#silly lil dudes

[cable-salamdr]

Haha chat guess who got attached to these two dumbasses after 5 second of consideration that I don’t know how to draw dragons and deciding that that won’t stop me

(Ignore that I forgot to draw wings on baby-thems and the fact that I drew Egalt’s horns wrong. Also my hc of some dragon species having quite different scale colors as younglings (usually more dull for better camouflage), kinda like birds, is very evident here)

[kirkybabygo]

This picture was in my Revolver Magazine Spring 2023 Metallica Issue I ordered back in April. It made me so happy because I’ve never seen it before! Thought I’d share it along with an excerpt from the article interview with Lars 🤍

Interviewer (J. Bennett): Some of those shows [M72 tour] will be with Pantera. You’ve known them since they were playing clubs, before Philip Anselmo was even in the band, haven’t you?

Lars: We met the brothers [Dimebag and Vinnie Paul] on the Ride the Lightning tour and became friends with them. This was in Dallas in - what - 1622 or something? It was about 400 years ago. [Laughs] We obviously loved both of them, and they had a posse down there, and we would see them whenever we came through Texas. We watched the band evolve over the years from more rock vibes into that creative, unique force that they became. So we’ve had a relationship with them for decades and decades, yeah.

[stick-by-me]

These bears are best buds :]

New follower sticker for: @frootsnak!

[kxllboii]

Posting this because I said so

[chelsiegeorgia]

leaked dialogue for sonic 3 surely

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa sucks at “flirting” with Mike

[vividdreamsrock]

ISOPODS!!!!

[stevebabey]

you're the only one for me, baby

1.7k, steddie, one of them getting so drunk that they don't recognise the other and telling them back off i've already got a boyfriend, it's all sweetness <3 likely a modern!au and actually just goobers in love

Eddie doesn't really drink. He's not against partying but he's much more attuned to smoking a little weed to take the edge off, sometimes a spliff if he wants to mix a little business and pleasure.

Eddie doesn't really drink—so when he does, it goes about as well as expected.

From zero to a hundred.

Steve had lost track of him after directing his stumbling feet towards the bathroom to take a leak. But apparently, as he's now found out, this bathroom has two doors.

What the fuck kind of bathroom has two doors, like some weird thoroughfare?

Regardless, it took all of five minutes with no noises coming from the inside before Steve had loudly announced he was coming in, no matter what, getting quite worried for his boyfriend.

He trusted Eddie to not be too sloshed to handle a piss, even if he was on the wilder side tonight, but still leaned up against the door to chase off anyone else looking to knock—because Eddie hilariously gets pee-shy.

The door had opened easily, apparently unlocked, and Steve had stepped into the empty bathroom. The other door across the room, the one he hadn't noticed until now, was wide open to the party.

So, now he's on the hunt for Eddie.

Which is a task that feels a little bit like herding cats because drunk Eddie isn't something Steve has a lot of experience with. But what he does know, is this: it's the opposite of high Eddie.

Stoned, Eddie likes to find the comfiest place he can (usually Steve's lap, or so he proclaims) and sink into it, like melting wax. Then, given he has access to adequate snacks, he doesn't move for quite some time.

Drunken Eddie cannot even fathom the concept of sitting still.

Either way, looking where there's food is a good as a place to start as any.

Steve ambles out the strange two-doored bathroom and flips his head back and forth, trying to remember the direction of the kitchen. He hasn't been here before—one of Eddie's band connections—and Steve's still had a couple beers himself.

He shakes his head and takes a left, relieved when it leads to the stairs. Okay, he sort of knows where he's going now. They had only come upstairs to find the quieter bathroom for Eddie.

As Steve reaches the bottom of the stairs, a faint stir of irritation flashes through him. Eddie just left him behind? That wasn't that nice, even if he was incredibly drunk.

He can hear the din of people chattering just above the music and he follows it, leading him into the half-full kitchen, people dotted around. There's a few pizza boxes scattered around and Steve eyes each of them specifically, looking for the tell-tale wipe of Eddie's greasy fingers. No dice.

Steve wrinkles his nose, spinning around and double checking before he moves on.

If not by the food, then... where?

Steve takes a few steps forward into the living room, his heart beginning to sink and shrivel all at once. There was a miserable feeling attached to looking for his partners at a party, a wallowing and awful memory tied to the feeling.

Steve pushes a hand across his chest roughly, as if trying to shove the feeling away.

Eddie wasn't... her. Eddie wouldn't do that.

But the moment he's thought it, it's stuck in his head. Steve's feet begin to speed up, checking a little more carelessly as he starts to stick his head in different rooms, his hazel eyes jumping around. Not Eddie, not Eddie, not Eddie—so many people and none of them are Eddie.

Until—there. Steve spots a very familiar looking behind as it leans over the back of the couch, the owner of said-behind talking to someone sitting on the couch.

He blinks, just to be sure, but the details come into better focus. There's chains on his belt loops and when he shakes his head, Steve can see the curls he loves to bury his hands into.

Eddie.

Steve's relief pulls him forward, his feet almost stumbling, his mouth pulling into a relieved smile. He puts a hand out, fingers spread, across the leather-clad back.

"Eds," Steve says, relief colouring his voice.

Eddie swings up abruptly, pushing himself off the couch. When he turns, a bit of liquid sloshes out of the beer bottle he's holding.

"Heyyy," The words come out a bit slurred and when he finally stands straight, he doesn't look right at Steve. "Handsssss off the merchandise, buddy."

Steve chuckles, reaching out and plucking the bottle from his boyfriend's grasp. Eddie gawps, an adorable little hiccup interrupting his shocked expression.

"Hey," He says loudly, reaching forward for it fruitlessly as Steve pulls it out reach. "That's mine." Eddie whines.

"You've had more than enough, I think." Steve says. He steals just one gulp of it before he turns at puts it on a nearby table. When he turns back, Eddie is frowning at him, brows pulled together tightly and bottom lip jutting out.

"Listen—" Eddie leans forward, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. "I dunnowhoyouthinkyouare," The words come out in a one big jumble and Steve frowns.

What? Something sour claws into Steve's chest at the frosty greeting.

"Eddie," Steve says, his hazel eyes wide and worried as his gaze darts between Eddie's squinted face and swaying form.

Steve reaches out to put a hand on his waist, aiming to steady him, but Eddie sees it coming and widens his eyes comically. He swerves back to avoid it, his boots tilting dangerously on the wooden floors. If he was still holding his beer, Steve bets half of it would be on the floor by now.

"Wo-oah," Eddie exaggerates, waving a hand out and batting Steve's outstretched arm away. The rottenness in Steve's chest blooms, rancid and freezing. He sucks in a sharp breath.

"Ed—"

"I—" Eddie says, holding up his hand and waggling one finger at Steve, like he's a naughty schoolboy. His words still have that drunken slur to them.

"—already have a boyfriend, thank you very much. He's much too pretty to be throwing it away for the likes of you, you weasel of a man..." His ludicrous and nonsensical insult trails off under his breath as Eddie's attention is drawn away by a shout across the room.

As he watches Eddie drape himself back over the couch, the sourness between Steve's ribs shifts, transforming into something infinitely sweeter. He lets out a dazed laugh, a wild smile spreading on his face before he can smother it beneath his hand.

I'm dating a lunatic, Steve thinks happily.

He reaches out and steals Eddie's beer once more, taking another large swig before giving it another go.

This time, he sidles up beside Eddie who's engaged back in conversation with one of the guys on the couch, and just waits. It only takes a minute before the dude on the couch seems to realise who Steve's waiting for and he nudges Eddie, gesturing behind him.

Eddie, still bent over the back of the couch, twists only his head to look. This time, the recognition is immediate.

He springs up, pushing the couch forward an inch in his excitement and leaps forward, his hands clawing into Steve's shoulder with a fierce delight.

"Steeeeve," Eddie croons, crowding in close. His hands start moving, fingers searching like curious spiders, fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin of Steve's neck til he's squirming back, laughter betraying him.

"Stop it." He laughs. Steve arrests Eddie's wrists in his hand and Eddie cackles, using the pause to surge forward, kissing him square on the mouth.

Eddie tastes like the beer he's been drinking and Steve barely gets a moment to enjoy it before Eddie's pulling back, leaning forward so they're forehead to forehead.

"I was looking for you." Eddie says, his doe eyes wide. His pupils grow larger the longer he stares at Steve.

Steve grins. "Uh huh. Looking for me between the couch cushions, were you?"

Eddie rears back, his head flipping as he stares back at the couch and then back at Steve. "Nuh uh. I came out the bathroom and you were goooone."

That explains it. Eddie must have left out the other door — and then thought Steve had left him behind and gone hunting for him. Something else settles in Steve's chest, relieved.

"And—" Eddie hiccups. "—and some guy tried to- to freakin' flirt with me. Can you believeee?"

Steve's grin widens by a mile. "Is that so? What you'd tell him?"

"No, of course!" Eddie says, head pulled back as if he's appalled Steve would think otherwise. He shakes his hands out of Steve's grip and drops them, fumbling for a moment to get his fingers into Steve's belt loops.

When he does, he yanks Steve forward a tad too forcefully, their bodies colliding in a way that's more sore than sexy. Eddie continues on as if he doesn't notice. "Even if he was particularly tasty," He murmurs, his lips tracing the column of Steve's throat.

"I let him know, baby." Eddie all but purrs.

And perhaps if the competition Eddie was beating off was literally anyone other than himself, Steve would be right there with him.

Instead, he can't contain his snort of laughter. Eddie was perfect; he was a possessive and drunken dog, barking up the wrong damn tree. Steve loves him.

"You're laughing," Eddie states plainly, even as his doe eyes manage to grow even more round. Steve can't help it, it just makes him laugh more.

"Treason." Eddie declares. Then using the belt loops to keep Steve captive, he leans in and blows a raspberry on his neck.

Steve lets out an unattractive squawk, his laughter melting into Eddie's as he pushes his boyfriend's face away — to which Eddie simply lets himself go limp, his face cradled and held up solely by Steve's hands.

"Christ," Steve says between his laughs, shifting his hand to hold him more tenderly. Eddie smiles dopely, then puckers his lips and closes his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes, entirely too endeared. "Alright, c'mere," He gives in, leaning and kissing Eddie, short and sweet. When he pulls back, Eddie's eyes are open, starry and gazing up at him. He gives a dreamy sounding sigh. Steve's heart fizzles, like it's full of pop-rocks.

"Ready to go?"

"As long as it's with you, baby." Eddie says, sounding every bit like he means it.

[pjs-everyday]

izuku ♡⊹₊ ⋆ izuku??? izukuuu!!!! izuku?! // expression practice, who's next? ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

[leeleesart]

the S on his shirt stands for "silly"

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dk why but im thinkin about shoto w a sweet tooth who follows you and hangs around the kitchen waiting for the cookies you made to finish baking while staring at the oven like a kid, soooooo.. (shoto might be a bit ooc, slight super small pinch of angst but super fluffy as usual ! gn reader, mentions of food, lemme know if i missed sum else ! <3)

"sho.." shoto hums in response, eyes fixed on the oven.

"the cookies aren't gonna bake faster if you stare at 'em."

you hold back a giggle when he slowly turns to look up at you from where he's crouched down on the floor. his eyes that were practically pasted to the oven widening the slightest bit like he'd been caught doing something bad. he blinks at you, then swiftly looks away.

"i'm just checking to make sure they don't burn." he explains. you don't know if you've seen him blink more than four times the entire time you've been staring at him staring at the chocolate chip marshmallow cookies you made together. (together meaning with him watching you most of the time and occasionally mixing. as much as you love your boyfriend, he should absolutely not be trusted around food.)

"that's what we have the timer for." you quip, leaning against the kitchen cupboard and crossing your arm with a smirk.

he looks up at you, then fixes the kitchen timer sitting on the stove with a little frown that you recognize as a pout, you huff out a light laugh at his cute expression. from his miniscule facial expressions you can see he's a little embarrassed at the fact you'd outsmarted him. he turns to look at the cookies again.

"i can see when they're done baking better from here. faster than the timer can."

"oh yeah ?"

he nods "very clearly."

you snort. after looking at him for a while longer you sigh to get his attention. it works immediately and he looks up at you, eyes occasionaly trailing back to the oven towards the cookies as he waits to hear what you want.

you wordlessly spread your arms out, batting your eyelashes at him. he blinks, then a small smile grows on his handsome face in realization. he slowly walks over to you before pulling you into a comfortable hug, he huffs out a chuckle when you squeeze his waist.

shoto buries his head into your shoulder, right into the crook of your neck, and breathes you in. he’s had a habit of doing that often—if not every time you hug—and you don’t really know why he does, but you definitely don’t mind.

"you could've just told me that you wanted to try the cookies first." you tease, giggling when he huffs against your shoulder. he turns his head to speak against your neck.

"that wasn't my intention." he mumbles weakly, nosing at your neck when you scoff out a laugh.

"right. that's why you were practically glued to the oven mere seconds ago."

"i did no such thing."

"don't lie !" you reprimand, tugging at his hair lightly in joking punishment "you're not getting any cookies if you do." you hear him huff and feel a slight smirk growing against you.

"i..may have been surveying them rather closely—"

"very closely."

"—but it was simply to check." he finishes, ignoring your comment. shoto noses at your shoulder and sighs "i felt like even though you wanted to make the cookies together, i was barely able to help you with anything.." he trails off. your eyebrows furrow, and you try pull shoto out of the nest he's made for himself inside your shoulder, but shoto could be extremely stubborn when he wanted to be. his arms tighten around your waist and he his hair tickles against your cheek when he tries to shove his head inside your shoulder somehow.

you sigh, giving up your attempts to get him to look at you and simply settle on running your fingers through his hair, soothing him as he sighs contently. "sho, you helped me out lots. you always took over for me when i didn't feel like mixing anymore and helped me out with those big strong arms of yours." you feel him smile against you and your smile grows mirroring his.

" but i really wanted to help you out more, i know i'm not really good at this.." he mutters sadly, a frown grows on his face and you feel the corners of your mouth turn down as well.

"but you're real good at a lot of other things ! i'm not great at everything either." you reason, absentmindeldly twirling a strand of his hair around your finger "but i could teach you some tips and tricks, if you want."

he looks up at you at that, the smile growing on his face makes your heart race. "really ? i might be a little hard to manage." he jests, running his hands up and down your sides. his eyes brighten the more he looks at you and you're 100% sure you mirror his expression when you throw him a smug smirk.

"don't you underestimate me, mr todoroki ! you're nothing compared to what i've dealt with before."

"oh ?" he hums, lifting a brow. you nod and his smiles grows " and what, if i may ask, have you dealt with before ?" he challenges.

"that is classified information that i cannot disclose. you're just gonna have to trust me." you shoot back and press your finger to his lips, snickering when his eyes widen a fraction before he looks down at you playfully. he takes hold of your hand and presses a kiss to each of your fingertips, making fireworks go off inside your stomach.

"well then," he presses a final lingering kiss to the back of your hand with a run of his thumb against your skin. his eyes glow with mischief when he looks at you.

"i'm in your care."

[mushtoons]

doodled a lil guy

[joznii]

sven is not living his best life (skill issue)

[hwamphwamp]

i wished for you // choi jongho

a/n: meant to write a little something for Jongho's birthday and wouldn't you know it, I forgot every time I thought about it. I wrote this sappy shit while taking one of the longest baths of my life today so enjoy!

genre: fluff

word count: 848

warnings: none really outside of the mention of alcohol/being drunk? a little lovesick bullshit here?? a little self-indulgent fluff there???

———————————————————————————

It wasn’t uncommon for you to return home from work to find a voicemail from Jongho waiting for you. In fact, the two of you had been engaged in a playful game of voicemail tag for the past week and a half, navigating the challenges of time differences and your hectic schedules. Yet, even though you would have preferred to hear his voice directly, there was something comforting about receiving those little snippets of him—like a sweet surprise at the end of a long, dreary day.

Most of his voicemails were usually straightforward—brief updates about his day, questions about yours, the usual exchanges that kept you connected across the miles. But tonight’s voicemail was much different.

“Ok, so I know we just got to the point of saying ‘I love you’ recently,” he began, a playful tone to his voice as though he was already aware of how this might sound. "So I hope this doesn’t freak you out, but I’m a weeeee bit drunk." You could picture him grinning sheepishly, the way he always did when he was nervous or about to say something he thought might make you laugh. He continued, “And when the guys had me blow out the candles on my cake tonight, I wished for you."

You paused when you heard those words. "I wished for you." It sounded so simple, but it carried a weight you weren’t expecting. He already had you—what more could he wish for? The thought lingered for a moment before he quickly clarified, his tone a little softer now, a touch more serious.

"Not like... I didn't actually wish FOR you. I already have you, duh." You couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the playful roll of his eyes as he said it. "But I wished for you to always be with me, which is so stupid because I know you could never just drop everything and run around the world with me." His voice dipped slightly, as if he was wrestling with the reality of the situation, acknowledging how far-fetched his wish really was. And yet, there was something so genuine about the way he said it, something so heartfelt that it made your chest tighten.

He paused for a moment, as though he was trying to gather his thoughts or maybe second-guessing whether he should keep going, but then he pushed on. “But still, I wished that by some miracle we could just be alone together for the rest of our lives.”

That’s when the weight of his words really sank in. He wasn’t just talking about wanting you by his side during the fun, easy moments. He was talking about the kind of deep, unwavering connection where nothing—no job, no obligation, no distance—could ever come between you. It was the kind of wish you made when you’re so completely in love with someone that you can’t imagine a life without them.

In his slightly tipsy, vulnerable state, he was letting you in on something raw and real: the dream of having you all to himself, of being able to live in a world where it was just the two of you, free from the chaos of everyday life. It was the kind of wish that, while impossible, was filled with so much love and longing that it made your heart ache a little. He knew it wasn’t realistic���he even said so—but that didn’t stop him from wishing for it anyway. There was something achingly romantic about that.

Then came the part that made you smile the most: “Did that make sense?” You could practically hear him blushing on the other end of the line, embarrassed by how open he had just been, how he had let his guard down completely. And before you could even process everything he’d said, he wrapped it up with a quick, “It’s ok, love you, goodnight,” like he needed to get the last few words out before his courage faded.

That voicemail—just a simple, drunken message—felt like you were getting to peek through a window that lead straight to his heart. It wasn’t just about the words “I love you” that you’d both recently started saying; it was about the kind of love that made him wish, without hesitation, that you could always be together. His wish wasn’t about material things or fleeting moments. It was about living a life where it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Sure, he laughed it off a bit, tried to make it seem like it was no big deal, but you knew better. There was something so sincere, so deeply affectionate in his words that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as you listened. It wasn’t just the alcohol talking—this was him, unfiltered, admitting that he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, and wishing that somehow, you’d never have to be apart.

No matter what, you were determined to make his birthday wish a reality. After all, it was your wish too, and you’d tell him that as soon as his hangover subsided the next day.

[dotted-clouds]

more stupid shit

[ahllohehn]

you should make a master post for the au, if you want of course. i would really like some kind of guide beacuse this au is gorgeous but also kinda confusing (for me at least)

I haven't really revealed much since I only show what is asked of in my inbox, so I don't think I'll make a master post for now.

But if you want a summary of everything I've currently shown, here's a half-assed guide:

CAMP HERMITCRAFT:

Mumbo -> Hephaestus Cabin

Grian -> Cabin Counsellor of Hermes Cabin

Pearl -> Hunters of Artemis (Formerly Hermes Cabin)

Scar -> Unclaimed (He prays to the gods everyday to not claim him so he could always cabin with Grian)

Gem -> Mortal, Current Oracle of Delphi

Cleo -> Cabin Counsellor of Hebe Cabin

Doc -> Pan, Satyr (The one who took Scar to camp)

Etho -> Cabin Counsellor of Hades Cabin, Legacy of Hephaestus

Bdubs -> Cabin Counsellor of Demeter Cabin, Legacy of Hypnos

Stress -> Iris Cabin

CAMP EMPIRES:

Joel -> Mercury/Hermes

Jimmy -> Mercury/Hermes