After Months Of Research And Development And Market Testing And Perfecting The First Item I Feel Confident

“My body, my choice” only makes sense when someone else’s life isn’t at stake.

Surprise! I had my first try at animation! It's a bit jerky and choppy because I have no idea what I'm doing, and every frame was drawn individually.

making chinese lantern - bunny lantern, tiger lantern, flower lantern by 香香手工教程

No harm to any religion. It’s just a lamp ads by an Australian company. However, it’s funny!

You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

please reblog for the sample size as I am deciding what my priority should be. thank u

Different types of kimono. 

Oh? *perks in interest* Quinlan/Hevy? Is this a Dominos lives fic? Whose the time traveler? I already have so many questions lol

“Of all the places,” Fives complains. “It couldn’t have been Geonosis or one of the fronts or even Coruscant. Of course we’re getting stuffed out of the way on some moon somewhere.”

Hevy rolls his eyes, checking his pack one more time and then closing the pouches. There's something caught between anxiety and anticipation curled in his stomach, and a heavy thread of resignation as well, because he’s not any happier to be heading for the Rishi moon base than Fives is, but—

But at least they graduated. At least they're moving on, and not stuck on sanitation for the rest of the war, or decommissioned. At least they're doing something.

“What, did you think we were going to get assigned to General Windu or something?” Droidbait asks, bemused, and drops from his bunk. “We’re not ARCs.”

“Not yet,” Echo says, daring him to contradict that. When Droidbait just raises his hands in silent surrender, Echo snorts, and says, “Experience is a good idea before we go for the ARC program. The regulations about teams applying—”

Cutup groans and throws a sock at him. “We all want to be ARCs, and we all know the regulations. Shut your mouth already.”

Given the way Echo is eyeing the distance between Cutup’s bunk and the floor, the odds that he’s about to throw himself across the space and wrestle Cutup down are good, so Hevy pitches his voice to carry and says, “An hour at most ‘til we need to assemble, so can it and move faster.”

Cutup huffs, and Echo glares, but before either of them can say anything there's a quiet chuckle. Hevy jerks, wrenching around to find a familiar figure in the doorway, tall and slim and graceful.

“General Ti!” he says, startled, and Droidbait almost falls out of his bunk as the rest of Domino scrambles to come to attention.

General Ti smiles at them, folding her hands in front of her. “Domino Squad,” she says kindly. “Congratulations again on passing your tests. It was most impressive.”

Hevy won't admit to the seed of something that goes hot and liquid in his chest, hearing one of the High Generals say that. “Thank you, sir,” he says. “Is something wrong, sir?” Because she can't have come all this way to congratulate them, even if she’s kind; there are hundreds of thousands of clones she oversees, not even accounting for her duties as a Jedi.

For a moment, General Ti weighs that. “Not wrong,” she allows. “But I have a request to make of the five of you.”

Hevy blinks, glancing over at Cutup, but he looks equally surprised. Echo is frowning a little, and Droidbait is opening his mouth, but Fives beats him to the question.

“A request?” he asks, stepping forward. “For us?”

That edge of incredulity should be insulting, but…it’s really just accurate. Even if Domino passed their tests, they're still rookies. Rancor Battalion is stationed on Kamino, and Colt is never far from General Ti’s side; if she wants something, she can just ask him. Hevy's proud of them, and what they managed, but they're not exactly Kamino’s best. Not by a long shot.

Ti just smiles, though. “Yes,” she confirms, like it’s ridiculous to think that she wouldn’t ask five rookies for a favor. Stepping into the room, she glances around, then says, “I am sorry to leave it to such short notice, but a Jedi I am well-acquainted with requested I assign him a squad of troopers ready to ship out immediately, and I believe Domino would be a good fit.”

Droidbait blinks and closes his mouth.

“A Jedi?” Hevy asks, not quite able to believe it. There are so many clones, and so few Jedi; the odds of serving directly under a general before they’ve even made ARC trooper is almost ridiculous, and yet General Ti looks perfectly serious.

“A Jedi,” Ti confirms, and pauses, expression shifting to something that’s touched with concern for a moment before it clears. “He is a friend, and an…unconventional Jedi, but given Domino’s ability to overcome obstacles, I had thought to introduce you.” Her smile flickers into something warm as she looks them over, and she says, “It is not an order, of course. Should you wish to continue on to your assignment without change, that is perfectly understandable. But I believe you would be well suited.”

Hevy can't quite find anything to say. It seems too good to be true, like everything he’s ever fantasized about when he’s thought about ridiculous scenarios and winning medals right out of training and all the other stupid bantha shit trainees are supposed to dream about, but—

Actually achieving it is something else entirely.