#wiggly wednesday

[fuckyouclivesdale]

Happy Wiggly Wednesday!

[meirimerens]

waltz footwork

[maxbanshees]

snake pile

[pearl-kite]

WIP Wednesdayhenever

Tagged by @mihqorio and @ejunkiet recently but I have that terrible habit of hyperfocusing on a thing til it's done and having no wip, BUT my head hurts so have some Gale while I take a break

had an idea that I'm not sure I'll pull off to the standards I wanted BUT the upside is it'll at least be something that isn't same old same old, so it'll be a win either way o3o

I'm not sure who has and hasn't been tagged lately, so I think I'm going to refrain from passing it along except for those of you reading this that need an excuse. You're tagged if you need an excuse. Show me ur art or writing pls

[vulperagirlears]

[diamondnokouzai]

its always funny to see trans pride pics because mtf pride is 40 or 50 of the most beautiful women youve ever seen, all of them dressed to the nines and some wearing ball gowns. and then ftm pride is like We have 16 guys named greg here dressed the way youd think a greg would dress. half of us are wearing socks and sandals.

[albeckett]

Por eso estamos aquí, tratando que se muevan éstos pies Bajo la luz, tocando hasta el amanecer No te quedés en casa porque el baile va a empezar Quiero verte, verte otra vez

[shell-caster]

[notanerdyprude]

tinky is wigglys test subject for methods of torture on the hatchetfield residents. tinky is very proud of this. wednesday and pugsley coded ass.

[nightengaleneedles]

Wiggly Worm Wednesday! Our plush worms on a string (squirmles if you're nasty) are downright enormous!

[fuckyouclivesdale]

Happy Wiggly Wednesday!

[meirimerens]

I need you to know my friend and I have completely changed our dialogue because you make us laugh so much. We're constantly saying "do you promise?" And "(verb) him on the (alliterative location) (alliterative day) (it's (new day)) it's (same format new alliteration)" and "I'm very complex" ALL the time. We owe you our lives.

being 💯 with you all these phrases i have stolen (nyeh heh heh) because they did make me laugh first However very #glad and #proud to share the sillies they're very important to me. i'm also particularly a fan of "(verb) him on the (alliterative location) (alliterative day) (it's (new day)) it's (same format new alliteration)" as i use it a lot. & while the "i'm very complex" dog image existed before i got my little rat hands on it, i'm very, VERY proud of the edit i've made of it and keep fucking using everytime it's warranted. and darling. it's warranted often 😏 also here's another edit of the edit because guess what mimi. i am not drawing 💯

[streaminn]

Enid: only love poisoned peanut butter cup 🥰🥰

(i couldn't remember how to spell poison 😭😭)

Enid, cradling Wednesday's face: my deadly poisonous squiggly wiggly dear <3

Wednesday, baffled yet overwhelmed by the affection: what

[carolrain]

Neither WIP nor Wednesday

Oh, @jamilas-pen thank you for tagging me in your non-Wednesday non-writing WIP post, which is exactly the kind of post I can do. And thank you to @mammameesh @a-noble-dragon @mostlyinthemorning @leofdaeg-sand and @ramonaflow who are also in my recent mentions.

Like @jamilas-pen I have been working in the yard. In January, an ice storm took out one of my trees (a hawthorn) and last weekend I planted a new one (a cherry).

This is the "before" view. The "after" is still currently kind of scrawny, unphotogenic, and surrounded by dirt and dandelions. You can just imagine it. It's about as tall as I am, if that helps.

And yesterday, my kid and I made doughnuts for the first time (recipe here). They're apple.

And I have written a little, but I regret to tell you it's a couple of thousand words about a dying cat. It has an audience of zero and is, for reasons unknown, in second person. Here is a little excerpt (feel free to skip it!):

But it doesn’t seem like he’s better now. You hold him like a baby. He has always loved that. Now that he has one fewer front legs, he fits even more snugly against your chest. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rest your hand on his back. He weighs about as much as your daughter did when she came home from the NICU. You remember how she felt in the same spot—her curled up legs pressing against you, her diapered butt in your palm. Her oxygen tubes got in the way, though, and she was wiggly and restless. He is a better cuddler.

Here is the cat in happier days. His name was Tristan, and I miss him lots.

If anyone wants to jump in with cooking, crafts, gardening, or some other kind of work, please do! Also, everyone go look at @jamilas-pen's pretty flowers.

[anarcho-skamunist]

Wiggly ass Wednesday! come to my twitch channel twitch.tv/necromancelena today at 5:00 PM EST. do it for booty doomguy.

[bropunzeling]

i told myself if i worked on my wip for 20 minutes i could post a wip wednesday snippet so here is said snippet:

The thing is—of course Leon is trying. Of course he is. Going into November with a losing record has never felt good. Not before, not now. So yeah, he’s gonna do what he needs to do in order to turn things around. Check in with Tkachuk when they get slotted on the same line at practice and bounce ideas back and forth, same as he does with whoever’s playing next to him. Just like how he’s trying to talk to the rest of the guys, when he has reason to—a note for Dunn about the penalty kill, a chirp for Gru when he gets a pretty goal past him. He’s slowly getting names and faces down. Getting used to who he sees on the ice.

Doesn’t mean he’s ready for it when he smacks straight into Tkachuk’s chest while taking Bowie out for a pre-practice walk.

“Oh, shit—Drai?”

Tkachuk’s the first to recover, taking a step back and looking Leon over with undisguised surprise. Leon, for his part, immediately wishes he was somewhere else entirely. Or that Tkachuk was somewhere else entirely. Specifically, somewhere where he couldn’t see Leon right now, standing in the middle of the sidewalk in compression leggings and a bright orange raincoat he got from the REI downtown after a week of his old jacket getting soaked through, Bowie circling his feet and yapping excitedly in his own doggy raincoat.

“Uh,” Leon says when the silence has gone on too long. For something to do, he reaches down and scoops Bowie up, which doesn’t do much to quiet down the yapping. “Hi.”

Tkachuk blinks. “Hi,” he says. He looks around the spot where they’re both standing, a corner halfway between Leon’s condo and the street with all the coffee places that Leon still hasn’t gone to. “What are you doing here?”

Leon jingles Bowie’s leash.

Tkachuk laughs. Honestly, a pretty nice laugh, when it’s not coming after he’s scored on Leon’s team. “Stupid question,” he says. “So this is Bowie? Hi buddy,” he continues, leaning in and scratching Bowie under his chin. Bowie, the traitor, leans right into it. “Man, he’s cute.”

“He is,” Leon says, shifting Bowie up higher in his arms, just knowing he’s getting mud and decaying leaves all over his front. He feels compelled to add, before he sounds too soppy, “Also needy. And not very smart.”

“Hey now,” Tkachuk says. He’s still petting Bowie under the chin, leaving Leon to get smacked in the arm by wiggly paws, Bowie’s tail thumping in obvious ecstasy. “Doesn’t mean he’s not perfect. Aren’t you, little guy?” Bowie licks his finger. “Oof, that was cold.” Tkachuk grins over Bowie’s head at Leon, looking up under his lashes, dimples punched into his cheek. Leon can feel his own grin getting dragged across his face against his will.