catching wind

Didn’t want to add my salt to that last reblog because it’s such a pure, wholesome post, I didn’t want to soil it with the disc0urse.

But now I really really really want Mila to be an Otayuri shipper.

If Yurio does have a crush on Otabek, I want Milla to catch wind of it and be 100% supportive of the crush, and of them. I want her to cheer Yurio on and tease him by trying to drop hints to Otabek and all that good stuff.

That would be the ultimate middle finger to ant/s. Particularly the ones who use her for their icons. It would be such sweet, poetic justice, the icing on the cake :’)

4

I never came to the beach or stood by the ocean
I never sat by the shore under the sun with my feet in the sand
But you brought me here and I’m happy that you did
‘Cause now I’m as free as birds catching the wind

I always thought I would sink, so I never swam
I never went boatin’, don’t get how they are floatin’
And sometimes I get so scared
Of what I can’t understand

But here I am
Next to you
The sky’s more blue
In Malibu
Next to you
In Malibu
Next to you, baby

We watched the sun go down as we were walking
I’d spend the rest of my life just standing here talking
You would explain the current as I just smile
Hoping that you’ll stay the same and nothing will change
And it’ll be us just for a while
Do they even exist?
That’s when I make the wish
To swim away with the fish

Is it supposed to be this hot all summer long?
I never would’ve believed you
If three years ago you told me
I’d be here writing this song

But here I am
Next to you
The sky’s so blue
In Malibu
Next to you
In Malibu
Next to you, baby

Next to you
The sky’s so blue
In Malibu, baby
Next to you

We are just like the waves that flow back and forth
Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning and you’re there to save me
And I wanna thank you with all of my heart

It’s a brand new start
A dream come true
In Malibu

How I made $2000 off a meth dealer.

A few years ago I was married to a degenerate tweeker (she wasn’t originally like that, but y'know, meth does what meth does).

I kept interfering with her tweeker lifestyle trying to get her treatment etc and she rewarded my efforts with a restraining order (lied, said I beat her and other overly dramatic stuff).

So, I get kicked out of my place and end up in a studio apartment with nothing but my toothbrush and the clothes I was wearing.

One of her great plans was to get a front for a ton of dope using EVERYTHING OF VALUE WE OWN as collateral.

Drug dealer literally takes everything and puts it in a storage unit somewhere in town. Wife plans to stomp on the dope, sell it and by the weekend be a millionaire (tweeker logic).

Of course, she fucks off the plan and ends up just doing the dope so now all our expensive stuff is in the wind.

I try to work out something with POS drug dealer but he wanted an absurd amount of payback, plus I made some threatening comments he didn’t appreciate so negotiations stalled.

Eventually, I catch wind that he got locked up and that some friends took all HIS property and put it in storage for safekeeping until he got out.

I hit every storage place in town with my story and his picture hoping to catch some kind of break.

Eventually, I find the place. Owner tells me that the unit is going up for auction the next weekend for non-payment. He tells me if I just pay the 3 months back rent that he’d write it up as I won the auction and I can have the unit.

$320 gets slapped on the counter and we go drill the lock.

All my stuff is there! And, whaddaya know, now I own all his stuff free and clear.

And, cuz I’m a nice guy, I dug out all the personal irreplaceable stuff (old photos, important documents, etc), boxed them up and gave them to his mom (found her on Facebook).

Actually made quite a bit of money off the deal selling his shit on Craigslist (came out about $2000 in the black on the deal).

Divorced now, have all my stuff and am happy….

Makeup Marichat May, Day 11. Age-up Marinette!

Title: Change
Word Count: 1,934

It’d been a while since he really saw her last. After they’d gone off to university, he’d had a hectic schedule that didn’t allow him much time to socialize with his friends from middle school or high school. Plus, with Nino away in Spain, and Alya’s web journalism internship they hardly had a chance to all get together.

Seeing her now, sitting on her balcony quietly consumed in sketching, Chat Noir was hit with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia.

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anonymous asked:

Hey! If you're still taking prompts, could you write about neil and Andrew having a conversation about Neil's past? Like the stuff he had to do to survive and the stuff he went through with the worlds shittiest parents? Also I'm pretty sure neil has killed people like it makes complete sense so maybe andreil talking about that?

There’s a band of pale blue light nipping at the tops of the trees and sharpening the silhouettes of the houses, but everything else is fresh and dark. Andrew smokes with the pack clenched in his fist, the cherry of the cigarette winking at the street lamps winking at the orange moon.

Their front porch isn’t like the rush of the rooftop, but he can get that same jitter of fear from Neil nowadays, and he’s more portable. He’d left him knotted in the bedsheets an hour ago, and knowing he’s inside somewhere at his back is burning him up. Andrew inhales and focuses on the exhale, the way the smoke still tries to hurt him when it should’ve given up. He likes that nicotine doesn’t leave him alone.

Neil slips out the front door and lets the screen door clatter, and Andrew knows that he’s upset before he sits down two steps below Andrew, holding his own head.

He doesn’t ask; just smokes fervently. The moon bobs its head sympathetically, wind catches the smoke and breaks it over Neil’s head like water on rocks.

It occurs to Andrew that Neil isn’t going to start this conversation, because he likes to think things through on his own, solve them wrong, and tell Andrew about his mistakes later. He’s insufferably convinced of his own problem-solving abilities, then obsessed with the mechanism of his own missteps.

“What?” Andrew asks impatiently. He flicks ash from his cigarette and holds it out in front of Neil’s face. Neil sidles through his own tangled thinking for long enough to glance up. He leans forward and sucks the smoke from between Andrew’s fingers.

When he looks away, gusting smoke from his open mouth, he says, “Matt called. We fought.”

You fought,” Andrew guesses.

Neil looks agitated, blue in the choked light, eyes black and furious. “He was being unfair. He keeps trying to tell me what’s right or wrong lately, because he thinks I’ve been— been deprived, like my experiences were outside of humanity, or morality, and it’s so— condescending.”

“You’re only realizing this now? All of the foxes are condescending. It is the only way they can avoid their own failure.”

“This was different,” Neil says, shaking his head. “I can tell when they’re saying things because they want to see my reaction, and this wasn’t that. He meant what he was saying.”

“And what was that?”

Neil goes gagged silent. He shifts backwards up to Andrew’s stair without looking at him, settling into the groove worn into the wood.

“That killing someone makes you a monster. That murder is the worst thing you can do to a person.”

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My Favorite Songs for the Signs

Some of my personal favorites! Hopefully there will be a few in here that you guys haven’t heard yet 💁 

check your moon sign too! 

Aries: “Pursuit of Happiness” by Kid Cudi (ft. MGMT & Ratatat)

“I’m on the pursuit of happiness.
And I know everything that shine ain’t always gonna be gold.
I’ll be fine once I get it.
I’ll be good.”

Taurus: “Smooth” by Santana (ft. Rob Thomas)

“And it’s just like the ocean under the moon
Oh, it’s the same as the emotion that I get from you
You got the kind of lovin’ that can be so smooth, yeah
Give me your heart, make it real or else forget about it.”

Gemini: “D.A.N.C.E.” by Justice 

“The way you move is a mystery
Do the dance
You’re always there for music and me
Do the dance.”

Cancer: “Young Folks” by Peter Bjorn & John 

“Usually when things have gone this far, people tend to disappear
No one will surprise me unless you do
I can tell there’s something goin’ on, hours seems to disappear
Everyone is leaving, I’m still with you.”

Leo:Runaway (U & I)” by Galantis 

"Think I can fly, think I can fly when I’m with you
My arms are wide, catching fire as the wind blows
I know that I’m rich enough for pride,
I see a billion dollars in your eyes.”

Virgo: “Middle” by DJ Snake (ft. Bipolar Sunshine)

“Staring at two different views on your window ledge
Coffee is going cold, it’s like time froze
There you go wishing, floating down our wishing well
It’s like I’m always causing problems, causing hell.”

Libra: “Trndsttr” (ft. M. Maggie) [Lucian Remix]

"Fire when the strobe hits you
Bet you’re looking for something new
Staring off across the room
Bet I’m a trendsetter, too.”

Scorpio: “Stop the World I Wanna Get Off With You” by Arctic Monkeys

“Well I know that getting you alone isn’t easy to do.
With the exception of you I dislike everyone in the room.
And I don’t wanna lie, but I don’t wanna tell you the truth.
Get the sense that you’re on the move.”

Sagittarius: “Lost” by Frank Ocean

"Girl you know you’re lost
Lost in the thrill of it all
Miami, Amsterdam
Tokyo, Spain, lost.”

Capricorn: “The Less I Know the Better” by Tame Impala 

"Oh my love, can’t you see yourself by my side
No surprise when you’re on his shoulder like every night
Oh my love, can’t you see that you’re on my mind
Don’t suppose we could convince your lover to change his mind.”

Aquarius: “I’m Amazed” by My Morning Jacket

"I’m amazed at all that has been
I’m amazed at all that will be
I’m amazed at the tv stations
I’m amazed what they want me to believe.”

Pisces:Hong Kong” by Gorillaz 

“You swallow me
I’m a pill on your tongue
Here on the nineteenth floor
The neon lights make me come.”

-Admin L

8

rebelcaptain appreciation week ✩ day four  alternate universe

After her parents are killed in a separatist prison, a six months-old Jyn Erso is rescued by Orson Krennic. He takes the infant girl back to Coruscant, looking for a suitable home for her. Senator Bail Organa and his wife eagerly bring her home, making her Jyn Erso-Organa, Princess of Alderaan.

When she is two years-old, Jyn gains a sister. Her name is Leia.

Jyn is an adventurous young girl, always tumbling through the snow, running around in the forests and trekking through the mountains of Alderaan. But, as a princess, she isn’t always able to do whatever her heart desires. A royal title comes with a lot of royal responsibilities.

When she finds out her father has secretly been a member of the rebel alliance, she wants nothing more than to join him in his fight against the empire. Listening in on one of his holo conferences with the alliance council, she catches wind of an imperial defector, a pilot, on Jedha. In the dead of the night, she slips away with a scarf tightly wrapped around her head.

Upon discovering his daughter has taken one of his ships and disappeared, Bail Organa sends one of the best alliance intelligence officers to try and locate her. Captain Cassian Andor.

I am not use to writing love poems
But since I met you
All I want to write about
Is the softness in your chocolate eyes
Or the way the wind catches your hair
Tousling it in a way I want to do with my
Fingers.
The air I breathe is sweeter
The colours, more vibrant,
Effervescent.
I wake up in the morning excited for the day
Where once I use to dread
the pale yellow light
Pooling into the room
Flooding it in a golden hue,
I find it beautiful
I can appreciate the warmth
The comfort of his arms wrapped
Protectively around my waist
Nose nuzzled into my neck
His soft breath tickling my hair.
Before I met him,
I use to fear water
But now all I want to do is
Swim.

reyes-vdal  asked:

if you still have your requests open, maybe companions react to Sole kissing them in order to keep quiet around enemies? maybe romanced companions too? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but fantastic blog btw c:

Cait: “Why don’t you shut your damn-” Sole cuts her off mid-hiss, stifling the angry whisper so the passing enemies don’t catch wind of her theatrics. Cait’s caught off-guard, and briefly considers throwing Sole off just out of spite. But, Sole’s lips are awfully nice. Tossing them into battle would just be rude. So, grudgingly, Cait lets herself be silenced, even returning the kiss near the end.

Codsworth: “Ah… Mx. Sole, I appreciate the intent, but putting your mouth on my speaker will not actually muffle the sounds. The reverberation inside my torso will-” A barrage of gunfire pelts the cover to their side. “I see that perhaps now was not the best time to correct you.”

Curie: Her squeak is adorable to say the least, and she turns very still, her hands curling into her pants, or the dirt if they’re lying on soft ground. Sole’s looking around her, keeping an eye on the enemies, but Curie is transfixed, baffled by this strange act of “kissing.” Sole has to gently pull away when she gets a little too distracted by experimenting with it.

Danse: The paladin isn’t mouthy at the best of times, but he must have been talking just a little too loud for Sole to hush him up just then. He doesn’t say anything. His cheeks flame red and he goes very still, thinking that he must be imagining what Sole just did. He’s almost thankful when the shooting starts, as it allows him to hide the burning color in his face.

Deacon: He pulls away, startled. The sound of his movement gives them away, and the pair have to scramble to fight off the baddies. Sole apologizes sheepishly, and Deacon waves them off with a embarrassed chuckle. “Sure, sure. I get what you were going for, and I know I’m irresistible-” He flashes finger guns at them. “-but you have to give me a little warning. Thanks.”

Dogmeat: He goes still, tail pointed up with Sole’s hands on his face and their lips on his nose. His ears point straight up, but he’s as quiet as can be. He’s a very good boy, and gets rewarded with headpats when the enemies pass. 

Hancock: Whatever he was saying becomes a pleased hum when Sole’s lips meet his. Without missing a beat, he returns the kiss, catching Sole off-guard, but not in a bad way. The ghoul might not have much lip left, but he knows how to use what he’s got. Poor Sole ends up being seduced after that. They should know better than to get a lecherous mayor in the mood.

Nick Valentine: He’s shocked. This is not something he’s had to deal with for a long time, though he can’t say he hasn’t thought about it. His hands flail for a minute, ghosting over Sole’s body before awkwardly resting on their hips. He feels like a schoolboy seeing his first boob all over again. Though, if Sole likes the flabbergasted look on his face, he could seeing a lot more than that later.

MacCready: Hot damn. He’s allowed to swear in his head, right? For a moment, he curses himself for not brushing his teeth yesterday. He never brushes his teeth, but he always thinks he will. And he should have done it yesterday. Now he just has to savor the feeling of Sole’s mouth until they pull away and he has to shoot some bastards with a tent in his jeans.

Piper: Her cheeks tint a pretty shade of pink. Her eyebrows lift, and she takes the moment to try and kiss… good. Kiss better? Kiss well? She’s not sure what the right word is. She ends up sticking her tongue in Sole’s mouth in an attempt to be “seductive,” which makes Sole burst into giggles and defeats the point of trying to be quiet anyway.

Preston: He goes quiet until the enemies’ footsteps fade away, then gently pulls back from Sole’s lips. “Take me out to dinner first?” he asks with a smile. He and Sole giggle, but then the giggles fade, and their eyes meet. The silence lasts a few seconds before Preston goes in for another kiss, and, well…

Strong: “HUMAN NOT EAT STRONG.” Whoopsie, now they’re being shot at. Poor Sole. They tried.

X6-88: When Sole pulls away, X6 sounds almost irritated. “There were better ways to handle that situation,” he says, though the annoyance is mostly to hide his surprise. No one’s ever kissed him like that before. No one’s ever kissed him before, period. Later, much later, he musters the confidence to ask: “So… what you did, three days ago. During the… stealth maneuver. What was your motivation behind that?”

aladyinblue  asked:

Can I ask for book recs? You've said before your reading is seasonal (which I find fascinating as it had never occurred to me it could be) and I'm quite curious to see what are summer reads for you. For most people summer reads are light and a no brainer, yet you said Brideshead revisited is meant to be read on summer. So, please, enlighten me because I wanna jump in the wagon of seasonal reading.

I’d be delighted!!!! Yes please let’s spread my eccentricities around the populace!

So for starters, not every book has a season, and some books belong to seasons for different reasons than others. Brideshead Revisited, for instance, would be a summer book for the same reason that one of the songs from Adrian Johnson’s score for the 2008 film is called ‘Always Summer’ — it’s to do with mood and theme and thoughts and the best season for feeling certain feelings.

A much clearer selection process is simply where the thing takes place. It’s environment matching — if it’s warm outside, I want to be reading things where the characters are also someplace warm. But interestingly, often the settings seem to sorta self-select for books that also match onto my ~seasonal mood~ pretty well! Fall books end up having a sort of classic quality, a combination of a good old fashioned haunting and that back-to-school feeling of a crisp October day. Spring, it turns out, is lyrical and shifting, books with a blossoming, intricate manner of storytelling. Winter we haven’t done yet — ask me again in winter! — and summer… summer might be flying and mirage.

Summer Reads

Category 1: The Only Way We Can Talk About The War Is With Magical Realism (one of my favorite genres of all time)

The English Patient - Ondaatje, Michael
If you are only familiar with this as the movie with Ralph Fiennes, let me change your world: there was a novel first, and holy heck is it a whole other and wondrous thing. This is one of my very, very favorite books. It is GORGEOUS. It is strange. There’s layered narration, unreliable narration, skips in time and place, but the novel is anchored in its characters, who form something of a contemplative quartet: a Canadian Army nurse, her mysterious and badly burned patient, a Sikh British army sapper, and a thief named Caravaggio, all sheltering together in an abandoned Italian villa during the last months of WWII.

Corelli’s Mandolin - de Bernières, Louis
This was a typically flawless recommendation from Mr. Dorman, my high school English teacher who shows up on this blog from time to time. It takes place on a Greek island during WWII, and is just rich in history and personalities and feeling. It’s transporting — brilliantly written, so funny, and I think I might have cried for about 50 pages near the end. It also has a quartet of fabulous characters: the oddball doctor who is trying to write a history of the island, his bright and educated daughter, the charming musician Captain Corelli, and an Italian soldier named Carlo who is like an Ancient Greek tragedy brought to life.

Catch-22 - Heller, Joseph
Honestly has anything in literature ever been as good as what Heller did with Snowden. Can anything even touch that. Merely for that piece alone this would probably be the greatest novel ever written. Listen, Catch-22 is a masterpiece. It will harrow you to the bone, it will make you wail in anguished frustration, and it will make you laugh and laugh and laugh, unto the ending of the world. Most simply it is about a squadron of Army pilots trying to survive WWII. More broadly it is about trauma and humanity. Oh and our main character is a Middle-Eastern American, and here are the very first lines of the novel, also one of the true greats of our time: “It was love at first sight. The first time Yossarian saw the chaplain he fell madly in love with him.”


Category 2: Memoirs of Pilots Flying Over Deserts During the Golden Age of Aviation

Wind, Sand and Stars - de Saint-Exupéry, Antoine
Yes, this is the memoir of the author of A Little Prince, a real life aviator who flew mail across the African Sahara and South American Andes. He tells stories about flying and friendship and muses on life, and it is all just breakingly beautiful. A sample line: “When I opened my eyes I saw nothing but the pool of night sky, for I was lying on my back with out-stretched arms, face to face with that hatchery of stars.”

West With the Night - Markham, Beryl
I have extolled the virtues of BERYL MARKHAM and her fabulous memoirs before — those facts stand. I will add though, for both her and de Saint-Exupéry, that while they have such sincere fondness and respect for their African friends and colleagues, they do occasionally write about them in a way that feels out-dated and out-of-touch. There is an air of the “noble savage” in some of their stories, which is a hoary old problem that often plagued well-meaning white writers of their time. So, a heads up for that.


Category 3: The Americans

The Great Gatsby - Fitzgerald, F. Scott
If you have not reread The Great Gatsby since high school, I can sincerely recommend doing so, and in the height of summer if possible. Quoting myself from my Baz Luhrmann 4th of July last year, Gatsby is the great American daydream: fabulously indulgent, ironic, biting, somehow gaudy and gauzy at once, hilarious, inadvertent, morbid, and hiding at its core an embarrassing sentimentality, which it will try to drown in champagne and pools as soon as you’ve seen it. 

The Talented Mr. Ripley - Highsmith, Patricia
This is probably the wellntruly equivalent of a vacation read, if your vacation is in Italy and the shadows cast by the sun are a touch too dark and something about the way the condensation traces paths down your Campari & soda feels unaccountable sinister, and you’re cool with it.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find (short story collection) - O’Connor, Flannery
Southern Gothic time, little ones! You’ve seen the “[blank] gothic” posts on this website before, and here’s what 99% of them miss: not just what is dark and twisted in the environment, but what is dark and twisted in the hearts of the people. Southern Gothic is social commentary, and Southern Gothic is fucked up, and the undisputed queen of the genre is Flannery O’Connor. These are stories that will stay with you long after you’ve retreated from their dusty, sweltering heat.

Slouching Towards Bethlehem - Didion, Joan
We’re breaking into journalism here with a collection of essays by the inimitable — although god knows we all try — Joan Didion. If you are at all interested in California, or the 1960s, or the craft of writing, you can do no better than Joan Didion. Joan Didion! I just want to repeat her name like an hosanna. Here you can read her on the Santa Ana right now.

Happiness Is Homemade

also on Ao3


MooMaw’s kitchen is always filled with light.

It’s pouring through the windows above the sink and filtering through the blue and white checked curtains that hang above it.

Eric sits on the counter, right in the middle of a sun beam, and swings his little feet against the cabinets below as he licks brownie batter off a wooden spoon.

MooMaw has the phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear as she uses a spatula to scrape the last of the batter into the pan.

The cord stretches from the wall and Eric extends a sock covered foot out towards it and tries to touch it with his toes.

It sags before he can get to it as she steps forward and takes the spoon from him.

He only has a second to pout before she’s putting the spatula in the bowl and the bowl in his lap and ruffling his hair.

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