dusty fields


Seems these old hills
They keep on calling
Clouds ‘round here talk
Man I been listening


Hey remember that time in a kid’s movie where the main character joined the military to impress a girl and ended up being the only survivor by a fluke and had to pick up his only buddy’s severed head to talk him through his last moments and promised to find his body while gazing out over a grey and dusty field of thousands of slaughtered soldiers knowing he’d never be able to keep his promise?

Essays in Existentialism: FtWD IX

All through the town, the silence of the new world slunk, filling streets somberly, rolling around with the faded trash and debris, prowling on fences and painting windows with dust and decay. The entire world was brown, clumps of dead lawns, upturned dirt, dead branches– it all blurred into the same shade inevitably.

Keep reading


Request: #2 with BamBam.♥️

2) “Okay…so like…there’s only a 30% chance that we’ll die.”

Member: Got7′s BamBam x Y/N

Type: Fluff

You looked over fondly to the group of musicians idling around the set. It was a warm day, the sun’s merciless rays beating down on anyone in it’s path. You sighed as you held to the side of the canopy your fellow staff were trying to set up, refocusing on the struggling man before you.

“Aish, I just can’t get it to click,” the manager grumbled, pushing at the canopy arm again. 

“Aigoo, move!” you chuckled, bumping into his hip with yours. In a few breaths, you clicked the arm of the tent into place and stood back triumphantly. 

“You’re just used to setting this stuff up, I’ve never done it before,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. 

“Yes, as a makeup artist, I have such impressive experience with setting up canopies,” you giggled sarcastically, nodding as another staff member passed a bottle of water toward you. The manager rolled his eyes before shuffling off across the dusty field, finding one of the Got7 boys to pick on instead of you. 

You smiled to yourself as you looked down at your bottle. You loved your job, but you loved the people you worked with even more. JYP artists weren’t lying when they constantly referenced the “JYP Family.” It really was a family atmosphere, and even though more than half of you weren’t idols, you treated each other equally. 

Your hands slid along the cap of the water in your hands and you grumbled, unable to get a firm grip. 

“Setting up tents on your own, but unable to work a water bottle,” a familiar voice chided from behind you. You spun, instantly grinning as you saw BamBam, your favorite member of Got7, had appeared. 

And that favoritism had nothing to do with looks. 

Alright, well maybe it had a little to do with looks, but it wasn’t the sole reason. 

Ever since you had moved to Korea and managed to secure a position as a makeup artist for JYP, the maknae line of Got7 had always tried to accommodate you. You were their favorite makeup noona, constantly requesting you when they had events or personal schedules. They had a funny way of making Korea feel like home. 

Although some people may have considered it inappropriate, your relationship with BamBam had always been a bit flirtatious. The man made it through life smooth talking, so it wasn’t necessarily a surprise when he began to focus on wooing you, whether it be in person or over text. You enjoyed flirting as well, especially considering you were the older of the two and were delighted by the idea of a younger man being attracted. 

“You think you could do better?” you asked, lifting your brows and slamming the cold water against Bam’s crossed arms. 

“With these guns?” he grinned, grabbing the water bottle and flexing his free arm. He was in a regular t-shirt, sleeves ripped off, so you couldn’t help but eye his muscles as the pulsed beneath his tanned skin. 

“Alright noona,” he grumbled, twisting on the cap angrily. He furrowed his brow as the cap refused to budge. He eyed the bottle questionably for a moment before biting at the lid cautiously, attempting to turn it with the force of his teeth. 

“Ah! No, no, no!” you gasped, pulling the bottle from his hands. “They would kill me if I let you chip a tooth” 

“Who’s they?” BamBam muttered, looking up moodily from his now empty hands. 

“Your managers, your mother, your members,” you muttered, attempting to go at the water bottle again. 

“The members would laugh…and so would my mother probably,” he chuckled, taking the water back from you. He gave it another good yank and finally pulled the cap loose, nearly soaking himself in the process. 

“Thanks!” you gasped, taking it from his hands and gulping a long sip. You offered it to him afterwards, allowing him to waterfall a sip from the bottle and into his mouth. “But anyway, what do you need? Makeup touched up?” 

“What? I can’t just come over and see my favorite noona?” BamBam asked, batting his eyelashes. 

“Aish, you know I hate when you call me that. It means you want something,” you grumbled. “What is it?” 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” he continued, his voice oozing compliments. 

“Have I told you how gullible I don’t look?” you laughed. “Come on Bammie, out with it!” 

“So, you know the big rocks over there on the edge of the clearing that they didn’t want us to take pictures on because it was too unsafe well i really want someone to help me take a picture there for my Instagram and Jinyoung said it would be okay if I was with an adult, but the adult couldn’t be him, so I asked Mark hyung and Jackson hyung and Jaebum hyung and they all said no, and I don’t trust Youngjae, but I trust you and will you help me?” he breathed out quickly. You looked at him with wide eyes, attempting to process the word vomit he just projected toward you. 

“I…uh…” you stuttered, blinking rapidly. 

“You’d have to go on one of the rocks too to get the right angle and I’m thinking…okay…so like…there’s only a 30% chance that we’ll die and slip off the rocks and careen to our deaths. But at the same time, I’d be okay dying with you if I had to die with someone, you know?” he rambled, not looking up from his shoes. 

“I’m unsure if I’m the most coordinated person to take a picture of you in a dangerous situation,” you hummed, tilting your head. “Although I am flattered that you don’t hate the idea of dying with me, I’d prefer if neither of us died?” 

“Live on the edge, Y/N!” BamBam hummed, looking up. “The literal edge. Of that cliff…now come on.”

He grabbed your wrist and began tugging you past his members and toward the rocks in question. 

“Jinyoungie,” you groaned, tugging on the man’s shirt as you passed by. “I am not the designated adult. Why am I the designated adult?”

“Be safe!” Jinyoung called out, not even bothering to look up from his phone as you were pulled away from him. 

“BamBam, I swear,” you groaned, not being able to tug your hand out from his firm grasp. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed, finally reaching the rocks he wanted to climb. “It won’t be so bad. Plus, think of how pretty the view will be from up there. Granted no view could possibly be prettier than you right no-”

“Shove the sweet talk and start climbing,” you muttered, ripping your wrist from his fingers. “I can get a picture from down here.”

“No! You have to come up here!” BamBam whined. “It’s pointless if you aren’t up here with me.”

“Is your instagram really that important?” you moaned with a small stomp. 

“Well…I mean I have Snapchat too…” he mumbled. 

You winced as you looked to BamBam who was now focusing entirely on you. He reached forward and took his hand in yours and sighed. “If you’re scared, you don’t have to help me. I guess you can chaperone from the ground.” 

You sighed as well, looking from your hands intertwined and back up to his face. “I wouldn’t be a very good noona if I made you go it alone, would I?” 

“You’re a good noona anyway,” he grinned, leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on your cheek before scrambling up the nearest rock. 

You grumbled to yourself as you climbed behind him, careful to watch his footsteps and follow the same path he had taken. BamBam was lanky, so his reach was fairly different from yours as you moved along, making it a bit more difficult for you to follow as fluidly as he moved. You both slipped several times, but nothing bad enough to startle you and cause you to climb back down. 

“Almost there,” BamBam groaned. “You’re doing wonderful.”

“How would you know,” you grumbled. “You’ve been in front of me this whole time.” 

“You’re right, I should have made you go up first. I would’ve had a much better view-”

“Bam!” you gasped. 

“What I meant to say was, you have a great view from there, right?” he chuckled. 

“I hate you.”

“Hate is a strong-” he began. 

“I hate the situation you put me in,” you muttered. “Admittedly, I could never hate you.” 

“Thank you,” he nodded, finally pulling himself up on the top most rock. He instantly spun, offering his hands to you so he could help you the rest of the way. 

“Nope, back to hating you again,” you groaned, allowing BamBam to pull you up. You were so winded, you plopped forward onto the flat, warm rock and attempted to catch your breath. 

“Y/N,” BamBam cooed, reaching down and tapping your shoulder impatiently. “You have to see this.”

“I have to figure out if I’m still breathing first,” you groaned. 

“You’re talking, so I assume you’re still breathing. Now stand up,” he laughed, grabbing your hand and beginning to tug. 

“Be careful! Didn’t you remember your speech from earlier? The one that involved slipping off the rocks and careening toward our deaths?” you complained. 

BamBam rolled his eyes as he readjusted his grip and helped you up more carefully. You stepped gingerly to your feet and clung to his arm as you began to look around. Realistically you were only a few yards from the ground and you could easily see the boys of Got7 ambling around across the field the rocks were on the outskirts of. You turned the opposite way to face the scenery BamBam had alluded to previously. 

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked down, noticing the deep, cavernous slope that led from the rocks and toward a quick-flowing stream. You looked further out to the patchwork fields stretching around you, different shades of green and brown filling your vision. 

“Bam…this is…breathtaking,” you whispered, unsure of where your eyes should focus first. 

You looked over to BamBam who had remained quiet since you had stood. His gaze lingered on your face, only breaking once he had realized you knew he was watching you. 

“Yeah…” he whispered, looking away and toward the view. “Breathtaking.” 

“Want me to take your picture now?” you asked slowly, trying not to let an awkward feeling fill the air. It was an odd emotion, especially when BamBam was involved. Things were never tense between the two of you, but you didn’t know how to take the new type of electricity dominating the air. 

“Nah,” he breathed, biting his lips. “I think…I think sometimes things are too beautiful to be captured in a picture…and it wouldn’t do the situation justice.”

BamBam reached up slowly, wrapping a careful arm around your shoulders before he pulled you in close. He kissed your temple lightly before chewing on his lip again. “I guess that’s why I’ve never taken a picture with you before.”

“Aigoo,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Make the the noona climb the rock and then hit on her once she can’t escape.”

“Have you ever considered…for once, I may just be a teeny bit serious?” BamBam grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“Never,” you smiled, knowing it would drive him nuts. This was the most genuine you had ever seen him in the entirety of your friendship. If he was legitimately trying to confess some sort of feelings toward you, you were unsure if you were ready. “I’ll race you down.” 

You sprung free from Bam’s hand still placed around you and began to scramble back down the way you had came. 

BamBam closed his eyes before letting out a loud groan. “Why do you make this so hard?”

You grinned, shooting him a wink before you climbed down and out of sight. 

Originally posted by jypnior

Upstate NY Gothic

- There are seagulls in the parking lot of your local Wegman’s. They are picking at something. You do not want to know what it is. As you walk past, their heads swivel to follow you. You shiver and hurry faster.

- The wind whistles outside your window. A train whistles outside your window. You do not live near the train tracks. You pull the blanket over your head and close your eyes, whispering it can’t get me, it can’t get me until you can’t hear it anymore.

- You pass farms on your way to work. Each dusty farmhouse has expansive fields of golden stalks and green pastures full of grazing cows. You’ve never seen a farmer. No one has ever seen a farmer.

- Winter is colder than you ever remember it being. The school’s heaters are all broken. The boys still wear their basketball shorts to school. Their eyes are blank. They do not blink when you wave a hand in front of their eyes. They do not feel the cold. They do not feel anything.

- You do not know what makes Greek yogurt any better than regular yogurt, but everyone else does. “Just try it,” they tell you. “You’ll see. I swear by Chobani.” The only yogurt you can find anymore is Greek yogurt. “Just try it,” they say, pushing you further into the display case, their eyes as cold as the metal digging into your back. There is nothing but Greek yogurt.


Summer Clouds and Wheat, Whitman County, WA by 4 Corners Photo
Via Flickr:
Summer clouds gather over a freshly harvested wheat field in Whitman County, Washington.

This Ride is a Wild One

Smutty Jack Barakat Imagine - requested by Anon (like 7 months ago oops i’m sorry), hope you like it regardless!
Request: Is there anyway you could do a Jack imagine when we are driving on a roadtrip and jack sneaks his hand over into the girls pants. Things escalate and they have to pull over on the side of the road to take care of their frustrations!
Word Count: 1,714
Warning: Mature Content & Vulgar Language
I apologise greatly for the title ahahahahah

Send me an All Time Low imagine request

If you read & enjoy, please leave a like to show support!♡

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For the prompt, maybe meeting at a music festival?

OKAY LOOK.  LOOK.  I LOVE YOU FOR THIS.  At first I was like, ehhhh….   But then after a moment my mind supplied the Blink182 song.  And then just ran with it, because I love the headlong, breathless euphoria of it, and also it’s summer  and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the awesome rock festivals my coworkers used to go to (I’m a night and weekends worker lmao) that I only managed to hit once or twice, but really, it’s the kind of experience you never forget.  Also I know it’s been done before, but *I* have never done it before, lol.

ANYWAY. HAPPY AKUROKU DAY Y’ALL.  I had fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy.

the rock show

The thing about summer was:

It was short.  It was hot and sticky and sometimes miserable, but mostly it was bright and wild and you couldn’t squander it because there was always something happening all the time (unless you worked nights and weekends, and then you were just SOL).  There was beer and pott and back yard barbeques, trendy pop-up gardens that made Axel feel both old and young at the same time, tiny grungy too-hot clubs, sweet sea salt ice cream that he couldn’t get over any more than he could get over Saix (but Roxas liked them, too), and the clatter of skateboards on concrete.

Probably his favorite part were the festivals.

Because it was summer they were open-air, sometimes in amphitheaters and sometimes open fields, with stages even more temporary than the season, and somehow though they were so fleeting, there was something timeless in the chaos, in the sun beating down until he yanked off his black shirt, in the press of bodies tumbling against each other to the cacophony of electric guitars and their own euphoric screaming.

Keep reading

This, um, this turned out less fluffy than you’d requested. I apologize, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

“When you said you had some extra property in New York, this wasn’t exactly what I imagined.” Steve stared at the building, which certainly wasn’t tall, but was eye-catching insomuch as it was completely surrounded by skyscrapers and had a proper yard in the heart of New York. No. Yard wasn’t the right word. It had grounds, the same way Buckingham Palace had grounds.

“It was my dad’s mansion back before he moved corporate headquarters out to California. It was just gathering dust so I figured, you know, might as well.” Tony replied, shrugging nonchalantly in the way he did when he was trying to pretend something didn’t matter that much to him.

Steve left it alone, studying the black wrought iron sign over the main gate. “Maria Stark Foundation.” Pages and pages of Tony’s history carefully kept hidden away. Steve wasn’t sure if he’d ever be permitted to read them all, but he wanted to try. Oh how he wanted to try.

Keep reading

The Signs as Beautiful Things

. Aries -the wings on an eagle. The smell of fresh air. A hike above the clouds.
Taurus -a field covered in wild flowers. A tent lightly kissed with dew. The smell and sound of a camp fire.
Gemini -the strum of a guitar. The smell of lavender. The feel of fresh warm laundry. A babbling brook rolling through weather worn rocks.
Cancer -the sound of music on the breeze. The feel of a relaxing nap. The smell of cinnamon. A waterfall cascading over a cave.
Leo -the feel of a warm day on the beach. The sound of a violin. The smell of pine. A trail that winds through a canyon.
Virgo -the smell of dew in the morning. The song of the cricket at night. The colorful flash of a cardinal flying by.
Libra -a warm blanket. The smell of a good book. The sound of a song bird. A wood planked trail through an overgrown forest.
Scorpio -the sound of winds. A dusty road surrounded by fields. The smell of spring. A walk barefoot through the grass.
Sagittarius -Butterflies fluttering. The smell of chocolate. The crunch of autumn leaves. The sound of a lone loon calling in the night.
Capricorn -a star filled sky. The feel of lying in the grass. The smell of freshly baked cookies. A twinkling celestial body in the distance.
Aquarius -the feel of warm sand between the toes. The kiss of wind on waves. The smell of new flowers. The sound of a field full of crickets.
Pisces -the hoot of an owl. A long song that dances through the air and whispers majestically in the ear. A small trail that wanders through the woods carved by animals.

Challenge 26: Sacred Summoning

Texture; abrasive, unwelcoming, resistant – in a word? Thorny. If it’s good enough for Jesus to wear for his crown.. 

Season; long after the rejuvenation and growth of spring, this season gives way to too-long, too-hot days, drying foliage, inviting drought, turning once bountiful fields to dusty barren scrub – late summer, the tinder just waiting for a spark, the air too thick and heavy to breathe. 

Plant; fatal if eaten, a cardiac poison, yet the most widely grown non-food plant in the world – nicotiana tabacum, or tobacco. With five million deaths a year attributed to its use, this one leaves all other deadly plants behind.

Crystal; hard yet brittle, fracturing into sharp edges, used in everything from crude weaponry to surgeon’s scalpels and considered an absorber of negativity – obsidian, also known as volcanic glass. 

First hour.
There’s grit in your mouth from the dusty training field
and your mother’s cautionary tale about the military being hell
echoes in your head, even as you pretend not to believe it.
You’ve never been a good liar, especially to yourself.
First day.
You learn that your limbs are valueless,
your blades easily dulled, your boots need patching,
but that deceit is invaluable. You meet a boorish boy
who’s also terrible at lying; somehow, you like his chaos.
First month.
Three dead, and you faint over your
first body, seeing it there as lies gather about whether
the instructor actually cut the safety line.
Flies swarm, and you count your heartbeats carefully.
First year.
There are lies in your mouth about what happened to Krista,
about how you don’t faint under duress; promise that you won’t fail.
But the webs you consider weaving are badly constructed and weak,
and you know it is not how you will succeed.
Top Ten.
You wonder what unicorns dream of once they’re truly myths,
about how a man earns the right to wear the insignia of the Military Police.
But you also dream of yourself as a myth, and the dust you survived
chokes you, becomes poison you swallow in your sleep.
Last day.
As hell swirls below Trost’s broken rooftops, you pause to ask an honest question
into the rose-tipped clouds—what are we fighting for?
You ask, despite knowing it has no answer, knowing that philosophy isn’t for soldiers.
But you can always lie about being faint of heart behind a bullet.
Last minute.
You don’t know you’re going to die until you’re crying.
You hear a demand, then question in Reiner’s voice, like a child.
There is death from above and from below,
and you wonder, just for a moment, what other lies you would have told.
—  Marco Bodt Appreciation Week, Day 2, Prompt: “Feint of steel/faint of heart”

“I’m not going to say that the Fire Department won the softball game because of me this year, but you cannot deny the coincidence.” Sam was in a better mood than she had been in ages. She was dusty from the field, and had a couple stains, but she felt alive. She had missed playing sports and knew that she’d have to figure out how to incorporate that into her routine from now on. The things that gave her pleasure were few and far between these days. But being part of the fire department had made her feel part of something again. And being on the team had been even better. She could have run around the diamond all day. It was a wonder what being a vampire could do for your strength and stamina. She grinned brilliantly at the person who had come up beside her, usual gruffness dropping away with her pleasure. 

Adoribull - Mr. and Mr. Smith AU

Okay, so I’ve been having a rough patch trying to write some Iron Bull/Dorian stuff lately, but this lovely post:


inspired me about a few ago weeks ago to start a little something that snowballed into this 3K piece of a story.

Fair warning, there’s some fighting and blood and killing mentioned, but nothing too serious. A little angst, but I think after that bad ending, the fandom’s gotten quite used to it.

Also, I apoligize in advance if I didn’t get their personalities or speech right in this and that it’s not so much spies as is spy and ex-assassin marrying and living together. I haven’t been writing them for that long.

Anyway, enjoy.


Heavy breathing was all that could be heard. Dorian ignored the aching pain in his temples and the sting on his arms as he held the gun level to his husband’s head.

A spy. A fucking spy. Five years. Five years he had let this man, this Qunari, into his life. Five years, two of which they had been married. MARRIED. Married and living together in the same house, the same bed. And everything had to go wrong just because he took that one assassination job.

Keep reading

Is alive. Almost back to cabin in Columbia River gorge; unsurprisingly 2 hour drive has taken 5 and a half so far and I’ve got another 20 miles to go. Stopping for dinner.

I doubt any pictures from camera came out but I’m sure there’s better ones online. Here’s my ipad pan of a dusty field in Madras, Oregon a few minutes before sun turned into a black hole in the sky.

thegreatstrongbow  asked:

🌈 from Erestor

Send 🌈 for my muse to come out to yours @chiefcxuncillxr

Glorfindel walked into Erestor’s office, dusty from the fields, knuckles bruised and torn, with a haunted look in his eyes. He looked at the piles of paper on his friend’s desk and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but I…Erestor, I need someone to speak with that I know will listen and will tell me plainly if I am being an idiot or…well I know that what you say will be the truth.”

The words tumbled from Glorfindel’s lips without any pauses as he started to pace the room. “I am…Erestor…Orome’s sweet ass this is hard…I haven’t spoken to anyone about this since…Well since I told my father. I…Erestor, I am attracted to both males and females. Is that so wrong?”

evanescent-red-light  asked:

4, 10, and 16

Sinday Asks (accepting

  •  4. What was the most dirtiest place they had sex in? (Example: the public bathroom, the park, movie theater, etc.)

Take your pick. He’s done it in the mud. He’s done it on corpses. Amongst rotted fields and dusty abandoned homes, or those not so abandoned. He doesn’t really care. 

  • 10. Describe their expression when having an orgasm.

It’s usually done through gritted teeth; mouth open and jaw clenched.  There is a subtle relaxation that most will never know him well enough to notice. 

  • 16. Describe the way your muse’s moan during sex. (Example: are they loud, are they quiet, etc.)

Mishka is noisy. He enjoys copious amounts of dirty talk, but he’s equally likely to  go without any words at all. Always he makes all sorts of sounds. Animalistic grunts, little purrs and growls are the most frequent.


Circo Kin, a small family circus living a nomadic life throughout Mexico, pitching their tent in dusty fields in small towns of rural areas. Small family circuses have been part of a long tradition in Mexico, but recently, with the ban of animals in circuses, their precarious existence has been jeopardized, animals being the main attraction for the public.

© Florence Leyret Jeune