#Lo ✨

[boiling-potato]

You want to see some unfinished wips? No? Well too bad! I'm gonna show you guys anyway ◉⁠‿⁠◉

Most of them are ask response that I'm too lazy to finish. Also, the reason why they're all traditional is because I cannot for the life of me, sketch in digital sooo yeah! Hope you guys still liked it! (⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠˙̫̮⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠)

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There's also some of my mutuals ocs here! Like Lo (from @feelin-lo), Ace (from @aesopsbaby) and Ashley (from @ashley-hitch)

[feelin-lo]

Here's some crumbs so you don't starve ;)

[vazaez]

sillies 😁

[vssmithy]

🍃   𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗼𝗻  :  𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗤𝗨𝗘.

' sé que es muy pronto para afirmarlo pero creo que el parque será mi sitio favorito. ' confiesa sonriente, ojos puestos en los distintos rincones. ' ¿tú ya recorriste el lugar? ¿encontraste a tu posible candidato? ' 

[teddyeyeseddie]

To Hell I Go

Part One: Cheyenne

Bull Rider Steve Harrington x Reader

masterlist

(a/n: if im one thing im obsessed with cowboys so writing bull rider steve has been so much fun for my californian turned southern heart. also ,everyone say hello to @lofaewrites when you see her in this fic hehe! Also, if you can spot the zach bryan mentions throughout this series, ill kiss you bc I love that man)

Now Playing: Open The Gate

"Now I ain't never feared nothin

that was four legged and buckin

throw me on a hurricane

and I'll ride it til the coast”

He was a Harrington and if Harrington’s did anything, they earned their keep. Steve Harrington grew up on a ranch in eastern Texas, his dad never giving anything to him.  Summertime was filled with breaking horses and shoveling hay, Steve never knowing the fun in summer vacation. Winter brought cold mornings, Steve cursing his father at the crisp hour of 6am as he fed the horses. Harrington men were tough, their name well respected in the town. 

That was until Steve had something to do with it. While Steve earned his keep on the ranch, he was a wild one off of it. By the time he graduated highschool, Steve had sought out any and all adrenaline highs his small town had to offer. There weren’t enough cliffs for him to jump off of, there wasn’t a dirt bike that went fast enough, and there wasn't a horse that bucked hard enough to tame the fire that bloomed in Steve’s veins. 

He was 18 years old the first time he rode in his first rodeo. He lasted 6.6 seconds earning him a score of 72 . He came in second, going home with a medal and a gift card to the town’s local steak house. Once he started, he was hooked. The high he felt when he rode couldn’t touch any other feeling in the world. 

From the moment he came in first in his first competition, he was set off in a whirlwind of bulls, dirt and blood. He worked his way up the ranks, becoming the top bull rider in the country, going for 95.7 points to win the PBR national championship. 

“And here to present the awards for Jefferson’s Junior Rodeo, Steve “The Mudslinger” Harrington!” 

Steve takes the microphone, hand on his belt buckle as he begins to announce the scores and winners for the teenagers. 

The crowd cheers when Jamie Bounds is announced as the first place rider, he had become Steve’s protege, the two of them training when Steve was actually home. 

The Bounds family was intertwined with the Harrington’s, their families doing business together for several years. Jamie worked on the ranch in the summertime, Steve getting to watch him grow up into a well rounded 17 year old. 

“You did good out there, bud,” Steve’s hand comes to clasp Jamie’s shoulder, the smile on his face wide as the two walk towards Steve’s pick up. 

Steve drove a 1984 Chevy K10, he had fixed it up nice when he was 19. Despite his rise to fame in the bull riding world, he stayed humble, still driving and fixing up his beloved truck and even living with his family on their Ranch. When he was home, he worked the land and helped with the business aspects of running the largest ranch in northeastern Texas. 

Steve drops Jamie off at home, deciding to head home early instead of going to the local bar. He crept into the main house on the ranch, being careful as to not disturb his mother and father. He slips into his bedroom, immediately toeing off his boots and stripping himself of his dirt ridden clothes. His belt buckle hits the floor with a thud, Steve wincing at the loud sound. 

He pads into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and wiping down his face and back of his neck. He contemplates a shower for a moment but decides it can wait until the morning. He brushes his teeth before making his way back to the bedroom and slipping into bed. 

The next morning, he showers and quickly gets dressed. He tucks in a plain black t shirt into his blue jeans, adjusting his belt and placing his hat on his head. He makes his way downstairs, the smell of coffee wafting into his nose. He approaches his kitchen and finds his mom and dad sitting at the kitchen table. Steve takes a seat beside his mother, reaching for the coffee pot as his mother pushes a mug in his direction. 

“Mornin’ Momma,” Steve leans over and places a kiss to her cheek before pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“Dad,” Steve simply says, his dad responding with a low grunt. He rolls his eyes, getting up from his spot at the table to grab a plate and dish up what his mom had cooked for the morning. 

The workers got there at 6 in the morning, Mom always having a hot meal ready for them every Saturday. It was a simple skeleton crew on the weekends, the real hard work coming during the week. 

“Are you going to watch the amateur rides today at the summertime rodeo?” his mom questions from her place at the table. 

“I’m thinking about it! I’m gonna go visit Eddie and Charlotte and then maybe I’ll head over there,” Steve responds as he leans against the counter, devouring the toast on his plate. 

Steve finishes his breakfast, bidding his mom and dad goodbye before making his way out to his truck. He loads up, peeling out on the gravel as he makes it onto the main road.

He pulls into Eddie’s driveway, a small craftsman that Eddie and Charlotte put a lot of love into. The front garden had just been redone, the two of them bickering over what flowers to plant this year. Steve had finally had enough and picked the flowers himself the day he came over to help. 

His boots thud as he walks up the stairs, softly knocking on the door. Charlotte answers shortly after, a baby on her hip as she swings the door open. 

“Harrington! I didn’t know you were back in town,” she exclaims, drawing him into a hug with the arm that isn’t supporting Crue. 

Steve ruffles Crue’s hair as he walks through the front door. 

“Lottie babe, who is here this damn early?” Eddie shouts from the living room, Steve rounding the corner, coming into Eddie’s view. 

“Well I’ll be damned, Steve “The Mudslinger” Harrington! In the flesh!” Eddie gets up from his place on the couch, extending his hand to Steve in order to pull him into a bear hug. Eddie pats him a few times on the back before pulling away. 

“What brings you into town? Weren’t you just down in Tampa riding in a competition?” Eddie questions as he directs Steve to the couch, the two of them sit down, Lottie’s eyes silently telling the both of them to not put their dirty boots on her coffee table. 

“Yeah, I don't have another competition til next month. Riding in Cheyenne’s “Daddy of em All”.” Eddie nods, looking to lottie. 

“Honey, could you bring me and Steve here some sweet tea?” he bats his eyelashes at her. She hands Crue off to him before turning on her heels towards the kitchen. 

“You talked to your daddy about taking over the ranch?” Eddie asks as he tries to distract Crue from pulling on his hair. 

“No, don’t really want to yet. I’m at the top of my career and there’s no way I’m slowing down or settling down, no offense,” he says, motioning to Crue. 

“None taken, but how much more exhilarating can it get? I mean one time on Ajax and I was good. Half the bulls you ride would have killed me. ” Eddie says as Charlotte comes back in with two glasses of sweet tea. She takes Crue back, trudging back to his room in order to put him down for a nap. 

“Wanna go to nationals again, won’t turn down the invite to worlds this time if I win,” Steve reveals, taking a sip of his sweet tea. His eyebrows raise as it touches his tongue, looking to Eddie. 

“Right? Lo makes the best sweet tea in Jefferson,” Eddie says as he takes a whopping gulp of his own drink. 

“Anyways, regionals this year. To Hell I Go is going to be there,” 

“To Hell I Go?”

“That’s the name of the bull,” 

Eddie and Steve fall into easy conversation after that. They talk about how Eddie’s job at the Ranch has been. Steve got in late Wednesday and spent all day Thursday preparing Jamie for his competition that night, he barely had time to even say hi to Eddie. 

The two finish their sweet tea, Steve checks his watch and sees he has been visiting with Eddie for 2 hours. He decides he better leave if he wants to make it to the start of the amateur competition. He bids Eddie and Charlotte goodbye, stepping out into the blistering Texas sun. 

It’s times like this where Steve wishes his pick-up had air conditioning. Steve gets in his truck, rolling down the driver side window and backing out of Eddie’s driveway. 

He makes his way into town, the wind blowing in his hair as he hums along to the radio. He pulls up to the corral in less than 15 minutes, pulling into a grass lot where volunteers are instructing cars as to where to park. 

That’s when Steve has to slow down. Right ahead of him, walking towards his truck is a girl he’s never seen before. Her sundress skims her thighs, glowing skin glistening in the sun, hair kept up by a pair of raybans. His stomach does flips when she laughs, his mind short circuiting as he drives. As fast as she appeared she was gone, mixing in with the group of spectators that were walking towards the event center. 

Steve pulls into a spot beside a jeep, jumping out of his truck before making his way to the corral. He knows the people working the ticket booth, the pair allowing him to walk right in without paying. He stuffs a 50 in their tip bucket, smiling at them as he walks inside. He gets stopped a few times on his way to his seat, little boys and dads in awe when they see The Mudslinger in person. He takes a few photographs and signs a few baseball caps before he is set free by the group of children and men. 

He watches as 15 men try their hand at lasting on their respective bull. The ride of the night being Big Tex. He lasted for a whopping 8 seconds on the bull Ajax, a known rough rider around Jefferson. Steve had once lasted for 10 on the same bull but who's keeping track? (He is) 

He meets up with Big Tex after awards, Steve slapping him on the back as he pulls him into a hug. 

“That was some great riding out there, Franklin.” Steve says with a sly grin. 

Big Tex puts him in a headlock, Steve groaning as he tries to get out. The two roughhouse for a bit until they finally calm down. 

“You’re back in town so soon? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your big win?” Big Tex asks as he takes off his gloves, throwing them down on the bed of his truck. 

“Had to get home. Got a big business meeting coming up with the Bounds, had to be there for it. Plus, didn’t wanna miss the summertime rodeo,” Steve jumps up on the bed of Big Tex’s truck, reaching behind him in a cooler in order to pull out a beer. 

“Wait wait wait, for old times sake?” Big Tex stops him, holding up his key in a silent suggestion. 

“Oh fuck yeah,” Steve agrees. Big Tex hands Steve his key, Steve puncturing the bottom of the beer can, tilting it up so as to not spill any of the contents. Big Tex does the same, the two of them carefully knocking their cans together in a “cheers” before expertly shotgunning their respective beers. 

Steve gets home that night thanks to a buddy who stayed sober, the man dropping him off at his front porch. Steve stumbles in, loudly opening the screen door, it ends up slamming shut behind him, he prays it hasn't woken up his parents. Steve finally gets the door all locked before he makes his way upstairs, his boots clunking up each step. 

Steve sleeps peacefully that night, the alcohol running through his blood aiding in his slumber.

[danicloth]

Mi mamá: No te vas a ir así al concierto, verdad?

Yo y mi hermano: Así como?

Aaaaaah banda, si van al concierto de @mysteryskulls al rato pasen a saludar para darles un regalito ✨💛✨ nada más me dicen su user para ubicarlos jaja

[boiling-potato]

can I humbly request Trickster Dancing with Lo/Master?

Or

What would Tricksters relationship be with Master? Would she feel the same towards him as she does Meztli, or, does she feel different because she knows who he really is?

Trickster like I said, dislikes psychopaths. She doesn't generally hate all of them, she just hates meztli because he just keeps hanging around her, annoying her on purpose and killing people in front of her and she hates that because she has a different type of way of killing a person. Seeing people getting killed carelessly without even putting much thought into it just leaves a bad taste in her mouth (it's complicated, I know)

Basically, meztli is the only psychopath she hates but other's just make her feel on edge, not scared! Just uncomfortable and tense because like I said so many times. She dislikes being around people who reminded her of herself.

Her relationship with master, I imagine is like, master being his sadistic and mischievous way. Killing people, toying with their hearts and just being overall a monster. Then there's trickster just being unsure and tense around him. She knows the person he was before! And seeing him like this just makes her blame herself. "Did she do this??" "Did she influence him? Or pushed him over the edge, that's why he turned out like this??" Oh those questions are gonna drive her insane. If there's anything more that she hates other than meztli and being around psychopaths, It's her influencing someone to become like her. (That's why she doesn't like being in her own house and around her family)

Her tension around them is like... how do I say this? Fighting the urge to get rid of them? Yeah, that's it. She knows Lo and she cares deeply for him that's why she just acts timid and uncomfortable around master, so he wouldn't also push her over the edge and snapping/hurting him.

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Master Lo quill belongs to @feelin-lo !

[feelin-lo]

self care Sunday (even though it's Monday, I've been drawing this for four hours and it became Monday but I originally did it for sunday-)

Hehe

Just a little torso practice,

you guys think I can get the same level of Simp-ery that Trickster

(belongs to @boiling-potato)

and Meztli/Sylvester

(both belonging to @aesopsbaby)

get?

I need to know if Lo Simps exist.

[diariodiunadolcegattina]

Qui in biblio mi hanno offerto una lattina di tè del mio gusto preferito e, soprattutto, fresca. L'unica cosa a cui penso (però) e che sarebbe stato molto bello se il tizio che me l'ha offerta, mi facesse un bel lavoretto. Prima lui e poi con la lattina. 🙈😩✨

[lemecdlucas]

;; love u to the moon and to saturn

         ▐ ⦙ ❛ *   ♡ ·ﾟ Ꮺ ࣪˖ ᥫ᭡ 🦢ˎˊ˗  Nicholas Luke Nelson/ @lemecdeliott​​​​​ ❜

                    🌾 ❛❛🏉🍂Era 04 de septiembre, y quería hacer algo lindo por el día y por Charlie. La escuela los había mantenido separados y no ayudaba mucho. Estaba totalmente entusiasmado, tomo a Nellie y fue hasta la casa de Charlie. Toco el timbre y Nellie se emocionó tanto como el corazón de Nick por ver a su novio. —Hola señora Spring, ¿Estará Charlie?—Saludo a la mamá de su novio cuando ella fue la que respondió a la puerta.—No, disculpe no le avise a Charlie quería que fuera sorpresa—Explicó mientras le decía que en un momento bajaba Charlie. El plan era que todo el día estuviera con Charlie y que se quedara a dormir en su casa.

[aricastmblr]

BT21_ - BT21 facebook - bt21_official instagram chimmy cooky

Three, two, one, say ‘Spring Days’ (click✨) さん、に、いち「Spring Days」 (パシャリ✨) 셋, 둘, 하나 ‘Spring Days’ (찰칵✨)

BT21 #springday #봄날 #comingsoon

BT21_ X 24Mzo 2024 (https://x.com/BT21_/status/1772163865733689699?s=20 )

BT21 facebook 24Mzo 2024 (https://www.facebook.com/BT21.Official/videos/1103761164162236)

bt21_official ig 24Mzo 2024 (https://www.instagram.com/p/C47Z_uKSGz1/?img_index=5)

[comradelouis]

some fucked up film from the hollywood bowl

Louis Tomlinson

Faith in the Future World Tour

June 30, 2023

[castieldelamancha]

One day we will be together in the wind.

Dean watches Castiel go, the wind picking up to make the flowers dance around him, taking Cas away from him. The sound of the rustling leaves above him, of the nearby water, is loud, just not enough to hide the heart wrenching sob that escapes him.

That's the only place where they will be able to meet again when it's all over and Dean's time comes.

Goodbye for now.

.

The wind touches his face lightly, a gentle caress, it plays with his short hair, the hems of the flannel he is wearing, open over a black t-shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He closes his eyes, and he breathes, deeply. It feels like the wind that day, the day he saw Castiel flying away from him for the last time, his ashes soaring higher and higher, falling among the colorful flowers of the meadow, reaching up to touch the trees. But it doesn't smell as clean here, he can smell the familiar scent of petrol, the overpowering smell of the flowery air freshener they use inside the store. He is far away from the meadow, the trees and the water. He is far away from Cas now.

One day we will be together in the wind.

Far away from here.

He opens the driver seat's door and, with a tired sigh, reaches into the glovebox to get the mixtape he gave Cas so they can listen to it for the last stretch of their trip to their next case. He avoids looking to the backseat, the empty seat behind him a constant reminder, even if it was rarely occupied. Sam gives him a look, sad, empathetic, but he doesn't say a word.

.

Dean stretches his legs with a groan, the hard ground beneath him is going to kill his back even with the blanket he brought with himself from inside the bunker. The wind has picked up in the last few hours, it's touch a tad heated after a day of merciless summer Sun. He closes his eyes enjoying it, for a moment. It smells like dry soil, it brings the song of a lost cricket. He stays where he is, his mind doesn't wander.

Soon its touch on his face isn't alone anymore, fingers trace the side of his face, their fingertips as rough as Dean's own, a testimony of years of hard work, knuckles caressing his skin when the hand reaches his cheek.

"If you close your eyes you are going to miss the meteor shower." A rough voice reminds him.

He opens his eyes again, meeting Castiel's, leaning over him slowly conquering Dean's side of the blanket. The wind is messing his hair and Dean chases after the soft strands with his fingers, moving his hand to close it over the nape of Cas' neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

One day we will be together in the wind.

[ritchieholmes]

Der Herr des Waldes // Die Kälte der Erde

[kheyys-worms]

A Cecaelia's Lament.