By Far The Best Part Of Grocery Shopping Is The Little Babies. I Was Carefully Selecting Mushrooms When

Can I ask how you do rendering so well? I’ve been trying for a while and I’ve only been able to figure out basic shading.

firstly, Thank you!

Secondly, heres a fun behind the scenes of my art! I start with choosing a consistent environmental light. This is something to help the character seem more grounded in the scene. This can be as simple as making a new layer and flooding it a light colour to set everything in the same scene.

Next is figuring out where the lighting is coming from, and making the shadows and THEN where the light actually hits as a part of the shadow/multiply layer. I make an additional layer for overlay for the brightest highlights!

the rest is honestly just studying how light lands on different objects! like learning the planes of the face is super important and im still learning how it works!

This is a wonderful reference I use a lot, as well as honestly??? Just experimenting and practising! learning about things like different kinds of shadows and contouring is always good.

Hope this helps!

Fox has caf rants after every Galatic Senate meeting. His favorite senators and (mostly) him talk (rant) about how much they hate Palpatine. But it’s mainly just Fox downing 16 cups of caf while outlining even detail about what makes Palpatine the worst person to ever exist in the galaxy while the senators nod and agree. By the end, everyone’s convinced he’s going to leave the room and go shoot Palpatine on the spot, and to be honest, none of them would stop him. They might even come to watch the show

Boba Fett is a better Bounty Hunter than you.

Nice try, Boba. Yer gonna have to do better than that.

Details about the tv show au:

- the clones are actors and some of them have been in the military in the past, but not all of them

- the jedi are able to use the force out of the show. It’s just. Their thing. They actually have powers in real life.

- the bloopers/gag reel are FULL of scenes where shaak ti trips on her cloak and nearly falls down

- Obi-Wan actually loses his cloaks all the time. The costume department secretly hates him because they have to keep making new cloaks. Where are they even DISAPPEARING to??

- the answer is: to Cody’s dressing room’s closet. He picks them up and hides them there. It started as a one-time prank but now he literally can’t stop. It’s too funny. Once Rex opened a the closet’s door and was immediately covered in a pile of brown fabric

- the bloopers also feature a bunch of clones wearing each one of said cloaks and saying “hello there” to the camera

- Anakin constantly arrives to table readings 30 minutes late with starbucks

- there is one video recorded with anakin’s phone showing Obi-Wan tiredly saying “don’t fuck up with the props. It’s uncivilized”

- there is also a video of Shaak Ti and Asajj Ventress playing truth or dare, and Shaak Ti dares Ventress to saw yoda’s cane so that he’ll fall on his face if he puts his weight on it

- she gladly does

- which gets the entire cast to witness Yoda cursing loudly for a full minute. Sadly, nobody recorded it

It was a ship wide rule to never interrupt human’s movie night. It was a quiet and safe group activity to strengthen their pack bond, and it was normally a movie that other species couldn’t understand. I knew this rule, but curiosity got the better of me.

After watching the entire movie with the humans, I went to the ship’s biologist. He allowed me inside.

“What troubles you Cannan?” Ghro asked.

“I joined the humans’ movie night. I had always heard their movies were more, fantastical. The feats were certainly impossible, but there appeared to be no discernible story. The humans seemed very intense while watching, so I know I must be missing context.”

Ghro nodded. “Many human movies require specific context to understand. Tell me, what is the name of the movie and I will research it for you.”

“They called it Olympic.”

Ghro paused. “Cannan, this is very important, did they call it only by Olympic or was there something else?”

“The Olympic maybe. Does that matter?” I asked.

Ghro nodded, and pressed a button to page a medic.

“You’re scaring me,” I said, glancing instinctively towards an exit.

“What you saw was not a fictional movie. You were watching The Olympics, a quadrennial competition of human athletes all attempting to best previous human limits.”

I laughed. “No, of course not. One human ran 100 minsecs in 8.97 seconds. You can’t possibly expect me to be so foolish as to believe you.”

Ghro said nothing. I frowned.

“This isn’t funny Ghro.”

“I’m not joking.”

I stood up, aggravated. “I know humans are absurd but they aren’t super beings. They have limits. Humans are meant for land and climbing, so the female who swam faster than a frullo is not real.”

Ghro said nothing again. I shook my head.

“Take it back! It’s not real! Humans cannot lift as much as a Helvsparr! Four arms are stronger than two!”

Ghro glanced at the page indicator. He wouldn’t tell me the truth. I felt anxiety rise. I grabbed my arms.

“Humans aren’t capable of that. They just aren’t. Their bodies can’t handle it.” I insisted.

“Those humans in the Olympics train their entire lives to reach these limits and push past them. You are not the first to fail to understand how their body allows this. Many scientists have been retired because their minds could not grasp the lunacy of human biostats.”

I had to know. I had to know. I turned and ran.

-

I knew Cannan was not prepared for the truth. Unfortunately his species, Faetatia, can identify lies with frightening accuracy. I had no choice but to give him the truth.

He could not handle the truth, and so his instinct to run kicked in. I got up and followed him, keeping a safe distance. I also alerted the medics to find us in the halls.

I found Cannan gripping a human, Mario, and screeching for the truth. Mario looked concerned and unsure.

Medics came and used a gas to render Cannan unconscious and carted him away. He would undergo testing to be sure his mental functions were still well and then reassigned to a ship without humans.

“Ghro, what happened?” Mario asked.

“Cannan watched the Olympics and could not believe that humans are capable of such things.”

“Oh. You told him those were extreme cases right? Not every human is like that?” Mario asked.

“I could not, because every human has the potential. That thought frightens many, too many.”

“I guess the Olympics are gonna be banned on ship wide movie nights then, huh?” Mario asked.

“I’m not sure. They do just as good a job of pacifying humans as they do frightening other species, so it is the Captains call.”

sometimes family is you, the cute kid you met on the flight, and his mysterious dad

The last thing Boba expected, was to meet an utterly adorable child on the flight home, and then get mistaken for the child's buir and the riduur of the child's actual buir.

Rating: G

Pairings: Boba Fett & Grogu; Din Djarin/Boba Fett; brief Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: reference to past near-fatal jellyfish stings

Prompts: @bobadinweek 2021 day 4 | family & this

“Give us a call when you land, ok?”

Boba rolled his eyes exasperatedly at the third reminder. “Yes, O’buir.”

Obi-Wan smiled fondly at his child’s antics through the screen. “Sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”

“Yes, O’buir,” Boba sighed theatrically. “I’m 25. I can make my way home from the airport.”

But he couldn’t help the instinctive face he made when Jango appeared in the frame only to drape his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and hook his chin over the other’s shoulder to kiss his cheek.

“Buir!” he said exasperatedly. “Stop doing that every time I call home, for Force’s sake. You can be sappy when I’m not there!”

Jango merely smirked at him while Obi-Wan hid a laugh behind his palm.

Oh Boba just knew his buir was doing it on purpose to get a rise outta him! He scowled at the pair, not that it did anything to stop them. No, they had been that way for 15 standard years already, and would be that way till they joined the ka’ra.

(And he wouldn’t have them any other way. He only hoped that he would one day find a riduur who would look at him the way his buire looked at each other.)

The hall speaker came alive with a chime, interrupting any further conversation.

“That must be your boarding call,” commented Obi-Wan. “Have a safe flight, dear. Love you.”

“Safe flight, Bob’ika. We’ll see you when you get home,” added Jango.

“Mm, yeah. Love you, buire.” Boba waved back at them before ending the call.

Sighing, he slid the datapad into his jacket and shouldered his carry-on before pulling on his buy’ce again. At the boarding announcement of the rows including his, he joined the others making their way onto the aircraft.

“Welcome aboard, sir,” greeted the Togrutan flight attendant, glancing over Boba’s documents. “We wish you a pleasant flight.”

Boba tipped his head briefly in acknowledgement. Ahead of him, the mass of people slowly inched their way to their seats. Lowering the audio input of his buy’ce to reduce the audible hum of the craft, he joined them, squeezing his way past people until he arrived at his row.

More preoccupied with getting his carry-on into the overhead cabin space, he did not fully register the presence of his row-mates until a cheerful chirp caught his attention.

“Oh,” he breathed out, sliding into his seat which was thankfully an aisle one. “And who might you be, ad’ika?”

Big brown eyes stared back at him curiously from an impossibly tiny body, floppy green ears twitching ever so slightly. The kid was swaddled in thick robe-like clothing and had a child’s seat belt fastened neatly over its body where it sat in the center seat. Tipping its head, the child cooed at Boba.

“His name is Grogu.”

Boba looked up at the person sitting by the window and his breath caught at the sight of the unpainted pure beskar buy’ce.

The mando was clad in an unassuming, loose-fitting outfit of a shirt, jacket and jeans. But Boba had grown up around ori'ramikade, his buir being one himself, and had seen them in all sorts of attire.

He knew an experienced combatant when he saw one.

(Not to mention beskar was still incredibly rare. Not even the ramikade owned pure pieces of beskar’gam. So for the mando to be wearing the pure unpainted metal and as their buy’ce no less, they had to be talented enough to still keep it even with all the aruetiise who would gladly slaughter them for it.)

“I see,” he murmured. Straightening up slightly, he offered his forearm. “Boba Fett. Clan Fett, House Mereel. He/him.”

The mando clasped Boba’s arm, a silent strength in their grip. “Mando. He/him,” he replied, offering no more information.

Boba merely nodded as they let go. It wasn’t the first time he’d met a traditionalist.

(And it elevated his opinion of the man’s skill even higher. Though it did also raise the question of why he had given out his ad’s name. Perhaps the child was not used to being addressed otherwise.)

“Well met, Mando.”

The child squeaked, waving his clawed hands at Boba. He laughed softly at the adorable cry for attention.

“Well met, Grogu,” he said seriously, gently grasping one tiny hand.

As the pre-flight announcements began, the mando distracted the child with a shiny silver ball. The kid was happy enough to play with the item, rolling it back and forth between his hands.

Meanwhile Boba pulled out his own datapad and busied himself with a few interesting research papers he’d not had time to read while juggling his semester’s course load. The 9-hour flight would give him more than enough time to make a sizable dent in his reading list.

He connected his buy’ce to the in-flight entertainment system easily enough, and was soon absorbed in his reading, strains of warbat trance playing over his internal comms.

Engrossed as he was, he barely registered the passing of time until a soft insistent patting of his thigh caught his attention. He looked down from his datapad to find the kid tapping the outside of his leg, wide eyes fixed on his buy’ce.

“What is it, ad’ika?” he asked quietly, switching off his music.

Grogu cooed at him and raised his arms up. Boba glanced over at the mando, but the man seemed unaware of his ad’s antics. The silver buy’ce gave no hint of what could be happening beneath, though Boba figured there was a good chance the man was fast asleep.

Truthfully it was highly unlikely that the mando would be willing to let his guard down enough to fall asleep on public transport, especially around so many strangers and with an ad to protect. But it was even more unlikely that he would let his ad interact so unreservedly with an unknown, even a fellow mando’ad, if he was aware of such interaction taking place.

At Boba’s prolonged inaction, the child grew more and more fussy, his whines getting louder as he smacked his hand forcefully against Boba’s leg.

Making his choice, Boba stowed away his datapad and unbuckled the kid’s seat belt, carefully lifting the child and settling him on his lap.

“Shhh, ad’ika,” he whispered, gently stroking one ear. “Your buir is sleeping.”

Grogu easily settled down, having gotten what he wanted. Boba wrapped a protective arm around the tiny body, cradling the kid close as he had his fill exploring Boba’s clothing, fiddling with the many zippers, pockets and buttons.

Perhaps it was the “buir instinct” that was often joked about by the mando’ade, but Boba found himself unconsciously smiling as Grogu played with the folds of his clothes, unbothered by the number of times he had to carefully disentangle the kid’s claws when they caught on the fabric.

“Patoo!” Grogu exclaimed softly. He lifted his hands up, straining towards Boba’s face.

Boba bent forward to let Grogu skitter his hands over the buy’ce’s cool surface, heedless of the strain in his neck at the awkward position. After a few gentle pats Grogu frowned, ears dipping down, then tapped the side of the buy’ce insistently.

“Do you want it off?” Boba asked curiously.

Grogu’s ears perked up. “Patoo!”

He tapped the buy’ce once more.

Sneaking a look over at the mando to make sure he hadn’t woken, Boba lowered the tray-table and helped Grogu onto it, making sure he supported the table with his legs. The child was incredibly light, but he’d rather not risk breaking the tray and/or endangering the kid either way.

Grogu watched him eagerly from his perch, and Boba huffed a laugh before pulling off his buy’ce and placing it on the kid’s empty seat.

“Patoo?” the kid whined, ears drooping as he reached for Boba.

“It’s ok, ad’ika,” Boba murmured, bending slightly to let Grogu run his hands over the scars on his face. “It’s ok, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The child looked at him sadly, tipping his head in silent question.

“It was an accident,” Boba replied, running a finger across the kid’s ear. “My buire and I were freediving in the ocean near our house one evening a year ago. We didn’t see them, but I ended up swimming into a couple of jellyfish.”

“My buire were terrified,” he added quietly. “I nearly died that day.”

Grogu shuffled closer to hug Boba. Running his hand down the kid’s back, for a brief moment, Boba could’ve sworn he felt an almost familiar surge of warmth engulf him.

“Hello sir, is there any food or drink option you would like to have?”

Tensing, Boba pulled away and turned to the flight attendant, an arm wrapped protectively around Grogu. He relaxed slightly when the Twi’lek female smiled down at the child and greeted him softly.

“Do you have any broth for the kid?” he asked when Grogu turned pleading eyes on him.

The attendant briefly consulted her datapad. “Yes, we do have bone broth suitable for your child. Would you like it in a toddler-friendly cup?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

The attendant handed over the cup. “Anything for you or your partner, sir?”

Boba choked, quickly disguising it with a cough as the Twi’lek looked at him in concern. “Ah, no. We’re good, thank you.”

As the attendant moved away, Boba could still feel the heat that had rushed to his ears and the back of his neck at the mistaken assumption. Grogu squeaked at him, patting at his chest.

“She thinks your buir is my riduur and you’re my ad,” he told the kid incredulously.

Grogu simply tipped his head and cooed.

“Ok, fair enough, I can see why she might think you’re my ad. But your buir's riduur? I could be a vod.”

The kid merely squirmed forward, attention fixed on the cup Boba held rather than what he was saying. Sighing, Boba helped the child off the tray-table and onto his thighs before handing the cup over. Grogu chirped happily and snuggled into Boba’s stomach, clutching his prize triumphantly.

Boba watched him absently, mind drifting back to the attendant’s words.

He’d never thought about having an ad of his own before, not seriously at least. But as Grogu sipped at the broth, perfectly content to sit on a stranger’s lap, he could slowly paint a picture of a future for himself - one with a tiny green child and an intriguing man with a pure beskar buy’ce.

He shook his head to get rid of the fanciful idea. “Di’kut,” he cursed under his breath. “I really need to get out more.”

A thump of the cup against his chest had him firmly back in reality.

He took the offending item. “Done, Gro’ika?”

Grogu nodded seriously at him. Then to his amusement, a large yawn escaped the tiny body, almost causing the kid to topple over if not for Boba.

“Looks like it’s nap time for someone.”

Grogu yawned once more in agreement. Burrowing himself back in Boba’s arms, he blinked tiredly a few times, and was soon out like a light. Boba tucked the folds of his jacket around the kid and leaned back against the headrest.

It really wasn’t so bad - taking care of an adiik.

The dim light and low drone of the aircraft quickly had Boba feeling the exhaustion of the day. And within minutes, he too unintentionally slipped into sleep.

“Hey,” a low voice called as someone shook his arm. “We’re landing soon.”

Boba’s eyes snapped open, body tense, only to meet the dark T-visor of the mando. A surge of discomfort coursed through him as his bare face was reflected back at him.

Then he remembered the child.

“I-” he spluttered, looking down at the kid who was still fast asleep in his arms. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” the mando cut him off, the smooth metal of his buy’ce giving no hint of true emotion. “Let him sleep. He’s had trouble doing so the last few days.”

Boba couldn’t help the flush that crept up his neck. Here he was bare-faced (the ugly scars criss-crossing his visage exposed) and cuddling a traditionalist’s child without their express permission, and somehow he was still alive and unharmed.

It was a kriffing miracle. His buir would’ve killed others for less.

Really, the only saving grace of the situation was that his aliit was not there to make fun of his massive misstep, for which he sent a quick thanks to the ka’ra.

Then he hastily grabbed his buy’ce off the seat between them and shoved it on. And just in time too, because the flight attendants were making their landing rounds.

“Good morning sirs,” greeted the same flight attendant from before. “Could you please have your child seated with their seatbelt fastened? We will be landing soon.”

Boba’s face was on fire under his buy’ce. He was already in deep enough osik with the mando, and now the attendant’s misunderstanding was putting him in an even worse spot!

He opened his mouth to hastily correct the attendant when the mando spoke.

“We understand. Thank you.”

Boba’s jaw dropped. As the attendant went down the other rows, he numbly placed Grogu back in his seat and watched as the mando carefully fastened his kid’s seat belt.

Mando was definitely one of the strangest traditionalists he’d ever met.

“Sorry,” he finally spoke. “About the attendant, she-”

“I know. I was awake,” replied Mando. “Since Grogu started trying to get your attention.”

“Oh he was no trou- Wait. You were awake the whole time?”

Mando huffed a laugh, a warm sound that not even the vocoder could completely disguise.

“He’s fond of you. It’s… unusual,” the mando said slowly. “He generally doesn’t like others very much.”

“I see,” Boba replied faintly.

They remained in silence as the aircraft landed and everyone around them began to disembark. Boba stood as the mando unbuckled his and Grogu’s seat belts.

“Do you have a carry-on?” he asked, pulling out his own bag to sling over his shoulder.

“Elek,” said the mando. “Same compartment.”

Boba nodded and pulled out the only other bag as Mando picked up his child. When the other reached out to take the bag, Boba shook his head. “It’s fine, I can take it.”

“You have an ad,” he added when it seemed like the mando would argue.

That seemed enough to convince the mando, and the two began the long process of going through customs and collecting their luggage.

By the time they finally exited the arrival hall, Grogu was wide-awake and happily cooing at all the new sights and sounds, eagerly pointing things out to both the mando and Boba. They came to a halt right outside the taxi stand.

The mando handed the silver ball to Grogu, and the child quietened, content to play with the item.

“Vor entye, Boba Fett,” he finally said.

Boba immediately shook his head. “There is no debt between us. Children are the future.”

“This is the Way,” replied the mando quietly.

They stood in silence for a moment longer.

“Do you have a place to go?” Boba asked. “Because, you could come over for a while if you want. My buire love kids, and-”

Grogu startled as a taxi sped by, dropping the metal ball with an upset squeak, which then bounced onto the road.

“Grogu,” the mando began, when the child lifted his tiny hand and the ball zipped back into it.

Boba inhaled sharply. “A Force-user.”

Beside him, the mando went still, a predatorial calm that sent klaxon sirens ringing through Boba’s head.

“Udseii, Mando,” he said evenly, making sure to keep his posture calm and unthreatening. “I will not harm you or your ad.”

At his side, the edge of a blade threatened to slice into him. “You’re not the first nor the last to say that.”

“Haat, ijaa, haa'it!” Boba swore readily. “My buir and some of my vod are jetiise, Mando. I promise you, neither my aliit nor I will harm you or your ad.”

At that, the mando finally relaxed. For the first time, Boba could see the exhaustion that threatened to swallow the other whole, and he found himself instinctively reaching forward to steady the man.

“Your buir, could you- could you take me to them?” the mando asked. “I was told to find a Jedi. I- I can’t- The child, he’s not safe. There are people hunting him.”

Grogu whined, sensing his buir’s distress. Boba’s heart, already firmly in the kid’s grasp, ached as the mando tried to sooth the child.

“Yes,” he answered. “Yes, I can take you to him. You both will be safe with us.”

do you see this shit my liege

I'M DOING AN EXPERIMENT

To prove something to a friend, please

REBLOG IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

LIKE IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS DON’T BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

Thanks for the tag @chopper-base !

Uh-oh…..

No pressure tags!

@spicylasat @catawampuscorner @laelish @smhalltheurlsaretaken @tattycoram @padawansuggest

Quotev

Who Are Your Star Wars Parents?

Have you ever wondered who your parents would be if you where in the Star Wars galaxy? Well wonder no further! Now updated to include couple

I got tagged by @locitapurplepink! Thank you. I got Kanan and Hera as well, which not gonna lie, is very accurate.

Tagging but no pressure: @unstableskywalker, @zephyrmonkey, @kanerallels, @laughingphoenixleader, @accidental-spice, @sidesofmayo, @thirteenmyspacegirl and anyone else who wants to play!!!

cliché but classic trope: when the person who almost died wakes up in a hospital bed, looks around and sees the object of their affection sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to them because they haven’t moved in days.