Could you do one where the farmer is sort of alternative (IE piercings, tattoos), and smokes with Sebastian? Thanks!! Xx

On this unusually hot, balmy day the farmer had decided to wear something a bit lighter, a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt. In this, almost all their tattoos were visible for anyone to see as they passed by. Their alternative style had started with just a few extra ear piercings and had led them to where they were today.

Heading home from the mines, they spotted Sebastian across the way as he smoked, looking out onto the lake near his house. He turned and waved as they approached.

“Hey, farmer,” he greeted once they were in earshot, removing the cigarette from his mouth.

“Hey,” they nodded to the cigarette in his hand, “Mind sharing? I ran out in there,” they pointed their thumb in the direction of the mine entrance.

“Sure,” Sebastian replied as he fished the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. It was still at least half full, thankfully.

The farmer graciously accepted one and pressed it to their lips, clicking a lighter at the end of it till it caught.

“Nice tattoos.” Sebastian observed. “I didn’t know you had them.”

The farmer took a long drag from the cigarette and steadily released it back into the air. “Thanks,” they finally replied, having been calmed by the smoke acridly filling their lungs. “Some of them hurt a lot more than I was expecting.”

Sebastian chuckled and nodded. “I know how that is,” he said then took another inhale off his cigarette, the embers at the end illuminating his face.”

The farmer’s jaw practically dropped to the ground. “You have a tattoo?” They asked incredulously.

Sebastian’s face began changing to a more pink hue, and it wasn’t just from the cigarette. “Don’t tell my parents, but I got it in highschool and it’s really dumb.” He hiked up the sleeve of the jacket he was wearing to reveal a tattoo of a mechanized frog sitting on a lilypad over clear blue water.

The farmer laughed aloud, spewing smoke out of their mouth and nose. “Oh my god,” they squealed between laughs, “I can see why you would wanna hide it! How much did you pay for that, three gold?” They were practically in stitches by now.

Sebastian grinned and chuckled, lowering his sleeve again. “I was in highschool, what can I say? Seriously, though, don’t tell anyone.”

The farmer took several more moments to compose themselves and let the bursts of laughs stop before they could muster a reply. “I’ll do my best, but it’s going to be hard to keep that glory to myself.”

anonymous asked:

Words and phrases that rhyme with rami: (98 results) 2 syllables: -gnomy, -nomy, -stomy, -tomy, ah me, ah mee, ah mi, almy, ami, awe me, balmy, bombie, bomb he, calmy, calm he, calm me, claw me, commie, com e, com me, cromie, da me, da mi, dommie, draw me, dromi, fahmy, fromm e, gourami, homie, hom he, ka mea, la me, la mi, ma me, ma mi, mommy, mom he, na me, na mea, na mi, palm he, paw me, pa mi, pomey, pommie, pommy, quam me, qua me, romie, saami, saw me, sa me, shami, som e

somebody resurrect dr suess

“i’m sweating my goddamn balls off, jack. it’s hot as FUCK out here!”

it’s a balmy summer afternoon in bumfuck nowhere (aka indiana) and gabriel reyes can’t take the heat. his drenched shirt clings to his chest uncomfortably, sweat dripping down his brow.

Keep reading

We are the city line,
the offbeat curtains
and the apartments
you cannot help
yourself from looking

We are the balmy air,
the stickiness that clings
to your skin all week and
washes down your drain
late on Friday night.

We are the old house
in the middle of nowhere,
the one you dream about
later that night with a big
chandelier and tacky

We are the lovers you
promised your parents
you wouldn’t fall for,
the ones you wish you
could wash out of your

We are the sloppy writing
in high school bathrooms, 
the old trees you wished 
you could climb, the 
neighborhood you grew
up in.

We are in every wrong
turn that turned into
just the right place,
in all the flowers you 
picked and let die, flying
with all the airplanes that
never wanted to come home.

—  We are the wild flowers growing in all the wrong places.

theherocomplex  asked:

20. Simon/Dorian

“Come on, give me one good reason not to jump in the lake,” Simon Trevelyan said. “Anyone?”

“Because effin’ stinky corpses were crawling out of it just yesterday?” Sera suggested.

“That was yesterday. And that was the big lake, not this little pond.”

Sera sniffed. “Bad water’s bad water.”

“It’s cold and wet, which is bad enough,” Varric put in.

“Cold and wet is the point,” Simon said. “Not one of you has been tromping around in heavy armor all day.”

Dorian had to admit Simon had a point about that. Once the sun had come out, the weather in Crestwood had grown quite warm. Delightfully balmy, in Dorian’s opinion, not nearly as hot as Qarinus would be in this season, but the sun was blazing quite splendidly all the same. They’d been searching the hills all day and still not caught even a glimpse of a single Grey Warden. When they’d paused for a breather, Simon had yanked his helmet off to reveal sweat-matted hair, and was now staring at the pond longingly.

“You’ve no idea how deep it is,” Rory Trevelyan added.

Simon shrugged. “Doesn’t much matter. I can swim. Come on, is that the best you’ve got?”

Out of some perverse impulse, Dorian said, “There’s also whatever the friendly local rustics and their livestock have been putting into the pond.”

Sera wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”

“I changed my mind,” Varric said. “That’s good reason enough.”

“Well, it looks clean, and it’s beastly hot out here,” Simon said. “The druffalo drink out of it, it can’t be that bad.” And with that, he dropped his helmet.

“I don’t know if I’d take the authority of a druffalo,” Varric said, and Sera put in, “There’s wyverns or something around, yeah?” but Simon was clearly past paying attention to any of them.

He managed, in fact, to shed his armor and its padding remarkably quickly, over the protests of the rest of the company. Dorian, however, found that all his impetus to provide objections dried up completely as Simon stripped himself down to shirt and breeches and started running.

“Simon!” Rory called out one last time, exasperated.

There was no help for it, though; Simon plunged in without heeding, and within a few steps, ducked under the surface of the water entirely. He was invisible for a long, stretched-out moment, during which Dorian caught himself holding his breath.

“And thus ended the Inquisition,” Varric said philosophically. “Not much of a story, really, but—”

Before he could finish, Simon broke the surface with a great gasp of air and a sigh. “This is perfect,” he called out, and Dorian froze, his attention completely caught as Simon shook the water out of his hair, his linen shirt soaking wet and outlining every muscle.

“Close your mouth, Sparkler,” Varric murmured, as Sera shouted out, “You’re daft! Things live in that!”

“Yes, but consider this,” Simon called back. “I don’t c- whoops!” He ducked under again, abruptly. Sera let out a little shriek, which turned into a growl when Simon came back up laughing. “No sea monsters!” he called. “Or pond monsters!”

“Shut it, that wasn’t funny!” Sera shouted back. Varric was chuckling, though, and Rory was shaking their head with a tolerant smile.

And Dorian might as well enjoy the show, surely.

anonymous asked:

Do you have a little story for me tonight? ☺️☺️ Something sweet...or spicy...or just magical??

This ask is from November, judging by the other things in my inbox surrounding it. Lordt. I just rewatched “Humbug” so enjoy. 


Mulder knocks on her door but it takes her a minute for her to unlatch the crooked lock. He traipses in, his pajamas on under his overcoat. She laments, not for the first time since they arrived, that they’ve schlepped all the way down to Florida and it’s barely broken fifty degrees all day. The cold air Mulder let in when he entered lingers by the trailer door and she shivers, pulling her own coat tighter around her. She hasn’t taken it off yet, despite having been shown to her room almost an hour ago. 

“Some Floridian vacation, huh?” Mulder jokes lamely. 

She chuffs. “Positively balmy.”

He shuffles around for a moment, seemingly unsure why he came in in the first place. He’s done it ever since she returned from her abduction; every night before they go to bed, he comes to check on her. It would be sweet if he didn’t pick the most inopportune times. She’d just been about to jump in the shower, hoping to rid her bones of the February chill that followed them down the coast.

Keep reading

and then there were 2 ☀ izzy/ángel

Timeline: 31st May, 2006, 2:10am. The Brothel in Ibiza

Isabel was exhausted, it had taken hours to get to … where was it? Ibiza. Delays at the airport, traffic driving to the new place where she’d be working for the indefinite future. The new brothel. How different could it be she thought, these kind of places must all be the same, no matter how run down or how high class they were. They all had the same foul stench of slowly rotting hearts and stale, forgotten emotion whether it was dressed up in French Chantilly lace and designer perfume or 5 dollar stick on nails and scratchy polyester satin. She rubbed her eyes and pulled her hair up off her face as she got out of the car and putting her hands on her hips she looked up at the building, it was just a bricks and mortar like any other building. No-one walking by would know the kind of things that went on inside. It was already balmy and warm but a slight breeze made her zip up her hoodie and pull the hood right over her head so it reached past her eyebrows.

The driver carried her bag in. It was small, she owned very little. That was the way it was now, how things had changed in just one year. To go from a life of total luxury where it would be easy to spend enough money to feed a family for a month in one restaurant in one night…not that Isabel was particularly materialistic, but it was there if she needed. Now she had to beg for the basics. All she had in her bag were things rich clients had bought her out of pity or as a way to buy her affections. Like they needed to do that…Following the driver inside she muttered a quiet prayer, lips barely moving, it was something she had done ever since she was a little girl, her mother being superstitious had always said a few words in prayer upon entering a new house for the first time. Apparently it warded off evil and this silly superstition had rubbed off on Isabel. She stood around, her loose clothes hiding her petite frame, hands dug deep into jeans pockets as the driver exchanged a few words with the voluptuous redhead, She handed him a key, nodding her head towards the stairs.

Traipsing behind the driver, she walked up the stairs, silent and avoiding all eye contact with the few people they passed on the stairs. The driver came to a halt outside a door and knocked, no answer. Without waiting he turned the key and opened the door. There was a dim light in the far end of the room and she couldn’t make out much else. She wondered why he had knocked, did this mean the room was being used for work right now? Or was this going to be her own personal room? She had her own room before where she ‘entertained’ clients but the catch was she had to sleep in there herself too, she hated that. She hoped it wouldn’t be like that here. Squinting she thought she saw a figure in the dark, and cleared her throat, unsure what to say. “Hola…” she spoke softly just in case the figure was asleep, or hostile, or god knows what else. “Hola…duermes?”


For @ziamremedies :) Thanks for the request, lovely! I had to change it a little bit to fit the backstory I had in my head. Hope it is everything you wanted.

The office was cold. You had only been working here for about a few weeks, but those weeks had been plenty long enough to figure out that you had to bring a sweater to work with you every day despite the balmy summer temperatures outside. Goosebumps littered your arms every time you sat at your desk and you convinced yourself that it was because of the air conditioning vent right above your head. Yes, that was surely the cause. It had nothing to do with the fact that Mr. Styles, the CEO of the cutting edge tech development firm you interned at, was bloody gorgeous. No. His shockingly beautiful green eyes, the way his fit and toned body looked in his tailored suits, the hint of ink that peeked out from the cuff of his shirtsleeves, the accent that caused a undeniable twinge between your legs… Those were not the cause for the shiver that ran down your spine when you stepped foot in the building. It was definitely the cold. Or so you told yourself.

The other office aides had been friendly enough, giving you helpful tips on how to work the stubborn copy machine and which floor had the better coffee. They shared snacks and traded workplace gossip so you felt like you really belonged. You had even started to think of them as friends after the lot of you had taken to grabbing a few post-work drinks every Friday.

 “Are you coming out with us tonight?” you heard as you filed the week’s paperwork into labeled manila folders. You spun in your chair to face Alexis, your desk mate, nodding and smiling at her.

“Of course,” you responded cheerfully. “Wouldn’t miss it. Thanks for inviting me again.”

 “S’no problem,” she laughed. “We love having another girl to chat with. Just do me a favor and run upstairs. Ask Gina if she’s coming too.”

 “Oh, o-okay,” you stuttered. Gina was Mr. Styles’ secretary and it always intimidated you to go near his office. For the sake of the newly formed friendships with your coworkers you swallowed your nerves and headed towards the elevator.

 As the elevator climbed your heart rate increased. You smoothed a hand over your green pencil skirt, adjusted your cream colored blouse, and fussed with your hair. If you bumped into the CEO you at least wanted to make sure you looked presentable. Mr. Styles had a habit of wandering the building to check up on his workers when he wasn’t busy so you knew he was nice enough, but you wanted to always leave a good impression.

 The doors swung open when you reached the top floor and you let out a huff of breath as you made your way towards Gina’s desk. She grinned at you and you felt the nervous butterflies in your stomach calm just a bit.

 “Hey! What’s up?” she asked cheerfully.

 “Not much. Alexis was wondering if you were coming to get drinks with everyone again tonight?”

 “Oh, definitely,” she replied. “Don’t think I can have as many mojitos as I did last week though. Overdid it a bit. The hangover I had all weekend really kicked my a-“

 “Gina,” a stern voice sounded from within the depths of the open door behind her desk. With a shocked expression she quickly rose and hustled to the doorway. You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you realized that the voice belonged to Mr. Styles.

 “Yes, Mr. Styles?” she asked breathlessly as he sauntered up to the door, a disapproving look masking his handsome features. His new haircut made the sharp edges of his jawbone even more pronounced and you found yourself wondering how anyone could look so hot while being so obviously irritated. You shook the thought from your head as he began to speak again.

 “As much as I encourage all of you to bond and spend time outside of work together, there is a time and a place for discussions like these. Must maintain professionalism in the office. Best to leave discussions of drinking and hangovers to non-working hours,” he paused, glancing over to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

 You nodded your head rapidly, blurting an apology. Gina followed suit and Mr. Styles turned on his heel and returned into his office. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “How humiliating.”

 Gina shot you a grimace. “I’m sorry. I thought he had stepped out. That was my fault,” she whispered back. “I’ll meet you guys at the pub down the road around 6, okay?”

 You nodded your head and practically sprinted back to the elevator. You spent the next few hours diligently focused on your work. You became so engrossed in responding to your emails that you didn’t notice anyone approach your desk until you heard the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat. When your head shot up you gasped.

 “Mr. Styles!” you exclaimed. “Hi, erm, hello. What can I do for you, sir?”

 He smirked at you, a playful look in his eyes. “So you’re getting drinks with your coworkers tonight?” he asked.

 “Yes,” you nodded. “And I am terribly sorry for how unprofessionally I acted earlier.”

 He held up a hand to stop your apology. “Don’t worry about it, love. S’not a big deal. Just have to be strict with you sometimes.” He ran a finger slowly along his bottom lip as he stared at you. “What bar are you going to?”

 “Uhh.. I think it’s called Metro.”

 “Hmm. Be safe,” he replied. “Never know what kind of trouble a girl as pretty as you could get up to.”

 Your jaw dropped as he winked before walking away. What the hell was that? Mr. Styles went from scolding you about professionalism one minute to being cheeky and complimentary the next. You didn’t know what to make of it.

You decided not to dwell on it and instead headed out to the bar to meet your friends. It was loud and crowded, the masses of people finishing up for the day seemed to all have the same idea as you and your coworkers. You sipped your martini (your third, actually. They were going down like water despite how strong they were) halfheartedly, your mind flashing repeatedly to Mr. Styles. The more you drank, the more your mind wandered. When your phone chimed you glanced down, seeing a text from an unfamiliar number. You frowned as you read it.

 You look lovely. Is that a pomegranate martini? I bet it tastes better on your lips than it does in that glass.

 What the fuck? You rapidly typed your response:

 Who is this? This is borderline stalker behavior.

 Don’t fret, love. Just making sure you’re safe. Never know what kind of trouble a girl as pretty as you could get up to.

 You dropped your phone with a gasp, glancing quickly around the crowded room. You spotted him by the bar, motioning to you to meet him outside before standing and exiting the bar. You made up an excuse about being tired, slapped a few bills on the table, and said goodbye to your friends before following him.

 When you reached the sidewalk he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the darkly tinted window of a black Range Rover on the curb rolled down and his face appeared.

 “Get in,” he demanded.

 You followed his command, unsure of what was happening or where he was taking you. He remained silent throughout the ride, glancing over at you occaisionally and smiling. You confusion grew as you pulled up to a high rise and watched him exit the car. He tossed his keys to the valet and opened your door, grasping your hand to help you hop out of the large SUV.

 “Where are we, Mr. Styles?” you asked.

 “My condo,” he said smugly. “Have something I wanna discuss with you. Wasn’t appropriate for the office. Didn’t want to involve your coworkers. Bringing you here seemed like the logical thing to do. And please, call me Harry. We aren’t on the clock now.”

 You felt floored. What could he want to discuss? Not that you were complaining. A large part of you was thrilled with the prospect of spending time with him outside of work. You flashed him a grin as he grabbed your hand and led you into the building and up to his penthouse.

 “Home sweet home,” he said with a grin as he unlocked and opened the door. Your eyes scanned the place, perfectly decorated and neat as a pin. “Let’s cut to the chase. I want you.” he dropped down on the couch dramatically, pulling your arm to lower you with him. You sat beside him with a stunned look on your face.

 “Wha- What?” you stuttered.

 “I want you,” he said simply. “Not tonight. You’ve been drinking. But I want you. I want to fuck you. Want to taste you. Want to make you cum so hard you see stars. I tried fighting it. I don’t like to mix business and pleasure, but seeing you in the office these last few weeks has been torture.  I have to have you. Would you like that, pet?”

 You found yourself grasping for words as his long fingers stroked your arm.

 “Yes,” you whispered. “I would like that very much.”

 “Good,” he purred. “Unfortunately I have to leave tonight on business. I’ll be back during the workday on Monday, but I will be in contact with you while I am gone. I will drop you off at home on my way to the airport. Is that okay, love?” he asked. You nodded, smiling shyly at him.

 “I would very much like to kiss you,” you whispered, staring at his perfectly pink lips.

 The alcohol in your system was making you braver than your normally would be, but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned in slowly, licking his lips and pressing them against yours. His tongue swept your bottom lip and you groaned, opening your mouth to grant him access. The kiss deepened, tongues stroking and teeth nibbling, driving you mad with desire. You ran your hands over his freshly cropped hair, pulling yourself onto his lap and hitching up your skirt to grind into the hardness you felt in his pants. His lips moved to the side, ghosting across your neck. You gasped as his tongue licked the soft spot below your ear, causing you to push yourself down even harder upon him.

 He pulled back with a sigh, pushing your hair out of your eyes and smiling at you. “Trust me, pet,” he said softly. “I want to take this further. But you’ve been drinking and I have a plane to catch. Let’s get you home, shall we?”

 You pouted a bit and nodded. “Best not to argue with the boss, I suppose,” you said jokingly.

 He stood and placed you gently on your feet with a laugh. “S’pose you’re right,” he agreed.


The rest of the weekend dragged on. You and Harry texted incessantly, every flirty and vaguely dirty message building the anticipation for your reunion on Monday. He stressed the importance of maintaining a professional relationship and keeping your little tryst under wraps and you assured him that you would keep this between the two of you. You didn’t know what sparked this change in him, or what it was about you that intrigued him so, but you loved it. Your fantasy was coming true and you couldn’t wait until he was back so you could have him.

 When Monday finally arrived you took extra care with your appearance. You curled your hair to perfection, wore a tighter dress than you usually would for work, and applied your makeup flawlessly. When you arrived to work you grabbed your phone and fired off a message to Harry.

 Don’t tell my boss, but I seem to have forgotten my panties today.

 Moments later your phone buzzed. You opened the thread and smiled at his response.

 Mmm… I’m in a very boring meeting with some very boring men right now and I would have a hard time explaining why my cock is suddenly hard if you keep this up. Don’t tease me pet. x –H

 You teased me by giving me that taste Friday night and then jetting away on business. I’ve been wet ever since. It’s only fair, Mr. Styles.

 Seems like my disobedient employee needs a lesson in following instructions. I’ll be back at the end of the day. I’m picking you up from work.

 That’s so far away and I am so ready for you now. I might have to sneak away and handle this little problem myself.

 You bit your lip and giggled. Part of you felt bad for egging him on during his meeting but he had gotten you so riled before he left that you could barely contain yourself.

 You’re in trouble, petal. Touch yourself and I won’t make you cum tonight. Don’t test me.


You spent the rest of the day attempting to focus on your work, but thoughts of Harry clouded your mind. When 5 o’clock finally rolled around you practically sprinted out of the building. You couldn’t contain your smile when you noticed a familiar Range Rover parked on the curb.

 You winked at him as you entered the vehicle. “We’ve got to stop meeting like thi-…“ He cut you off with his mouth pressed firmly against yours, groaning deeply as your tongues battled for dominance.

 “Gotta get you home now,” he panted. You nodded and fastened your seatbelt. The short drive to his place felt like it took forever and the long elevator ride to the top floor of the high rise felt even longer. You both rushed through the front door and he immediately scooped you up and carried you into his bedroom.

 He laid you on the bed and peeled the dress from your body, leaving you naked before him.

 “Wasn’t joking about the panties,” you smirked up at him.

 “S’pose you weren’t,” he responded darkly. “On your knees. Now.”

 You flipped over and raised up, glancing shyly over your shoulder as he loosened his tie and removed it. His shirt and dress pants followed and you moaned as you saw how hard he was underneath his boxers.

 “Oh, do you see something you like?” he taunted. You nodded quickly and gulped. “Too bad you can’t follow instructions. You’re a bad girl. Told you to be careful with those text messages. Did you listen?” he asked.

 “No,” you responded quietly.

 “No, what?”

 “No, sir.”

 His smile made you giggle. “Thas’ better sweetheart. Were you needing me today?” You nodded again, pressing back against him as he rubbed his fabric-covered member against your ass.

 “Needed you all weekend,” you informed him. “Been thinking about you since you dropped me off at home.”

 “Did you touch yourself and think of me?” he asked as he slipped his boxers down. The sight of his rock hard cock made your mouth water. You watched him expertly roll on a condom and felt yourself get even wetter.

 “Yes,” you told him honestly. “Twice. I was so worked up.”

 “Hmm.. spread your legs a bit, love.” You obeyed immediately, tensing up when you felt him line up with your entrance. “I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself. Did I?”

With one deep thrust he pushed inside of you. You let out a long wail, the feeling of him stretching you was divine. He halted all movement, buried as deep as he could be. The need to move your hips was maddening but he had you in a death grip, not allowing a single bit of friction.

“Answer me, pet.” he said lowly.

 “No, you didn’t,” you whined. “I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry!”

 “Thas’ my good girl.” Satisfied with your apology he began to move in punishing thrusts. His right hand tangled into your hair and tugged while his left snaked around you to find you clit, pinching and rubbing it in time with his pounding. Neither of you was going to last. You could feel your orgasm chasing you and from the shouts and bellows he was releasing you knew he wouldn’t be far behind you.

 “Fuck, Harry.. You’re so big,” you cried out.

 “And you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled, grinding his teeth. “Yeh feel like heaven when yeh squeeze me like that. S’jus fucking right, ugh.”

 You felt your release all at once. You legs quivered and your eyesight went completely white. Your walls clenched around him and you finished with a long, drawn out moan. After a few more thrusts he came hotly into the condom, his head thrown back and a few expletives making their way past his lips. Once you had both come down he wrapped you in his arms and kissed your forehead.

“That was fucking great,” he laughed. “Think you deserve a raise. You’re a hard worker.”

 “Perks of dating the boss, right?” you joked.

 “O’Course. love. Yeh earned it.”

anonymous asked:

Tracer fluff? Please? Pretty please? You do such amazing things and your writing is perfection.

Fluff coming your way!

Tracer felt your eyes on her back as she slumped in front of the fan, wearing only a thin tank top and short shorts; a wet towel was draped around her neck and she clutched a bright blue popsicle in one of her hands. You were sprawled out along the bed, a bag of ice on your forehead as you fanned yourself with a traditional Japanese fan. You kept lifting the bag off and staring at her – and after a while, you crawled over and rested your head on her shoulder.

“It’s so balmy,” Tracer moaned. “Get off, love, you’ll only be warmer.”

“It’s weird seeing you stationary. So I’ve got a better idea and I need your help.” You said, a tad mischievously. You poked her sides, and kissed her neck, standing up and grabbing the ice bag. Tracer forced herself to turn around as you sunk down and grabbed a box from under your bed. Eyes growing wide, you pulled out giant Super Soakers, and Tracer zipped over to your side and wrapped around you, giggling like a fool.

“We will face adversity,” you whispered in her ear. “But we will conquer it! McCree’s with Hanzo in the mess hall, I know Reinhardt has Hana and Lucio in the game room. We’ll find the others later.”


You both bolted out of your room, zipping down the hall and down the stairs. You shot McCree in the back of the head with a cool stream of water, watching him shoot right off the couch and turn. Tracer got him in the face, quickly squirting Hanzo before zipping into the game room. McCree, thoroughly soaked, pulled Hanzo up with him and you took off. You found Genji and Zenyatta mediating and spared them no quarter, Genji hissed and whipped around but Zenyatta pulled him back with a chuckle, pointing to a pair of dangling legs outside. You ran out underneath Pharah, got her once in the face and zipped back inside before she was on you.

“Easy now, Horus, I’m just playing around.”

“Oh?” she drawled, the water dripping off her nose.

“Yep, completely harmless –“

“Cheers, love! Calvary’s here!” Another stream of water splashed the top of Pharah’s head and she pulled back, allowing Tracer to pull you up and drag you out of the room. A group was gathering in the mess hall, water balloons and hoses as you and Tracer picked off the rest of your team members. You got Torbjorn as he finished maintenance outside, more appreciative then anything. Soldier 76 was caught completely unawares as he exited the infirmary, Mercy got hit as well, then Winston in his lab. Zarya and Mei, who were out in the garden, both received cool bursts of water, Symetra was practically seething. Bastion was unfazed…but someone was missing.

“I think we’re in over our head here, babe. Have you noticed that we’re missing someone?”

“No way, we’ve got everyone…”

A stream of water doused you from head to toe, Tracer whipped around just as a secondary stream caught her square in the face. Ana jumped down from the rafters, perfectly dry and walked towards you, tapping your cheeks.

“Mother knows best.”

Spring time inspiration by annamedvedeva featuring a spring outfit

Loft top, 1.585 RUB / WithChic grey denim shorts, 1.330 RUB / Flat soled shoes, 1.855 RUB / Casetify iphone cover case, 2.535 RUB / Green glasses, 950 RUB / Terre Mère hypoallergenic eyeshadow, 1.585 RUB / Thickening mascara, 1.590 RUB / Terre Mère mineral blush, 1.205 RUB / Herbivore exfoliating mask, 1.395 RUB / Face cleanser, 420 RUB / Balmi lip treatment, 415 RUB / Aesop body moisturizer, 2.220 RUB / Bottega veneta cologne, 2.220 RUB / Fresh body cleanser, 1.080 RUB / Nails Inc shiny nail polish, 2.425 RUB / Essie formaldehyde free nail polish, 545 RUB / EvZ Vintage Dark Green PU Leather Cover Loose Leaf Blank Notebook…, 295 RUB / Cactus home decor, 335 RUB
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Making Waves in the Sky off of Africa

On June 26, 2016, the Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer (MODIS) on NASA’s Terra satellite acquired this natural-color image of cloud gravity waves off the coast of Angola and Namibia.

“I [regularly] look at this area on Worldview because you quite often have these gravity waves,” said Bastiaan Van Diedenhoven, a researcher for Columbia University and NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies interested in cloud formations. “On this day, there was so much going on—so many different waves from different directions—that they really started interfering.” A distinctive criss-cross pattern formed in unbroken stretches hundreds of kilometers long.

Similar to a boat’s wake, which forms as the water is pushed upward by the boat and pulled downward again by gravity, these clouds are formed by the rise and fall of colliding air columns.

Off of west Africa, dry air coming off the Namib desert—after being cooled by the night—moves out under the balmy, moist air over the ocean and bumps it upwards. As the humid air rises to a higher altitude, the moisture condenses into droplets, forming clouds. Gravity rolls these newly formed clouds into a wave-like shape. When moist air goes up, it cools, and then gravity pushes it down again. As it plummets toward the earth, the moist air is pushed up again by the dry air. Repeated again and again, this process creates gravity waves. Clouds occur at the upward wave motions, while they evaporate at the downward motions.

Such waves will often propagate in the morning and early afternoon, said Van Diedenhoven. During the course of the day, the clouds move out to sea and stretch out, as the dry air flowing off the land pushes the moist ocean air westward.

In this image, the clouds form several hundred kilometers off the coast, but at times when the air is less dry or westerly winds are less strong, clouds can be seen hugging the coast.

NASA Earth Observatory image by Jesse Allen, using data from the Land Atmosphere Near real-time Capability for EOS (LANCE). Caption by Pola Lem.

Instrument(s): Terra - MODIS

If Gin had one complaint to make about the entire situation, it would be that the thief had chosen to strike in the heart of Winter - rather in the winds of spring or the summer sun. What could have been pacing among the heated cobbles of Rome had turned into sweaters and jeans along the architecture, shivering as the sun sunk under the sky before five each afternoon. Although practically balmy compared to Russia, it was a far cry from the dry heat of Texas - the sort of heat that never faded. Still, as the years passed, those memories began to fade further, she was sure, that soon, they would fade from existence all together. 

Dissatisfied with the rain that pounded outside, Gin sunk into an armchair in the Hotel lobby, foot impatiently tapping the ground as she searched for anything else to do. Opportunity struck as a loud American voice floated over to her, eyes settling upon the gilded watch in question. “Do you think the Lees would care if we stole in their hotel?” She cared little for authority (or the Lees, for that matter) but causing an escalated argument between the groups was far from her intention. “We do have a lot of time to kill.”