#ughhghghghghgh

[scattered-winter]

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

I FINALLY HAVE SOME FREE TIME (it's not really free time I need to practice for a huge callback) AND EVERY DAY THAT I'VE SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN HOME ALONE SOMEONE ELSE IS HERE

[britishsass]

wanting to publish a story vs wanting to actually make sure it's good beforehand

fight

[yeyinde]

Outlaw!Price, the enigmatic leader of the notorious and deadly 141 gang, who stumbles upon you one evening near the stables (attempting to steal the mare he had his eyes on, no less) as you try to sneak out of the city (and away from the awful, awful man you're supposed to be married to in the morning), and decides to help you get away.

But if you think it's altruism that's making him lend a helping hand to a stranger, you're wrong. In this life, he knows it's kill or be killed.

And most importantly:

finders keepers.

“How's this,” he begins, and everything inside of you screams to run. “I'll accompany you across the desert. Get you somewhere safe.” 

“Out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure,” you sneer, edging backwards. “As if I'm dumb enough to believe that.”

“Can't leave a maiden—” your scathing hiss makes his lips twitch beneath the thick moustache; “—all on her own like that. I know these parts like the back of my hand. No harm will come to you. That, you have my word for.”

“And what's that worth?” 

He dips his chin. “Far more than you could imagine, love.” 

You swallow. “I don't know. I don't trust you—”

“Smart,” he nods, drops the cigar on the ground before snuffing the end out with the heel of his boot. “But I ain't very patient. Better make up your mind quickly.”

“Well, in that case—”

“But," he cuts your scoff off with a low hum. "I'll put it this way for you: do you want me to be the one to accompany you across the desert or the one they'll pay, handsomely, tomorrow morning to drag you back home, mm?”

“You scoundrel—! You dirty, rotten—”

“It's business, love.”

“I don't have any money to even pay you to—”

His eyes are searing when they catch on the threads of your lace collar, razing over exposed skin like he's owed the privilege. You've never seen such hunger on a man's face before.

Your skin prickles. Heart sinking low with each rasping sweep of his eyes across your body. It's as if you're meat. Something to be bartered with. Bargained.

The rasp in his voice makes you shiver. “You're a smart girl. I'm sure you can figure something out.”

“I—”

“I'll leave it to you, then, mm?” He starts forward, then, chin ducking low into his collar to stare down at you through the wide brim of his hat. Each thud of his boots echo against the floor in haunting harmony with the metal clink of his spurs. 

More of his bulk is revealed as he steps out from the shadows and into the pale moonlight, and somewhere in your chest, the air becomes trapped. 

He's huge. Bigger, now, where most of him blended in, almost seamlessly, into the shadows. A massive mountain of a man. 

His shoulders seem to stretch the fabric of his vest and waistcoat taut, pulling sharply on the straining threads. The heavy brown of his jacket sweeps down to midthigh, the seam tucked behind the leather holster of his gun tied tight at his waist. The brass buttons of his dress shirt crease against the pull of his broad chest and barrelled stomach. The softness around his midsection speaks almost highly of a luxurious lifestyle—pure hedonism. The sort ladies back home whisper about. Violence, women, and booze—ruffians, the lot of them! But it seems to belie the power in his gait. In the flex of his thick, corded thighs bunching in the tightness of his denim trousers and the leather caps covering them.

He has the walk of a bear. Lumbering, sloven. A touch clumsy. 

And yet—

The softness about him hides the raw strength under the thick pelt. Deadly. The slow, meandering trawl of a man who knows, unequivocally, that he needn’t run or rush anywhere. 

It lodges somewhere inside of you. This knowledge, this fact. He'll outpace you in spades. Catch up no matter where you flee to. 

Your stomach folds, looping over itself. It's nausea, maybe. And something else—

He's so big. Burly. Thickened like the strong trucks of ponderosa pine. A man cut from the wilderness; made in the likeness of the savagery of the wild. The brutality of the desert, of mother nature herself. Kin to the affinity this land seems to have in taking every ounce of a man and leaving him bereft in the face of the looming unknowns in the vast desert.

None of the men you've ever met before look like him. Grizzled. Hardened.

His scarred, tanned skin speaks of a life living outdoors. On a horse, on the run—hard work made with his bare hands. You think the softness, the callous-free palm that gripped your fingers tight in a vice, and can't help but to lean, just a little, into him. Drawn there, like a moth to a flame.

There's something about this man that makes you tremble. Something that curls inside of your guts. Something deeper, darker than fear. Primal. Animalistic. There must be something wrong with you, then. Most know to run from the predators—not move closer.

He comes to a halt less than an arm's length away from you, close enough that you can scent the heavy musk of him so thickly in your nose. Something purely masculine—loam, humus—and yet unfathomably different from the men you've known your whole life. Horse, and sweat. Sun. The headiness of riding nonstop through the sprawling deserts of New Mexico. Leather, and gunpowder. 

The novelty of it all is enough to make you dizzy. And, as if to reinforce it, he leans down, the brim of his hat narrowly missing your forehead, and he rasps, guttural and dark, 

“and I do expect to be paid back in full, love,” his voice is felled timber. Low, and firm. “Or you'll find you don't like the consequences very much. Am I clear?”

The unmistakable iron in it snags on the tendrils of your resolve, pulling messily at the threads. No escape. It winds tighter, tighter— 

Still. 

Your only other option is to stay here, and in the morning, marry a man who made it abundantly clear that the sole use he has for you is to rebrand a dwindling legacy (women ought to be seen, not heard, darlin’, and I think it's high time someone teach you that); or— 

Make off on your own. Through the unmapped, untamed wilderness of New Mexico with nothing for protection except whatever you could reasonably steal away with uninterrupted, which. Isn't much. Not only that—this man, this outlaw, had made it abundantly clear that there would be a bounty on you come sunrise. One he'd be most eager to fulfil. 

Rock, hard place. No escape. 

You steel yourself, grappling with trembling fingers against the dwindling options in front of you, and offer a slow, jerking nod. 

He heaves a breath in response. “Good choice, love.”

It doesn't feel very much like one. It doesn't feel very good at all, even. 

In this little stable just outside of town, you sell your soul to the devil in New Mexico while the cicadas in the background scream through the ink black night. The sounds they make seem to ask, 

what have you done?

[v0idfangz]

Catching My Tumblr Up To Speedᵀᴹ Part 4: i played octo expansion and IMMEDIATELY went to making some art of it. ughhghghghghgh its so good

also technically there was a few things before this but idk abt uploading my animations to here yet, & the other 2 drawings before this im not proud of and i think i coulda done better

(Original upload/creation date: September 11th, 2023)

[greenpanda-basicfakewitch]

good god guys I'm dying- Just did a word doc of a book of shows [99 pages woo] and my head is pounding.

I only had like a handful of stuff 'I' liked but thought since this is my research page might as well include EVERYTHING. Even stuff I have no interest in ughhhhhhhhhhh

I'm so burned out...and worse off...its only the writing from pinterest/internet with links. I have nineteen BOOKS I need to type up- [I cant type all of the books as that is plagirism but I have to write the book/chapter/page in case people online have it and I havn't even GOTTEN to that yet ughhghghghghgh]

I'm so burned out...

...I haven't even ILLUSTRATED and thought of how I'm going to plan how these pages will look and get this.

I need to do this THREE times. A real BOS and a fictional in world supernatural one that includes monsters. And have THREE styles.

An old passed down family coven book. A bullet journel type BOS And an art journel BOS

wait no four and a fake shitty BOS for the lulz ughghghg so many...things to do....aghghghg

[magiaesabiduriaxx]

@fxntasmagoria

Hearing that last sentence put a smile on her face and it could be heard in her voice. "Me too Hotch. I missed you." She admitted. She worried about him on a case much more than she let on but she really tried to keep it reigned in so she didnt add to his stress. "And just talking to me helps. I have another therapy session in the morning so between talking to you and her, i should be just fine." There was a slight hopeful sound in her voice at that.

She slid into her bed to talk to him with a soft sigh escaping her lips. If only he was there with her. "How did the case go?" She asked, knowing he had to be done with it if he was calling her. She wasnt too bothered by his not checking in with her. She knew at the end of the day he had a great team and he could handle himself. "Hopefully you arent too beat up from it." Though she would gladly offer to play nurse if he was but she never liked hearing he was hurt. "And thank you for calling by the way. I always automatically feel better when i hear your voice."

The change in her tone was almost instant and it made a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He’d originally called her because cases like the one that they just closed off always reminded him of her and, naturally, he became more protective of her after them though that wasn’t exactly something he could do anything about while they were over a thousand miles away. He nodded at the comment and began the slow process of dressing down for bed. “Good.” a small pause before he added, “I know I’ve told you this before but I am glad you decided to stick with the therapy this time around.” 

He tried not to be that person with her -- especially with what he did for a living, it was exhausting treating everything like a profile and, truthfully, the fact that she’d brought her dislike of being profiled to his attention helped him actively work on shutting it off. Clearly, the whole taking work home with him was not going to be okay with her and.. this time, he found he wanted to put in the effort. Perhaps it was also because he knew he was close to the end of his time at the bureau that he was wiling to give this a shot. 

Fingers worked his tie loose as he sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. “It was longer than any of us would have liked. But we arrested them and, frankly, I’m glad to be heading home in the morning.” He let out a small huff of air through his nose at her comment, shaking his head. “Not too much. One of the partners got in a few good blows but.. I think I’ll make it.” there was a grin on his face at that comment. Hotch put his shoes against the wall and held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he started working on his shirt. “I’m glad. I was.. in need of hearing yours.” and of making sure she was fine but that was obvious after the lack of greeting. 

[bloopsalot]

Academic papers are important and all but they are boriiiiing if you dont already know Academic Speak. 

I dont know Academic Speak.

theyre boring

[minijenn]

I love how Garnet spends the majority of Reformed being 100% done with Amethyst. And by love I mean, Garnet please be patient with her she’s trying 

[wordswithateez]

Winged!ATEEZ x Reader - Chapter 1 [Fantasy/College AU]

i had this idea for angel/winged!ateez (since we call them all demons anyway) and kinda spat this out on paper. lemme know what yall think and thank you in advance! (if the read more link doesn’t work again i’m sorry >< i’ll fix it)

[ CHAPTER ONE ] You never thought you’d receive a letter of acceptance into the University of Aerobic Arts and Physiology. And yet, here you were, wind buffeting your hair and snowy-checkered wings as you stood at the edge of the landing platform and stared out at the ocean before you. The waves hurled themselves over each other, foamy whitecaps almost spilling up over the platform. You winced and took a step back as the cold water splashed your sandals.

“You’ll do fine,” your mother said at your right. She smiled down at you, loving and proud. Her own black and white wings, almost identical to yours, shielded you both from the howling Pacific wind. “I believe in you. They accepted you for a reason. So go out there and show them they made the right decision.”

You smiled faintly to yourself at her words; she’d always been your #1 fan. “Thanks, mom.”

“I’ll accept your thanks when you get out there,” she said, nudging you forward. Her wingtips brushed against yours as you once again stood at the edge of the worn wooden platform. “Prove me right, y/n.”

You looked back at her, your hair curling and whipping in the wind, and gave her one last smile. “Okay.”

With that, you snapped open your wings and jumped into the sky.

The University of Aerobic Arts and Physiology was by far one of the most unique schools in the world. Built on the peak of a rock spire reaching thousands of feet above sea level, students were expected to fly miles from the American west coast into the middle of the Pacific in order to reach the campus itself, and that was only if you were accepted. You couldn’t help but wonder if your acceptance had been a mistake as you beat your wings against the updrafts, as you’d never considered yourself a particularly talented flier. Perhaps it was your wings themselves that got you accepted–owl wings were a rare occurrence, much less that of a snowy owl.

Your eyes flitted to the churning ocean below you. What if you never even made it to the campus? After all, the weather wasn’t sunny by any means, and even more clouds seemed to be rolling in from the south. You tilted your wings and looked back, but the landing platform, and more importantly, your mother, were already disappearing into the fog and sea smoke. You shook your head and continued on. This was your first test as a new student of the University, and you would not let your mother be proven wrong.

Time passed. How long had you been flying? Your wings ached, your lungs heaved, and your eyes were starting to burn from staring towards the sunset for so long.  Every once in a while, you’d spot a tiny rock outcropping protruding from the sea, and would stop to rest, but these were becoming fewer and fewer as you progressed. Or maybe you were just getting tireder. Not only that, but the clouds seemed to be getting darker and darker. They glared down at your wobbly shape, silently placing bets on your tenacity. Still, you surged ahead.

And then it started to rain.

Fat, wet droplets splattered on your wings, and despite your best attempts to stay warm, you felt the water soaking in and chilling you to the bone. The water weighed you down, and you struggled to stay aloft. At some point, you remember kicking off your sandals, as they’d become sopping wet bricks strapped to your feet. Lightning pierced your immediate vision more than once. Just find one more outcropping. You had to, though flying blind through the downpour was proving more than difficult. Lightning struck again and again, and with every strike, more and more of your resolve dripped away. Thunder rattled your body, and the campus still had not come into view. Or had it?

You squinted. Something had begun to tower in the distance. A large rock wall reared up out of the fog, and you beat your wings harder, desperate to reach reprieve. You blinked, trying hard to see, but your muscles were beginning to give out, and you were dropping altitude. Fast.

In a final attempt to avoid hitting the ocean, you banked your wings and dove straight for the bottom of the approaching cliff, and as you instinctively used your wings to protect you from the fall, the dust and battering rain vanished, and you fell, quickly and silently, into the comforting void of exhaustion.

Once again, time passed. The wind and rain fought over your crumpled shape, tearing away loose feathers and berating you senseless. You’d collapsed right before a large rock boulder, onto a bed of gravel and sand that stuck to your wet skin and flight tunic, and the ocean balked at your bare feet, only barely touching the tips of your toes. It was clear the storm was not intent on regressing any time soon, and you were too busy being unconscious to do anything about it. Only the will of God or the voice of a cute boy could bring you out of your slumber, and lo and behold, one did.

“He… Hello?!” the voice of a patrolling student pierced the rumble of the storm, one who’d found the sudden upheaval of gravel and sand rather odd. He banked his own large chocolate wings and soared closer, the heavy rain seemingly weightless on his limbs. “Is someone there?!”

No response. He dove closer. “Hello?!”

It didn’t take long for him to make out your shape on the rocky shore. He immediately went in to land, stumbling a little as he ran up to your limp body. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

You grit your teeth and groaned, trying to communicate to him that you were, in fact, alive. And yet, suddenly, you felt the ground drop out from under you. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You coughed as you suddenly felt yourself being lifted and secured in his arms, your wings tucked in as close as he could make them. Rain continued to whirl around the two of you, and you could barely make out his face as he looked up and spread his large brown wings. You tried to clear your vision, wondering who had come to your rescue.

“Who… are..?”

He glanced down at you, his brown eyes making contact with yours. “Choi Jongho. Now hold on tight, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

thanks for reading! we’ll see how long this one lasts hahaha 

comment if i should do more of this au because honestly i’m just taking shots in the dark here

[constantlyscreaminghere]

i miss having long hair and wigs are expensive ;n;

[juhaku-inspired]

hey! guess what! I’m scraping most of the chapters I’ve written for this story!

[lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently]

like i've told her what it is and she even said "oh that sounds like you" but i think she looks at mental illness like it's something you can get over? like one day i'm just gonna wake up and "get well?" fucking end me man she fucking HAS adhd but bc she can just drink too much soda and her shit calms down she expects everyone to be able to do that. ughhghghghghgh

i- bro what

okay listen child its not on you, you’re still fucking perfect (im tired im sorry)

ignore her, bc im proud of you asf

[total-metamorphosis]

This smol baby spent last night vomiting and unable to sleep. :(

I’m feeling a little better now but not 100%. I’m trying to drink water and get down some toast but it’s been tricky. I’m super tired...

[masterserris]

excuse my while i cry forever about dimitri and fe three houses it’s so good it hurts my soul

my poor kiddos ungjgnfdjgn

did i mention dimitri? he’s the bestest boy sorry i dont make the rules

also the ambient music gets so sad and depressing yet calm it uUBGBGH the MOOD of this game is gettin me good

very quiet cathedral and bell tones in the monastery gettin me GOOD in the later chapters UGHH

also dimitri and byleth’s dad and shit. like a lot of the characters just make u wanna protecc them even tho you know shit is only gettin worse GUHG

DIMITRI MY BOY BE SAFE ILY 

shit now he has more ptsd and anxiety AND depression ffs lemme PROTECC

like i know bad shit is gonna happen w him and it wont be his fault but also he’ll make bad choices and it’ll just get wooooorse ughhghghghghgh i wanna PROTECC MY BOY

dad byleth powers activate: operation, protecc the sonny boy dimitri

[xoexoxhoe]

OHMYGODJAJZKSKDKAKKSNDFIDNFK ASK ME ANYTHING IS SOOOO FREAKING GOOD PLS TELL ME THERE IS GONNA BE A PART 3! if not just know you are an amazing writer and you left me craving for more!!!!!!!

Bruhhhhhhhhhh!!! HONESTLY- MY CO AND I HAVE DEBATED THIS BECAUSE- WELL WOOSAN SZN lmao (and she wrote the latter of pt 2 and god I was dying too ughhghghghghgh). But hmmmm tis a possibility 😜But! we do have a lot of stuff lined up to release on the page! so maybe we’ll have a similar situation soon :) Thank you so much for your support and im so happy you love the writing! ❤️