#this was so fun i love how

[brainrotcharacters]

When irl pisses me off, I rewatch the Honda Odyssey scene to relax

[hiding-under-the-willow]

Quite possibly the funniest shit I have ever seen in my life

[thirdtimed]

beautiful grianful world.. links to all the artists' profiles under the cut :D

linktoo-doodles

jellitchi

avo0930

alienssstufff

cherrifire

grianhate

luniise

tibbycaps

skimmeh

pippeinnit

i linked everyones tumblrs if they had one, otherwise it leads to twitter!

[soranker]

98 lovemail doodles >_<

[anna-scribbles]

adrien in my outfit from a few days ago✨ feat. my claws out converse

bonus:

[ear-motif]

fanfic is so good bc the premise of some genres of fic are just inherently funny. I want these two grizzled crime drama protagonists to have some fucking fun for once, so they go to a water park. I dont care how i have to logic my way into them going there i dont care who has to drag them Theyre Going

[juha-art]

THE NEXT WORLD MURAL

text is from this post by @even-disco-baby <3

mural is inspired by 'the kiss' by hayez

[crowkip]

ᯓ★

[rrat-king]

i really will say my favorite thing about this season is just the fact that the cast cannot stop laughing. everything alex says has ally or izzy screaming. honestly ally is dying at everything. the amount of breaks they have to take just to laugh and play and have bits it’s just. god it’s so fun!! they are so good at what they do that they make their friends scream laughing i just. what a wonderful season and we’re only two episodes in

[egophiliac]

tsum events really are just the best, huh

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike meets Jeremy Fitzgerald

[hinamie]

spiraling

[liimonadas]

i blacked out and suddenly theres 4 edgeworths on the canvas

bonus design notes edition

[dangernoodley]

Etho base.

Edit: the background to anyone who wants it for some reason

[wishing-well-art]

My piece for the @trafficzine 5th edition! It was such an honor to have my piece alongside so many other amazing artists in this fandom, and it's especially special since Secret Life was the first life series I watched!

I'm so proud of this piece, the mounders have my whole heart... See if you can name all the little mounders moments I put in the panels :]

Alternate versions and sketches below the cut!

Top two are sketches from when I was laying out how I wanted the final thing to look like, bottom left was the first draft of the piece until I decided I wanted more little references to other Mounder's moments across the piece, I still love it; and bottom right is the lined version of it when I was still struggling with color and figuring out how the sparkly parts were meant to look.

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.