#wip: separate ways

[hybridtheories]

been working out my losers designs for my own personal version or whatever. theyre kids in the mid 70s. more soon

[superbellsubways]

🍂

[bottominerights]

what if i go wild and take the chance to explore akafuriaka but in the sense that it's orefuriboku and furihata has two hands

[blazingsaza]

Till tomorrow i guess

I'm losing light, so i can't document my coloring 😑

[cozylittleartblog]

random note about king on that animation, i got really lucky with how simple his animation was and how clean my sketches were to begin with that i was able to do very minimal cleanup on what i had sketched (and add back. his horn. it's supposed to take place just after echoes of the past, Oops) and call it done that way instead of having to redraw the entire thing like i had to on his dad

first sketch > line cleanup > nearly final animation (i'd added slight eye movements last-second but otherwise that's the final)

[pencildragons]

snippet of married sabé/padmé/anakin, or as i like to call it, 'ani(dala)^2 couples counselling saves the galaxy that i'd said i'd share. this fic was originally meant to be codywan (or possibly cody/obi-wan/quinlan), and this is from its opening, hence . the codywan in it lolol. i think if i Do end up writing this, this fic would be the second or third part of a series, with the first work focusing more on. what is outlined in above linked post :]

Dear Cody, Obi-Wan writes. His hand is shaking, and the ink blots untidily about the flimsi, pooling at the stems of his lettering. I think you would like the mountain belt Padmé has whisked us away to. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision six months after we moved to Naboo; after years of having to do everything and say everything in careful moderation, as is befitting for a politician, I think she delights in wild spontaneity. Or perhaps it is just the time she has spent in critical proximity to Anakin. It is likely that he delights in her wild spontaneity too, more’s the pity. Now, instead of my Padawan merely being a bad influence on his wife, they are just bad influences on each other. It is a vicious, vicious cycle. Then again, when I think back to Christophsis—the first time, the week before I met you—perhaps this is not such a new development. I’m rambling. Back to the mountain belt. The tallest of its peaks is nineteen thousand metres, but the one that we now reside on is but a modest three thousand metres in height, known in the local language as Jaraam. Much of the belt and the surrounding region was colonised by a northern provence until Monarch Réillata, Padmé’s predecessor as Ruler of Naboo, brought about total planetary unification approximately fifteen years ago, at which point reparations were begun to be made. Since the reparations and the land being both placed under legislative protection from corporate or urban development and returned to its custodians, the traditional practices of transhumance between the high mountain pastures where we now reside, and the lower, warmer valleys has been allowed to flourish. Padmé’s mother, Jobal, hails from the semi-nomadic community whose territory includes Jaraam, and was wholeheartedly supportive of the decision to come here. I am to understand that she took great pains to ensure that both her children were taught of their heritage, of their language and culture, and it is a relief to her that her eldest is reconnecting with it. Anakin has told Padmé in no uncertain terms that he will not hear a word spoken in this house of Basic or of Nubian, the language so thoroughly globalised that the planet was named after it during its entry into the Republic, until after the children begin to learn those themselves when they enter the schooling system. He is adamant that along with Amatakka and Dai Bendu (at my request; believe you me that I will be shocked until the end of my days that he agreed, and without a fight), the children will also learn to speak first in Durrathaam, the language of this place. ‘Tongues of the heart’, he called it; I think fatherhood has changed him, Cody, for there is a maturity in him now that I do not recognise.

We are living in an old stone hut built for such semi-nomadic herders currently—Padmé tells me it is where her great-great-grandfather was born. Truth be told, I do not mind the hut. It is chill at night and the only power source comes from a singular solar generator that Anakin jury-rigged, relegated to powering the kitchen, the ‘fresher, and the comm-signal relay, and it is most certainly not a space space meant to be shared by four adults, three droids, and two infants, but we make do. Padmé and Sabé are, however, concocting plans to enlist the hordes of teenlings and young adults of House Thule, Padmé’s maternal family group, who apparently have nothing better to do than to help design and build a chateau. …And still I ramble. Oh, this place is beautiful, Cody. I remember the wonder in your eyes when we landed on Hoth and you saw that huge mountain range in the distance once the snowstorm had settled and the air was clear, and the view is somewhat similar. You can see for klicks and klicks, further than you could ever on Coruscant, even to the granite cliffs on the horizon before they plunge into the sea. If one looks up, one can see the sky, quite devoid of clouds and a soft, pinkish red, generally with a moon or two visible even in the daytime, although disrupted by the snow-capped horns of the mountains surrounding us. If one looks down, one can see the valleys spread out across the land, deep hollows of green and forests of close-growing alpine trees and the little settlements nestled among them. I feel like I can breathe, here. Now, for the most important thing; the star of this system is small and hot, and the sunrises—I think you would like the sunrises, Cody. I would even go so far as to say that they would make your list of the top twenty greatest sunrises you’ve ever personally witnessed. They’re better here than they are in Theed, I daresay, although I shall of course leave this final judgement to you. Yours always, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan puts down his pen and stares out the window at the cool light of the not-yet-dawn sparkling across the frost, then sighs and reaches beneath the dark recesses of his bed for the small plastoid box. It is not particularly big, although its protective casing is heavy, and he settles it on his lap, brushing his thumb over the small lock in the centre of the lid. Its key, slim and fine, is strung around his neck on the same cord as a chip of his lineage river-stone and the broken tip of a helmet antenna and the worn charms that Bant and Quinlan had made in their Padawan years long-past after his return from Melidaan; a collection of keepsakes from some of the most important people in his life that are now gone for whatever reason, be it distance or death. He dips his hand into his sleep tunic and draws the whole lot out, fits the key into its hole, and turns it. The box contains the few other material possessions that he owns: Anakin’s braid; his own lightsaber; a dozen prized ‘graphs that he hasn’t yet pinned upon the wall; the comm; and, beneath it all, a small sheaf of flimsies, folded neatly into thirds. He takes the letter from his lap and waves it in the air to dry. When the ink has set, he creases it into three with care and slips it to the very bottom of the pile, then shuts the lid, locks it, and replaces the box in its hiding place once more. He wonders, just for a moment, what his ex-Padawan and his wife and her wife would think if they knew that, once a week for the past eight months, he’s been writing letters to a man almost certainly dead. (It really doesn’t bear thinking about.)

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging it!!! it rlly means a lot to me :3

[cream-and-tea]

yeah i’m thinking about parallels in my own book. yeah it’s gonna be all day sorry.

[wings-0f-sorrow]

While this is really a headcanon and not actually canon, I have fully convinced myself that Pyrrha can sing and nobody can change my mind. I HAVE THE PROOF TO BACK IIIIIIIIIIIIIT 📣📣📣

It's the only proof I need, but Pyrrha's JP VA can sing :D I put together a bunch of clips of her that I've found (that sound like pyrrha bc her VA has quite a bit of range) so I can share this canon-to-me headcanon of mine in full :-) [oh and let me tell you, getting the clips from Navigatoria was AGONY- its nearing lost media status at this point!! It's sold out everywhere and the only reason I have the clips at all is thanks to the wayback machine, as someone archived the promo video which included the clips from that mini album!! Bless whoever archived it...]

[pencilofawesomeness]

WIP Ask Game: tagged by @primordialpaper

Tag game rules: share the file names of your five most recently edited WIPs. When someone types the name into your inbox, share a sentence snippet from it!

Since this is specifically the file name, it'll get a bit funky lol, though I'll go ahead and do the subheaders on my mega doc

1. HTRYDS Current Chapter

2. JJK With the Storm

3. Icarus Is A Hot Stove

4. JJK There's a Place for Us

5. JJK x MHA May Death Never Stop You - Megumi AU

Thanks for the tag! As for further victims.... (No pressure of course)... Let's go with @kiliinstinct @spot-of-tea and @genavere

[teeayohess]

i wonder what this could possibly be for.... 🤡

(thank you again @letomills for editing the mesh for me! you're awesome 🖤)

[setmeatopthepyre]

WIP titles game

tagged by @beanarie, thank you!

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs as you please. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

okay. so. my writing folder is an extremely chaotic collection of bits and pieces of wips strewn across various documents. and also like half or more of the documents are notes or outlines or ideas. some docs are like 4 lines of dialogue. but hey, maybe it's fun to see a little bit of my process so I'll just put a bunch of the names here and let you choose. you may not always get fic but you will definitely get something (might be plot ideas, might be research, might be fic, might be random lines of dialogue)

839 plot beats

tommy in the army notes

plot beats antarctfic

antarctfic waiting for evac

antarctfic-research-notes

2039 aka time stops shared nde notes

thoughts on tommy and the bridge -> fully shared here

helicopter info

dead probie scene vic emmerson jail

the ex - the victor saga

i know maybe you didnt think i was serious -> fully shared here

antarctfic queer notes

839 - hot people are just hot convo

antarctfic abby convo tommy lucy

antarctfic buck yelling -> fully shared here

antarctfic bubbling buck -> fully shared here & here

antarctfic tommys you dont find it you make it -> fully shared here

victor not chill -> fully shared here

okay I think that's enough :') uhh. numbered them so they're easier to send asks about.

not gonna tag 18 people but I will no-pressure tag @ambernotember @geddyqueer @sugarpenchant @leashybebes @epiphainie @screamlet @sugarpenchant

[melien]

Been a bit quiet (aside from story posts that I occasionally draft) but I've been archiving a lot of old stuff including my OG Fletcher legacy to have easy access to it in the docs (and maybe get some inspiration/thoughts for the characters who are still relevant in my verse by seeing how their original development went) and damn one of my main takeaways was that I absolutely slept on Kyle and Lyra as a couple. Now that I have a special soft spot for couples that are best friends first I see their beauty and I love them both separately and together😭

[blazingsaza]

If i'm restarting this, imma be hurting😩

[plusultraetc]

For the WIP folder game, I want to hear more about "practice all your worst mistakes" please!

I actually love that you asked about this one because it's the sequel to 'there's no good tricks but old ones' and I love the title. SO much. I'm going to add both fics to a series and call it 'the magician,' in part because of the song I'm pulling the titles from, and in part because I Have Feelings about Hawks + the magician tarot card. as always I am pulling out the board with the red strings when it comes to him, but if you take a step back the red strings are actually forming giant question marks and this emoji: 😭

even though he isn't in this snippet, Tokoyami actually does show up in this fic!! which is. really fun after Hawks' meditations on how bad of a teacher he was in 'there's no good tricks but old ones' 😬

[silverior968]

So, here's the TFP/Skulduggery Pleasant AU fic I've been working on and eluding to since may. Very Optiratch focused, although I'm trying to expand and add more characters and dynamics and such. For SP fans I can jingle the keys of Larrikin, Skulduggery and Ghastly making appearances and a bunch of worldbuilding about different magic disciplines, The Caves and Proto-Cleavers

In terms of where in the timeline the fic is, the latest chapter takes place in 1620, and so far only the oldest of the characters are around (because the rest of them quite simply haven't been born yet)

Also, here's a drawing I made related to the AU, a bit farther down the timeline than the current most recent chapter but still nowhere near present day

Unfortunately the giant Pyrenese dog with the Wolf collar is symbolic in nature, there are no giant dogs in the fic. It would be an altogether less grim affair if there were giant dogs, I think.

[Image ID: A digital painting of a younger, human Ratchet from the AU described above, accompanied by the front half of a giant great pyrenees dog. The background is a muted cyan color. The dog is farther away in the background, leaping forward with its teeth bared. Its white fur is stained red with blood, mostly originating from a rusty anti-wolf collar on its neck, which means that most of the blood doesn't belong to the dog itself. It has a sad look in its eyes. The rest of the dog disappears where its silhouette crosses over Ratchet's, who is likewise charging forward with a scythe wielded with both hands, bent backwards for a swing. The scythe's blade has gone black in certain parts, and is covered in blood. One of his legs is bent in front of him and the position of the scythe makes his arm cross over his face as an intentional reference to "The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel. He's wearing an outfit that consists of white trousers, black boots and a white tailcoat with gold details, like buttons and epaulettes. The outfit is also stained in blood, with two large red spots on his side and thigh, from which Vitakinetic life energy is spilling out as white sparks. As an added effect of Vitakinesis ( the Skulduggery Pleasant version of healing magic) his bones are glowing white through his skin and his pupils are white. He's drawn as a white man with pale, lightly freckled skin and red hair. His irises are cyan-colored, and there are distinct dark spots under his eyes. He has very thick eyebrows and long, slightly wavy hair. The artist's signature, "Silverior968" is overlayed over the image in white. The color palette is inspired by the album cover for "The Albatross" by Foxing. / End ID]

[jonathanbyersphd]

Regarding your frog heist fic: I feel the need to tell you that, when I first started reading your excerpt where Jonathan talks to Ms. Kelley, my first thought was "oh, no, he got caught doing unhinged nature boy things and someone finally made him talk to a counselor about that specifically!" I love that passage as it is, but I also keep laughing at the idea of the frog heist being the last straw for some authority figure or another.

Miss Kelley upon seeing 60 frogs vanish overnight: Oh he needs professional HELP