pap-da-coconut - Tumblr blog

[pap-da-coconut]

umm henloo :)))

sorry i've been frozen dead for so long but (!!) i finished my first semester of uni last week (i'm studying animation now yippiiee :DD)

(tbh i really wanted to come back to posting on here but i couldnt even draw at first. the school made me feel so overwhelmed and i was even regretting enrolling at first BUT i think im finally getting my shit together and the relationship with my art is slowly starting to heal and also! we have the greatest most blorboest teachers ive ever seen and i love them and i stan them and-)

!!anyway i can (kinda sorta) make pictures move now woo :DD pspspss wanna see a littol bit of my semestral "film"?

(its not perfect but considering we did not do the basics and i had no experience with animating before i'm really proud of myself xD)

ANYWAYYSSS MAGNUS PROTOCOL HUH??!?

i didnt listen to it yet because all my time and energy was going towards the semestral film and aaaaaaa i have to catch up now!!

it makes me feel so uneasy though because. guys this podcast means SO MUCH to me. TMA got me through my moms illness, through shit highschool, got me out of a really bad artblock AND it basically got me into my current uni ??? (not even overexaggerating)

like. i need tmagp not to ruin it tzjgfxhg xD i am going to throw up but i also cant not listen to it so.. ✌️lesgooooo lesgoooooooouaaaa

[pap-da-coconut]

:DD thanks for tagging me

i dont really have many comfort films, i usually have just one and it changes like once every 3 years but ill try to remember and list at least some of them

1. The Personal History of David Copperfield

2. The Grand Budapest Hotel

3. Darjeeling Limited

4. Mimořádná událost (Emergency situation)

5. Vlastníci (Owners)

6. Love Actually and 7. The holiday (2006) but thats just because we watch it w mom every winter and its become a tradition ok- jfgdvjfs xD

I'm pretty sure that i forgor so many films i watched over and over at some point but oh well

i'll tag: @roxiusagi @dangerouslyhungryprocrastiner @satosensen @echo-the-ghost also no pressure :]]

Top 7 Comfort Films

Thanks for the tag @almost-born-in-1893 and @fandomsmeantheworldtome!

These are in no particular order:

1. Labyrinth

2. Les Choristes

3. The Girl Next Door

4. Bill

5. Rocketman

6. Big Hero 6

7. Goodnight Mr Tom

Honourable mention for Saltburn because it’s not necessarily a comfort film but I’m obsessed with it right now and the only thing I can think about is watching it over and over again!

I’ll tag @spineless-lobster @a-poetic-cosmos and anybody else who fancies it (absolutely no pressure!) ☺️

[pap-da-coconut]

hi! have you moved to a different blog or are you just not posting anymore? :)

Hello! uh.. yeah, i have to come clean: I've kind of abandoned Tumblr right now - just... not because I wanted to.

Ok sorry this might be a bit of a infodump - probably not what you wanted but anyway.

I kinda fucked everything up, huh? It all started with some mental health issues, which then spiralled into shame because I didn't respond to so many lovely asks. So I started avoiding opening Tumblr completely. (good idea yes)

And then I had to start preparing for my uni entrance exams, making my portfolio and such. Then the second rounds of entrance exams (which take three gruelling days). All this time I've spent thinking about Tumblr and I was horribly ashamed.

And when i finally thought i could return and... fix (?) things I've realised that i've yet to graduate high school, which. uh ohs. i haven't done anything for that + our teachers just straight up abandoned us in this one so its kind of a... DIY process and i'm. breaking down.

ANYWAY! I'm supposed to have the speaking exams (the final part) on the 17th of May and THEN. THEN i'm gonna be FREE of this GODDAMNED INSTITUION (which lowkey is one of the things that ruined my mental health in the first place) and then I want to start posting again. for real this time. I just hope that they'll let me pass (even if solely on the basis of having straight As all 8 years XD).

I apologise to all of you who have sent asks and din't get a response. I do appreciate it and I love all of you but sometimes I'm just a dumb brick that can't deal even w simple things.

And lastly, thank you anon for sending this ask, which broke through my massive wall of shame and finally forced me to..god, to open this site after like half a year? sfgfhd oh no im so sorry fhghm

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after more than 6 months of looking like this, i've successfully updated my profile pic.....procrastination is real, babes ú_🔴_u

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ssoooo this was supposed to go on my sideblog buuut......i low key like it so... on main it goes :]

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To celebrate the anniversary of his second(!) fall from the roof, my father has fallen into a brook and destroyed all the electronics he had on him. Impeccable.

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were you a homestuck or

uh..no..

but why doe.....

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yES YEASSS THE FIC HAS BEEN WRITTEN

could not stop thinking about this post by @pap-da-coconut and wrote a little thing for it! cw for arguments and vague mentions of mag 200 events

.

“I’m just saying, it would be way easier if we just—oh, not again.”

The door to the Archives shuts behind Tim, cutting off the faint murmur of the Institute proper and leaving behind only the buzzing of the shitty overhead lights and the sound of sharp voices from further down. Tim considers, just for a moment, turning right back around and eating in the canteen instead. But Sasha arches an eyebrow at him and he sighs before following her down the stairs.

After all, he does have a running bet with her about who will win more arguments—Jon or Martin. Sasha’s currently in the lead by a hair, and that just won’t do.

“Maybe Jon’ll be the one to cave first this time,” he says conversationally as they reach the bottom of the stairs. “Extra fiver says that Martin leaves him speechless?”

“Oh, I’ll take that bet.”

Tim locks pinkies with Sasha and squeezes. She smirks at him, then turns and brushes past him to enter the bullpen. Tim rolls his eyes and follows her in.

Maybe it’s a bit unprofessional to place bets on the increasingly fervent arguments that Jon and Martin have been getting into lately. But the situation as a whole is probably unprofessional. Also, it’s fun, and Tim will take all the entertainment he can get down in this dark, dusty basement.

Jon doesn’t seem to notice when Tim and Sasha enter. He stands with arms folded, giving Martin a glare that could peel paint off a wall. Martin, seemingly impervious to it, stares back impassively, like the entire discussion isn’t worth his time. This, predictably, only seems to be riling Jon up more.

“—please, by all means, explain to me how it makes sense that a hot dog—a hot dog, Martin—is a taco?”

Martin sighs and points to something on his desk. “I’ve drawn it for you. Tacos have a container on three sides and a filling. Hot dogs have a container on three sides and a filling. Therefore, hot dogs are tacos.”

Jon opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Tim looks at Sasha with one eyebrow raised, and after a few more moments of stunned silence, Sasha sighs and surreptitiously slips Tim a fiver. Honestly, she could have folded it into a paper airplane and thrown it at him; the two of them still wouldn’t have noticed.

“They are completely different foods!” Jon makes a frustrated noise, like he’s exactly two seconds away from stomping his foot like an angry toddler. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me next that Pop-Tarts are ravioli? Or that cereal is soup?”

Martin hesitates. “Well. I mean.”

“Martin Blackwood.”

“Oo, full name,” Sasha whispers. “Intense.”

“Look," Martin says, "clearly you’re a materials purist, not a form purist, which is—fine.” A pause. “Wrong, but fine—”

“Oh, don’t you—”

Tim can’t hold back a snicker when Jon snatches up a paper from Martin’s desk and folds it in half, then stuffs a pen into the crease. He holds it like it’s committed some great offense to him personally. “Well? Is this a taco?”

“Jon. Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

Jon’s face lights up in triumph. “Ha! I thought you said anything with a container on three sides and a filling is a taco?”

“It has to be edible. Come on, Jon.”

“Don’t you—don’t look at me like—it is a perfectly reasonable rebuttal, and I will not be—”

“I mean, reasonable is a bit of a stretch, but I suppose if you were really reaching, you could—”

“Sasha.” Tim holds up his sub sandwich and wiggles it at her. “Hey, Sasha. My sandwich has bread on three sides. Is it a taco?”

“That depends. Do you think it’s a taco?”

“Mm, well played, Miss James.”

Martin throws his hands up in the air and spins around in his chair so his back is to Jon. “That’s it. I’m not entertaining this anymore. You’re clearly unwilling to admit that you’re wrong, so I’ll just get that follow-up for the Potts statement that you were asking for and—”

“I’m unwilling to admit that I’m wrong?” Jon laughs humorlessly. “Right. And you’re just always right.”

“I—I mean, not always, but in this specific circumstance I really think—”

“Oh, of course, because what you think is all that matters.”

Martin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No. I’m done.”

Jon jabs a finger at Martin. “We are not done here. How can you—?”

Just as Tim lifts his sandwich to his mouth to take a bite, Jon’s sentence—reaching a tremoring crescendo—stops abruptly. Tim lowers his sandwich and turns to see Jon staring off into the distance, hand still halfway extended. Tim follows his gaze, but there’s nothing there—just a blank wall with a row of haphazardly filled shelves along it. Tim is about to turn to Sasha to make some joke about Jon finally snapping—and maybe to brag about tying up the score again—when he hears a small hitch of breath, barely audible above the hum of the lights.

Martin’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging half-open as he stares at that same non-existent point in the distance. Then, as Tim watches, Martin slowly uncrosses his arms and brings a hand up to his mouth. He presses his palm down tightly, like he’s trying to hold something in.

“Um,” Sasha whispers. “What is happening right now?”

“I—I don’t…” Tim’s eyes shift from Martin to Jon again, who now looks stricken. Jon’s eyes drift down and land on his hand, hovering in the air. He slowly straightens his fingers, wiggling them like he’s unfamiliar with the shape of his own hand. Before Tim can think too deeply about the implications of that, Jon’s eyes find Martin, and an expression crosses his face that Tim can’t quite place.

Well. Tim can place it, actually. But it doesn’t make any sense.

“M … Martin?” Jon says softly.

Martin’s sharp intake of breath is audible even with his hand over his mouth. He spins quickly in his chair and just stares at Jon. It’s such a sharp contrast from the situation literally ten seconds ago that Tim doesn’t know what to do other than to just sit there and think, blankly, what the hell?

“Jon?” Martin says, just as softly.

Tim gives Sasha a look that plainly says that he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. She gives him one in return that assures him that no, he’s not seeing things—this strange, off-kilter scene in front of them really is happening, and it is weird.

Tim has just about gathered the wherewithal to speak up when Martin stands abruptly. His chair spins away from him, wheels squeaking on the cheap lino floor. The tension between him and Jon has reached never-before-seen levels. Tim could probably cut it with a knife. Or a particularly sharp spoon.

Then, Jon lurches forward and half-clambers atop the desk and kisses Martin, and Tim drops his sandwich.

Even more shocking, Martin kisses back. Enthusiastically. There’s tongue. Tim can see it. Tim is going insane.

He stands, perhaps even more quickly than Martin, and grips Sasha tightly by the shoulder. “Sasha. Sasha, please tell me that you are seeing this.”

Sasha is staring wide-eyed at the Jon-and-Martin spectacle currently blowing Tim’s entire mind. “What,” she enunciates. “The fuck.”

Tim couldn’t have said it better himself.

When the two of them finally come up for air—after a ridiculously long period of time during which Tim feels his soul slowly ascend toward the heavens—Jon cradles Martin’s face tenderly. “I—I thought that you—I thought we—”

Martin grips Jon’s forearms like if he lets go, Jon will slip away. “You’re okay,” he says hoarsely.

Jon pinches his lower lip between his teeth and nods. “I—I’m okay. We’re … we’re okay.” Then, with a bit of a frown. “Is this … are we in the Archives?”

His eyes find Tim’s at the same time that Martin’s do, and they both freeze in tandem.

Tim raises a hand and waves it slowly. “Hi, guys. Um. Just a—a quick question. Yeah, uh. What the hell?”

Jon, still kneeling on top of the desk and apparently incapable of removing his hands from Martin—what the fuck—keeps staring at him wordlessly. Martin just echoes, “What the hell.”

“Hey, I asked first.”

Sasha, apparently recovered from the shock of the minor miracle they’d just witnessed, points an accusing finger at the two of them. “I knew it!”

“Oh, you absolutely did not,” Tim says. “I call bullshit.”

“Prove it, Stoker. You can’t.”

“You would have made a bet about how long it would take for this to happen if you knew.”

Sasha deflates slightly. “Fine. You’re no fun.”

When Tim looks back at Jon and Martin, Martin is pressing a kiss to the top of Jon’s head. Which is somehow weirder than the full-out snogging they’d just witnessed. And which is also somehow weirder than Jon and Martin saying completely straight-faced that they’d just gotten years’ worth of future memories downloaded into their brains.

Then, Martin says with a frown, “Oh. We don’t have our wedding rings anymore,” and Tim’s brain flees his body entirely. Tim.exe has stopped working. Complete system malfunction. Reboot required immediately.

“I’m going to go make some tea,” he says faintly.

He turns and walks across the bullpen, trying to scrape together some higher brain function. Just before he reaches the corridor, he hears Sasha say nonchalantly, “So, Jon. I have a question for you.”

“Mm?”

“It’s very important. Essential, even.”

“Right. Er, go—go ahead, then.”

Sasha’s grin is audible. “Would you say that a hot dog is a taco?”

[pap-da-coconut]

@ tma fanfic writers where the "they get memories from the future in the middle of an argument" fics at?? ú___u /lh

click for better quality, tunglr really fukd me over with these u____u

[pap-da-coconut]

I made a thing!! :DD

So this started as a joke when I heard this song in a car again after like 7 years and then I got a new editing software and wanted to try it aaaand...this kinda happened...uh...yeah I speedran some parts tho in order to get it out on October 18th but am still lowkey proud of it? :D Considering it's my first animatic ever

((also yes, I am posting it again because i forgot to add the video player but you do that ajgjkjhskh))

v below are some good cows from when we went to Jan's hill

While making this I kept humming Jan's hill almost every day until my parents noticed and were like "oooh we've never been to Jan's hill!" so went to Jan's hill and i took pictures of some very good cows and now feel the need to share them with all of u so here u go:

martin would b proud. ú__u

also while you're here u will receive these:

made them because i couldnt decide on which scenes from s1 to use so i made a chart and let my friends vote and they thought it was funny so I'm including it here

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So me and @roxiusagi wanted to try AI Dungeon....it was....hysterical...to say at least...

so of course i had to doodle the whole thing u‿u

text starting with > is us

the rest is the AI (its a littol confused but it got the spirit)

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Don't forget to drinks some water and take a break. You are good and your art is lovely.

Aaaa thank youuuu (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

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stëam haha

Opening stęâm almost crashed my pc this better b-

YoOOooOoo

Thamk u fren! ( ◜‿◝ )♡

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them :))

bonus lonely eyes because i refuse to do a serious doodle of the bastards u__u

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these doodles werent meant to see the light of day but my friend wanted to reblog them so,,,, here they are i guess i- uh- yeah

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For Teru´s birthday they went to look at some penguins!! :DD Reigen hates penguins.

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