#he’s still technically a WIP

[raddest-laddest]

Can we see the quirrel plush from your last post? I'm not sure if it's yours, but if it is, please show the man.

and also (if you've made it yourself) can I know what kind of fabric you've used? It looks like some sort of denim and it's so pretty!

i think i’ve shown him before but i will g l a d l y show him again

BEHOLD: THE MAN

he’s filled with wires and foil so he can strike ✨groovy poses✨

(this also means he isn’t very plush)

but YEA, i made him outta old jeans

[arinmoss]

Ferris (he/him)

[stevens-pastrami-sandwich]

screenshot redraw YIPPEE 🐁🐁

We NEEDED to see more of the monkey sidekick having duo 💔 It's okay though, im not angry about this. *my nails dig into my fists*

[lambentumbra]

height chart for my main ocs ‒ i still need to draw their actual clothes, but i think this is worth sharing at this point

left to right: olivandre (oli) (they/them) cameron (they/any) jules (he/him)

[hehe-hoho-ohno]

Happy WIP Wednesday! Spoilers for chapter 7 of Misfits under the cut.

That was fine. Ingo could do what he wanted. Emmet skived off patrol all the time, it was fine.

----

Ingo hadn’t come to patrol. Emmet had waited for him. He’d waited for ages and then decided to start on his own. He’d ended up doing the entire thing by himself and Ingo never showed up.

It was just uncharacteristic of him, that was all.

(It wasn’t like Emmet had been looking forward to it or anything. It wasn’t like he’d waited for hours like an abandoned puppy. If he’d known Ingo wasn’t going to show up he wouldn’t have wasted his time.)

(It was his own fault for getting his hopes up.)

He returned to the barracks and froze in the open doorway.

It looked like a war zone.

A few of the lockers were blown open, doors swinging in their hinges. One of the benches was tipped over. The door to the office was open as well, the drawers were ransacked and all the papers that had been neatly piled on the desk were strewn on the floor. The garbage bin had also been knocked over. His spiders were agitated and crawling along the walls and ceiling.

“…Hello?” He called and it echoed back. “…Ingo?”

A few spiders chirped in response but there wasn’t a word from Ingo. A cold feeling settled like a stone in his stomach. He called again. If Ingo wasn’t here then…

He hesitantly stepped forwards into the ruined barracks.

Something crunched under his foot and he hastily stepped back. He’d crushed something into hard red and white shards. A candy cane? Only a small part of one, judging by how little there was on the floor.

How had this happened? Emmet always locked the entrance. He was even doing it right now, closing the door and locking it behind him out of sheer habit.

(Ingo had a key. Emmet had given it to him.)

Gear Barracks had always been a safe place for Emmet. The only safe place. When Emmet returned home it always felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, like he could finally relax. Here, he had been untouchable.

That feeling was gone now. He didn’t think he would be getting it back.

(Ingo hadn’t shown up for patrol.)

It was a shitty, barren, uniform place, but it had been Emmet’s. And someone had broken in and torn it up.

(Was it really breaking in if Emmet had invited him inside?)

No! Emmet shook himself. He shouldn’t make assumptions when he didn’t have all the facts. There was no proof that had happened. Ingo wouldn’t…

(Emmet was still an easily suckered fool who had learnt nothing. Ingo had betrayed him and Emmet had made it so easy.)

Ingo was his friend. He trusted Ingo. Ingo was shy, earnest, and sweet. He said things like, “lonely together” and he meant it, Emmet knew he did!

(Or maybe Emmet wasn’t as good at spotting liars as he thought he was.)

A clicking whistle snapped him out of his spiralling thoughts. Emmet dropped to his knees and reached towards his fuzzy babies. “Is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt?”

Emmet was appalled by his own behaviour, getting wrapped up in his own doubts when his focus should have been on the creatures under his care. Poor little things, they had needed to endure whatever had happened without Emmet there to protect them.

They chirped and squeaked and scuttled away from him, towards a locker all the spiders were converging on. Dread crawled up this throat. He rose to his feet and followed them.

The door was cold when he laid a hand on it. “…Here?”

They squeaked and moved back, a fluffy multicoloured halo surrounding the locker. The dread only worsened.

It was locked.

He blinked. He never locked this one. He never locked any of the spider lockers out of fear he might trap them in there. Hesitantly, he filled in the default code and hoped that was correct. Emmet had never changed any of them, but he clearly wasn’t the only person who would have had the opportunity to do so.

He hesitantly tried the handle, and it swung open.

A body fell out.

[justarandomlambblog]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 [END]

The second shackle comes off

Get adopted and feel loved, mangey cat

We're gonna pretend I didn't give Heket the wrong shaped crown aight? aught 👍

(explanation beneath the cut bc I didn't want dialogue)

The harvest comes. Narinder can't help but notice how sad the wheat fields are, the wheat growing small and patchy at best. He remembers how Heket would make the wheat fields flourish just by walking between the stalks. The memory of the fields she would create early in their godhood makes him feel somber, realizing now what the cost of being a godless land is; their entire lives are left to the limitations of the earth, without any god to help them thrive. These people are making the best of what they have, and they're happy even though it's not a lot.

Narinder notices some are harvesting wheat while others till the earth once it's been harvested, and the old dog explains that once this wheat is harvested they plant "winter wheat", which can be harvested in the spring before they plant their summer wheat. They till and fertilize the earth before planting the winter wheat, of course. Narinder tries his hand at harvesting the wheat, and the old dog begins to teach him how to use the sickle. Time passes.

Over the late summer, autumn and winter, Narinder learns how to live this provincial, modest life. He tills the fields with the other villagers, he sees feral beasts for the first time in over a thousand years, learns to collect eggs from said feral beasts, learns how and decides he doesn't like to collect milk (the godless lands have more feral beasts than the Lands of the Old Faith ever did), has finally regained enough strength to draw water from the village well without help, learns to bake bread (with great amounts of help so as to not waste the precious resources with the inevitable first fifty failures), and attends his first lantern festival. All in all, this marks his approach to his second year here, most of his first year spent indoors recovering. (His fur is also getting long, something something new me new hair something (totally not an excuse for me to draw hair))

At his first lantern festival, Narinder decides to partake in what is usually a coming of age tradition for the village; he gets an ear piercing, choosing a symbol that will essentially act as his written name. He chooses a symbol that is a crescent moon inside of a sun, thinking of Aym and Baal when he sees it. (Note: He is not scared/nervous about the ear piercing, he isn't bothered by a literal pinprick of pain, but the fact that someone he barely knows is this close with a needle is what worries him)

Later on, days or even weeks later, the old dog gives him a chain with their individual symbols on it, with a loose chain hanging from the other side of Narinder's sun-and-moon charm. Narinder questions this and the old dog explains the symbolism behind the charms; two charms with a chain extending between them indicates marriage/partnership, and two charms with another charm on the chain between them indicates that couple's child/children. The one Narinder has is the latter, with the second parent's charm missing, indicating that the old dog views Narinder as his own son, now. It takes a moment, but Narinder realizes all at once that this is the old dog's way of extending an invitation to become family- and it's been so long since Narinder had a family... (And yes, the old dog is fully aware that this cat is thousands of years old (Narinder was very vocal about this in the first weeks before he eventually stopped bringing it up), but that won't stop him from deciding he's gonna be this abandoned, fallen god's new family)

Narinder goes to sleep, and finds that despite everything- despite how simple and quaint and, frankly, not easy life in this little godless village is, he's happy. He has none of the luxuries that he had as a Bishop; no worship, no reverence, no servants, no silks or satins or veils or anything of the sort. Here he's just... one of the people. Just another face in the crowd. And he's happy. Happier than he's been in a long time. Unfortunately for Narinder, he is failing to realize that this godless village is a little less godless every day he's there. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.

The village wakes up to their fields flourishing like they never have before. The wheat is taller than the tallest villager, and no one is really sure what to do about this, but there is excitement throughout the village. Narinder thinks of Heket again, reminded once more how she would make the fields come alive. The shackle on his left hand opens up before dispersing into light, and he remembers the way she looked at him in the days leading up to his imprisonment, the quiet and somber warnings she would give him. He takes a moment to grieve before turning his attention back to the present, back to the family he's creating now.

[freckledsokka]

wip wednesday

a wee snippet of the self-indulgent tense-fuckery zukka fic i'm working on that no one asked for! most of this fic is sokka (ghost sokka? spirit sokka? who knows) waxing poetic about zuko grieving him, but i wrote this scene with korra for a touch of levity (while still being a little angsty).

note: this is NOT a reader fic. do not let the use of "you" fool you. this is fully from sokka's pov as if he's narrating this to zuko.

"You remind me of him," you tell the Avatar, something wistful tugging at the corner of your mouth, reaching to the creases of your eyes. Korra looks almost bashful, or maybe just flattered. "I get that a lot," she says quietly, as if it's a sore subject but she doesn't want to offend you by mentioning it. You smile at her, warm and reassuring. "I don't mean Aang." "Oh." She sounds surprised, which quickly gives way to embarrassed when you offer her an encouraging smirk to help the thought along. "Oh," she says again, nearly in a different octave. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I should have realized that's — of course, that's who you meant." She laughs nervously, waving her hand vaguely at herself. "Southern Water Tribe, duh." "It's not just that," you tell her, and her nervous energy seems to settle a little at the calm, smooth tone of your voice. "You have the same tenacity, the same spirit. He would be proud to see the Avatar you've become."

Korra is quiet for a moment, either out of respect or simply a loss for words. Then she smiles, a little sheepishly but no less grateful to be honored in such a way. "Tenzin told me he — the Chief? — was with you and my father the night the Red Lotus tried to kidnap me." She looks away, guilt seeping into the set of her shoulders, the way she wraps her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry, I — Did he —?" She glances back, eyes bright, pleading for some kind of forgiveness she doesn't need to be given. "Was it my fault?"

"Korra," you say slowly, frowning, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "What did Tenzin tell you? The Red Lotus had nothing to do with Sokka's passing."

Her eyes go wide. "Really? But he made it sound like — I mean, my dad became Head Chieftain not long after that, I thought —"

You can't help the chuckle low in the back of your throat, a rumble of distant thunder, warm as a summer storm. "No, Korra. Sokka never was particularly suited to be Chief. He felt it was time to pass it on, is all. That, and he felt he could do more good behind the scenes, or through his work in Republic City. But, more often than not, he was with me. Those years were some of our best." 

Korra lets out a trill of nerves, huffing in relief. "Thank the Spirits." A beat, the haunted look of someone who is technically thousands of years old yielding to the vulnerability of someone barely out of her teens carrying the weight of the Spirit and human worlds on her shoulders, knowing she is the reason your — our — friend is gone. This is the cycle we were all prepared for, and yet — "Is that why I barely remember him? Didn't he ever visit Katara at the compound? Why didn't he ever say hello?"

"I wish I could tell you, Korra, but he never gave me his reasons." A wry smile. "I'm sorry if I kept him from you."

Korra twists her mouth, setting her jaw defiantly. "Lord Zuko, if I may —" She isn't really asking permission and you know this, but you nod anyway. "That's bullshit, and you know it. He was your husband. Don't tell me you didn't know just because he didn't tell you."

Your mouth twitches knowingly, even as your expression remains impressively neutral. "I had my suspicions, of course."

"Which were?" Korra presses.

If she weren't the Avatar, I suspect you would've said something along the lines of None of your damn business or Nothing to concern yourself about. Being the Avatar still has its perks in dragging honesty out of you, it seems. Still, you manage to make it a whole production, sighing like it physically pains you to admit it. 

"He wanted to wait until you'd mastered all four elements before he would teach you" — an exaggerated eyeroll, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose — "the 'fifth element.'"

Korra's brow furrows. She blinks like she's waiting for a punchline. "The — what? There is no fifth element, unless you count energy, but —"

"I know," you agree, exhausted. "I know."

"Then what?" Korra demands, sounding as flabbergasted as she looks.

You take a deep breath, wearily replying, "Swordbending."

Korra is frozen for a moment, maybe in shock, maybe in disbelief. Then she bursts out laughing, bright and cool as snow crunching underfoot, until it dawns on her that maybe you weren't actually joking. "Wait, really?" she asks incredulously. "He actually wanted to — to teach me? Why didn't he just team up with Katara? Spirits, it would've been so much fun to have a swordmaster around."

"You told me you have to learn the elements in order, Zuko," you say in a poor imitation of my voice. It's been so long, you've almost forgotten it. "He didn't want to influence your bending, or distract you from your role as Avatar, or so I assume."

Korra huffs. "Sounds an awful lot like he did tell you things, then," she mutters indignantly.

You shrug. "Not in so many words. He said a lot without ever saying it." That wistful slant of your mouth softens into something closer to melancholy. "When you're with someone as long as I was with Sokka, you learn to read between the lines. We had our own language, in a way."

"But if you suspected, why didn't you say anything? Why not encourage him?"

There's a sadness in your smile, an ache in your eyes. "Because, young Avatar," you say gently, "you always think you'll have more time."

[soulhymn]

Hero and Alex :3

Hello there! Today I present you my simple sketches of Herobrine and Alex (•ω•) Recently, I decided to alter their designs a little and I'm happy with results especially with Herobrine

ฅ'ω'ฅ

I will colour and finish it probably in winter break because my half yearly exams are starting from Monday and I'm going insane <33

Also yes I ship these two because I can, do what you can, I don't give a flying bat if you hate HeroAlex ʕ•ε•ʔ

And if you love HeroAlex or Stalex then I luv you bbg

Also Steve and Herobrine are the same person so technically my ship is also Stalex ♡(`ω`)♡

See ya <333

[count-geiger]

big (bill) things brewing

[deepsea-dot-query]

Chip Revvington cardboard doll thing i'm working on

some WIP shots under the cut

The quality of these photos is whack bc i took them for myself and and adding them mostly as a reference for me n me alone lolol

[crassinova]

My lucky boy

[rotisseries]

it's still wednesday where I'm at if your clock is 30 minutes off so here's my wip wednesday post for my day 1 @bylerween2023 fic!! ghosts my beloved

[levinbolts]

[lokh]

every single time: oh ill just make it a quick colored sketch i got all this other stuff i wanna draw =)

3 hours later:

[ying-dawdles]

king of hell lloyd ehehehe-

(outfit based off that skin from that unknown knights collab a while back)

EDIT: Here's the finished version! :)

[onionstree]

MY WIFE

THEY'RE SOOOOOOOOOOOOO RAHHHHHHHHHHH