#i love me some cheese
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I've finally started playing Twilight Princess, and I'm loving it so far! I'm in the yeti dungeon rn, and Link's face when he keeps getting soup ingredients cracks me up! He's literally out here like, "it's an avocado...thanks... 😰"
#i mean tbh same#i love me some cheese#but if i'm looking for a mirror shard and instead i get cheese i would be very distressed too#also the arbiter's grounds was really fun!#i get the tp zelink ghost hunting jokes now#link in the arbiter's grounds: hey there demons it's me ya boy#sra plays tp#loz#tp#loz tp#twilight princess
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did someone say cheese??
⚠ Tip! You can attract someone's [white ass] with a piece of [cheese]
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These clown animatronics in FNAF wild as hell..
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf fanart#ennard#the mimic#jackie fnaf#fnaf sister location#secret of the mimic#michael afton#I really wanted to draw Jackie again#I love her design especially her silly extendo arms#some folks think Ennard and Jackie might be the same robot#like Ennard was gonna be a Funtime Jackie#which I think would be really neat to finally know what Ennard was supposed to be#Jackie hopeful gets along with the other clown animatronics#it’s funny to compare these two#CAUSE AS OF NOW Jackie has done much#we won’t know all her crimes till later#but I will say Ennard probably set the bar 💀#it’s hard to get more freaky than him but we’ll see if Jackie can do it#Jackie gives me very ‘cheesed to meet you’ vibes if that makes any sense
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Congratulations to TEAM CHEESE for winning the popular vote on the Charcuterie poll!
#charcuterie saga#digital art#I initally made the poll as a fun little side thing while I was away and not able to draw -#-and a week later it has become a true battleground of food passion!#I *will* be drawing the charcuterie board soon (I first need to plan out what this thing looks like based on the ratio of votes)#But I also really want to draw more faux stickers like this. Possibly...to make them into actual stickers?#Let's see what the vibes are like after I draw more. I'll do a interest check and if enough people want them...It will be so.#Team Olives and Pickles will get one next. As will team Crackers. You both fought hard but the battle was stacked against you.#Turns out people have very strong opinions about cheese!#Team Jam kept it fun with recommending the most delightful combinations and spreads.#Team meat made me laugh with their chants. Team fruit just wanted a lovely time.#Team crackers were the underdogs but fought a good fight.#Team olives and pickles - you weren't even an official team at the start but you made it your destiny. Well done.#Team Vanilla extract....You made me eat something terrible. Feta. Old chedder. Gouda. Babybel. None of these are good with Vanilla.#Don't ask me how I know that.#(I know I should do a soft goat cheese with some fruit in it. I just haven't had the opportunity yet.)#Thank you all for your participation and for filling my week with whimsy B*)#I've loved drawing these little mice a lot!
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i fucking love people here you guys see this dinnerplate-faced daycare animatronic and go "what if they were detectives" and you make all this amazing astounding art and writing and concepts and designs like yeah . sure . im going to be normal abt this and im not going to think about the incredible levels of creativity involved im not gointg to think about how much i love seeing beginner artists using the dca as a way to learn new skills in art and character design Im not going to think about how much joy is in all those AUs and how much artists and writers put aspects of whatever they enjoy in those stupid ass clowns to make these incredible inspired stories and artworks absolutely Brimming with love for what they created &how much i love seeing people in the community huddling around those AUs and hyping them up and making More Art from those yeah im normal. whatever
#im a vanilla dca fan but dear lord some of you draw me in like a rat to cheese#fnaf dca#talking#i think early early on in the fandom i saw a post complaining about this#about some dca content being so far from the original concept that it just doesnt make sense#not to be cheesy on main but i think the love that people have for this character is insane and i think that if you make#incredible ass monster sea monster mermaid WHATEVER designs#and at the heart of it all its because of how mch you love the dca#then thats fucking fantastic#this is probably worded really fucking badly maybe i'll try again another time#its 3 am man im going to sleep
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Our Cottage
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)
A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it
__
The room was too fragrant.
Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true.
“What in the world?”
“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”
“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”
“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”
“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”
“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”
She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”
Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”
“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”
“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”
She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.
“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”
“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”
“Not a clue.”
“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”
“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”
“A year ago, today.”
“Today is… surely not…”
Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.
~
Dearest,
I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been.
Happy anniversary, my love.
Yours forever,
B
~
Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.
“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”
“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”
“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”
“Not your first one though, correct?”
“Well, no—”
“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”
“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.
_
“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”
“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”
“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.
“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”
Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”
“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”
“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?
“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”
Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.
“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”
“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”
“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.
“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”
“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”
“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”
“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”
“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”
“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”
“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”
“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”
“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”
“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus.
“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”
“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”
(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”
“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.
As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.
_
Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day.
Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.
When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family.
“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”
“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.
“How was your family, sir?”
“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”
“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”
“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”
“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”
“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”
Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”
“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”
“You as well, sir.”
Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.
“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”
Silence.
“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”
A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door.
Odd.
“(Y/N)…?”
He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing.
“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”
“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”
“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”
“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”
“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”
“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever.
“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—”
“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.
“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”
“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”
“So it is not yet finished—”
“May I see it?”
“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.
“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.
“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”
“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”
“Perhaps…”
“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”
She nodded. “One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand.
Laughter filled the room.
“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”
“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”
On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.
“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”
“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”
“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”
“Benedict—”
“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”
“Truly?”
“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.
“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige.
After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other.
“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”
“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more.
“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”
“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”
Another playful slap to his arm.
“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—”
“What about our bedchambers?” He offered.
“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”
“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”
“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”
“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”
“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”
“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”
“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes.
“I may have a few ideas…”
_
The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.
“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”
“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”
“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”
“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”
“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.
“So I’ve been told.”
“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”
“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”
“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”
“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”
Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement.
Their daughter was born only nine months after.
“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.
“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#hi i love b.b and no one can stop me#if anyone wants some wine with a side of this CHEESE come and see me
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everyone should read steel (1994) because not only is john henry irons there but also he has some incredibly homoerotic moments with a man whose entire character concept is that he's from a family of incredible superspies but he was like "no dad... that was your dream!" and ran away to join the theater.
#rimi talks#miles duncan is an icon for gay theater kids everywhere.#AND DOUBLESTEEL IS REAL. I KNOW THEY ARE IN LOVE#like they've got the homoeroticisms. the spy flick type cheese. AND some crazy levels of trust and devotion#like okay!!!!!!! fuck man im sold#everyone should read steel (1994) and join me aboard the good ship doublesteel.#john henry#miles duncan
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I just have this HC that the Batch as a whole have terrible self-care until they get Echo, and he slowly forces them to fix it.
#sw tbb#the bad batch#star wars#tcw echo#tcw tech#tcw crosshair#tcw hunter#tcw wrecker#Echo is appalled at his new siblings' lack of self care#or just sleep#and he is determined to fix it#He seems to be me like the passive-aggressive take-care-of-you type#Like he'd berate you for not taking care of yourself and being an idiot while making you a perfect grilled cheese and tucking you into bed#Hunter is unsure how to handle this and at some point he just surrenders to his new brother's insistence#Tech is annoyed by it and Wrecker loves it#Crosshair escapes briefly only to be hauled back by an irritated Echo: “Come back so I can FORCE you to take care of yourself!”
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It came to me in a vision.
#joshua gillespie#Tma memes#tma shitpost#Tma#the magnus archives#the magnus archives memes#shit post#It was 2:10 in the morning when I made this#Decisions were made#none of them good#magnus archives#oh boy am I hungry#I need me some chilli flavored ramen#And a Gatorade#Love me some electrolytes#CHEESE#now that sounds delicious#Anywho#Uhhh#the buried
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life is short post willace were-rabbit angst on main
#FOUR POSTS IN ONE DAY i was so scared i would forget to post some art if i didn’t do it Now#ANYWAY. let me explain this comic#first off i hc wallace still transforms every full moon bc he deserves it. as a treat#and he just has a big ankle chain in his basement lol so he doesn’t go on a rampage and cause a ruckus#and they think willard oughta know about this sooner or later so gromit takes him down to meet were-wallace on a full moon#and willard just gets overwhelmed. it’s a lot to process and the newness of the situation makes him extremely anxious so he freaks out#he feels bad about it the next day bc ultimately he doesn’t give af if his bf transforms into a giant rabbit monster on the regular#but it was just a LOT to process at once and i think wallace would understand sndfwuhilvwirughth#WHATEVER MAN I JUST THINK THEYRE NEAT#apple pie with cheese#no id#giddly’s art#chicken run#wallace & gromit#willard tweedy#cotwr#were-wallace#between me and pant-eater we have drawn so many comics where willard ugly cries HSJSHDBSJSJ#what can i say. i love me a sopping wet paper bag of a man 🫡
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THIS AND SOME PREMARITAL
#extramarital if you wanna get technical#goddd that post spoke to me I love chili cheese dawgs#I even got some french fried jalapeños :3#so happieeee#food#op
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Drawing for @lapoiseveamel683 of their fnaf sb OC Selena🐆💕 Thank you!
#commissions#my commissions#fanart#fnaf security breach#not my oc#shes so prettyyyy#have i mentioned i love fnaf?#fnaf gives me so much nostalgia feelings#i wish it was a thing when i was much younger#also the pizzaplex on security breach#the building is SO DOPE#id legit be there almost every week if it actually existed#also im jealous of people who have chucky cheese where they live :[[[#that place looks rad#tho im big sad that they replaced their animatronics with people in mascot suits#like idk it kinda removes the magic knowing that theres just some random person inside trying to act all jolly and stuff to appeal to kids#liek i wan cool animatronics thats what maked that place UNIQUE#ok ok i stop yapping lol
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I love your art.
WAAAAH THANK YOU T_T T_T i hand you silly art as thanks
#and thanks to everyone smacking the fuck out of me today#except why are some of them evil.#i dont think i can boop back from a side blog so some random guy probably got you back#n sorry for answering these a few days late T_T thank u... makes my heart happy... i will draw more finished art soon !#semester almost clear ! freedom soon!#ask#anon#thanku. wah. i love this compliment ive gotten a lot of 'eating your art' and it cheeses me every time. you cant eat that silly goose...
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every day i wake up for another 13 hour shift of Beating The Gravity Falls Fandom Over The Head With A Shovel Until Y’all Realize That Ford Writing “F” Instead Of “Fiddleford” Is Not An Act Of Malice Or Unkindness He’s Just A Nerd And Thinks It’s Cool
#listen i am all for picking apart and analyzing the most minor of details#but the way this fandom interprets /EVERYTHING/ as some kind of moral failing on ford’s part drives me up the goddamn WALL#like genuinely look me in the eyes and tell me which one you think is more likely.#‘ford writes fidds’ name as f because he doesn’t truly care about his one friend who he’s written extensively about how much he loves’ or#‘ford is a dork and thinks using initials instead of full names is Cool and Mysterious’#i am going to kill you with hammers#anyways i’m normal !!!!!!!!!!! normal saturday !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i ate a burrito with Extra Cheese and it was very good :)#gravity falls#gf ford#grunkle ford#ford gravity falls#ford gf#stanford gravity falls#gf stanford#gravity falls stanford#stanford pines#twoa.txt
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(throws this meme at you and scurries away)
#i would love to doodle more shenanigans for yall#or at least maybe fix up some old stuff?#would yall want crusty sketches???#mainly i want to get back into the swing of things with fnaf and my fics. im so swamped with school but i still wanna#maybe i'll draw stuff for my finished fics while i work on the others#maybe some lil sneaky peeks from the in progress ones..#anyway enough rambling from me. very tired so bedtime soon#fnaf sb#queue cheese please#eyndr does art#fnaf dca#fnaf sun#sundrop#oc griseus#self insert character#oh yeah my little self insert persona demon guy has a name finally djghfdgj its griseus#so now i can at last stop saying 'self insert persona demon guy'
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Thinking about how spicy noodles will heal me
#meg is rambling#love spicy noodles...... i should go get some.........#maybe some cream cheese too.....#I'm feeling a cold coming on so. i feel that noodles and soup are gonna be comminplace for me for the foreseeable#my throat has been sore since last night and. at least they'd be easy to eat.
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