A Masterpiece - Blog Posts
🐯🕒 in France
I finished it :) it's been fun
Omg this is amazing! I love this fckin gammee!!! 💜💜
I need a hobby,,,
study buddy
Title: study buddy
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Mandatory summer-school is torture. Adding you into the mix, however, makes it the kind of torture Eddie can see himself enduring.
Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Public Sex, Breeding, Recreational Drug Use
A/N: i started a new drabble series 👀 i tried to resist Eddie, and i just couldn’t 😮💨. the content ahead is inappropriate for minors, so Minors, DNI! hope you all enjoy 😏
How it started:
That fucking skirt.
Eddie narrows his eyes at it, his tongue pressing against his teeth as he fights not to say anything. It’s practically obscene how short it is—if you lived with your parents, surely they never would have let you out of the house in that fuckin’ thing, right? The denim cups the curve of your ass perfectly, like it was made to do just that. The hem is dangerously high, one wrong move would expose everything, right here in the goddamn Hawkins Memorial Library.
Keep reading
now this is what I call
A R T
Oops i sneezed, i'm so fucking sorry Idia
Idk why but i feel like idia has a little bit of hair underneath the fire but at the same time i feel like there's nothing
Just bawled my eyes out at the Barbie Movie
asfhkgj please tell me no one else has thought of this yet
“I’m malfoy. Draco malfoy. No need to ask your name. Acute angles, at 76 degrees…. You must be an icsoles.
oh wow okay was anyone going to tell me bad buddy was like THAT
Orchestra AU: After ten years apart, Rhaenyra Targaryen re-enters Alicent's life for a set of solo engagements with her orchestra. Things go about as well as expected (not very). fic link by @mitchelljoni
a lil' sth because I adore Jack ;-; | Sketch/redraw of a screenshot from one of the episodes ~
Aim For The Heart | Chapter 14: Beyond My Control
Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader
Genre: angst, fluff, romance, drama
WC: 8k
Warnings for this chapter: this chapter gets heavy guys! strong language, blood, minor character death, homicide, use of a gun, mentions of stalking, mentions of intended noncon, creeper being creepy af, insinuated past physical and emotional abuse, jungkook is a damned fool when it comes to feelings he is v confused give him a lil break tho 🥺, oc is too pure for this world, fluff that’ll kill you and bring you back to life simultaneously, Barbie slander 😤 jk has an epiphany
Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @kookiesxbananamilk @voidswan-recs @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @gaeguuliii @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat @ohyeahjk @steffiiirose @the-falling-star @telepathytae @erenkook
summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.
Previous > Next
Jungkook’s brain short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist and stuff your face into his shirt.
“Please-” You hiccup, “Please s-stay with m-me, Jungkook.”
He’s frozen, like a deer in the headlights.
You hug him tighter, rubbing your face into his t-shirt and wetting it with your tears.
Weiterlesen
don’t know if we can be friends || jjk
– summary: you fall in love with jeongguk, the boy who showed you the sun on a bleak, rainy day, but you weren’t sure if he wanted you.
– genre: high school, best friends to strangers to lovers, post (friendship) break up au. fluff & angst – warning: mentions of drugs, drinking, lots of clichés, lots of pining, jeongguk acts like an idiot, small mention(s) of baseball and harry potter (which i do not own), attempts of being funny.
– word count: 15,068
Weiterlesen
He literally scooped him up into that hug AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Mah bby got his happy ending !!!
from my sketchbook! it's a week's worth of doodles, when my classes are boooring hehe
GELKQGHQLFH THIS IS SO GOOD IT'S UNREAL i'm sobbing wtf TT
Everyone is so goddam talented and Ozma is so good; and Ozpin and the little Oscar at the end aaaaa
"There are approximately 1,010,300 words in the English language, but I could never string enough words together to properly express how much I -" LOVE THIS BLBLBL
Two dozen lovely artists juggled lost files, broken tablets, exam seasons and more to bring you this labor of love - a multi-artist picture music video about Ozma’s lives so far. I hope you enjoy watching as much as we all did making it!
@lutzsan / @grimmons / @whateverworkswithme / @kobatoo / @ ShadowDapple on Twitter / @starryeydsailor / @wowizard / @lesbianviolet / @blueinkjpeg / @th-xeno / @z-1-wolfe / @mynameisactuallyten / @mcmystery / @ sunbaby.art on Instagram / @dissonantharmony / @principally-ace / @phoenixgreen / @remnant-roses
(These are the links to the artists’ tumblrs where available - preferred social medias will be linked in a separate reblog because Tumblr sucks.)
trying is never enough.
He grows tomatoes.
Well, he tries to. Crowley does not usually try to grow plants. He decides to grow them, and they obey. It's vendetta ad vengeance at once. But lately, nothing seems to obey his will. It's weak, that will, broken into smithereens just like his heart.
And he can't even take it out on his plants. That's because Crowley has mercy.
So he tries to grow tomatoes.
It's summer (the first summer without him) and he has lodged in an airbnb in the country, and behind an old ramshackle ram-shack he has made himself a little plot of land. Well - it's all God's stupidly green earth, isn't it. But this two by two piece of earth he claims for himself. He could have at least that, right? He looks up at the sky. Frowns.
Let me have at least that.
Aziraphale liked to do things the hard way. (He's still doing that, Crowley supposes, up there. Up there. He's not dead, but it feels like it. He's gone. Gone to Heaven. Not to a better place.) Aziraphale liked to do it properly, the human way, when it pleased him. Which was often, but not always. French. Nom de dieu de merde. Pardon his French.
Pardon his stupid everything.
Crowley inspects his tomato plants. He's trying to grow them the human way. Funny, that. He nurses them like he nurses his heart, and miracles won't do. He's tried.
I think I should not be encouraged to grow tomatoes, he thinks.
Raindrops fall on red and green: the plants and the vines and the tomatoes and his hair. It's August, it shouldn't be raining this much. It's been a shitty August. It's been a shitty year. Thirteen months and two weeks and one day, to be exact. Not like he's keeping count. Why bother?
There's a spot on one of the leaves, and Crowley's heart sinks beore it even had the chance to ever rise. It's only one tiny, dark, black spot, but he knows what it means. It means it's too late.
A horrible month. A horrible life. Not the right conditions to thrive. Disease, showing its ugly head, grinning. It's already too late. It's always too late. It would multiply and spread.
His soul is a tomato leaf.
Black as grief.
He's tended these seedlings, he's raised them, and planted them, too, and here they are before him tall and proud and still alive, and Crowley knows they are already dying. He can relate.
The sensible thing to do is to discard it all, be done with them. It's not worth the effort, technically, to keep them alive, but to Crowley it's worth it. It has to be. They are worh it. He is worth it. Stupid stubborn perseverance, stupid stubborn hopeful heart.
He isn't immune to foreshadowing. He looks up again. Angry, this time, bitter. A bit of surrender, too.
The rain drips and drops on his face.
He looks back down, snaps the sickly leaf off with expert fingers. Continues to tend to the plants, as he will until they inevitably die. He plucks a tiny tomato. It's so small, fragile, one of the first of a doomed harvest: but it tastes sweet.
Determined, Crowley continues his labor of love, patient as with all living things.
He is responsible for these vines.
Maybe, despite everything, just this once, he can nurture his heart back to health. (And maybe, just maybe, he is not human and does not do things the human way. When it pleases him. He's always been a rebel. Just a little miracle, a little bit of life-giving defiance. So small no one notices, not even us.) Crowley smiles.
He grows tomatoes.
.
This ficlet was inspired by Louise Glück's Vespers. May she rest in peace. "In your extended absence, you permit me use of earth, anticipating some return on investment. I must report failure in my assignment, principally regarding the tomato plants." read the full poem here
