catching wind

I wanna run
Chase the 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓃 when I’m with you
Give it all away
Catching 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 as the wind blows
I know that I’m rich enough for pride,
I see a billion dollars in your 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈
Even if we’re strangers ‘til we die

I wanna run away
I wanna run away

Anywhere out this 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒
I wanna run away

𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 & 𝓘

I was happy but happy is an adult word. You donโ€™t have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you.

anonymous asked:

ANDREW ACCIDENTALLY CALLING NEIL CUTE IN FRONT OF THE FOXES P L E A S E

IT IS OFFICIALLY MY SEMESTER BREAK!!!!!! ajfhdajkhfdajh this is the best prompt EVER let me have this self-indulgent headcanon

  • the foxes, because they like a.) challenges and b.) making money out of these challenges, get the idea to play Andreil Trope Bingo
  • nicky starts it, purely out of boredom, as well as out of the desire to spite kevin for being too exy-focused even if the season’s over
  • he creates a card with things like “andrew buying food for neil” “neil smiling behind andrew’s back” “one talking about the other when the other is not there” “andrew hurting someone for neil” “rooftop date” “andreil going late to practice together”
  • after the whole team making edits to the bingo card, a copy is given to everyone
  • word gets around, but as andrew and neil are two of the most oblivious people in the world, they don’t catch wind of it
  • eventually, everybody (including wymack and bee) gets in on it, because the pot rises to be two grand (can you guys believe? two fucking grand for a couple’s trope bingo)
  • they make it a race of sorts - as andrew and neil aren’t normally affectionate in public (neil being the more touchy of the two, but still severely lacking in comparison to the stereotype of Normal Couples), they all have to be there at certain times of the day
  • dan clearly established the “no fishing rule” at the start but some of them can’t help themselves - they’re just really lucky sometimes
  • renee is the first to check “andrew wearing one of neil’s shirts” after she notices at their weekly sparring session
  • aaron (unluckily enough) gets the first shot at “andreil making out by the lockers” after his shift to tidy up the court
  • nicky is first witness at “one being lowkey possessive over the other” when he catches a glimpse of andrew frowning down someone at the bar for checking out neil
  • at the end of it all, they’re all left with one box blank
  • “andrew calling neil cute”
  • and everybody is just ??????
  • because andrew would never do that. not in a million years
  • only neil seems like the type to do so - but even neil hasn’t said anything of the sort
  • everybody’s panicking because they’re all so close yet so far away
  • fast forward; it’s been a little over a month since everyone’s only got that last box blank, and they’ve all been fishing
  • matt has asked, on multiple occasions, what andrew thought of neil when he smiled
  • allison has pointed out how good neil looked when she gave him her last haircut
  • bee even got ahold of neil’s baby pictures and showed them to andrew on a visit of his
  • wymack, at some point, tried asking if “cute” was really the specific word they all needed to hear (”What if he says ‘adorable’? You know Minyard gets all wordy at some point.”)
  • they all flail around for another week until the foxes’ weekly movie night
  • it happens on a thursday at neil and andrew’s room, because it was their turn
  • everyone is seated around the television, either on armchairs, the sofa, or on beanbags
  • neil coughs and pounds his chest
  • andrew gets up from the sofa so fast and gets neil a glass of water
  • upon getting the glass, neil goes “Ah.That was just a test. Thanks for putting in the effort.”
  • neil is smirking and all, thinking he’s so clever, the cheeky bastard
  • and no one is prepared for andrew’s “Mmm. That’s cute. Move over.”
  • everybody is suddenly scrambling for their cards in their pockets
  • IT’S LIFE OR DEATH AT THIS POINT, PEOPLE
  • THAT LAST BOX IS ALL THAT M A T T E R S
  • nicky is like “Shit shit shit shit shit shit–”
  • kevin frustratingly goes “Where the fuck is my pen–”
  • bee is like “That’s unfair, I didn’t bring my card!”
  • it’s dan-the-legend-wilds that gets to cross out the box first and she yells (half-drunkenly) “BingobingobingobingoBINGO MOTHERFUCKERS!!”
  • matt’s like “Babe we’re going halfsies on that right–” while allison yells “THAT”S GOING INTO OUR NAIL POLISH FUND!”
  • wymack is in the moment and is like “Dan, you’re sharing with me, or you’re out of the fucking team.”
  • renee is groaning and shaking her head while aaron is just shrugging and texting katelyn he lost
  • in the midst of the chaos and debating-who-got-it-first is andrew and neil, clueless as fuck, staring at them all and at one another
  • neil is blinking in confusion while andrew is stony-faced
  • they go out of the room and leave the madness that is the foxes coming up with another bet and searching for money in their wallets

I know we’re all shipping Lancelot, but can we imagine Lotor flirting with Keith instead of Lance. Imagine Lotor calling him nicknames like “Pretty Boy” and breaking into his personal space. All in all, Keith is very annoyed and uncomfortable. Lance catches wind of this when he finds Lotor messing with Keith when he’s training. Lance is NOT happy.

Lotor: “Come on, Pretty Boy, stop training and hang out with me~.”
Keith: “No, Lo–”
Lance: “HOLD ON. THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN CALL KEITH PRETTY IS ME. I AM HURT KEITH. HURT.”
Keith: “… You think I’m pretty?”
Lotor: “oh shit”

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
—  H. Jackson Brown Jr.

Okay so, Yuuri is ultra protective of Yurio and once he catches wind that Otabek and Yurio are crushing on each other a talk has to be had.

Yuuri: Otabek? Can we have a chat? In private?
Otabek: Sure.
Yuuri: If you hurt or take advantage of Yuri, I will personally make sure you don’t place in another international competition for the remainder of your skating career. Do I make myself clear?
Otabek: *terrified but nods* Yes sir.

macreadee  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? ( อก° อœส– อก°) 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?”

Some calming videos and music I’ve been using

In case anyone needs something to help relax:

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
—  Mark Twain

anonymous asked:

I saw a post a while back where Graves did die but hung around as a ghost. Would be curious to hear your take on it!

There’s something wrong with MACUSA. Something out of sync, something that little bit on edge, something… wrong.

Newt walks through the vaulted halls with Tina tugging impatiently on his elbow and it brushes icy fingers down his cheek. Tangles in his hair, catching his head and making him turn to look. Slips around his ankles and pulls at his feet as though it could carry him away.

Tina looks back at him, mouth set in a hard line and eyebrow raised, and he hurries to catch up. Something winds through the fingers she’s gripped around Newt’s arm, cold and sharp and insistent and -

There’s something wrong with MACUSA, but no one’s noticed. Newt hesitates a second too long, gaze flicking that little bit too far to the left where no one’s waiting to catch his eye, shoulders twitching in an involuntary shiver when it hovers curiously around his neck. He notices. He schools his expression to hide it, but. He notices. And it notices him.

He keeps his attention locked on Tina, his hands clutching tightly at his case but not tightly enough to be suspicious, and pretends he doesn’t see it. It floods over his eyes and fills his mouth, stoppers his nose and suffocates him, but in reality there’s nothing there and Newt keeps his breathing steady. He nods in appropriate places and signs on the dotted lines so Tina can process his wand permit, stands awkwardly to one side when she tries to hide from Abernathy, allows the rush of actions and conversations flow over him, and pretends he can’t feel the air scraping against his frozen lungs as it coils in his chest and waits.

Tina presents his case to Director Graves. The man flicks him a dismissive look and Newt’s heart stutters as something seethes with rage. He hunches in on himself and remembers to breath.

Then Graves opens the case and inside are pastries, the muggle’s pastries, and Tina drags him out to find the muggle that took his case and Newt smiles winningly at her and admits that it may have been open, just a smidge, and everything happens too fast to think about MACUSA’s something wrong.

In the court room, Graves holds out his hand and Newt’s case flies into it and something rises black and ugly in his thoughts and snarls at the thief for daring to take –

“Tina,” he says carefully, leaning against the walls of the holding cell and trying not to acknowledge it. “Have you noticed something different in MACUSA recently?”

She throws him an aggravated look and thinks he’s talking about something else. It curls around his wrists and tries to pull on his hands, straightens the fingers out to bend them into shapes. Newt slides balled fists into his pocket and thinks, as loudly as he dares, that it should leave him alone because there’s nothing he can do to help. It shushes him soothingly and rests on his knuckles like a lover’s kiss.

It winds around his neck when he sits across the table from Graves, curling up into the bone of his jaw, teases out the jagged edges of his teeth. He tilts his head down to hide their sharp points and mumbles, but he’s not even sure if the others could see the change either way. Graves brings the obscurus in with a wave of his hand and there’s a moment of puzzled confusion, then memories, pictures, knowledge flying through his mind. He relives four months spent promising a child he could help and failing to deliver; they flick past in lightning seconds.

And… there is sympathy, perhaps. A faded echo of his own grief, a malevolent watchfulness as it coils around him and snarls in his mind at the witches who lead him away. It reaches for his hands again, lengthening his fingernails to claws, and sinks into the bones as though it could lift his hands up for him and strike –

Newt keeps his fists clenched until blood runs down his wrists from the claws that don’t exist. Pickett frees him and he frees Tina and they run through the halls to where Queenie has freed Jacob, and the swooping evil takes down one of the aurors chasing them but two more stumble and fall and no one notices.

No one notices.

Queenie asks him about Leta and Newt screams his thoughts about something wrong in MACUSA and Queenie tells him he needs a giver, not a taker, and no one notices. It settles in his mind and curls around his fear and cradles it, hushes it, smothers it, until Newt’s hands shake and he buries his fingers in Frank’s feathers as though clinging on for his life and begs it to stop but it won’t.

Any icy touch runs over the scars on his back and promises him retribution, promises him he doesn’t have to be afraid again, promises him no one will hurt him again, and Newt hides under Frank’s wings and tells himself like a mantra that there’s something wrong with him, even if no one has noticed.

It drips down his spine in patient indulgence and traces the arch of his hips beneath his coat, and not even Frank’s Arizonan sun is enough to keep Newt warm.

Then - the obscurus, tearing through the city; the rush of apparition, of running, of chasing and finding and helping. It simmers, watchful and suspicious while he tries to talk Credence down; it rises in a vengeful wave when Graves holds his wand on Newt and makes him writhe; it floods into the floor and the ceiling and the walls and vines grow from every surface with poison dripping from their flailing thorns –

Newt screams –

The tendrils hover over Graves, spit and call him thief and murderer, and in the corner Credence backs away and dissolves in fear and there’s something wrong with MACUSA

Newt opens his magic to it and it solidifies into existence. For a long, drawn out moment there are two Graves. The one in his sharp suit steps back in horror, the other grins through the blood running down his face, and the shadows swarm with gaping maws behind him.

When Newt wakes, he is carried in someone’s arms. His magic is a pitiful wisp at the bottom of his reserves, flickering out as soon as it regenerates, and the hands that hold him are cold like carved marble. He can see the rain hitting the pavement and the headlights of the cars driving past, but he doesn’t know where he is. He can’t see the man that carries him.

“Shh,” the man whispers to him, brushing his hair out of his face with a tendril of inky shadow. It leaves a tacky smear, something cloying and sweet, and when Newt gasps for air nothing rattles through his hollow chest. He’s cold. The world fades in and out and his magic is draining into the dead man that carries him, there’s rain hitting the pavement but Newt feels nothing against his skin, the muggles drive past in their cars and hurry past in their coats and Graves - the real Graves - carries Newt through the crowds with darkness swirling around his feet.

There’s something wrong in New York city, and it cradles Newt against its chest like a precious thing and coaxes him back to sleep.

No one notices.

REQUEST: can i request a Dean, Crush, and Zico reaction to their girlfriends teasing them in public?? ;))

Dean: He’d taken notice of what you were doing, nodding before showing you a taste of your own medicine, tossing you looks and smirks. Licking his lips and running his hands through his hair whenever you made eye contact.

Originally posted by deantheofficial

Crush: This dude right here Okay so, he’d notice but chose to hold you close instead, soft brushes of his lips against your neck and cheek before he would breath out a soft whisper into your ear- “You okay, princess? You need me to touch you? Mhm?”

Originally posted by clubeskimo

Zico: So like, to me he seems like the guy who doesn’t catch on to the teasing quickly, but when he does, he acts on it. He’ll catch wind of what you were trying to do and smirk to himself before pulling you close to him. He subtly tease back, like gently squeezing your waist or brushing his hand over your ass, maybe grabbing it a little. He’d get you all worked up before stopping everything and pulling away, opting to make you wait until later when you guys get some alone time

Originally posted by ostrichyung