believe you can fly

im just so overwhelmed by how much they actually prepared for the home party despite the fact that they’re on a world tour, doing japanese promotions, and even before- they were doing so many us promotions when they were invited to the bbmas????like where did they find the time to do this????

“I know they talk like you’re too naive… (like) you’re too young but eventually, fools change the world. I believe that.” - #RM 2017

[V+ Chat] 170310 Kim Namjoon

I’m emotional, coz just the other night I was ranting about how the other generations sign us off as ridiculous, petulant, and entitled for dreaming big dreams and believing in what we deserve.

Try til you can fly! If you crash and learn what limits you, fight it. Shout not today to the nay sayers! Once upon a time no person could fly. Then some dreamers invented planes and made flying a reality. Who’s to say that you wouldn’t be able to create a way to make your dream of soaring become a reality too?

Namjoon believes in passionate fools. You should too. Be passionate, be driven, keep trying!

Dream, Hope, Keep Going!

anonymous asked:

#onlyinamitypark do you see Phantom singing 'I Believe I can Fly' at the top of his lungs in a park #thiskidis2g #ofcourseyoucanflyyouredead #theresonlyonethingimjealousofwhenitcomestoghosts #andthatsflying #hesgotagoodsingingvoicetho #weshouldholdaghosttalentshow #dudeletsstartapetition #mayormasterswouldtotesagree

sorry guys but i’m not going to be over this for a while. Harry Fucking Styles wrote a song called “If I Could Fly” and INSISTED on this being the title and then he makes his first solo music video featuring him FLYING. i CANNOT WITH THIS BOY HE OWNS MY WHOLE HEART/SOUL/ASS

Things Ravenclaws Say #3
  • Ravenclaw: I believe I can fly
  • Slytherin: You have no wings, you can't levitate
  • Another Slytherin: As a Ravenclaw, you should know this.
  • Ravenclaw: There are flying broomsticks here and you say I can't fly
  • Ravenclaw: Put your ambitions back in your pocket.
  • Gryffindor, from across the hall: Oh snap!
5 Ways Hitch Dreyse Will Outlive All of You

so i have a lot of thoughts about Hitch, and honestly i have never really collected or posted them before but i’ve been thinking about her character a lot lately, and so i decided maybe i should do so. There’s always been stuff floating around about her, and i never really resonated too hard with most of the fandom views, so i think i’ll try putting into my words what i think about her (and some on marlo) as a character and where her position *may* stand right now (if she shows up again.) This wasn’t supposed to get so in depth but it did, and hopefull it can help other people see her better than how she presents herself at face value, becuase she is SO interesting. 

Here you are! My first ever meta post!

What happens next may shock you! More under the cut!

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how didn’t i see this coming? of course you did this to me. of course you left. you didn’t close yourself off from me because you were gentle and scared; you closed yourself off because you didn’t want me to have you. you didn’t lie so i wouldn’t start a fight; you lied so you could keep me. you wanted me to stay, but you kicked me as i went.

how could i be so vain? acting like i’m the only person in the world who could love you. telling you that you are scum like i wouldn’t take you back the minute you opened your arms. i would take you back with arms so wide that i would be made to believe we can still fly with broken wings. but you are missing and i am allergic to your scent.

i can’t think of you anymore without thinking of you blowing cigarette smoke up my mouth until my insides turned ugly. so i blast your favorite songs in the car and scream until i lose my voice and can’t talk about you anymore. i pretend we will speak again and it will make me happy. i pretend you’ll get sick of the way she says your name like you are brand new. i pretend you’ll get sick of her eyes sparkling in your ribcage. i pretend you’ll get sick of resting your tired eyes in her temples of light. i pretend, because it’s all i can do.

i am your baggage claim; you are free now.

i am free now.

but freedom just feels like showing up in front of your house in the middle of the night and taking a deep breath before circling the block again and returning home. freedom just feels like free drinks and emotional fucks and doing anything to make myself feel as alive as her eyes. freedom just feels like biting my tongue when your friends flirt with me because i see your name stamped on their lips. it’s not fair. my lips are sealed of everything that isn’t you.

people say it’s worse to do the hurting than to be hurt, but if that were true, you would have a knife in your throat. i’m sorry for the nights i fought heartbreak with hatred. but i think the only thing worse than being heartbroken is being dead.

—  baggage claim

“It’s far from home right now, but I think if I’m persistent, one day it could  be.”

“Can you believe it’s been so long already? Time really does fly.”

“I can’t understand what I did wrong if you don’t explain it to me.”

“Was it ever my job to take care of your problems for you?”

“I am never betting with you ever again, but at least you’re only making me wear this strange costume out in public. You could demand for something so much worse.”

“My words aren’t working in my brain, come back later. Too tired.”


There’s another great thing about this new place that we are in. With all these trails so close (5-10 min walk), Ammo can now have full on offleash hikes everyday when it’s sunny out until later. We used to have to drive like a minimum of 45 minutes just to get somewhere he could be offleash. And I seriously didn’t have the mental energy to do all that extra driving every day (plus gas money!). So I’m super excited about this aspect of the place. It’s awesome enough he has a fenced dog run just outside the door, but a bunch of trails is even better!


Post-episode for Revelations, written for the @txf-fic-chicks challenge. A big thank you to @kateyes224 for giving me the episode (because I’m an indecisive fuck & couldn’t choose one myself).

A/N: This one was a bit difficult for me to write, given my background with religion & the fact that I’m an atheist. But Mulder’s attitude toward Scully in Revelations  has always bothered me, because he should know better than anyone that not believing in something doesn’t mean you get to act like a condescending cunt to those who do believe. So I did what fanfic writers do, & attempted to fix it. <3

She drives home from the airport in silence after bidding Mulder a curt goodbye.

Mostly it just makes me afraid, she had told the priest from her confession booth. Afraid that God is speaking, but that no one is listening.

The rain outside pelts against the top of her car, the sound mingling with windshield wipers sloshing rhythmically across wet glass. With each pass of the blades, she hears a taunting liar – liar – liar.

Perhaps it’s another sign.

Or perhaps it’s simply her own judgment. The knowledge that she spoke untrue words in a house of God causes her stomach to roll over, familiar Catholic guilt gripping her heart. She is afraid, that much is true. But she’s not afraid that no one is listening, or at least that isn’t her greatest fear. What truly terrifies her, what causes her blood to freeze in her veins as the lump in her throat grows, is that Mulder isn’t listening.

That he isn’t listening to her.

This is a man who can see a star shoot across the sky and swear it’s a spaceship, who will believe without question in a stranger’s account of a psychic vision or a visit from beyond the grave. Yet when she speaks of miracles and incorruptibles and the hand of God, he looks at her with the same patient expression her  father used to get when explaining that no, Starbuck, there is no monster under your bed – stop being silly and go back to sleep.

Mulder had laughed at her.

I know what I saw, she tells herself firmly. I don’t need his damn approval. The rain is coming down harder now, in sheets rather than droplets. She flicks her wrist, increasing the speed of the wipers. Liar-liar-liar-liar-liar.

Okay, she concedes to herself, as she guides her car into her parking lot, I rarely (never) believe him when he speaks of apparitions and aliens. This is her role as a scientist, though. He seems to respect that role, even through his exasperation at her refusal to give in to his every whim.

Every time – every single time she tries to believe in something, Mulder is a skeptic. Luther Boggs. Don’t believe him, Scully. Owen Jarvis. Now you’re suggesting that this is Saint Owen? Kevin Cryder. What I’ve seen here has only tested my patience, not my faith.

Well, Mulder, it’s hard to have your faith tested when you don’t have any faith to begin with.

Running clumsily across the sidewalk and into her apartment building,  she pulls her blazer tightly over her head, but it hardly makes a difference. By the time she steps into her unit, her hair is plastered to her face and her feet squish uncomfortably in her shoes. She sighs heavily as she steps out of them, peeling her soaked shirt from her body.

She suppresses a cringe as she remembers, once again, the mocking disdain in her partner’s voice when Jarvis told him that God had spoken to him. “God,” Mulder’s voice was scornful, and her fingers had itched with the urge to cross herself. “That’s quite the long distance call.”

She shivers. Whether it’s from the damp chill clinging to her body even as she changes into warm soft flannel, or from the memory of Mulder’s blasphemy, she isn’t sure.

When her phone rings, she sighs and prepares herself for the speech she’s sure she will be delivering in a few moments. No, Mulder, I am not meeting you to look for Bigfoot tonight. No, Mulder, it is not possible for a human being to pass through solid objects. No, Mulder –

“Scully.” Her voice is at once flat and sharp. I’m already bored with this conversation, but you’ve pissed me off, so tread lightly.

Hey, you.” Mulder sounds quiet and sleepy. No excited pre-case edge. No condescending smirk. Just hey, you.

“Mulder.” She frowns curiously. Pulling her legs up onto the bed, she leans back against the pillows. “What’s up?”

I just wanted to tell you – “ There’s a long pause, and for a moment, Scully wonders if the call has been dropped.


I just wanted to tell you,” he tries again, “that, um, you were great out there, Scully. You saved that boy’s life. If it were solely in my hands, he would be dead right now.

“I thought you didn’t believe me,” she replies, and hates herself a little for the sadness reflected in her words.

I didn’t.” He hesitates again, and then – “But you were right.”

“Thank you,” she murmers. She closes her eyes and swallows, then whispers, “I did see the things I said I did, Mulder. I didn’t make it up.”

I know you did.”

“I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” She curls the phone cord around one finger, unsure of what else to say. Thank you, Mulder, for not thinking I’m crazy – maybe I’ll try to return the favor one day?

See you at work,” he agrees.

As she pulls the phone from her ear, his voice calls out – “Hey, Scully?

“Yes, Mulder?”

He sighs quietly. “I don’t believe in God. I can’t lie and say that I do, any more than you can say that you believe in flying saucers or clairvoyant abilities.”

She opens her mouth to reply, to tell him that it’s okay, that she understands (liar-liar-liar) but he continues. “You’re the first person who has ever made me want to believe in God, Scully.

A soft smile spreads across her face, a tender warmth blooming in her chest.

Suddenly, she knows exactly what to say. This time, it isn’t a lie.

“You make me want to believe, too.”



The first thing Dex notices about Nursey is that he’s disgustingly gorgeous. The second is his tattoo.

The first thing Nursey notices, apparently, is that Dex has noticed. He hikes up his sleeve to give Dex a better look. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” Dex says, “it’s nice,” and it is, but that’s not why he’s looking. He’s heard of guys doing ink to embellish their soulmark, and, well, he has to wonder. Because Nursey is the best-looking guy Dex has ever seen, and because Dex’s soulmark lives in a similar place – high up on his own arm, wedged underneath so it can’t be seen unless Dex lifts his arm above his head. His heart thuds dully as he stares at Nursey’s ink and wonders if this could be it.

Then Nursey opens his mouth and breaks Dex’s heart.

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