#and I love fluffy things

[finnleyandsillys]

I was going to change the lighting but then I got lazy sooo he's just blue

But the sudden motivation I needed to change that light got me up to change the LED remote to off. Now I had to be very sure to press the off button on said remote. Pressing the on button would have led to a disaster. Destruction of the world we know and love. I managed to free myself from the blue LEDs grasp and went on to live a very happy life of my own under the control of no blue light. No light would tell me what to do any longer. And I wa-

Whoops sorry got a bit carried away there. That ramble has no underlying meaning I swear.

Where did that even come from?… anywho

@juaneloriginal sorry for tagging you so much today :’) also sorry for making you go though whatever (Gestures up) that was.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Hedghodg Snugglz

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A whole new meaning to Gay Chicken.

(For: Anonymous raffle winner!)

[teddybeartoji]

when co-worker!toji finds a cupcake, a note and a small paper flower on his table when he comes back from his break, he’s more than confused. he hasn’t told anybody about his birthday because he doesn’t even care about it in the first place and he doesn’t really care for the people at the office other than you either, so— 

you. 

his green eyes scan the room but he notices that you’re missing from behind your desk, he slowly slumps down onto his chair. he gnaws on his scarred lip as if he’s a little nervous – he’s used to just spend the new year’s eve with shiu and his family, and while they always gift him something nice, a little too nice even, to toji, his birthday has lost its meaning almost completely. 

he thinks this is too nice, too. 

sure, you’ve been working with each other for a good couple of months now and he gets along with you the best out of everybody here, he really can’t imagine why you’d go out of your way to get him something. hell, he doesn’t even know how you know it’s his birthday in the first place.

he eyes the cupcake and the little note beside it. and the flower. 

did you– did you make that for him? 

no way. 

…right? 

gently, he takes the small thing and places it right under the monitor, right where he can see it at all times. he doesn’t know how to describe the feeling inside him, right behind his ribcage, as he looks at the gift with his furrowed brows but it sure is something new. something he hasn’t felt in a very long time. 

next, he takes the note into his hand and glances around the office to make sure that nobody has noticed what he’s doing. they haven’t, and toji finds himself in a new type of a bubble – one that you’ve crafted just for him. 

it’s definitely your handwriting, he has seen it before. it’s a very simple ‘happy birthday toji’ with a very small heart next to his name and oh, how stupid he feels. what do you mean a doodle is making him feel giddy? 

this is ridiculous; he is a grown man, he doesn’t get giddy, he doesn’t— 

“i hope the flower wasn’t too weird.”

toji isn’t easily scared, it’s almost impossible to catch him off-guard like that, and yet, right now, his eyes are wider than ever. your voice is barely a whisper, most likely just so you wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention, but toji hears you loud and clear. 

he swallows the lump in his throat before pushing himself off the chair but since he didn’t realize you were so close behind him and you didn’t realize he’d stand up for you, he ends up grabbing onto your arms, so you wouldn’t fall over. 

“sorry…” you bite your lip and bat your eyelashes at him. he thinks he’s going to die. 

 “how’d you know?” 

he drops his hands to his side but he doesn’t move away and neither do you. 

“what, that today is the big day?”

he squints his eyes at you and you laugh. “okay, the small day.”

a ray of sun peeking in through the blinds. a warm light kissing his cheeks. you make the stupidest jokes. and he will always listen. 

“it’s a secret.” 

toji clicks his tongue.

“why?”

“why is it a secret?” 

“why’d you buy me stuff?” 

to a stranger, it’d probably sound like he’s interrogating you. but you know it’s just because you managed to surprise him. you, too, feel a little giddy now. 

“i didn’t buy you anything.”

his brows furrow again while your smile grows bigger.

“i made them, silly. and ‘why’ you ask?”

you don’t miss the slight flush that now adorns the apples of his cheeks. 

“because i wanted to. simple as that.”

[fl00mie]

ink and blackberry

ink by @/comyet

blackberry/error by @/loverofpiggies

[cyellolemon]

sillies.....

[keferon]

What are your thoughts on a decepticon prowl?

Oh I'm all for it. But! Only if he's actually a Con. Like. Wholeheartedly.

Not "nnnooo we're doingg a bad thing and I kind of dont wanna do bad thing but I have no choice poor me".

You know how in canon he truly believes he's on the right side and makes everything to ensure that Optimus wins the war? You know how he's willing to make every tough decision so Optimus doesn't have to risk his reputation? You know how he literally makes Autobots look like shiny brave and clean heroes who did nothing wrong ever?

I want all that but the other way around. I want him to do that for Megatron and for the Decepticons. The implications would be so fucking dramatic I could write a whole essay.

Low rank Cons would hate him so fucking bad.

Starscream would try to murder him at least once a day.

Megatron would absolutely treasure him. Autobots would have it r o u g h

Can you imagine

[cosmicdreamgrl]

cozy sweater vibes 🍀 for @cordiallyfuturedwight [ cr : namuspromised ]

[imaredshirt]

Give me a Stan who thinks Fiddleford doesn't know how to throw a punch, much less defend himself in a fight with your average goon, so one morning he takes it upon himself to show the nerd a few basic jabs and hooks and maybe an uppercut or two behind the cabin, because let's face it, there's gonna be a time when Stan can't be there to take a hit for the guy or defend his nerd butt. So he's gonna teach him some stuff for his own peace of mind.

Fiddleford just kind of genially goes along with it, following Stan around the back of the cabin and watching with hands on his hips and a smile as Stan gets into position.

"This is one of the most basic punches in the world, so pay attention, 'cause I'm not gonna show you again," Stan says, knees slightly bent and fists up.

Fidds nods. "You've got my full attention, Stanley."

Stan isn't sure if he's imagining the way Fidds is eyeing him up and down, but he automatically flexes his arms a little more than he needs to. Up ahead, Ford is sitting on a tree stump and taking samples of the air or something (Stan had stopped listening to Ford's explanation once his words went from interesting to Big Science Shit that Stanley Does NOT Care About) and he's watching them with this amused grin, rolling his eyes skyward when Stan won't stop flexing and showing his arms off.

Stan ignores him and rolls his shoulders before jabbing his fists forward in a quick one-two. "There - you catch that?"

Fidds has got his arms crossed now and gives Stan a thumbs up. "Sure did!"

"See, just like this," Stan says, and shows him again despite saying earlier that he wouldn't.

He shows him a few more punches, going over each one a couple times before telling the engineer to mirror him, even getting in close to adjust the guy's scrawny arms and balled fists. He's being real professional about it and everything and doesn't understand why Ford keeps grinning and shaking his head at them, which is making him a little incensed but he stamps it down because Fidds is watching him with this nerdy, dopey smile while letting himself be maneuvered around and he's gotta learn to defend himself 'cause Stan can't stand the thought of some jerkwad wiping that smile off the nerd's face.

"See," he says near the end of the lesson, tapping his fist right against Fidds’s chin. "Do it right and your fist'll hit right here."

Fidds tilts his head a fraction at the touch. "Well alright then, seems easy enough."

"Yeah, like I said, if you do it right. Gimme your hand-" he takes Fidds’s wrist and taps the guy's balled fist against his own stubbly jaw. "Right here. You got that?"

Fidds nods. "Sure do!"

"Good." Stan drops Fidds’s wrist and gets into position again. "Then come on - lay one on me."

Fidds pulls back and blinks at him. "Come again?"

"Hit me!" Stan taps his jaw. "Right here!"

The guy suddenly looks nervous and galnces over at Ford for help. "Hit you? Stanley, I don't think-"

This is what Stan means. Fidds isn't always gonna be able to look to him or Ford to save him. He gets this weird, uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Fidds facing off against some asshat on his own, and that alone is enough to keep him from letting the guys off easy, if only to get rid of the weird feeling. Maybe a bit selfish but he doesn't care.

"Ah, come on, one little punch ain't gonna hurt ya, Fidds."

"I'm not worried about me," Fidds says, and then frowns when Stan barks a laugh.

"You think you're gonna hurt ME?"

Fidds is still frowning when Ford calls over in an amused, warning tone, "This is not a good idea, Stanely!"

"Just worry about your air test or whatever and leave us alone," Stan calls back. Ford shrugs and scribbles something in his journal, and when Stan turns back to Fidds, Fidds is finally getting into position.

He looks unsure, watching Stan nervously as Stan stands before him with his arms crossed.

"Hey, not bad form - you ready?"

"Well, I suppose so," Fidds says, accent coming in a little thicker than before. "Stan, if you're sure, I should probably warn ya-"

"Don't tell me nothing, just punch me!"

Fidds presses his lips into a line and throws his fist - and jabs Stan on the chin just hard enough to tilt Stan's head half an inch to the side.

"That's it?" Stan guffaws and shakes his head. "That was barely a tap!"

"I don't wanna hurt ya!" Fidds says, sounding so conflicted that Stan gets this urge to pull him into a headlock and ruffle his hair and drive the worry away.

Instead he riles him up.

"Please," he says. "Fidds, look - one of these days I'm not gonna be there to take a hit for you, and then what're you gonna do? Just let some jerk punch ya around?"

Fidds looks slightly perplexed. "Where is this all comin from? No, Stanley, I am NOT gonna just let some jerk punch me around."

"Good! So you gotta learn to defend yourself!" Fidds still looks unsure, so Stan tries a different angle. "Okay, how 'bout this - what if some jerks are beating up on me and Ford, huh? You're just gonna let em?"

Fidds looks up. "What? No, I am not!"

"You're gonna defend us?"

"Dangnabbit, Stan - of course I am!"

"Not gonna let us get our teeth kicked out?"

"What!? No!"

"Then show me!" Stan slaps a hand against his own chin. "Right here, come on! I'm some jerk who just threw your friend Stan to the ground and I'm about to kick him in the gut, what're ya gonna-"

The blow lands hard. Stan's head jerks to the side and he's thrown off balance, and he sees actual stars before his vision clears again and he realizes he's crumpled on the ground. His head swims as hands pull him around onto his back.

"Mother o pearl!" Fidds gasps. He's got his hands on Stan's face, careful touch at complete odds with the punch he'd just landed in the same place. "Are you alright? I am so sorry! I hit ya and you weren't even ready and - you just got me so riled up and I tried to tell ya and I shoulda said earlier instead o just lettin ya show me all those moves, but I just wanted to, well - goddangit, Ford, this ain't funny."

Ford's laughing as he comes up behind them, looking down at where Stan is staring kinda dazedly up at Fidds, who's kneeling by his side in the cool grass. "We did try to tell him, Fiddleford."

"Tell me what?" Stan demands. His jaw is already aching but Fidds’s hands feel kinda good so he doesn't tell him to move.

"Fiddleford was a boxing champion back back in his hometown," Ford says.

Stan blinks. "Bwuh-?"

"Not much of a champion," Fidds says with a wince, but he's blushing a bit as he goes on, "It was never anythin official, but - well, I did win more than a few matches at some backyard parties, see, and - well, people usually don't think I got any hittin power or can defend myself, but my Ma's been all too happy to teach me since I was little, and-"

The guy's rambling, and Stan quits being able to understand what he's saying half way through cause the accent is coming in thick and Ford’s chuckling and standing there looking proud of his best friend and Stan’s a little worried that he's still jarred from the hit, cause when he looks at Fidds kneeling there, one hand one Stan's chest and the other bashfully rubbing his neck while he rambles on - he's still seeing stars.

Later, while Stan sits in the living room with an bag of ice in his jaw and Fiddleford sitting next to him, still rambling about all the times he'd knocked a few guys into the mud in some backcountry hoedown get-together or whatever, Stan can lean back and relax and grin, knowing Fidds is gonna be just fine.

He can't wait to teach him wrestling.

[bylerblogger]

I'm sorry, but the old bowl cut can't come to the phone right now.

Why?

Oh!...

Cause it's dead. ❤️

[loves2spwge]

a very sweet & loving stankyle kiss i commissioned from @currrsy 💙💚

[finnleyandsillys]

POV Your favorite artist/ idol just said something about your art/designs and now you feel the utter joy and need to express that with more artwork for them.

I totally don't stalk their page… and no I'm not tagging them (you all know who it is by now let's be honest)

Yes I'm using a weird art set I got for Christmas bc it's actually kinda good so sue me

[delicioustarong]

Fanart for this ACHINGLY GUT WRENCHING FIC! 'my body is young (but my mind is very old)' by green_tea_and_honey!!

Chapter 20 made me ugly sob y'all, I m not kidding (My eyes were puffy for the whole day LMAO) I can't express in words how this fic touched my soul so I decided to make fanart. This illustration is based on this part of the fic 👇 (under the cut) It's not biblically accurate but I like it. (Spoilers ahead!)

“Okay,” he whispered to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

The wave of panic he expected never came, even as water sloshed in, soaking his waist and rising more rapidly than ever now that Bill had been swept away. He could smell it, as if he had never left; salt, sand, and a hint of oil from a nearby factory that he suspected had stained the beach with its constant dumping in the ocean.

“I’m okay,” Ford said, looking at his hands, and taking a long, slow breath. “I’m okay.”

You guys should go read the fic and give it lots of love. I guarantee you all it's worth it!

(also small note; I have a lot of fanart for fics otw, I'm just busy with college and deadlines so it might take a while lolz)

[corpusdiem-seizethedead]

*camera filming like a documentary. Vaggie is narrating. The camera focuses on Husk reading on the couch*

Vaggie: This is Husk. He enjoys his personal space-

*camera pans out to reveal Angel laying across Husk’s lap*

Vaggie: This is Angel. He also enjoys Husk’s personal space.

[fl00mie]

honestamente, no sé

to prevent confusions i'm giving credits of every fankid in order (starting with the tall one)

layden (fresh x ink fankid) by @/sugary-alienn dot (cross x ink fankid) by @/yo-honne abstract (reaper x ink fankid) by CATA-824 on wattpad gradient (error x ink fankid) by @/askcomboclub paper jam (error x ink fankid) by @/7goodangel palette (dream x ink fankid) by @/angeutblogo blueprint (swap x ink fankid) by @/pepper-mint aiden (zack x ink fankid) by ariscastleart

[makenna-made-this]

BAWKmission for @inkedbantam of the lovely bearded lady, Zelda~

I'm still offering these fun little bird doodles for anyone who wants to see their bird BAWK-o-fied~ Proceeds go to helping me pay my bills and further spoiling of my already spoiled chickens<3 Links and commission info in pinned post