For the first time I have something to fight for.
Satine Kryze for Star Wars: Women of the Galaxy by Amy Ratcliffe 🥀✨
So happy I got to draw her and some other amazing characters in the book, this project was an absolute joy to be a part of. Thank you @chroniclebooks and @starwars!
So I’m not doing nano this year but my writing group’s doing weekly prompt challenges so here’s mine for the first one. Obikin. 1500 words. SW/Buffy (kinda) fusion AU.
Prompt: “Do you guys hear the demonic frat-chanting outside too?”
The blackout curtains are drawn in their bedroom, as usual, but Anakin doesn’t need to see the sky to know that it’s starting to lighten with the coming dawn by the time Obi-Wan climbs into bed next to him.
He groans, because this means he literally hasn’t slept at all tonight. Outside, the cause of his sleeplessness drones on: a group of drunk frat boys chanting in Latin.
“You’re still awake?” Obi-Wan asks, voice hushed.
Anakin barely waits for him to settle in before he turns over and drapes his arm across his chest and buries his nose in the crook of his shoulder. Obi-Wan’s perpetually colder body temperature doesn’t even phase him any more. “Yes, I am,” he moans pitifully and pouts against Obi-Wan’s skin. “Don’t you hear the demonic frat-chanting outside too?”
We will leave Orto-Plutonia under the watchful eyes of the Talz from this day forth and recognize your sovereignty as a free and equal people.
I used to hate using ‘love’ liberally. I felt it was a sacred word only to be used in very special occasions. Now that I’m older, I’ve come to the realization that love should be shared and felt and received with reckless abandon. Love these characters, love this food, love things in the moment, even if they may seem tiny and insignificant to others. I think it makes life a little more soft around the edges.
Love is not a finite resource.
Been a while since I’ve posted artwork, here’s one I’ve been picking at lately, loved those underwater episodes.
Does anyone know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
On November 10th 1975 the 729 foot long ore carrier Edmond Fitzgerald went down in a hurricane like storm that had 80 mph winds and 25 foot waves with rouge waves as high as 35 feet. Battered by the storm the Fitzgerald was trying to reach the safety of Whitefish Bay.
The last message from the Fitzgerald was from the captain who radioed, “We are holding our own.” Minutes later the Fitzgerald vanished from radar. No distress call was given. She was only 17 miles from Whitefish Bay. Now she lies 530 feet down at the bottom of Lake Superior along with her crew of 29.
Enjoy this wonderfully touching story song, The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald, by Gordon Lightfoot (1976)
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumme
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early.
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
wrennette 