Robin is because the name was important to him, it let him feel closer to his late mother, similarly to how the original Robin costume is based on his flying Grayson’s outfit.

But when Dick was 17 or 18 he was shot in the shoulder by the joker, and Bruce tells him that he can’t keep risking his life as Robin, so he fires him. Dick moves out to Blüdhaven, starts working almost solely with the teen titans, and gets a new moniker (nightwing) given to him by Superman.

And then Bruce adopts Jason, and he gives him Dick’s name and uniform, putting a new child in the way of harm. And yes, Jason did make Robin his own but it was not his, he would have no right to put a claim over the name.

Why does any of this matter?

In short, it doesn’t. There is nothing inherently wrong with writing Jason using the term but in my opinion for their relationship, it just dosen’t make sense.

In the comics Jason has a complicated relationship with everyone in the batfamily, he’s grappling with coming back to life and trying to find a place for himself while also working through his own grief and anger

When you read comics though, when they’re together they often work well together and even hang out a few times, there’s one panel where Jason is trying to take tim out to get a drink (underage drinking is bad don’t do it/lh), and they have a fairly normal sibling dynamic with each other

Which is why I don’t understand where the concept of all the hate and resentment came from in the fandom, I’m genuinely curious as to know why it’s so prominent everywhere

[sir-adamus]

Feel free to ignore this bc i know the topic is annoying but i was wondering about hbomberguy’s video criticizing rwby… did he admit that he made shit up for that or just flat out didn’t even watch rwby? I feel like I’ve seen that said before but never knew if it was true or if maybe I’m misremembering

Honestly i feel hypocritical for never having watched that video myself but also i try not to engage with shit i know will piss me off. The same can’t be said for 99% of the people who won’t shut up about how much they think rwby sucks 🙄

i don't think he's ever admitted to anything - the level of ego it takes to prostrate yourself as a media critic when all he does is make character attacks against the creators that he knows he can get away with (the weird parasocial dogging on Miles and Kerry, implicating them as paedophiles at one point if i recall correctly. an early version of the video having him shitting on Barbara for a tweet she made telling people not to watch the show if they don't like it that was only removed when viewers pointed out that she'd tweeted that in a specific context - that she and Arryn had been tagged in a fucked up edit of their characters stabbing each other by an asshat in the hatedom - which showcases either his poor research abilities that he didn't look further into that or that he knew and didn't care as it was an opportunity to attack someone else until he found out that the context was known and he couldn't get away with it) doesn't leave much room for self-reflection

i'm in the same boat - i don't watch shit that pisses me off because outrage bait rots your brain and i have better things to do with my life than watch that pretentious turnip lie about shit he doesn't like

from what i do know he misrepresents certain aspects of the show (calls Sun white at one point), makes clear he doesn't pay attention in other parts (claims the 'dust robbery plotline' was dropped and left unresolved when it wasn't). oh and he lies. a lot.

about Monty specifically - because he presents himself as having been a fan of Monty, disappointed that the show was dragged down by Miles and Kerry specifically (and makes it clear he thinks everyone else who works on the show is too talented to be wasting their time on it). and dedicated the video in Monty's memory

except he fucking hated Monty when he was alive, and we know this because of posts he'd made on the somethingawful forums about six months before Monty's death where he shits on Monty, shows blatant contempt for everything Monty had ever done, seems to just not respect anyone who engages in fandom (weird distaste for people who write fanfic, make fanart, cosplay) and throwing everything he says in that video into doubt because he's blatantly lying about having been a fan of the man

and you know why? it's the same reason his Sherlock video primarily focuses on shitting on Moffat and doesn't call much attention to Mark Gatiss's contributions. because it's bad for Hbomb's image to attack a dead man or a gay man - regardless of why he's criticising them

[snail-toes9]

(let me start by saying this is a very long post, and there might be typos)

hello hello! im Matthew, and since i dont have any new fanart to post, i wanted to provide my in-depth analysis of Captain Curly from Mouthwashing! this was originally posted to my tiktok page, and some of the original text has been altered to make more sense; also keep in mind that this can all be taken as personal opinion! this is just my personal analysis of Curly’s character and his relationship with Jimmy.

i want to preface this analysis with this statement: this analysis is not a defense against Curly’s actions (or lack there of). everything i say is the CAUSE behind the lack of action he took against Jimmy, and the reason he handled the situation he did. reason and excuse are not synonyms: this is why he acted the way he did, but it does not excuse his lack of action, and it does not free him from fault, nor does it take away the damaged that he (indirectly) helped cause. now, let’s begin with my analysis of Curly’s character!!

People tend to forget that things aren't just black and white, good and evil - Curly is an example of this; his need to keep the peace and make everyone happy unfortunately extended to Jimmy, partially because Jimmy had known him for a long time and had a lot of time (possibly years) to manipulate him.

I’ve seen people say Curly might have some for of Stockholm Syndrome with Jimmy, this is plausible as we can see in many scenes (the birthday scene, for example) that Jimmy talks down on Curly, constantly demeaning him, and Curly lets it happen.

Curly's need to keep Jimmy happy is part of what led to the events that take place; not to mention he was most likely afraid of what would happen if he confronted him. This, however, does not excuse his lack of action taken against Jimmy.

Anya confided in him, she looked to him for protection and he failed her. He DID want to help, he DID want to protect Anya, but he wanted to protect Jimmy, too. Curly had known Jimmy for a long time, and his course of action after Anya told him what had happened is very realistic: most men, when faced with that situation, will want to protect their friend.

There wasnt MUCH Curly could have done differently, but there were definitely things he could've done:

1. Put Jimmy in a cryo-pod

2. Hide any and all weapons

3. Hide the auto pilot keys

That being said, this, again, was somebody Curly had known for a very long time, and he had very little time to actually process what was going on. We see in the game that the time between when Curly got the news about pony express shutting down, to when Anya told him she was pregnant, to when Jimmy crashed the ship, was not a long term event; it happened very quickly, over the course of less than a week (POSSIBLY 8 days, dont quote me on that).

By the time Curly had finally realized what he should've done, what a monster Jimmy was, it was too late. The ship had crash and he was rendered incapacitated.

The game is about taking responsibility, which Curly failed to do before things took a turn for the worst. By the time he realized what he had done, he couldn't take responsibility; he couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. There was no way for him to fix things (not that he could, but he couldn’t even try), there was no way for him to apologize to Anya, to the rest of the crew. By the time he realized what a huge mistake he had made, it was impossible for him to do anything about it.

Curly has some fault in the events that transpired, seeing as he didn't do everything he should've and could've done to immobilize Jimmy, to protect the crew, and to most

importantly, protect Anya.

However, that doesn't make him a bad person. Curly's fault doesn't lie in his intentions, but in his actions. He was acting with his heart, not his head. He was so caught up in making sure everyone was happy, that he lost sight of what was truly important: safety.

The events that took place would have never taken place if not for one key factor: Jimmy. If he had not been on that ship, none of the horrific incidents would’ve never occurred.

And the reason he was on that ship, was Curly. Curly helped Jimmy get that job. He saw what Jimmy could've been, instead of seeing him for what he really was: a manipulative, selfish, narcissistic, and honestly, evil man.

Curly knew that something about Jimmy wasn't right, he knew there was a reason he was at rock bottom. He knew, and looked past it because he wanted to believe that he could be better.

In his mind, Jimmy just needed help to turn his life around. Anya says in the game "I want to believe our worst moments dont make us monsters." I believe that Curly subconsciously had this same mindset towards Jimmy for YEARS.

Curly wanted to believe that his best friend was a good person, despite what he knew about him prior to the events we see in the game, despite all the manipulation he endured at Jimmy’s hands, he wanted to believe that he was good.

And ultimately, that was his downfall. He was too kind, too trusting, and too set on keeping everyone happy.

Curly lacks self respect, he let Jimmy walk all over him, all over Anya. He unintentionally enabled Jimmy not only out of fear of what he might do when confronted, but out of a lack of respect for himself.

If Curly had even an ounce of self respect, he would've stood up to Jimmy. But he lacked that respect for himself, Jimmy knew that and he used it to his advantage.

Jimmy is at fault for everything that took place. Jimmy SA’d Anya, Jimmy manipulated Curly, Jimmy crashed the ship. But Curly is not innocent. Despite his desire to help, to protect, he enabled Jimmy and by proxy has some fault in the events that transpired.

And these are the types of characters that you don't see often in media; morally grey characters, characters that aren't perfect but aren't evil either. Media is so flooded with pure evil and pure good, that people try to fit characters who are realistic and morally grey into that pure evil or pure good box, and it doesn't work, because they are not one or the other.

They are both and neither at the same time, and that is what makes them too human for a lot of people to properly understand and comprehend. (more on that in a separate post, later down the road).

and that concludes my in-depth analysis of Curly’s character!!!! to everyone that made it this far, thanks for reading!!! feel free to tweak anything you disagree with, and let me know if something is worded incorrectly!

i’ll post a more in-depth explanation about my “too human” end statement at some point, but i’m finishing school, and my birthday is tomorrow so i’m quite busy here lately!! more art, analysis’, and more ramblings coming soon^_^ bye bye!!

[human-rocket]

Posting my first Big Bang piece this week… 👀

I’ve never participated in a fandom event before. Years ago I began a long struggle with burnout. I stopped posting fanart (barely had the energy to draw anything not related to work) and became a lurker in these spaces. I never would have thought I’d be posting art again, let alone actually interacting with others online. I just really love this fandom and the confidence it’s given me artistically and socially. I have so much respect for writers and artists that continually share their work and are loud about their passions and interests. Everyone who participated in this event inspire me so much.

Be sure to peep the @obikinbb page to see all the great work they’ve done ❤️

[tatumsversion13]

possible TW abuse, necrophilia, pro shipping

please read // accusation of being pro ship and engaging with necro fanfiction

I just came across this and I feel like I need to adress some things.

first of all, I DO NOT condone any glamorization of abuse or necrophilia and it upsets me that some people might think otherwise. I’ve created this account two weeks ago to try and connect with others who enjoy Scream just as much as I do but also as a form to inspire myself through fanfic, fanart, etc. When I’m outside or busy, I tend to mass like posts without further checking the tags or what they’re really about (which is probably not the brightest idea) so I can come back and read them later on. Apparently I’ve liked a fic that contained necrophilia. I was not aware that I had liked it but I’m glad someone brought it to my attention! It was 100% unintentional and I am not interested in reading stuff like that. I should’ve known better and double check before liking posts but I never realised it could be a bad idea because I honestly trusted my algorithm to not show me that kind of content. I didn’t even know people were writing about stuff like that. I understand the confusion but it was definitely not intentional. I apologise for any harm of confusion that may have caused.

pro shipping :

Assuming anon defines pro shipping as a person being okay with the shipping of different fictional characters whether they’re canon or not: honestly I don’t really understand the issue with this. Since when is pro shipping a bad thing? I mean the main reason this blog exists is because of a ship..? I only reblog stuff about stu x billy since that’s the only ship I care about regarding Scream (not including gale and dewey i mean they’re cute but idrc). After all those are FICTIONAL characters?? Most of the people I follow are stuilly shippers and the actors themselves openly talk about shipping their own characters? Besides, why would I care if people have other ships, as long as none if it glorifies things like pedophilia and/or abuse (and no, no matter how toxic, in my opinion and from the fanfics I’ve read so far, Stu and Billy’s relationship does not glorify abuse since all of their intimate acts are consensual).

If you consider pro shipping as shipping without limits (ignoring, condoning or glamorizing abuse, pedophila, necrophilia etc. that’s definitely NOT something I would EVER read or approve.

For the rest, I could care less about other people’s interests in fan FICTION (again, as long as they don’t contain any if the things I just mentioned). Feel free to correct me if I forgot something.

misogyny :

I made a post joking about how I don’t like Sidney in Scream 1/still hold a grudge against her. Not liking a character in a fictional movie does not make me misogynistic and I can’t believe I have to explain that. I absolutely adore Sidney’s character throughout the Scream franchise but I have no problem admitting that I did not like her in Scream 1996 for the simple fact that she killed my favourite characters (and she was just annoying). I know she had to defend herself and it’s a movie. Not liking a fictional character is never that deep and it doesn’t have anything to do with Neve.

Anyways, this is not what I expected to see when I came on here and I’m sorry if this sounds a bit defensive, i’m just tired of people acting like they know anything about others without confronting the person first but I am glad I’ve been made aware and I’ll pay attention to the content I engage with in the future! I hope this cleared things up and I’m sorry again.

P.S. If you have any issues with me regarding something I’ve said or engaged with, I would prefer if you dmed me so we can talk about it personally. Thank you for reading!