glide-or

Come Fly With Me
Inspired by this beautiful piece (x)


Fucking Cas, Dean thinks as he hurtles towards the earth below.


He pinwheels helplessly, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Fuck you, Cas!” He yells, but it’s ripped away, lost in the roaring wind.

Then suddenly there’s low laughter in his ear, and his downward plunge is abruptly halted, turning into a smooth glide.

“Gotcha.”


Dean’s heart is pounding, clinging to Cas where his arms are wrapped around his middle.

“You motherfucker,” he mumbles. The wind buffets them slightly and he tightens his grip, shaking his head.

“Second my feet touch ground, I am so kicking your ass,” he mutters.

Castiel just chuckles, prising Dean’s hand from his arm. Dean’s stomach twists as Cas locks their fingers together, slowly stretching his arm out. Below them, the city lights twinkle, mirroring the stars dancing around them.

“You won’t fall,” comes Cas’s soft reassurance.

Dean swallows, trying not to think about the drop below them. Cas is a solid and warm presence at his back, but Dean just wants to get vertical as soon as humanly possible.

He exhales.

Fucking Cas.


They had been on Dean’s bed (no, not cuddling, thank you very much—Cas was just very comfortable and Dean was resting against him, okay) and somehow Dean and his stupid mouth spilled about him being afraid of heights, and then, well. Now apparently they’re doing Flying 101.

Jesus. You say one thing, and then your angel drops you into the stratosphere.

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I made a gryphon dragon design for funsies

I’m not sure which flight they would be from, they are highly adaptable so they roam around a lot, but I suppose they come from either the Glades or the Shifting Expanse

They pounce on prey and fight like lions would, so they are powerful jumpers/climbers. Their wings help them glide towards unsuspecting prey in a swift manner.

They think Harpies are their long lost cousins so they don’t mess with Harpies/ respect Harpies’ territories. And Harpies return the favor .

Gravity Defying Hoverbike

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Awesome Sh*t You Can Buy

i swear it

Ino is not pleased.

“More than a decade, possibly,” she hisses, slamming down her pen at the Interrogation Center. “A decade, Forehead. You can’t possibly—”

“I can,” Sakura interrupts with a finger to her lips, looking down at the tiny bundle in her left arm. Sarada is still fast asleep, small and beautiful and vulnerable. Good; Ino’s racket has not disturbed her. “I have to.”

A beat passes, and Ino scowls.

“I know it’s for the greater good,” Ino says, more quietly this time. She sighs and leans over her desk to coo at her niece, fingers gliding over Sarada’s cheekbones. She is uncommonly lovely, long black lashes and soft porcelain skin. “She’s…she’s still so small, though. And she…”

Sakura nods. “She won’t know a thing.”

“Why?” Out of all the conditions—single mother Sakura, absentee father Sasuke, more than a decade—this makes the least sense.

“You can’t tell a child her father is looking for something that might cure her from death at sixteen. Maybe you can tell a twelve year old, but not a child. Sasuke is convinced the kekkei genkai will activate and worsen it too.”

Ino lets out a breath, and sinks back into her armchair. “Her eyes?”

“Still not functioning properly.” Sakura swallows, and Ino remembers her panic when Sarada was first born, the complications with her daughter’s optic nerve and retina and lens and how Sakura’s mouth wobbled when she delivered the news. “Itachi went blind, Ino. Sasuke nearly went blind too.”

Ino swallows too. “That was from overuse, though?”

Sakura bites the inside of her cheek and hums. “It could have also been genetics. Maybe a combination. We don’t know. But Itachi was very very sick and Sarada’s eyes aren’t functioning properly and…”

“It’s still a decade, Sakura.”

“Possibly. It might take two years; it might take twelve. We don’t know. But cures take time, and Sasuke needs to continue taking missions along the way if he’s going to have a good standing as a Konoha shinobi. The Raikage will not tolerate a wandering Sasuke with no purpose.”

Sakura has always fought like this, Ino thinks: with an iron determination, cool logic running in her head even as her heart rages or snaps in two.

“I don’t like it,” Ino says. She watches her niece wake up and begin to fuss, and Sakura hushes her and cradles her closer.

“It’ll be okay.” Ino isn’t sure if Sakura’s talking to her or the baby or herself (maybe all three), but Sakura is strong.

She will endure.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sakura whispers, feeling the warmth of her child—their child—above her fingertips.

This is unconditional love, she reminds herself. Uchihas love with every heartbeat they have. This is the Will of Fire, this is strength. “I swear it.”

Baltimore is my home city and I have family there and in its suburbs. Still when I hear and see footage of the protests and riots, I don’t feel scared for my family, are you kidding me? They’re white and they’ll survive because we always do; white people are kind of like roaches in that way. Baltimore is an American city that is typical for its institutionalized white supremacist capitalist racism. Its shiny baseball and football stadiums are surrounded on all sides by project housing that most suburbanite Baltimoreans wouldn’t go near save for those second row third baseline seats. They glide onto the streets of inner city Baltimore in their huge Lexus SUVs with their windows rolled all the way up as if the air was too dirty for them, or too black. Indeed the words “dirty” and “black” and “thuggish” are used synonymously by these people who drop hundreds of dollars on shitty beer in a stadium bar that will do nothing to help stimulate the stagnant economy of this city. The whites get back into their shiny SUVs after an Oriole’s game and roll over black bodies like pavement. If you know Baltimore intimately– and no, I don’t mean if you’ve seen the fucking Wire– then you know that it was only a matter of time before the city exploded with rage not just over Freddie Gray, but the systematic killing of black lives via poverty, the incarceration system, the so-called drug wars and the gutting of the education system. and such a rage has lead to a trial by fire.

waiting for my hawk

leaving wood’s edge
to walk into a field
hoping to see him glide
under a canopy of clouds

it’s quiet and still
with just my breath and whispering grasses

fingers trailing
to touch flowering stems
a river of movement
between earth and sky

I don’t often dream of flying
but I do see through his eyes when I sleep

Caption: “The Amtrak Shawnee is out of Union Station and is gliding down the St Charles Air Line where it is about to cross the south branch of the Chicago River at 16th St.  It’ll continue east to the lakefront where it will make a hard right turn onto the Illinois Central and head south for Champaign.”

Chicago

May 6, 1980

Photo by Bill Johnson

Let me tell you guys a story.

Once upon a time there was a really tired Poni. Some barnswallows decided to sit upon the roof right outside of her window and called to her gently. “Wake the fuck up, you worthless piece of garbage.” One bird cooed. “Wake up! We’re not letting you sleep any long.er”

“Wake the fuck up!” The 2nd bird cried out, “Birds are just absolute massive fucking dicks and we don’t contribute to this world at all!” The small girl slunk out of bed and went to her window. Quietly she placed a hand against the cold glass. “Fuck off you fucking scrubs.” She whisper and then slammed her hand against the window.

“You fucking cunt!” The birds replied and flew away, gliding upon their blue wings. Satisfied with herself the girl crawled back into bed. She yawned widely and snuggled back into her pillows. On silent wings these monsters came back and sat outside of her window once more. “You didn’t think you could make us go away that easily, right?” The second bird’s beak twisted into an ugly grin. “We’re going to make you stay awake.






Forever.”

Not putting up with these little shits cuntsucking attitude she got back up and stared at the birds through the glass barrier. Oh how she hated these birds- and how they hated her back. Once more she slammed her hand against the window in frustration, scaring the birds off. “That’s right you fucking scrubs-” She whispered against the glass, watching them speed off back to hell. “Get shrekt.”

The morning began to doze off with the girl. The clouds swept in and the temperature dropped to a wonderful cold. “Finally.” She whispered and nuzzled further into her pillow.

One. Last. Time. These birds came back. Their screams mimicked those of a child’s lungs being punctured by an assaulter’s blade. The screams soon turned to horrendous cackles and they stared at her from the outside. “You’re never going to sleep again!” The first bird screeched. “God sends his regards!” The second bird piped up. The two continued their conversation while the poor girl began to cry out of frustration. “Why are you doing this to me?!”

The birds stared at her once more from the outside.
“Because,” One of them began, turning to it’s lover.
“Birds are fucking assholes,” The other one replied.

Chasing Cars: Ch. 15

Summary: “Fleeing from both walkers and a storm, Daryl and Beth find a place to hide that turns out to be very tight quarters.”


Almost nonchalantly, Beth explained, “Found it in the glove compartment of that car, back in the garage by the train tracks, and I thought it might come in…”

Before Beth could even finish Daryl was lifting his hand to briefly cup her face, his thumb gliding over her cheek as he looked into her eyes and breathed out in a rough whisper, “You’re fucking amazing, Greene, you know that?”

Whatever she might have said in the seconds that followed, in that moment full of her big eyes holding his and her breath hitching in her chest, it was lost in a crash of thunder overhead that made both of them jump and quickly look back at the slowly approaching herd of walkers.

If they were gonna act, they needed to act now.

Continue Reading at: Archive of Our Own | FanFiction.net

stabbystabdeadpool asked:

Secret Audience

Send me a “Secret Audience” to have my muse sing a song without noticing your muse is listening.

Sora gave little wiggle of her hips as she began to glide the knife back and fourth, cutting the cellery,

“I can’t wait ‘til I get you on the floor, good-looking
Going hot, so hot, just like an oven
And owww burned myself, I just had to touch it
But it’s so fire and it’s all mine
Hey baby, and we don’t mind all the watchin”

Her voice rang freely, believing she was alone. 

“ha
Cause if they study close, real close
They might learn something
She ain’t nothing but a little doozie when she does it
She’s so fire tonight”

It’s been a long moment since we’ve heard a new original from Avec Sans, but get ready to treat your ears to new single Resonate, an aptly named exhibition of synthpop grandeur. Resonate’s darkly pulsing synths reverberate with endless power, as Alice Fox’s heavenly vocals glide luxuriantly across the glorious and full bodied soundscape. The British duo easily leave a resonating mark with the lustrous, awe inspiring return. Resonate is currently available as a free download on their Facebook and their website.

r4gn0r0k-cyb3r-g0d:

“ Good I trust you have made ample progress. Is it on miss Kensington’s whereabouts? “

Matt retorted, hands gliding across her arms and back. This was certainly going to be fun. He had this sneaking suspicion for a while out of one of his girls, yet certainly not his surveillance specialist Kirsten. Digits slender as they traced her neck.

“Y-yes. Sort of.” Though she cleared her throat a little to try to make up for the crack in her voice, she couldn’t help the small, obvious shiver that had run down her back. His hands were cold, and she certainly wasn’t used to such an intimate touch. Not from him. Don’t think of it like that.

Trying to clear her thoughts, she leaned forward to busy herself with her computer. 

“I can’t pinpoint her exact location, she’s taken herself off the map - but I can when she moves.“

The @lorealparisusa Women of worth lipsticks are fantastic! The finish of the lipstick is semi matte but they are so soft and glide on to your lips with opaque color. 😍😘 (#drugstoremakeup #Win )

From left to right

-Jennifer’s Red (Yes JLo Yass)💋
-Julianne’s Red 💋
-Zoe’s Red💕
-Freida’s Red💓

This is kind of strange but I actually kind of hate my birthday. Not because I’m getting older, but because of the attention. I’m the type of person who likes to fly under the radar, and birthdays are hard because everything has to be all about you and I kind of hate that. I just wish no one would have to know and I could let it glide by without being acknowledged. I hate being the city of attention and that’s what birthdays are all about. Boo.