#dilly daisy

[wakkodoodle]

GET “ART ATTACKED” AGAIN, @urbanqhoul

holds Liminal Library and everyone in it so gently

[urbanqhoul]

Does Whimsy's Rem World & Liminal Library exist in the same universe?

Nope more like WRW was based off Liminal Library- or more accurately I took a lot of the idea's I had for LL and put it into WRW :3

[cutejk123]

8/8 Duck with Dilly 💚🪿🌼

Happy 8/8 with lots of daisies because it’s mid summer and Duck with his pet Dilly ☺️☺️

[number1spongebobfan]

they do a little cosplay :3

I wanted to draw Ben and Timothy as Louie and Huey but I'm tired.

[necromelli]

I've got like, 1 and a half episodes to go before I finish djats and I don't want it to be over 😭😭 it doesn't feel like kve had enough time i need more daisy and billy :((

[urbanqhoul]

I already commented on art fight but i just wanna say again that this is so fucking cute quq absolute lil bean i love it immahityoubackwithartsoooon~

ArtFight attack for @urbanqhoul

Team Werewolves

[steviewashere]

Hi possible prompt for your ask box celebration (congrats on 330 btw!!)

Eddie is one of those street poets w/ a typewriter that will write people on the street a poem abt anything they ask for, in exchange for tips or like $5

& Steve walks by & asks for a poem & Eddie is immediately like 😍😍😍

& then maybe Eddie flirts outrageously through the poem, or he tries so hard to keep it #professional but he’s so goo-goo over this (Adonis of a man) guy that he fails miserably, or whatever direction you would want to take it

anyway Steddie meetcute street poetry 🥰🥰🥰

This was such a fun prompt. And before we get anywhere with this, I did have to write a little poem here and it does sort of suck. Apologies in advance for it. Steve Harrington is usually not my main muse, lol. But I still enjoyed this <3

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Meet-Cute, Set in New York, Strangers to Lovers, Mild Angst, Fluff, Steve Harrington Has Self Esteem Issues, Brief Mentions of Car Accidents, Poet Eddie Munson, Muse Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Sunshine

Also on AO3 (because this one got long)

📝————————📝 Eddie Munson doesn’t sell drugs anymore. Nope. He’s a refined, renewed, reorganized man. That being said, he still needed to make money somehow. It wasn’t enough to do just mechanic work on the weekdays; something had to happen over the weekends, else he wouldn’t make it for his bills.

So he picks up a few new hobbies. Cycling, because that was the cheapest way for him to get around—he’s not particularly good at that one, but he still tries anyway. Photography, because his neighbor was selling his older cameras and the opportunity just couldn’t pass by. Then, there was his new found little business/career/dilly-dally.

Poetry.

On weekends, Eddie Munson, the guy who can’t afford to go to jail because of some rat-faced little tell-all not liking his product, writes poetry for a bit of extra cash. He sets up in Central Park with a little collapsable table and a few stools, a heavy as shit typewriter that his uncle off-loaded onto him, and enough paper to whoever is buying. There’s a tip jar dutifully set up by his feet. And the pay rate is whatever people can afford or want to afford.

One time, he wrote poems for a group of six giggly, drunk girls coming back from brunch mimosas—they gave him $30 each. Another, a little old man who had just beat a group of preteens at basketball—he could only afford the $3.50 that was rattling around in his shorts. Sometimes kids would come up and ask about getting a poem about their mom or their puppy or the little daisy they had just picked—they got theirs for free (they need to save their money for ice cream. And, also, he’s not going to get in trouble for a kid choosing to spend their lunch money. No sir-ee).

The weekends could be dry, though. They could get boring. But the sun hits him nice. And he usually sees a few beautiful pooches. And, well, he gets to work on his craft. A passion of his that he held onto since being a little kid. And people appreciate him for it, which is…nice to put it in simple terms.

This Saturday, though, is a rather dry day for customers. It’s overcast. There are less people out, though Central Park is never completely empty. And his tip jar is basically just flies and dust.

Until, fortunately, a man approaches him. He seems timid, a bit shy, even if his smile is all charm. His hair is swooped over and curling at his shoulders, brunette with blonde highlights. The man’s skin is tanned from the most recent summer, not quite fading into this early fall. Dotted with moles, poking out from the collar of his polo and the sleeves, down to his wrists, a few on his face. He has a gorgeous nose: greatly geometric and centered between all his features, sun kissed on the tip, a little crooked on the bridge—aquiline. His lips are a soft pink, a bit pouty, stretching wonderfully around his straight, white teeth. And his eyes are a tad downturned, hooded, shiny with excitement; hazel, but leaning more towards a light shade of brown, fanned by long, dark eyelashes, and squinting with his smile. He’s tall—probably around Eddie’s height, 5’11”. Pretty fit—his arms are toned and his hands are large and he’s broad on the shoulders, but he’s not bean pole thin like Eddie is, just a little chunkier. And, Eddie’ll never admit this out loud, but the dude’s got a great ass, perfectly squeezed in by a pair of Levi’s—light wash, edging on skinny, but not entirely form-fitting. His polo is a darling yellow ochre; rich and warm and perfect to his skin tone.

He doesn’t know what kind of poem he’ll write for this guy, but fuck him, he just wants to wax on and on about this literal slice of heaven that’s standing over him. Smiling. Hands clasped together in front of him. His bright, sunshine eyes. And…yeah, that’s a word to describe this guy.

Sunshine.

“Um—hey, you’re the guy that does the little typewriter poems, right?” The guy asks, his knuckles turning white as he squeezes his hands tighter together. He shifts from one foot to the other, a quick nervous tic that you’d miss if you weren’t looking at him. And now that he’s stepped closer to the makeshift “booth”, Eddie can smell him. There’s a rich earthy undertone to him—the bark of freshly wet pine trees, a drop or two of eucalyptus, and there’s a touch of citrus to him, too; orange or vanilla-lemon, it’s hard to tell.

Eddie wants to stick his nose in the crook of this guy’s neck. Wants to suckle on his skin. Lick a stripe from the underside of his jaw, down to his ankles, and back up all over his face.

But he just smiles, soft and pulling, and blinks up at him. “Yeah, that’s me,” he states softly. “Want me to write you one? It costs however much you’d like to pay.”

“However much?” His face goes a little complicated. The biggest, Muppet-esque frown Eddie’s ever seen, the pinch of his eyebrows, and a tilt to his head. He’s gauging the near empty tip jar, from where his eyes seem to trail. “Isn’t that a bad rule for business?”

Eddie shrugs. “I dunno. I know nothing about business. But…It’s kept me afloat most of the time, so it’s not terrible.”

The guy makes a short grunt of assessment. “Hm, okay,” he murmurs, “do I pay you now or after?”

“After.”

“Okay,” he murmurs again. Even his voice is doing things to Eddie. It’s all deep at the base of his throat. A little raspy as if he smokes cigarettes; probably does based on the curl of stale smoke Eddie smells from him as he settles into a stool. “I know that you usually do whatever prompt the customer gives, but I’m sort of…I’m pea for brains, so I can’t really think of anything. Is it okay if…Can you just pick something?”

Eddie tilts his head and looks off of the guy’s shoulder. Miffed at how downtrodden this stranger is on himself. He gazes back and asks, “Can I write about you?”

His eyes widen and he jolts in his seat just a fracture. “I mean, sure. If that’s really the muse you want to go with.” And then he gives a self-deprecating chuckle. Eddie kind of wants to shake him by the shoulders and scream to the whole fucking galaxy about how beautiful he is. But he restrains. “Nothing about the scars on the backs of my arms, though, please,” guy adds a moment later, so quiet that Eddie almost misses it. “It’s from a bad car accident and I—I’m just now getting back into the swing of wearing short sleeves.”

Nodding, Eddie says, “You got it. And hey—“ He takes the sleeve of his t-shirt and rolls it up. The shirt’s from an old club in high school, the Hellfire Club. Quarter sleeves to his elbows. But right above the crease of his left elbow is a long, scraggly, winding scar that creeps from the base of his neck. He even points to the side of his face, at the large swatch of scarring on his jaw. How Mr. Beautiful Stranger didn’t notice it, Eddie’s unsure. “—I understand,” he states gently. “Also from a bad wreck. It happens to the best of us,” he tries to joke.

And even his laughter melts Eddie. High pitched and unrestrained, giggles coming straight from his heart. “Yeah, okay,” he sighs. “Sure, I’ll be your muse.”

Eddie sets up his typewriter, at the start of the paper, two fingers down, not indented. “Do you care if I use your name as the title?”

“Steve,” he softly says, “and yours?”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth curl upwards lightly, just a little thing. “I’m Eddie. Some people around here will call me Ed, but you call me whatever you want.”

Steve hums. “How about Eds? Actually…Unless that’s—That might be stupid, never mind.”

Barreling, Eddie just asks, “How ‘bout I call you Stevie?” He grins with it. “We can be Eds and Stevie, the unlikely duo.”

Another little fit of giggles, Eddie’s never felt so full. “Okay, Eds and Stevie, The Unlikely Duo. Thanks for not making me feel dumb.”

“You’re only dumb if you’re a bigot. And, I could be wrong, but every aspect of you does not spell bigot. You seem like a nice guy, all things considered.”

Instead of a verbal response, all Eddie receives is a slow lull of silence. But when he looks up, Steve is staring right back. A soft, pleased smile on his face. Cheeks flushed. It’s like he’s bursting at the seams with the approval. Maybe he is, Eddie considers, maybe nobody’s ever told him that. And that thought gets shut down almost as fast as it formed, makes Eddie’s chest hurt just a little too much to work through.

“So, Steve, what’s got you out here this morning?” He works better with conversation, so hopefully Steve will give him this.

“Oh,” Steve softly exclaims as if he wasn’t expecting Eddie to talk to him. Or to acknowledge him. Or to even exist with him past this poem. “I come out here and feed birds on Saturday mornings. Technically, I don’t think I’m supposed to, but nobody’s stopped me. Just ran out of seed and was sort of wandering around and remembered that you were here. I’ve never had interest in coming over here, but I’ve seen you, so it was just what my best friend told me that drew me over.”

“Mm, word from mouth. All good things, I can only hope.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, amazing things, actually. She said you were really nice to her. She had come home from brunch with a few of her friends and they were tipsy.” He sighs, chuckling through it. “It was noon on a Saturday when she came back to our apartment. And I could smell the alcohol on her. Think I was…I had been sleeping—I’m a heavy sleeper and I’m chronically fatigued all the time, so I tend to sleep in late. But she came into my room, shook my shoulder, and was a crying mess when I finally saw her. Asked her what was wrong. She just blubbered on and on about how a really nice guy wrote something really nice for her about her little friendship. And I just…I don’t know. I wanna read something that makes me feel better about the world and maybe also reduces me to tears.”

Eddie stops where he’d been softly clacking away on his typewriter. He tends to type loud, but something about Steve makes him stop and appreciate even the air around him. Something about him just soothes Eddie. Also, the fact that he rambles is cute. He’s good at silences. And he’s good at just talking.

“Well, I can’t promise that it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever read,” Eddie slowly states. “I can try, though. I can try to write something beautiful.”

“You’re writing about me, so I’m not expecting it to be beautiful,” Steve quickly says. He backtracks though, stopped in his seat and wide-eyed. His mouth is agape and his cheeks are completely red now. “Forget I said that. That’s—I struggle a lot with that and I promised my best friend that I’d stop being so hard on myself, but it just is…automatic.”

As nonchalant as possible, Eddie begins to type again. He confesses more towards his paper, trying to avoid the eye contact, “You are beautiful, so this’ll come easy.” And then he’s met with that same slow lull of silence. The romantic kind of silence that Steve seems entirely attracted to. And, yeah actually, Eddie kind of appreciates it. The curve of the silence and the warmth of its face, the plushness of its lips in the ways it kisses the both of them. If Steve is so inclined to sit in this silence after admittances like that, maybe Eddie can learn to love them. If Steve wants more than just this poem.

He’s at the final stanza when Steve begins to speak again.

“Have you ever written about yourself?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie murmurs, typing away, “no I don’t think I have.”

Steve takes a grand breath. “Y’know, if you like writing about the beauty in things, you should write about yourself, too.” He’s fiddling with his hands, focus elsewhere, when Eddie is openly staring at him again.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. Steve nods carefully, eyes shiny with nerves now. He’s chewing on the inside of his right cheek. Eyes darting back and forth and back and forth. “You think I’m beautiful?” He meekly questions.

“Yeah, I think so. You’ve got these…huge brown eyes that pull me in and they’re sort of soft on your face, kind of like a deer, maybe a baby cow? I love those two, so don’t be insulted. And…You’re always sitting in the sun, but you’re still sort of pale and it makes it easier to see all the little freckles you’ve got. And—I, for one—love freckles. I think that your hair is just wonderful. And I—I don’t know, I’ve seen you around. Maybe I’ve thought about you a little too much.” His smile is sheepish and cute. Absolutely adorable.

Eddie grins. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re hitting on me.” He works the paper out of the typewriter, smooths the fine wrinkles at the bottom of the sheet, and then looks his writing over.

Steve gains a manly kind of confidence to him now. He leans forward, just a hair away from seeing what Eddie wrote, and talks low and smooth. “And if I was?”

He glances up, warming on the face. “I’d say that I like it and…y’know, if my poem doesn’t suck, I know a good cafe around here. Only if this is good and only if you’re interested.”

“Show me what you got, Eds. I’ll probably take you up on that lunch offer after.”

In the short few years Eddie’s been doing this, he’s never been nervous to present his work. But he hands the paper over, hands shaking and palms sweating. And waits, with bated breath, as Steve reads it over:

————— There is a glow to him. A cast of light that brightens the world as I know it. From just one glance of his smile—all pearl and pink and new I could tell there was something special to him.

He’s sunshine, I believe.  The very ball of light, the all encompassing warmth of a celestial body, the very thing that continues to sustain. There is love through him, within everything he does.

Just one look at him and I’m refreshed. Even with very little, even with just appearances alone. May he know the way I was drawn in—maybe that makes me Icarus. To want to know something so much, you’re ready for everything that comes with it; Even the chance to burn up, even the chance to merge with it, even the chance to only see it once.

May he know that before I knew his name, I knew his smile. Before I knew his name, I knew his trepidation. Before I knew his name, I knew his warmth.

It’s not enough, to say he’s gorgeous. That’s not a strong enough word. But he is. Oh, how he is.

He’s painted my world golden— I see sunlight with him.

May he know that I’ll carry his light in my chest, May he know that I selfishly want more. ————— Finally, Steve’s attention goes back to Eddie’s face directly.

“I tried,” Eddie says, “it got away from me, though. And I…I didn’t write exactly how you’re beautiful. But there’s something about you—Something so out of this world, beyond what anybody could ever possibly comprehend. You seem like somebody worth knowing, worth being around.” He swallows hefty when Steve continues to just stare. His face is completely unreadable. “You approached my table and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Just sucked me right in, every part of you. Sorry if this…If this wasn’t what you were looking for.”

Though, when Eddie is only met with that silence from earlier, he takes the opportunity to stare a little longer. At the high flush of Steve’s cheeks. The fine sheen of his eyes. There’s a little pinch between his eyebrows and a twist to his mouth.

“My best friend,” Steve wetly murmurs, “she always tells me that I’m the light of her world. And I—“ He sighs, the sound a lot choked and stuttering. “—I don’t know. I’ve never been able to believe her. I always just thought she was biased or something.” He looks down at the paper again, his thumbs running along the margins reverently. Steve sniffles. “I used to not be a very good person. Used to say things just because I heard them, because I knew they were bad. And it took…God, it took so long to relearn everything. To find myself, to figure out who I was outside of my bigoted family. Even then, I always thought I was just…” He shrugs. “I thought that I was destined for a lifetime of loneliness or something because nobody wanted to be around me. Because they thought I was one way, when I was really the other. Or they could only see me as I was, not who I am.”

Steve looks up to Eddie again. There are tear streaks down his cheeks. Wet and glistening in the little bit of light breaking through the clouds. With the sunlight on him, he’s even brighter than Eddie anticipated. It’s sort of unfair, too, how beautiful he is even when he cries.

“Thank you for this, Eds,” Steve quietly says, “you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“You wanted to feel better about your world. I wanted to show you something that’s changed mine, I suppose.” Eddie sits slumped in his stool, hands between his knees, pulling and twisting at his rings. He chews on his bottom lip. “And I meant what I said earlier, Stevie. You seem like a really nice guy. A good guy.”

Slowly, and oh so gently, Steve places a tentative hand to Eddie’s left forearm. His gaze has softened, sweetened. He’s smiling this small, appreciative, pleased thing. And Eddie can already feel the sun burn developing. “You are, too. Really, Eds. You have no idea what your art does for the world, who you’re helping.” His thumb absentmindedly is stroking over Eddie’s skin. Hand heavy and warm and firm, comforting. Grounding. Sustaining Eddie. “If you meant the other thing you said earlier, I’d like to get something with you at that cafe. I’d like to get to know you.”

“Stevie, you’d be doing me an honor. Just let me pack up here, yeah?” He pulls away, hesitantly, unfortunately. And he begins to collapse all his equipment. Putting the typewriter in its case. The stools folded neatly under his arm.

“Oh, let me pay you first before you put—“

“Don’t worry about that. I’m getting a nice lunch date and a beautiful guy out of this, I don’t need the money.”

Steve grunts. He pops a hip out, crosses his arms over his chest with the poem still carefully held in his grip, and pouts. Eddie kind of likes that he’s a bit bitchy, too. Good guys can have fun, too. “Fine,” Steve huffs. “Let me pay for the lunch, though. My treat.”

Eddie gently rolls his eyes and smirks. “You’ve got a little spice to you, sunshine. I like that. Burn me up and maybe I’ll write more about you.”

“Keep it in your pants, Eds. We haven’t even left the park.”

“No promises.”

📝————————📝 Thank you again for this prompt, it was a lot of fun <33

[angelwiththeblue-box]

String lights twinkle as Tommy and Spencer walk down the street, their breath fogging in front of them as snow falls. 

Tommy feels Spencer interlace their fingers and he squeezes his hand softly. 

“You cold?” Tommy asks, rubbing his thumb over Spencer’s.

Spencer shrugs. “Eh. Not used to the snow.” 

Tommy laughs and sticks out his tongue to catch a snowflake. “Yeah, but it’s fun! The sun and occasional rain gets boring. Plus, pretty lights!” Tommy says, gesturing around them. Street lights glow dimly in the night, the moon partially by clouds. They’re the only two on the street, everyone else choosing to cuddle somewhere warm. (Curse Tommy for wanting to see the snow a little. And for wanting to spend some time with his boyfriend before they have to go back to work.)

“Hey, hey, Tommy.” Speaking of. Tommy turns back around to see Spencer holding a sprig of mistletoe, standing on his toes ever so slightly to get it above Tommy’s head. 

Tommy snorts. “If you wanted to kiss me, you coulda asked, Spence.” 

Spencer just smirks and shakes the mistletoe as if to emphasize a point. “That’s not as fun. Plus, it’s the holidays. Tradition, and all that jazz.” He tugs on Tommy’s wrist lightly and Tommy grins, wide and happy. He wraps an arm around Spencer’s waist and pulls him closer, melting into him.

____

happy secret santa @dilly-dally-daisy !!! i hope you like it!!! and thanks again to @lilac-hecox for organizing, this was so fun to work on!!! happy holidays!! <333

[burnthoneydrops]

masterlist

bridgerton

What Time Has Done [Benedict Bridgerton x original character series]

Subtle(tea) [Benedict Bridgerton x reader request]

A Proposal of Convenience [Anthony Bridgerton x reader request]

Moonlit Confessions [A proposal of convenience pt 2 (Anthony Bridgerton x reader)]

The Sun and the Moon [Eloise Bridgerton x original character series]

The Sun and the Moon ii [^^]

The Language of Flowers [Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader]

Lavender's Blue, Dilly Dilly [Colin Bridgerton x fem!reader]

Paper Flowers [Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (Language of Flowers pt.2)]

spider-man

Is That my Sweatshirt? [Peter Parker x gn!reader)

stranger things

Blonde [Robin Buckley x fem!reader]

Meet the Parents [jonathan byers x reader]

daisy jones and the six

Coffee and Donuts [Graham Dunne x gn!reader]

luckiest man on the planet [graham dunne x fem!reader]

ted lasso

Like I Always Do [sam obisanya x fem!reader]

Drunk in the Back of the Car [Jamie Tartt x fem!reader]

Flirting 101 [isaac mcadoo x fem!reader]

Tickle Fight [jamie tartt x gn!reader]

Home for the Holidays [sam obisanya x reader]

the ballad of songbirds and snakes

loverboys on our hands [sejanus plinth x covey!reader]

lest beauty be wasted [sejanus plinth x covey!reader]

[urbanqhoul]

WEIRDCORE HOURS AGAIN~

My bud @bun-elations took a bunch of pretty pics of flowers and I felt compelled to do a collage style drawing with em eue. (She took all the pics used in this eXCEPT for the sunflowers which are from the clip studio asset site- imma link that in the reply if ya want it just so tumblr doesn't shove this post down for having a link in it)

[garbashedump]

...white guy Scrabby phrases

I GOT THE LIST bunch of things of mildly zesty phrases Scrabby would probably say

"don't get your panties in a twist" (ofc ofc)

"shiver me timbers! I'm freezing like a popsicle out here"

"hey guys let's split up to cover more ground"

"working hard or hardly working?"

"hi hungry I'm dad."

"the early bird catches the worm!

"wow were sure in a pickle here!" (Prism fav phrase ofc)

"that's it no more Mr. Nice auditor! that's the last straw buckeroo."

"you're on thin ice pal."

"I'm keeping my eye on you."

"you catch more scrabbys with sugar than smoke "

"Ahh, a good ol' cup of Jake Joe!"

"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!"

"Time to dig in!" / "Time to get my grub on!"

"Oh look the suns out while its raining! guess the devil is beating his wife"

"Uh oh looks like we got company..."

"See you on the flip side!"

"You're looking a little tipsy-tury my friend."

"Looks like someone's buzzed as a bee."

"Looks like someone is decks below the ship."

"Oh how the tables have turned."

"Its the heart of the cards!"

Lifting heavy stuff: "Man anymore lifting and I'll blow my back hip out."

"Well slap my ass and call me Sally."

"Well butter my bugs and call me a Biscuit"

"Better safe than sorry!"

"Oh crumbs."

"Let's not dilly-dally too long guys."

"Aw quit being a negative Nancy!"

"Oooooh..... Right in the bread basket."

"Jeeze Louise lemon squeeze!"

" Holy moly guacamole!"

"Stop all of this tomfoolery this instant!"

"An apple a day keeps the doctor away!"

"Oopsie daisy!"

"Guess whoo✨" (Covers Prism's eyes)

"Beggars aren't choosers."

"Ahh I see, the apple never falls far from the tree."

"Looks like ya got ants in your pants."

"All bark but no bite huh?"

"Man that really ruffles my feathers."

"Ah! It'll be like finding a needle in a haystack!!"

"I'm losing my marbles over here!"

.....ok.... i may or many not have more but the- they're Scrizzers..

damn are you zombie fungi? cause you got me under your spell

are you a spider? cause you woven me in your web of love

are you the summer sun? cause you got my cheeks sunburnt red

Prism: damn you a cigarette? cause you got me addicted to you (Scrabby would then die after hearing this)

btw these are directed towards lawful joke au by @chaosaliien

[number1spongebobfan]

Donald is the dad

Daisy is the mom

Dilly is their baby

Duck and Douglas are the uncles

I ship Donald with Daisy because they remind me of another cute couple <3

[jessythebunny]

💚Oliver the great western engine🍃

💚Oliver takes his work seriously and he is very serious about his work to a great degree, and he doesn't like to mess around and play while working

💚he can sometimes be cocky and he has a sassy side, and he can do sassy things, but he is always stern and very creative in anything and he has to do his jobs without dilly dalliying

💚Oliver is a bit softie and he loves to wear some cozy clothes but he gets annoyed when someone's calling him a girl because of his style

💚he's afraid of fireworks because they remind him of the scrapyard, and also when he passes from it, he remember that time when he was there and starts crying

💚The green ribbon on his head is a gift from Duck after he became his boyfriend as a thank you. And he always wears it and he loves it so much

💚he's sometimes being rude to Toad and he doesn't care about him, like when he saw a beached whale and he didn't believe him, and he was singing and Oliver found his voice really ugly and loud, so maybe Toad doesn't deserve all this treatment from this dumbass

💚Oliver likes eating snacks like salted nuts or salted bescuits or strawberries dipped in chocolate

💚he has a massive crush on Duck and he's already taken by him, and also he has strong feeling for Douglas, but like I said many times the two take turns to avoid the fight

💚he's close with Duck, Toad, Donald and Douglas, Edward ,Marina(oc), Skiff, BoCo, Jenny(oc)

💚good friends with Thomas, Percy, James, Toby, Daisy, Emily, Henry, Philip, Mia(oc), and very nice to everyone

💚he's still mad at Diesel for Duck and sometimes when he sees him, he has to beat him up

🩶Toad the brake van🧸

🩶Toad is a very kindhearted and is a pure child with pure intentions and soul, and it is impossible for him to ever swear

🩶Toad works and does his best to be a useful brake van, and he doesn't care if anyone makes fun of him like the troublesome trucks

🩶Toad will do anything and do the impossible to help anyone and be a brake van to anyone when his time is free, just that engine has to pull him slowly because when that engine goes really fast, Toad starts to get terrified. Gordon don't you dare to touch him

🩶Toad enjoys anything related to the sea, and he likes singing about the sea, and he sits infront of the shoreline of the beach and starts singing

🩶Toad really likes to hang out with James and Emily, and he's their child

🩶He likes to call anyone Mr. or Miss, just to show his respect for them

🩶he's close with Oliver, Duck, Donald and Douglas, James, Emily, Dilly, Marina (oc), Jenny (oc), Mia(oc), BoCo, Bill and Ben, Edward, Skiff

🩶good friends with Thomas, Percy, Henry, Toby, Mavis, Philip, Rosie, and he's nice to everyone

[gobodegoblin]

Pick a dilly, Pick a daisy

Pick a rose? I suppose

Pick a lovely flower for the eve’

[lordvonbunnyv]

TTTE pet headcanons

Thomas: has a pair of zebra finches, technically they’re Annie and Clarabel’s but he likes to take care of them, had a cat when he was younger though

Edward: no pet, but likes to look after the neighborhood stray cat, the stray cat likes to hang around his house.

Gordon: never had a pet, but kind of wants a horse because his brother and cousin have one

Henry: five guinea pigs and a Flemish Giant rabbit, used to keep mice as pets when he was little and had a baby squirrel at one point that he brought to school in his shirt pocket that then got out, and freaked the teacher out.

James: had a goldfish that died after a week, doesn’t trust himself to look after a pet rock

Percy: five pigeons and two doves

Toby and Henrietta: a dachshund and a pair of canaries

Duck: one very old terrier and a tabby cat.

Donald: Dilly obviously

Douglas: no pets but wants a little Shetland pony because they’re cute

Oliver: no pets but wants a Norfolk terrier

Toad: a hamster

Emily: a Scottish terrier that screams whenever a bike passes by, and a Yorkshire terrier

Diesel: no pets but wants a snake to terrorize everyone with.

Daisy: a Persian cat

Flying Scotsman: a Morgan horse

Spencer: a very expensive thoroughbred horse with a certificate of authentication and a pair of foxhounds

Salty: a crusty old one eye three legged ship cat with a snaggle tooth

Cranky: do seagulls that he feeds everyday count?

Porter: a bad tempered fowl mouthed Severe macaw that bites

Bill and Ben: no pets, but they love to tease Porter’s parrot to get it to cuss

Paxton: a pair of Siamese cats

[urbanqhoul]

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THIS QUQ I'mma attack you back soon~

Attack for @urbanqhoul!