Think of all the work that goes into getting a hunk of metal up into the air and sailing it through the skies, from takeoff all the way back to the first ideas on human flight. All the energy that has been put into learning the science of flight. How human will and intelligence and effort have made flight a possibility. It’s an every day example of using knowledge of forces to achieve what we want - and is that not what magic is?
Think of all the energy on board a plane - emotions from people happy to be returning to family, those nervous to fly, those who are excited to be landing someplace they’ve never been to. The amount of physical fuel on board a plane. The idea that the air is holding this thing full of people so high above the ground.
Airports are such an inbetween place. People - so many people - are traveling, waiting, meeting, full of energies and ideas and passions. It’s one of the biggest crossroads you’ll ever come across.
Shooting stars happen way out away from human influence, and are lovely and rare, but we don’t create them. Why not wish on something that humans created? Why not look to a machine people made to defy gravity as an icon of success and achievement, rather than a rock that flies across your vision by chance?
Was watching a documentary last night about Marwari horses in India and it dawned on me that the dancing horses used in celebrations are actually doing high school movements. Not all trainers of course but some of the best I think. Check this out!
Nukra Marwari stallion, performing a perfect Terre a Terre and Piaffe (by 1301chrissi)
Request: @supers16 I sincerely apologize for the lack of material, I just have been so stressed out since I had so much school work and then I was on vacation. I hope you can forgive me!! Also sorry of this is kind of bad, I have to work myself back into the writing style.
word count: 2078
It was a windy day in December when you discovered the truth about Peter Parker.
Snow littered the streets of Queens, the freezing white pellets swirled among the air above you head before drifting towards the ground. They landed upon the thin layer of ice beneath your feet, disappearing in the millions of other snowflakes that littered the floor. You smiled softly, turning your face to gaze upon the white sky. You laughed softly as the cold white flakes landed on your nose, tickling your skin.
Most people of the city despised this time of year: the icy streets caused difficulty when driving, the snow had to be shoveled out of the driveway every morning and the temperature often dropped beneath zero. However, you loved Winter. The purity of the snow and the sight of the Earth covered by a soft blanket of stainless white always seemed breathtaking. You loved to take walks in the cold, gloves and five layers of shirts already placed upon you figure. Even when you breathed and a small puff of white erupted from your lips, you still smiled happily.
Maybe the reason you loved Winter so much was because it was a metaphor for the way you felt: the soft, pure snow covering a chaotic Earth. It could symbolize the way you covered yourself with a mask every time you entered the world. Or possibly it illustrated the way you hide you identity underneath a costume and a hood every time you left to fight crime.
Or it was probably just that school got canceled every other day.
Stepping into Peter’s apartment and shaking the leftover snow from your shoulders, you smiled as you used your powers to heat up your body. A warming feeling flowed throughout your body, warming up your cold skin. It was difficult to keep the flames at bay, but you were able to control enough of your powers so that you did not burn the rest of your clothing.
Stepping into the elevator, you pulled your backpack higher up on your shoulder and fiddled with the strings of your coat. You were happy that you were finally able to see your boyfriend again; it had been a week or so since the last time you had seen him. Since the buildings were snowed in, you were not able to escape your room in order to meet your loving boyfriend of a year. Smiling at the possibility, you shifted on your feet, pushing the weight from one side to the other. It took a few moments for you to calm down, the excitement rising to your cheeks. The skin turned pink, well - pinker than it had been due to the cold.
When you stepped out of the machine, you maneuvered your way to Peter’s door, not bothering to knock on the dark wood. You had known Aunt May and Peter long enough to not have to wait outside his door.
Stepping into the warm apartment, you shook off your snow-covered coat. Letting the hotter air seep into the colder areas of your body. You smiled as you turned around the face May, who stood in the kitchen, cooking something that you could not see.
“Hey, May!” You exclaimed happily, “How have you been? Peter hasn’t been giving you trouble without me here, has he?” Aunt May turned at the sound of your chirpy voice, a smile glowing brightly on her face, “Hey! I’m great, thank you for asking. Peter has been a bit antsy this past week, and I probably could blame it on the lack of your presence.” A small smirk made its way onto her face as she spoke. Ever since she joined social media, she had discovered ‘shipping’ and would not stop telling you and Peter how much she ‘shipped’ the two of you together.
Wade Wilson also had some input on said topic, although you never knew about said anti-hero sneaking into Peter’s apartment.
You grinned at May, a blush overtaking your features as you began speaking, “Well I hope being here makes him a little less anxious.”
May laughed brightly before making your way to Peter’s room, sliding your backpack off your shoulders as you did so. When you reached his door, you stopped in your tracks as voices were heard from the interior of his room. Slowing, you placed a hand on the wall to steady yourself and leaned closer to the door, hoping to make out some of the words echoing around his small room.
“- and you haven’t told her about this yet?” An unfamiliar voice erupted from behind the thin wall.
“No, she doesn’t know. I don’t think I can tell her because I know she will want to get involved and I can’t let her get hurt because of me.” The voice that spoke such words was Peter, but he seemed much more anxious than usual.
You stepped closer to the door, trying to identify the second voice. It scared you to know that Peter was living a life behind your back. Was he cheating on you? Or was he involved in something that could threaten his life? It seemed pretty out-of-the-box, seeing as Peter was an innocent kid, he even dumpster dived in order to find the electronics he wanted. Just the thought of Peter being involved in something dangerous seemed illogical.
However, there were mysterious signs that you had to factor into the equation. Peter often did come home late at night with colorful bruises on his body; you had to patch him up sometimes. He tried to blame it on bullies, but you knew that this was far worse than anything Flash could ever do.
“You’re going to have to tell her at some point, kid,” the mysterious, unidentified voice muttered, “I mean, I’m even surprised you’ve kept this a secret for so long!”
Your stomach sank at the words. How long had Peter been hiding this from you?
“I know, I know! It’s just that keeping this under the rug is the only thing that reminds me that she is safe. There are so many guys out there that would love to get her hands on her because they know that she’s my weakness, but I can’t let that happen. Spider-Man can’t have weaknesses. It will only end up hurting her and I don’t want that. I know it sounds cliche, but I don’t know what I would do if she was hurt because of me. I mean out there, there are tons of people that get hurt all the time, some of them are even my friends, but not her. I can’t let her get hurt.”
You pulled your hand away from the door at the revelation; Peter Parker was Spider-Man? The evidence did overlap in some areas that could have caused you to draw this conclusion, but you would have never believed it! After hearing it straight from Peter’s mouth, you did not know what to think.
Of course, you had been keeping quite a similar secret from Peter as well.
You had been using your power to save people too, just not as much as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. There was the occasional robbery or theft that needed to be taken care of, but you never went as far as masking yourself to save the city. That was Spider-Man’s job.
Sinking back into the wall, you continued to listen to the pair’s conversation, “It sounds like you love her, kid.”
“Yeah, I know it sounds dumb. I mean I am only seventeen, but she’s just different. I can’t think straight when I’m around her; everything just kind of fogs up and I stumble over my words - more than usual. She’s too pure and innocent for this kind of stuff, Tony. Gosh, she’s the love of my life,” Peter sighed.
“I understand,” Tony Stark replied, “Just keep an eye out for her, alright. I have to go, but I’ll talk to you later, kid, alright?”
You didn’t hear a reply, so you assumed that Peter had nodded his head. Your stomach and heart were feeling fuzzy, despite the revelation that your best friend and boyfriend was Spider-Man. After his speech about his love for you, heat had risen to your cheeks and you couldn’t keep the smile from your face. A warm feeling had risen in your body, and this time you couldn’t blame it on your fire manifestation; this was something different.
Raising a hand to knock on his door, you decided not to confront Peter on his abilities just yet.
You had something different planned.
The next night, you knew Peter would be out patrolling the city, monitoring the streets to make sure everyone was safe. This was the moment you had waited for, the moment you would confront Peter and reveal your powers as well.
It was difficult to track him at first, seeing as he could swing around the city and you were stuck running on the concrete. However, once you heard the robbery taking place a block over, you knew exactly where to go. Pushing off your heels, you sprinted in the direction of the building. Your leggings pulled tight against your skin and you thanked yourself for deciding not to wear jeans.
When you arrived at the building, you spotted four men holding stuffed bags. Their bodies were taught, obviously having packed on the muscle to pull this heist. You, however, were not intimidated.
As soon as the flash of red and blue passed your eyesight, you were running towards the scene. Spider-Man had arrived on scene and was ready for a fight; so were you.
“Hey guys!” Peter spoke, his voice muffled by the mask, “Nice masks, they really compliment the rest of your outfits. Except for you, big guy, you might want to rethink the red, it’s kind of my thing.”
You giggle at your goof of a boyfriend before watching as he used the web-shooters on his wrists to capture the first two men. You did not interfere until you saw the fourth man draw a gun on Peter. Stepping forward, you raised your hands and let a burst of flame exit your fingertip, covering the gun-wielder’s hand. He screeched in pain, dropping the sleek gun, grabbing his hand as he groveled in pain.
As Spider-Man took care of the last burglar, he turned to face you with surprise evident on his face.
“Hey, babe,” You smiled giddily, laughing when Peter’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
“What-” He muttered, “I’m so confused - that was you?”
You smiled and raised you hands, letting little flames overtake the fingertips, shuddering as the warmth flowed through your frame.
Peter nodded slightly, “How did you-”
He was cut off when you interrupted his question, “I heard you and Tony talking yesterday.”
If Peter had not been wearing the mask, you swore he would as red as the suit by this point.
“So you heard-”
“You bet I did,” You giggled, “But I think you’ll be happy to know that I feel the same way about you.”
You took a step forward, placing your hands on the underside of the mask, pulling it up enough so that you could access his lips. You giggled as you placed your lips onto his, sighing as you felt the spark that appeared every time you touched him. You moved your lips slowly, coaxing Peter to fall from his stupor and kiss you back. Laughing when he finally did, Peter wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you closer to his frame. A shiver ran down your spine as your body fit perfectly into his, like two puzzle pieces that were incomplete without each other. Peter sighed, raking one of his hands through your hair, eliciting a small moan from your mouth.
When you finally pulled away, the both of you were giddy. Smiles present and blushes adorning both your cheeks, you leaned up to press a kiss to his flaming skin.
“What do you say, Spider-Man, want to take the love of your life for a spin around the city?”
Peter chuckled before grabbing you by the hips and hoisting you into the air and shooting a web into the sky, “Gladly.”
Note: I decided to write another Ezra imagine but please remember, if you want to request a specific storyline for an imagine, please do! It can be about Ezra or any of the characters he has portrayed.
The distant noise of car horns and drilling could be heard, dissolving all sounds of peace and nature. Tall, structured buildings stood high above the ground, dominating most of the air space. You watched, silently, hoards of people lining, zigzagging and crossing the polluted streets, not one of them adorning the decent manners to give way to others.
You eventually sighed. Looking down on these people and the mass of cars, buses and motorbikes made you feel joyfully depressed. Every morning and evening you would ascend to the roof balcony of your apartment building just to watch the corruption below you.
You went there to think and to breath in the air that you knew was blackening your lungs. It was hypocritical to argue that, however, due to the cigarette stick you held between your fingers. You placed the cigarette between your cut and dry lips, inhaling and then puffing out a drag of smoke and nicotine.
You grasped the railings, pulling your tired body closer to the freezing brickwork, and looking straight down at the roads below you. You took another puff of smoke, thinking to yourself and wondering what it would be like just to fall. You imagined the wind blowing through you, the feeling of flying and floating until suddenly, blackness. No more.
You sighed and pushed your body away from the railings once again, taking another drag and straightening out your t-shirt. From behind you could hear the creaking noise of the balcony door opening and shutting. You didn’t bother turning around.
“Hey,” came a familiar voice “thought you would be out here.” You smirked and turned to face him. The most beautiful man you had ever befriended. He was the greatest guy you had ever known, and you loved him dearly. However, the only problem you had with yours and his relationship was that you couldn’t rip off his clothes, touch his body all over, feel the pleasure you wanted to feel with him. This relationship was restricted to friends and you hated it.
“Hello, Ezra” you replied, holding out your cigarette to him which he gladly accepted, inhaling and exhaling. “It’s very lively today” Ezra pointed out, the bitter breeze blowing his hair slightly. “Yeah,” you replied “and very corrupt,”
Ezra rolled his eyes and took another puff of your cigarette, twirling it around between his fingers before passing it back to you. You couldn’t help but stare at him, the way the morning sun glistened in his dark eyes and the taunting of his soft lips made you want to jump right off the edge of the building. “You know,” Ezra began “love is pointless, in the long run” he said randomly. You would converse like this sometimes, just by bringing up any topic that was on your mind. You furrowed your eyebrows “why so?” you questioned, your heart sinking just a little. “In 200 years is your lover going to remember you?” he proposed “death is just going to rip the love apart so why bother.”
You looked up at the dull sky for a moment before taking another drag. “Because if you don’t have love, why not just die now?” you replied. “Yes, death is going to rip love apart because life is finite.” You looked over at Ezra, noticing his intrigue in what you were saying. “But…if love doesn’t exist then, then why do we have life at all?” you asked “without love there is no happiness, no enjoyment. Without love, there is no life.”
Ezra stared at you deeply, you noticed something in his eyes that he hadn’t directed at you before. He stepped a little closer to you, peeling the cigarette away from your fingers and letting it fall to the ground before stamping it out.
He trailed his fingertips up your cold, bare arms, making you shiver even more. “W-what are you doing?” you stuttered, hoping and praying for this to be real and that you were not going to wake up in a pool of pleasure and sweat alone, in bed. He remained silent, cupping your cheek with his large palm and leaning down ever so slightly. “Maybe you’re right,” he said “maybe this universe is built on love.” Your heart pounded out of your chest, the blood in your veins racing and penetrating your entire body.
“Are you going to kiss me?” you squeaked, your arms loosely hanging by your sides. “No shit,” he replied before closing the tiny gap between yours and his lips. The feeling of kissing Ezra, in your imagination, did not even scratch the surface of how amazing it was in reality. You lifted your arms to wrap them around his neck, deepening the kiss ever so slightly and letting your eyes flutter closed.
The city noises, smoke, pollution, corruption all seemed like another world to you at this point.
Ezra smiled a little, dragging his tongue along your bottom lip. You allowed him entrance, both of your tongues swimming in a pool of each others saliva. Any thoughts or feelings jumbled inside of you to create and explosion of love, lust and desire.
You pulled apart, your arms still wrapped around one another, noses pressed together and your heavy breathing colliding with each other’s. Ezra looked right into your eyes and spoke softly “Maybe love is pointless in the long run,” he said “But right now, in this life, love is infinite.”
Hello! I apologize for the long absence, life has been stressful and has been stealing me from tumblr, but I am back and wanted to share what I have been working on with all of you!
A few months back I made this post regarding my personal elemental system as a
where I matched each of the 18 Pokémon types with one of the elements in my system. I have since taken each element and paired it with a direction (North, South, East, West, Above, Below, and Within) and have come up with a system of magic that works for me and I wanted to share it with all of you!
Teach me how to fit the world in the palm of my hands so that my fears could shrink and I’d stand TALL.
I want to be BAD.
I want cherry vanilla kisses.
I want lips risen from the dead with words once forgotten.
Teach me how to be LARGER than life but to still be so small that I’ll fit inside the walls of your home.
I want to dip my legs in your stream of consciousness.
I want your unwavering gaze.
I want euphoria.
I want to breathe this stale air as if it were the breeze above the ground we live under.
I wonder if this makes performing more fun or actually tougher. Somehow this reminds of MC from Symphogear where they had to cool her down with water because she was too hot.
So by now Nana conquered how many elements? Air (flying high above the ground in like every concert, even non-solo), fire (some imperssive firestorms in Eternal Blaze) and now water. She better summon some earth golem next time.
Call yourself a storm chaser, tell the world you breathe the fire, lament your sore soles and worn down tread keeping up with the high, high winds, sure, all those hallucinations that air above ground.
You see her Tiger colors now? She’s the arch that aches in the wild. When she stirs, God save us; she takes her territory back to the beginning.
She is the volcano awakening for the first time in over a century.
I leaned back And let it sink in Let it flood my veins Until it reached every inch of my body Until I couldn’t feel the ground underneath my feet Or the air above my head Or anything at all Until everything around me faded away And so did I
Suddenly, it was just the pure feeling A burning chest The feeling of sweet poison taking over your body Until it becomes a bodiless sensation Without a frame, out of this world Far from decision or control Something you cannot grasp Cause it seizes you to your core
It’s the same feeling that makes you tired And the same feeling that will keep you awake It’s incredibly fleeting And yet it’s an omnipresent occupier of your soul It’s so quiet, it gives you a headache A pounding hope and a gut wrenching pain You’re reaching out and keeping it all to yourself It makes you want to be the best you can possibly be While not existing at all is just as appealing, it seems
What moves me so deep inside Will keep me paralysed under your eyes
The process can be accelerated by scoring the bark of the stem section that is to be buried to reveal the cambium–which provides undifferentiated cells that turn into root tissue–and applying rooting hormone.
When this is done above the ground, it is called air layering.
Layering is a reliable way to create clones of plants that are difficult to propagate by cuttings, like certain hardwoods, or flowering trees like magnolias. The clone is able to derive water and nutrients from the parent plant, while slowly establishing roots over a period of weeks or months.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t let you complete me” - anon (Is There Somewhere by HALSEY / Room 93 EP inspired)
In which you maybe destroy whatever safe haven you and Luke found in the four walls of many random hotel rooms.
“It’s fine, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”
The words hung in the air like someone paused time, the stab of each syllable suspended above the ground like an animation an artist gave up on; an unfinished project stopped right at the crescendo of a song, the climax of a plot. They sucked the air out of the atmosphere and made your stomach clench with agony, your lower lip trembling uncontrollably at his nonchalant dismissal of everything there was between you guys.
“Luke–” you choked, your hands reaching limply out to him and wincing when he stepped backward clumsily and quickly, like he couldn’t stand the touch of your skin on his anymore.
“Seriously, Y/N,” he interrupted, his foot kicking at the ground as his hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s not a big deal.”
You throat felt dry as all saliva seemed to leave your mouth, his proclamation a hard pill to swallow. Eight months ago, you would’ve laughed at yourself; at the type of person you’d become. You prided yourself on being the girl who everyone wanted yet no one quite knew, the one’s who’s name was whispered in the dark corners of the rooms at parties, on the tips of everyone’s tongue but no one quite dared to speak unless they were moaning it between the sheets. You despised commitment, despised the thought of giving someone the power to break you by letting them in, breaking down all your walls just to have to re-build them up higher than before when they inevitably leave. You would’ve rolled your eyes at the girl you were now, standing in a scummy, vacant, dark hallway in the back area a concert venue, this close to tears because some boy didn’t acknowledge that there were feelings between you and him. You wouldn’t have felt any ounce of sympathy towards the girl you’d become because, really, how could you not see this coming?
And another one of liathwen-slays-dragons prompts. I’m on a roll today. Prompt: Kissing to stay quiet, Start: I dare you, Text: I’m sorry, okay? An apology is what you wanted, right? End: Well that was unexpected.
And once again I ran away with the prompt, or it ran away with me? Well you’ll see. Enjoy!
“I dare you,” Molly growled through gritted teeth letting her bag drop with a loud thud to the ground.
Being caught red handed Sherlock had frozen in the middle of his movement, the spoon with the deliciously good smelling grounded coffee hovering above the machine mid air.
“Don’t tell me you’re stealing my last bit of coffee,” Molly went on slowly walking through the kitchen slamming her keys onto the table for effect, “AGAIN.”
Already feeling like an idiot, Sherlock simply let the last bits of coffee fall into the filter before he closed the lid and turned the machine on.
“Sherlock Holmes!” Molly shouted.
Turning around slowly to face the fuming pathologist Sherlock put on a cheeky grin.
“Who said I was stealing your coffee? Maybe I’m just making coffee for you?” he tried.
Can we talks about this photo, I mean Michael is carrying Ryan(which is probably not easy breezy, but Michael’s not even struggling), Michael’s wearing a Haywood Airlines shirt, because Ryan is still in the air (he’s like what 2m above ground level sitting on Michael’s shoulders?) and Ryan’s wearing a Ryan Achieve because he is achieving his dreams at this moment.
Through the darkness, trying to shout. Trapped within the void of the night I call out for the light.
If the world I long to see Holds a meaning worth it for me Every tear and every smile, Will all have been worthwhile
I was crushed by the dreams that never followed through And let my wishful thoughts die Before I could taste the air above the ground, touch the boundless sky
Then I began to run, leaving the fears I had behind Now my feelings keep on pulsing with the beat of my heart A brand new day has come, new destinations we can find And together we will build our dream, tomorrow never dies
Ive found the answer now; its always been before my eyes
The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They’re there to stop the other people. - Randy Pausch
Yellow. Endless, unsettling, glowing, golden yellow cradling two deeply set streaks of long, black void. A fixed stare that seemed to be trying to swallow him up completely with a compelling pull into its vibrant and poisonous intensity. This was Stan’s entire world now. The sky and searing bright light of the sun above him, the hard dusty ground, the scorched dry air, the car, the rocks, the sagebrush and Joshua trees, the entire desert landscape, was all gone. Gone and disappearing from his consciousness as a peculiar dream fades soon after waking. Stan knew, he knew in the back of his mind that all of it had to still be out there… somewhere… but it might as well have just bled out from the world entirely for all that he could interact with it. Reality was truly out of sight, and out of mind.
Even his own body seemed like a foreign and nonexistent entity beneath him. He couldn’t move it, couldn’t tell if he were still gripping tightly onto the chains that he’d dragged out from the car, or if he’d already let them slip through his loose fingers and drop to the dirt below. He didn’t feel thirsty, or sore, or hurting, or hot. He wasn’t even aware if he was breathing anymore, or if his heart were still beating in his chest. There was absolutely nothing for him to look at, nothing for him to focus on, save for the piercing yellow eyes that now ominously loomed over him, and the cruel satisfaction that swam within their depths.