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@bigdamnartist.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 1:22 AM

Well would you look at that, it's another #WIPWednesday and I only missed a... uh... a let's not talk about it number of weeks *cough*; so how bout a little, slightly buggy but not nearly as much as it was, test render fly over?

#Innervate #WIP #3DArtist #Blender #3DArt #VFX #ShortFilm #Cycles

@hillohbeanz.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 1:20 AM

#WIPWednesday #crossstitch a little more progress

A cross stitch project in progress, it sorta looks like a cat

@highermagic.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 1:18 AM

some werewolf soap I've been cooking up for #WIPWednesday 🥰

Soap wouldn't exactly call his lycanthropy a curse. Frankly, he's lived with it too long. Over half his life with his latest birthday rolling around; maybe he'll buy himself a cake for his twentieth anniversary.

Another successful year without mauling someone while you were in a blind rage! Congrats!

Like anyone with an incurable disease, he's learned to adapt. Refused to let himself slip into the attractive ennui of thinking he's little more than an animal in human skin, playing dress-up with his own body in the hopes that he can have something of a normal life.

His life isn't normal. Hell, his job isn't normal. His team isn't normal. Maybe that's why he gets on with them so well. They don't shy away from him, don't fidget or look uncomfortable when he lets a snarl slip through, never show fear when his eyes flash with a strange, golden sheen. Just another little Soap-quirk, when Soap shakes himself loose after coming inside from the rain. A fact of life they embrace when he huffs at them or relies more on his nose than his eyes when clearing a room or breaching a compound.

They trust him, when all's said and done, which makes it really fucking inconvenient when his shift starts. Soap hasn't met many other werewolves in his life - doesn't really like the idea of being clocked on sight, let alone approached. He has his pack, his family, and if Price or Ghost chose to expand the 141 he'd embrace them under his protection as well, but that acceptance does not extend to strangers.

His wolf's a territorial bastard.

So he has precious little frame of reference. Werewolves are still staunchly in the 'made up legends' part of a human's day-to-day life. There's no book he can read or site he can browse with a tutorial on how to live as a wolf. No 'What to expect when you're first shifting' or 'Top 10 Tricks to Keep Your Fangs Out of Your Friends'.

@jenni41arts.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 1:09 AM

#WIPWednesday I wish I had more time to draw butI am working on something. #sk8theinfinity #langahasegawa

A coloured pencil drawing of Langa from the anime Sk8 the Infinity wearing Buffalo plaid.

@botfly.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 1:05 AM

✋ #WIPWednesday @btsmbfest.bsky.social

Violet text on beige background. The text reads: His lips touch the skin just below [redacted]'s left earlobe, trailing little kisses down his neck — [redacted] moans — to the junction before the collarbone.

@hirokom.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 1:01 AM

週末はレジ袋で帽子編むのに忙しかったのでほとんど進んでません。。。
Knitting right front not much progress.
#WIPWednesday

@songbirdsparrow.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 12:46 AM

started digging through some extremely old wips and found this beiguang short from around 1.2. turns out it just needs editing so here you can have this for #wipwednesday

“It was still your entire life’s work. I mean, if I had to sacrifice the Crux...I’d do it. I could get a new ship, sure, even give it the same name. But it wouldn’t be the same, it wouldn’t be the Crux. I’d always miss the old one. You know I’ve been at the helm so long the wheel is worn down where I like to rest my hands?” Beidou knitted her fingers together, stretching her arms out once more as she followed Ningguang’s gaze out of the window. “So, I mean, I get it. I’m sorry it had to happen that way.”

“My desk,” Ningguang said suddenly, remembering. “My desk...there was a part of the gold trim that was worn down from where I rested my arms when I wrote.” It had always annoyed her, that little spot. And she’d always meant to get it fixed, but just never had the time in between everything else she had to do. There had been lots of things like that, really. An unraveling thread in the drapery, a drawer that didn’t quite shut all the way. The gentle decay of a home.

@pap3rtigers.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 12:35 AM

have another #SoapisALIVE / #GazisSAFE #WIPWednesday yay! Only a couple more weeks before @soap-is-alive.bsky.social floods the tag~

#ghoap #pap3rfics #ghostsoap #soapghost #codfic

Maybe he already has driven John mad—the entire thing is insane, it's absolutely fucking mental, because he doesn't know the bloke from a hole in the wall. Just knows he's a blond with sad eyes who doesn't bloody talk and sits like he's trying to blend into the furniture.

Except every time Dr. Steuber brings up friends and connections and putting yourself out there, John, that's where his brain goes. Straight to the empty chair. Straight to the random stabs of grief because something is missing and he doesn't even know where to start.

But he's not ready to tell her about that yet. Call it trauma, or avoidance, or whatever the next fancy term someone in a white coat throws at him, it's… it's his. It's the one thing he has that's only his. The rest of his life is trapped behind smoke and mirrors, but this part… it's the first thing that's properly happened to him since he woke up with a hole in his skull and his brain scrambled and he's not ready to share it yet.

He also doesn't tell her about the memory flashes—the brown eyes, the grease paint, the phantom warmth of a body that his skin remembers but his mind doesn't. John absently rubs at the tattoo on his forearm. As sweet as Dr. Steuber is, she'd want to dig into it—which, that's why he's here, but…

…he doesn't know her yet.

@theparthecraft.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 12:11 AM

#wipwednesday I'm at the second section of the bubela shawl where the colors change up slightly. I do really like the slip stitch cable color changes. It's my first time doing this and I haven't screwed it up yet. #knitting 🧶

A knit shawl in progress with stripes of light tan, brown, and turquoise

A close up of the shawl in progress showing off a section with turquoise squares surrounded by brown lines

@dutchsgirl.bsky.social Oct 8, 2026, 12:08 AM

Working on a blanket. Finally got some orange yarn so I could start making some pumpkins 🎃

#WIPWEDNESDAY
#Crochet

@venomoussoliloquy.bsky.social Oct 7, 2026, 11:50 PM

How about some more post-canon #jayvik #wip for #wipwednesday 💖

WIP of my current sketch of post-canon Viktor and Jayce, now flat colored. Viktor’s fingers of his right hand is cupping Jayce's chin and the side of his face. He's tilting Jayce's head up and back so he can lean in to press a kiss against his forehead. Jayce's eyes are closed, his brow relaxed and his lips are parted and turned up in a soft smile. Viktor’s hair is extra long and falling around them so it's framing them. Viktor’s left arm is resting over Jayce's shoulder with the barest hint of a gold band on his ring finger. Jayce's left hand is resting in Viktor's forearm, a matching gold band also visible on his ring finger (yes they are married)

Viktor's face, arms and hands are covered in 'Arcane scarring' that looks similar to the anomaly.

@blazingvanp.bsky.social Oct 7, 2026, 11:40 PM

#WIPWednesday Another Wednesday, another piece of my Dimilix fic for the FE Vampire Weekend. I'm happy to share that chapter 1 of 4 is complete, so I'll definitely have something to post on October 30th. I hope I'll finish the rest by then. 🦇

Snippet of my WIP

"Dimitri turns. His icy blue eye is wide open after being startled. Felix can smell the adrenaline on his battle-crazed blood. It's so enticing. The unbidden thought has him pursing his lips and biting into his cheeks from the inside, if only to ignore the sudden thirst. The scent of Dimitri's blood is appetising, yes; Felix has noticed as much since the Blue Lions returned to Garreg Mach. Yet, he has spent the better of the last five years mastering his own impulses to be strong enough to resist. He refuses to let himself be more of a monster than he already is. If he is to feed on blood, let that be the blood of animals, thieves or imperials. Dimitri's blood is but a minor distraction, nothing more."

@nehiwolfart.com Oct 7, 2026, 11:27 PM

There's much more to do with shaping these necks but my hands are telling me I'm quite done for the day. Ouch. 😕

#wip #wipwednesday #threestring #cigarboxguitar

@crochetmelovely.bsky.social Oct 7, 2026, 11:19 PM

It's #wipwednesday! What are you working on this week? ✨️🤗💗

This blanket is almost done! It's been fun to work on 💕
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#yarn #crochet #creator #workinprogress

@ilworld-comic.bsky.social Oct 7, 2026, 11:11 PM

It's #WIPWednesday what are you guys working on? I'm back at it working on updating my old pages for the print of vol 2. I'm trying to keep the updates to a minimum. Making minor changes to faces and colors.

Ilworld page 109. Rahab is leaving and says if they cross paths again, maybe the main character will have remembered her name.

@pepverbsnouns.bsky.social Oct 7, 2026, 11:07 PM

#art #comic #digitalart #originalcharacter #sketch #webcomic #wip #wipwednesday

(#002 now on Pinya: pinya.io/episode/1Q31...)

Screenshot of the Infinite Painter drawing app open to a sketch: an office worker named Helen sits at her desk, hunched over slightly, holding a phone receiver in her left hand. In front of her keyboard and mouse are two coffee cups, one tipped over, a bag of chips, and a small stack of documents. She says into the phone, exasperated: "Hello. I.T. is aware of the-".

@adealnottakenao3.bsky.social Oct 7, 2026, 11:04 PM

#WIPWednesday #ADealNotTakenAU #chaggi #angst

ake by the door slamming open right next to her. She cursed herself for her lapse in attentiveness, as always, and the little scolding voice in her mind sounded vaguely like Lute, as it always
did.
She hurried to clear her head and take up her spear. Then she realised it was Charlie standing there, just outside the threshold of their room; and letting her guard down was suddenly
the farthest thing from Vaggie's mind. For just a moment Charlie had looked startled at Vaggie's presence, maybe even alarmed at the way she'd reached for her spear - but that vanished just as quickly. She folded her arms and didn't say anything. Her gaze was cold, harsh, in spite of the puffiness of her eyes and the half-dried tear tracks down her cheeks; and the chill of that gaze - the guilt of knowing she was the
cause of it - settled heavily in Vaggie's stomach.
Awkwardly she got to her feet, her weapon left abandoned on
the floor. They both knew full well it was an angelic weapon. Vaggie had dropped it when Lute had cut out her eye, three years ago, and in her shock and agony she hadn't thought to pick it up again, even in self-defence against her superior-now-tormentor. Hadn't been able to think about anything aside from the pain and horror and betrayal. She'd left it, wherever it was, as she staggered from one
alleyway to another; the one where Charlie would find her.

But a few weeks after they'd met, the day after they'd settled on Vaggie becoming Charlie's bodyguard because Charlie wanted to go public with their relationship and Vaggie didn't want the spotlight on her, Charlie had said she had a gift to help with her new position, and she'd produced an angelic spear from behind her back that Vaggie recognized all-too-well. How had she been able to
hide the guilt and revulsion she felt picking it up again?
Charlie hadn't known its history. Maybe now she did. There was still silence between them, and that, to Vaggie, was the wrongest thing of all. Charlie's chattering; her singing; her beautiful voice ringing out with ideas and melodies and hope in a terrible world was a beacon Vaggie clung to, as much as Charlie's inopportune and sometimes counterproductive bursts of song frustrated her. Her silence felt like that light was being denied to
her.
At last, Charlie opened her mouth.
"When were you going to tell me."
It didn't sound like a question.
Vaggie swallowed back dread at her girlfriend's tone. "Charlie, I
know, I am so sorry-" "Three. Years. Vaggie." Charlie cut in, voice quivering with hurt. "Three years I shared my whole life with you. I've shared everything about myself," she started counting off on her fingers, more aggressively with each finger she ticked off, "my hopes, my
dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits... what fucking

DEODORANT I like! And you kept... this? Something as big as this
from me?"
"I - I.." What could she even say to that? It was the ugly,
unvarnished truth. "Were you even going to tell me? Ever?" Charlie looked stricken, revolted at the thought of it. "Were you just planning to
go on for years hoping that I wouldn't find out?"
"N-no, I - Charlie-" "I trusted you, Vaggie!" Vaggie felt just as tortured as Charlie sounded. "We're supposed to be partners, and you - you hid this
from me!!"
"I'm sorry, Charlie! I knew it was wrong, I was trying to make
up for it; if I couldn't tell you, then I could at least—"
'It doesn't! That makes it worse!"
"Then please, please, Charlie, tell me how I can fix this!" Charlie didn't answer at first - scrubbed at her eyes, turned away and stormed down the stairs. Vaggie followed, because what
else could she do?
"You shouldn't have to ask!"