Would gunpowder green teadragons combine the intelligence of greens with the energy of the highly-caffinated? I'd suspect that they'd be a handful, needing lots of exercise and stimulation.
Gunpowder Greens are great companions for the few people with the experience to handle their intelligence, and the free time or occupation to exhaust them. They’re bigger than average–comparable to a husky or similarly sized dog–and strongly muscled. At least four hours of exercise a day is recommended, and it should thoroughly engage the teadragon’s mind, as well as body.
For endurance riders, round-the-world sailors, marathoners, rock and mountain climbers, and deep-forest explorers, there is no better dragon companion. Gunpowder Greens are highly curious, love to learn, and are strong and smart enough to help rescue an owner in trouble. This curiousity can get them into trouble, as Gunpowder Greens have been known to wander off to find things to entertain themselves. There’s more than one account of these teadragons accidentally getting into tussles with grizzly bears, for example.
If insufficiently stimulated, Gunpowder Greens can become finicky, prissy and vain, but they quickly lose all of their pickiness as soon as there’s places to go and new things to explore.
Still figures out the days of the month with “30 days hath September, April, June, and November…”
Counts on his fingers, mutters the alphabet under his breath
Sometimes he wears ballerina buns and it makes his facial structure even sharper
Wears lipstick on Special Occasions
c r o p t o p s
Mumbles while talking normally and doesn’t realize it, it drives everyone crazy
“Enjolras, articulate” “wha”
An actual child
Gets a million freckles after about 0.3 seconds in the sun
Every one of his Halloween costumes involves a cape and usually heels
He paints his toenails while watching the news and yelling at the TV
Actually survives on coffee and sweets he has the diet of a caffinated five year old
Tall, stands on chairs to be taller
Bonus: Grantaire’s t i n y he reaches Enjolras’s collarbones on a good day
Bonus bonus: Sometimes when they argue and they’re both standing up Grantaire’s just balancing en point because he does ballet. he’s just balancing there and yelling and gesturing the Amis are like “dude what”
I saw this really cute and funny prompt that had something to do with your significant other’s bracelet getting caught in your hair. By the way, pleaaaase forgive my lack of uploading. My series is still going on and yes, I’m still getting around the sequel. :)
Ah, the college life. Papers upon papers due day after day and countless nights spent crying and stressing over the little things. Not to mention always being on a caffine rush. Today was one of those days where you had waited until the last minute to do a paper and now you were rushing to get it done in time. If there was one thing you had learned from being in college; it was to never procrastinate unless you wanted to create a living hell for yourself.
You had come over to J’s penthouse in the hopes of getting the paper done faster since your roomate just wouldn’t turn her music down. Your earbuds rested in your ears and blasted music into your head to somewhat try and motivate you to write this five page paper. Only a few minutes ago you had been sitting on his expensive leather couch alone, staring into space and pondering what to write next. J had come down from his office and came around the couch to sit behind you. Good, another distraction, seeing as he was only wearing his Arkham sweatpants.
J pushed you forward and sat behind you, wrapping his pale arms around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. These kinds of things never made you blush anymore because you were so used to them, but you enjoyed the small acts of affection nonetheless. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV to drown out the silence of your studies. The two of you sat like that for a while, the only sounds in the room were the rythmic tapping of your deft movements on the keyboard of your laptop and the background noise that the TV filled the room with. The news was on, or something like that. You didn’t know.
If J listened hard enough he could hear the sound of the music you played coming through your earbuds. It was a lazy afternoon, the pitter-patter of the rain only added to the sleepiness that your writing process had already created. A sudden tug on your sloppy ponytail brought you out of your dazed and tired state. “J, whatcha’ doin’? I gotta get this paper done.” There was no response from the odd man you called your boyfriend. Only another tug at the base of your ponytail.
Soon enough your (h/c) hair pooled around your face and tickled the tops of your tank-top clad shoulders. You sighed. “Really?” J’s pale hand knotted itself into your silky hair and massaged your scalp. “J!” You whined, “I’m not kidding. I need to get this done to pass this class.” Of course, he didn’t stop. He kept doing this for several minutes until you shut your laptop and moved it onto the table.
“Lucky for you I finished up. Or else you wouldn’t be getting attention right now.” J purred into your hair and combed out the tangles with his pale fingers. You were sure you had fallen asleep because a few hours later when you cracked open your (e/c) eyes the sky was streaked with dark orange and pink hues that brought color to the gray clouds. You could still feel J behind you, which was odd, because he was not one for sleeping or staying in one place for too long. He often complained that he got “too hot” or he “needed room to stretch”.
His large hand was also still knotted in your hair– you guessed he had fallen asleep too. Deciding not to move, you stretched out your legs to intertwine with his. J didn’t sleep often so you thought it best to not disturb him while he got very rare and much needed rest. A few, if not two minutes later you felt his fingers twitch in your hair and a deep sigh came from behind you. “Mornin’ sleepy head.” He grumbled into your hair, “Idiot. It’s night.” Huffing, you crossed your (s/c) arms and returned your legs to their original crossed position. “Careful. You’re gonna get lipstick in my hair. And I just washed it last night too, so if you do it’s your job to get it out.”
“I think I’d like that, doll.” J rasped out. You lightly smacked his arm. “Perv!” J went to pull his hand out of your hair only to be met with what felt like a giant knot. “Ow J! Be careful!” You cried when your head was yanked back suddenly. “You’ve got some kind of knot back here..” Was his response as he brought his other arm away from your waist to try and figure out how to get his hand out of your hair without ripping a chunk out.
“Whatever. Just be careful…” You hissed. The two of you probably sat there for a good ten minutes, with you sitting very stiffly while J tried not to rip your hair out. “J, love, what’s taking so long?” He grumbled something you couldn’t quite make out. “Here. Get up and we’ll go to the bathroom to see what’s going on.” You got up slowly and J followed right behind, doing the most to try and not tug at your hair. Of course that couldn’t be avoided as a few hisses of pain fell from your lips while making your journey to the bathroom.
Once in the thankfully, spacious bathroom, you turned on the lights and looked to the mirror. J’s figure loomed over your shorter figure, and he seemed to take pride in this given the unmistakable hint of amusement in his arctic blue eyes. “Yes yes I know I’m short..” You murmured while tilting your head downwards just enough to see what was going on. It took you a good five minutes to see that it wasn’t a knot in your hair. J’s golden watch had snagged a good clump of your hair. The hair was caught inbetween the folding parts of the watch’s wrist band.
In the midst of J’s attempt to free his hand from your hair the watch had gotten even more tangled and knotted up. “J! You idiot! Your watch is stuck in my hair!” His eyebrows, or, where the skin where his eyebrows should have been shot up and an amused grin adorned his pale face. “Oh.” You furrowed your (h/c) eyebrows and sighed, your hands coming up to rub your face as you groaned into them. J took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts before spotting Frost’s number and dialing it. “Frost. Scissors. Now.” You could hear a faint “Yes boss” on the other end before J hung up and stuck his phone back into the pockets of his Arkham sweatpants.
“You can’t be serious. We are absolutely not cutting my hair out!” He didn’t respond to your protests. While the two of you waited for Frost to bring the scissors down from God know’s where J attempted again to free his hand. It was however, a nice time to stop and admire his milky white tattooed chest while your head was being yanked back. The way his deep red lips curled upwards ever so slightly to reveal his silver-capped teeth when he was focused on something. “It’s rude to stare, doll.” You caught his icey blue eyes with your (e/c) ones for the slightest second before he returned them to the problem at hand. You chuckled. “Since when do you not love to be the center of my attention?”
After what seemed like years in the sticky silence, Frost brought the scissors to J and placed them on the counter. J had ordered frost to be on stand-by incase something went horribly wrong. For example, if J ripped a chunk of your scalp off. “For Christ’s sake J, just cut it out.” Your sensitive scalp was red and throbbing by the time he was done tugging on that one area. A few snips later and J now held a clump of your (h/c) hair in his hand. “Do you wanna keep it, doll?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? No. Just throw it away.”
You tilted your head downwards again to check and see if anything major had been snipped away. Luckily nothing had, but it would take some time for that one area to grow out to your hair’s correct length. You rubbed the sore and throbbing area of your scalp. “See! I told you. You did get lipstick in my hair.” J’s eyes snapped to the crown of your head and he grinned.
“Well, you did say I was the one who was going to be washing it out.” J grinned and threw you over his shoulder, heading to your shared bedroom.
Honestly I hate coffee. Even the smell of it makes me gag. But if you’re having breakfast right now, then you’re probably far enough away from me that I won’t be able to smell it, so go with whatever you’re in the mood for.
Coffee lovers may have noticed a new offering in their local cafés. Cascara is a tea-like drink with a fine, fruity flavor and plenty of caffeine, and it’s popping up everywhere. For this new addition to chalkboards nationwide, credit Aida Batlle.
Batlle is a fifth-generation coffee grower in El Salvador, whose coffees have won international awards. One day a decade ago, she arrived at a coffee cupping —where coffees are sampled for flavor — and detected a pleasant, hibiscus-like scent in the room. When she asked the other coffee tasters about it, they pointed to the husks from recently milled coffee.
“So immediately I got curious with it,” says Batlle. “And I just picked through it, cleaned it, and then put it in hot water, to see what it was like. Then I called my customers at the time, and I was like, ‘Oh, my God, you have to try this. I’m going to send you a sample.’”
Imagine that Junkrat is an insomniac, he doesn’t sleep, he cannot sleep. A habit picked up living alone in the outback, sleep was dangerous, left you vulnerable. Now that he has a body guard there is no need to avoid sleep, but bad habits die hard.
I imagine he loves his coffee and tea so much because the caffeine helps keep him feeling alert and awake. Why will he flatten a building just cause they can’t give him that specific brew? Because he’s feeling his energy drain, hes getting tired and feeling like shit. He doesn’t want to feel tired, He needs a pick me up.
He’s a caffine addict, he loves the buzz he feels while he’s on it and will get violent without it. His body feels numb from the lack of rest which helps with his pain tolerance. It also makes it harder for him to focus. He’s so obsessed with staying awake that he will even result to self harm if he feels himself dowsing off and need a kick of pain to bring him back (electrocution and burning himself are his favorite methods)
When Junkrat does sleep it will be out of the blue, passing out from exhaustion after even all the cups of coffee in the world couldn’t fight it. He will only sleep for a few hours before his reoccurring night terrors will wake him up. He wakes up in a cold sweat, feeling sick and exhausted, his body is no longer numb, he can feel his aching back muscles, all the wounds hes received and failed to notice sooner due to the numbness.
After joining Hog hes no longer allowed to live life on his own schedule. He can’t just stay up all night, chasing an adrenaline high to keep himself awake. They spend days, even weeks in hidding, no fun to be had and the last cup of coffee was chugged hours ago. These times are the worst. He fights the exhaustion the best he can with pacing and chatter. Eventually hes exhausted himself, he lays beside Hog, cozied up to him but.. he cannot sleep, not when he wants to, not when hes bored and desperately needs to rest.
He stays awake for hours tossing and turning. His eyes get sore, their so dry they begin to sting, he gets a massive migraine thumping in his head, his phantom pains begin acting up, even the natural act of breathing is distracting him from sleep. In his frustration he starts to rage. He throws things around the room, probably accidentally hitting Roadhog who wakes up to the chaos. Junkrats swearing, verbally abusing himself, breaking things, punching himself, trying to knock himself out.
Roadhog of course doesn’t allow it to continue. He wraps Junkrat in a big hug (pinning his arms down so he cannot hurt himself) Junkrat will struggle, but eventually he will be still, breathing heavily, he will begin to sob. “I just wanted to sleep..why cant I sleep.. what’s wrong with me”
Roadhog will sit with him, he tries different methods to help Junkrat sleep whenever this happens, sometimes he will put on a movie, read him a story, rub his back, massage his stumps, get him to eat somthing. Nothing works exceedingly well but it’s good enough that after enough time he will fall asleep for a few shirt hours only for the cycle to continue again.
Thanks for the request! And sorry for the delay; last night was the final show for my school’s musical, and I barely had time to shower in the past two weeks because of late rehearsals. :/
1. He can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. It’s actually pretty impressive. And slightly terrifying. You could bump into him in the middle of the street for the first time since preschool and he will still hate your guts for something you did in preschool–whatever it was; you can’t even remember–and won’t let up on it until you apologize. And sometimes even not then.
2. Major caffiene addict. Sarah once bought him a bag of those chocolate covered expresso beans as a joke, and big shock, he actually friggin loves the stuff. It actually starts to get pretty serious, because so much caffine makes his anxiety so much worse, and it starts to seriously screw up his sleeping and then the rest of his health in general, and his friends and family have to pull him back. He eventually cuts down, but self-care really isn’t the most prominent when it comes to David’s strong points.
3. He has this scarf that either Esther or Sarah knitted for him that he actually wears. Every day in the winter.
4. Bites down on his lower lip when he’s nervous or thinking really hard about something. I’m pretty sure I’ve used this in every David fanfic I’ve ever written.
5. The type of gay kid who gets super invested in LGBT+ rights from a pretty early age and yet still manages to convince himself that he’s straight. Young David probably gets pretty defensive whenever someone asks if/assumes he’s gay (granted, a lot of this would probably be bullying). He thinks it’s homophobic for people to assume that only gay people can and do support gay rights–which isn’t necesarily wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is hella. Gay.
His coming out process would be about a solid four years of denial and one year or more of questioning. He thinks about it and worries about it way too much instead of just letting himself feel. He looks back on his childhood memories to try to find “signs” of him being like that. He types “Am I gay? quiz” into the Google search bar more times than he will ever admit. It takes him a very long time to finally fully come to terms with himself, and when he does, the realization hits him like a sudden, startling freight train.