high speed turn

Off the back of my first post regarding Space Dad Kolivan have some headcannons/ideas/random stuff!!

Lance narrating: “Funnily enough, the deadliest of us is also the dadliest”

Hunk slips while pulling food out of the oven, Kolivan catches the food in one hand and Hunk in the other.

He likes to throw Pidge. Straight up at dubious heights, across the room, behind the enemy’s lines during a battle as some kind of flanking maneuver. He’ll just pick her up and toss her bc he can

He’ll actively and noticeably censor himself in the paladins’ presence.

Always manages to land a perfectly centered slap on the back of Lance’s head as situationally required

He’s legit the “I’m everywhere” dad

He has a Dad Chair on the castle, even when he’s not there it’s left for him

T H E   T H E R M O S T A T

He’s like a reverse gremlin, little inconsequential fixes that took the back-burner are suddenly being done and no one knows how or who by until Coran catches Kolivan adjusting something and he’s just like “it helps me think”

Kolivan insists on cooking a traditional Galra meal bc Kieth needs to taste his heritage

He’s a fab cook and Galra cooking is bae

Kolivan is very proud of himself and gladly teaches Hunk the recipes

He can drive and park any vehicle perfectly on the first try regardess of whether or not he has prior experience with said vehicle

He even once managed to drift into a flawless parallel park during a high speed escape

Can turn any situation or funny story into a Valuable Life Lesson

“Alright paladins, we’re going to do this clearly dangerous and highly risky thing in a needlessly complex yet still over-simplified way”

Creative in the most unusually creative way.

*explosion* the team comes running in to see Kolivan crouching with his back to the blast, looking badass. Kolivan stands up revealing a previously completely hidden Pidge, not a hair out of place

*is holding a baby, baby screams in delight* A MIGHTY WARRIORS CRY

Highkey protective af

Totally chill with Pidge climbing all over him, he doesn’t even notice the extra weight

One time Hunk found them in the bridge doing some modifications together and took a picture bc it was too cute

Kolivan was standing, leaning on the control panel doing things while Pidge was perched on his shoulders with her laptop on the top of his head, typing

They were both so hyper-focused that neither noticed Hunk quietly squeeing

He can and will fall asleep anywhere

but will wake up and be totally alert in 0.3 sec if he needs to catch someone/something

One time Kieth was standing on the kitchen counter looking for food on the top shelves bc he’s the second shortest person and he stepped back too far but Kolivan just reached out and pushed him back into a standing position without even looking up from his reading

Bitty’s favourite cousins
  • Most people who know Bitty know that he looks alot like his mother
  • But most people who know Bitty do not know that he looks like his father too
  • So some of his cousins from his fraternal side share shockingly similar facial features with him
  • His favourite cousins are the three kids of his dad’s sister, who married a Brit, thus the kids are influenced by both cultures
    • The eldest is a boy two year older than Bits, and he is the Big Brother Who Has To Take Care All of His Ridiculous Siblings (his name is Michael)
    • The other two are actually twins, the elder a girl (Beth) and the younger a boy (Cason)
    • “Listen to me, baby bro” “You are literally only 10 mins older than me” “I’m still your big sister”
    • Anyway, the three kids + Bitty all have the same eyes, while Beth & Bits are especially alike. Like, of course they don’t look the same, (eg  Beth has curly red hair), but they remind other people of each other
    • They grew up with Bitty back in Georgia, but all three opted to go to university in England because 1) half of their family is there, and 2) tuition fee is way cheaper in England
    • from eldest to youngest: Michael - Bits - Beth - Cason
    • Part of why Bitty got his mother hen tendencies is because he got to look after the twins, even though they are only around 1 yr younger than him; but boy they can cause trouble
    • But as you can imagine, Bitty misses them a lot. Beth did figure skating with him when they were younger and the twins were also on his high school’s co-ed hockey team
    • They are some of his only friends back in Georgia, even though none of them is in Georgia now
  • And the SMH met the wonderful cousins of Bitty’s during practice, of all times
  • It was year three, they were not due to be back to England for school yet so they drove up to Samwell to visit Bitty
  • They sneaked into Faber (I have no idea whether watching team practice is allowed or even possible or not, probably should try to fact check this later)
  • Ransom, skating at high speed, turned just enough to see three people, all with the same huge brown Bambi eyes as Bitty’s, standing near the rails and grinning at them
  • And one of them, a boy, is blond
  • He did a double take and promptly crashed into Holster
  • Bitty finally noticed their existence and (very excitedly) skated over to say hi, while the rest of SMH was like “wth is going on”
    • “We brought you peaches!” “Aw thanks sweetheart”
    • The blond kid aka Cason, got introduced by his sister as, “and this elongated version of Bits here is Cason, my little brother”
    • “I’m feeling so much love right now”
    • meanwhile, Michael told Bits, with mock solemnity, “Eric, I am immensely honoured and touched that you are here with me to face this craziness. Time flies by and my dear siblings have not even budged an inch - how unfortunate”
  • Because they had guests, Ransom and Holster decided to host a party (semi-Kegster - Private version?)
  • Obviously they had a good time. The SMH crew had an amazing time chatting with the siblings in order to obtain precious chirp material and even blackmail material
  • Y’know how usually the people grew up with you/ being close with you for many years naturally know a lot about you, including things that you yourself don’t even remember, right?
  • Apparently Bitty once faceplanted into a pie because he was so tired after hockey practice and baking
  • “Does that count as a fine if Bitty is the one who wrecks a pie???”
  • “Y’all are losing your pie privileges”
  • Oh and Bitty has already come out to them. Due to their cultural background and senses, Bitty knew that they were very likely to accept him but he was still so scared as they were very important to him
  • They welcomed him with open arms, of course. “Thank you for telling us. And we won’t say anything to anyone without your consent. We are always in your corner, mate”
  • They heard Eric talking about his bf with so much love and they are so happy for him
  • They did meet Jack (over Skype) during their visit, and Jack was his awkward self at first, but the hyper twins could do anything and soon they were exchanging embarrassing stories about Bitty
  • “Bless your chirpy little hearts”
  • Just, although there are so many uncertainties, and Bitty is so afraid of the outcome of coming out to his family, he always knows that at least part of his family will always be in his corner, even though they are far, far away and cannot do much other than verbal support

“Five DesRon12 destroyers make formation S-turns in Iron Bottom Sound, off Guadalcanal. Savo Island is in the distance. They were returning from one of their raids on Rabaul in February 1944, and executed the high-speed turns as a salute to the three ships of the squadron that had been sunk in the vicinity of Iron Bottom Sound. This had become a custom whenever DesRon12 ships passed Savo Island after a successful raid against the Japanese.”

(NHHC: 80-G-220760)

Dean was shaking. He had been, in a lowkey way, trembling since Cas drove the blade through Billie’s chest. He understood completely why Cas had done what he did, but he couldn’t help but think there were serious repercussions on the way.

He stared blankly ahead, watching street lamps and signs fly by outside the rain splattered windows. Sam was leaning back in the passenger seat and, judging by the way his head kept flopping around every time Mary took a high speed turn, his baby brother was likely sound asleep.

Dean felt some relief at that. If Sam was sleeping, that meant he felt comfortable enough to do so. He felt safe. If Sam felt safe, maybe Dean could stand down. Maybe he could relax a bit himself.

Watching Mary watch the road, he wondered where she’d gotten that intense focus. God knows he’d seen that expression in the mirror a few times. She drove like him; sure, determined, and more than a little too fast.

Beside him, Cas stared out the window into the night. Something was up with Cas. That had been obvious before he so efficiently exterminated Billie.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, so low that he didn’t think Mary heard him.

Cas turned from the window and looked back at Dean, his eyes wide and sorrowful in the dim light coming from the dashboard.

“You ok?” Dean murmured.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Cas quietly rumbled.

Dean cocked a wry grin at his friend, reaching across the seat to take his fingers in his own. Cas glanced down at their joined hands, and the ghost of smile tilted the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s just be not ok together then,” Dean suggested softly.

Cas nodded and tightened his grip on Dean’s hand. As Dean felt his body finally start to relax, felt the trembling finally subside, he caught his Mother’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

There was no judgement there, just acceptance and a mother’s love.

Dean relaxed fully into the seat and let his head drift over to Cas’s shoulder. He followed his brother into peaceful sleep.


So, I wanted to tell you guys about vampires and their origins.

It is safe to say that the most popular vampire in the world is Count Dracula (or, like, Edward, but that’s just pop culture). We all know his story and how he is tied to Transylvania, which can lead to a conclusion that that is where the myths about vampires are from.


Since I am from Serbia and I love my culture, I am here to tell you the true origins and first myths about vampires, which have spread across the world and changed a lot ever since.

Note: Here I will be talking about the most common vampire myths and not those originating from Africa and Asia, since they are entirely different beliefs, entirely different origns and entirely different stories.


The first myths about vampires come from Slavs and their beliefs.

A vampire, especially on Balkan and in Ukraine, is considered a ghost of a dead person or a corpse which has revived. It was revived by an evil spirit or the devil; it is a decedent whose soul cannot pass to the other world, instead it stays trapped in the dead body.” ~Slavic Mythology, Nenad Gajić

The word “вампир” (vampir), meaning “vampire” (obviously) originates from Serbian language and it has spread worldwide, starting from the rest of the Slavic languages.

About vampires it has been written in the Emperor Dušan’s Code (1349) in the 20th clause, without naming them.

Soon after that, there was a story about a Serbian haiduk (loosely translated: rebel/brigand) called Arnold Paole (many think that this is an incorrect name and that the real one is Arnaut Pavle, where the first name isn’t a name at all and is actually a title). He claimed that he had encountered a vampire while he was serving in the army of the Otoman Empire. After his death, some residents of his village claimed that they have seen Arnold as an apparition. Soon after, the four people who had claimed this have died a mysterious death.

Other mentions of vampires include a book by Milovan Glišić called 90 Years Later, which tells a supposedly true story about Sava Savanović, one of the first vampires in literature.

After that mentions of vampires have only increased. For example, in 1923. Belgrade’s newspaper Time published an article about Paja Tomić, who has supposedly became a vampire.

Other than these, there have been many similar stories about people who have became vampires.

According to Slavs, how does one become a vampire?

The interest thing is that in Slavic mythology the belief that the bite of a vampire turns you into one does not exist.

So, if not by biting, how does one become a vampire?

Slavic superstitions about funerals and burying the deceased are tightly connceted to the beliefs about vampirism. Examples include:

  • If an animal jumps/walks over the corpse or if a bird or a bat flies over it, the corpse can revive
  • If someone’s shadow falls on the corpse, it can revive
  • If a person walks/jumps over the grave within the 40 days following someone’s funeral, the deceased can revive (it is also believed that if after these 40 days the person does not revive, they probably will not become a vampire in the future; this is connected to the belief that it takes a sould 40 days to pass onto the other world)
  • If a person succeeds in killing a vampire and if the vampire’s blood splashes them in the proccess, they become a vampire after they die

If any of the above is to happen, the revived starts to crawl out of their grave during the night, they choke people and drink their blood. When this happens, a crack appears on their grave through which they crawl in and out.

It is also believed that people who have sinned are most likely to become vampires.

Abilities, behaviour and appearance

According to this South Slavic belief, in this critical period (refering to the 40 days) the vampire can be seen as a shadow or cannot be seen at all, but he has the ability to turn into the animal which has jumped over his grave. Then he feeds on human blood, but also animal blood. His habitat is the cemetery, where he always returns when the sun starts to rise. If the vampire isn’t destroyed in the first 40 days of his “life”, he will, from the blood he has drank during the previous nights’ roamings, become so strong that he won’t need to go back to his grave in a long time. Then, he can also be seen at crossroads, in mills or in the houses of his closest relatives, where he stays for a long time.

Usually vampires are middle-aged people, mostly men. They have sharp canines and long nails, since their teeth, hair and nails keep growing even after death […] They are stronger than ordinary men, they can move at high speed, turn into different animals, cross any obstacle “except for water and throns.’’”  ~Slavic Mythology, Nenad Gajić

Furthermore, some myths say that a vampire sometimes wisits his widowed wife and can have children with her. These children don’t have a shadow, have less bones than the norm and a large head. They have the ability to find, see and kill a vampire.

Protection and prevention

Slavs prefered prevention to protection, but, according to them, there are ways to protect yoursef from a vampire.

First of all, to discover a vampire, a horse can be brought near the grave, since horses can sense vampires. Also, ash or dirst can be spread near the grave where later footsteps will be seen, if the vampire crawls out of the grave. Also, if the grave is dug out and the corpse turns out to not be rotten, its eyes are wide open and its hair and nails haven’t stopped growing, this means that the corpse has revived and is a vampire.

How is this vampire destroyed? It has to be dug out, stabbed with a stake and thrown into the flames.

As for the methods of prevention, they include:

  • burying a corpse face down
  • cutting off limbs or the head
  • sliting the tendoms under the knees
  • stabbing a hawthorn’s peg into the forhead

When it comes to methods of protection, this is where the Slavis beliefs meet today’s myths:

  • a (pre-Christian) cross painted on the door of a house
  • garlic
  • iron

So, there you have it! Slavic myths, based on my personal research. Please take into consideration that all of this had to be translated from Serbian, somwhere even adapted, and I am only an amateur.

Either way, I hope you liked it!

Peace out ✌

anonymous asked:

Sick sportacus, sportacus gets sick and apologizes a lot when sick. Can be prompt or hc which for me is hc xD

[ I’m going to kill two birds with one stone here. Sick Sportacus based from @rottensocksandfluff‘s wonderful art that was made for me <3 Hope ya’ll enjoy it! ]

Robbie had been deep in his lair, working on one of his latest inventions when his speakers just about exploded with shrieks. He nearly dropped the tool he was using, one hand gripping his heart. The moment the shock wore off, a deep scowl formed on his face. He stormed towards the periscope, hell bent on figuring out the reason for that irritating noise. While he didn’t find the brats all that annoying lately, even he had his limits.

Keep reading


~ Summary: You’re best friends with Murphy so when Bellamy banishes him you go and look for him, causing you to get kidnapped and tortured by the Grounders and then left in the woods only for Bellamy to find you and apologize and admit his feelings to you.

~ Warnings: Little bit of violence 

As you tip toed through the camp you slowly reached the wall where a few kids stood on top of it, less then normal since it was in between shifts  and dinner time so everyone was running late to their post so they could eat. Which was a blessing for you since you now had the darkness to cover you and less eyes to worry about as you headed for a hole in the fence right below their feet. But as you were throwing your bag threw the hole you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name.

“Hey Monty, what can I help you with?” you asked as you stood quickly and turned around to look at the boy who noticed how fast you had risen, realizing you were hiding something. As he stepped around to see what you were hiding you quickly copied his movement to block his view.

“What are you doing (Y/N)?” Monty asked you with a smirk as he lightly pushed you aside with a laugh, only for his smile to fade once he saw the back pack half way shoved out the hole just big enough for you to fit through. “Are you insane?” he whisper/yelled at you as he spun around holding your bag filled with clothes, food, and water. “I know you are upset about Murphy but running away isn’t going to help him, you are going to get yourself killed at most!" 

"He’s my best friend, I can’t just let him be stranded out there with nothing but the clothes on his back, I need to find him and know that he is okay. Please Monty, don’t tell anyone. I’ll be back by nightfall tomorrow, even if I don’t find him I’ll come back and try again another time, I promise you.” You said, pleading pretty much. You could see Monty’s anger flickering away and him starting to cave.

“Fine! But if you are not back before the sun falls tomorrow I’m telling everyone, even Bellamy and you know how he can get when people go behind his back.” Monty said as you hugged him quickly and mumbled a few thank yous as you shoved your bag threw the little hole, Monty holding the flimsy metal up for you to crawl out of.

“Yeah, he can be a dick like he always is.” you said as you crawled fully out and threw the backpack on and started to walk away from the camp, as fast as possible for you only had twenty four hours to find Murphy and return to the camp. 


You had been walking all night and the sun was starting to shine and you were loosing the darkness, suddenly becoming an open target for any Grounders arrows. And only after an hour of the sun being up you felt as though you were being followed but you just thought it was in your head for you had stopped multiple times and never saw anyone or heard anything. So you just shrugged it off and kept walking until you reached a body of water surrounded by bright green grass that went all the way up to your knees, tickling your finger tips. The grass closest to the water had a muddy base and a good amount had already fallen into the water, causing the water to have a mucky brown color to it. But you still bent down to wash your face and saw the water was still, meaning there was no current, and that it was a lake. So cupping your hands together you caused a rippled in the water and brought the brownish water to your face and splashed it on. You did that a few times until you couldn’t feel the sweat dripping down your forehead. As you stood up and wiped your face with your sleeve you were hit right across the face, causing you to fall to the side of the muddy river and slip right in, even with your nails dug as deep into the mud as possible. 

Dazed from what just happened all you could feel was water eating you whole as black spots flashed in and out of your sight. Before the water could weigh you down to the bottom of the lake a hand reached down and grabbed you, throwing back onto the grass. Letting out a few coughs off water you quickly grabbed onto your bag and pulled out a knife as you spun on the ground, knocking the Grounder down and then trying to stab him but being so weak and slow from trying to save all your food and water for Murphy you ended up missing him as he rolled away and only grazed his arm. It only took him a second to stand back up and hit you hard over the back of the head with the blunt end of his larger knife, causing you to pass out. From there on out you felt as if you were in a dream that was filled with pain. You came in and out of passing out from the pain of the torture that the Grounders inflicted upon you. But once they realized you were no use for them they dropped you in the middle of the forest to let you bleed out. For you had slices all over your stomach, right above your chest, your thighs, all over your arms, long streaks across your back, and small slashes across your cheek bones, right eyebrow, upper lip, both cheeks, and one long one across your forehead, and the newest of them all was the one slicing right across from your forehead, over your left eye and down to your cheek. 

You were unsure of how long you were taken but you knew that you were long past twenty-four hours, meaning Monty had told everyone, giving you a chance to be found. But as the daylight left and the night fell the chances became slim to none for everyone stops looking at night if they know what is best for them. Slowly you became less hopeful and started to understand if you were not found, even though you were scared of dying alone in the woods by yourself you had decided you rather die there then in front of a bunch of Grounders who wanted nothing more then for you to die. So as the moon rose in the sky you started to feel tired as the pool of blood around you started to cause you to shiver. Closing your eyes you decided you were tired, and if you couldn’t die with your friends, then you would at least die under the moon and stars. But within a few seconds of your eyes being closed you heard your name being shouted from a distance. Unsure if there was actually someone there or you had lost so much blood you were starting to imagine things you called back anyways. You had nothing to loose.

“I’m here.” you said with a strained voice, barley making any noise for all you had been doing for the past few days was screaming in  pain. “I’m here.” you said again, a little louder then a whisper like the last time. “I’m here.” you said in a raspy voice but it was starting to become what your normal voice would sound like. But soon the voice calling out to you started to become quieter, they were walking away from you. Taking a breath in, you started to crawl towards the voice that was walking away from you. But not even two crawls you were faced with a fallen tree, and there was no way you could get over that. So it was now or never. Taking a deep breath you yelled as loud as you could muster up. “I’m here!” you screamed, louder then you thought you could, killing your throat and causing you to slip from where you had been propped up on the tree, your blood making you slicker then before. As you laid there, unsure if the person had heard you, you finally let a tear slip from your eyes and run down and fall from the tip of your nose and hit the bloody grass. When suddenly you saw a shadow jump over you and the fallen tree at high speed and then turn quickly and slip down next to you on their knees. 

“Oh my god, (Y/N), you’re going to be okay, just hang on.” you heard Bellamy say as you still laid on the ground and hearing tearing noises. Then one by one you started to feel pressure being applied over your cuts. “You’re going to be okay.” Bellamy kept replying over and over again just loud enough for you two to hear it as he kept tearing parts of his shirt off and wrapping them around your cuts. When he became frustrated with ripping it he took it off and turned you so he could see your back, causing you to let out a groan in pain. “I know, I know, I just need to see them.” Bellamy said and once he saw them he knew he didn’t have enough left to wrap on your cuts. Cursing under his breath he turned you around and into his arms. “I’m going to have to bring you back to camp with some of them still open, just stay with me okay?” he asked you as he held you close to him and jumped the log, running faster then you ever thought he could. Each time you would let out a whimper or groan Bellamy would look down at you worried and say sorry. But you passed out right out side of the gates as you waited for them to open them.

When you woke up you were in the drop ship on a hammock with all your wounds stitched up. As you looked around you saw Clarke’s back turned to you as she talked with Bellamy, who had his arm crossed over his chest, supporting his other arm that had his hand up by his mouth, he looked worried. At your feet you had Monty and Jasper sleeping with their arms and heads against them, and then Octavia leaning against the drop ship’s wall looking down at you. When she realized you were awake she automatically broke into a smile and came over and hugged you. 

“Good to see you awake.” Octavia said as she let go of you, making it clear to everyone else who was awake to you were too. Clarke hugged you tightly and then Bellamy just stood behind her, unsure of what to do. Clarke caught on to the awkwardness and looked over at Octavia. “We’re going to leave you two alone, we’ll be right outside if you need us.” Octavia said as her and Clarke left in a rush, leaving you, Bellamy, and two sleeping idiots. 

“You shouldn’t have left.” Bellamy said in a hard voice, causing you to get defensive.

“You shouldn’t have banished Murphy then.” you said, getting angry already.

“Why do you care so much about Murphy? He’s a criminal.” Bellamy said, taking a step closer to your bed.

“We all are! Look around, this whole camp is a bunch of people that the Ark felt like they wouldn’t be loosing anything if we all died. That is how I have always been looked at and Murphy was the first person who didn’t see me as expendable, he is my best friend, that is why I care about him! Why do you care so much if I care about him?” I asked Bellamy, getting angrier by the second.

“I don’t.” he said with a clenched jaw as he looked away. 

“Yes you do! I know you do because you are-” and with that you were cut off by Bellamy taking a few quick steps to you, grabbing both sides of your face and bring his lips down to yours. It surprised you for a second, making you flinch away from him, but when Bellamy went to pull back afraid that he had gone to far you quickly grabbed the back of his neck and brought him down for another kiss. As he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours you couldn’t help but smile and let out a little laugh. “So you were jealous.” you said with a giggle, only making Bellamy roll his eyes with a small smile and kiss you again, a little harder for now he knew you were okay with it. And you would have kept going if you hadn’t been disturbed by dumb and dumber at your feet.

“Are we having a foursome because I’m all good with that, but only if I get to kiss (Y/N).” Jasper said, with Monty agreeing, only to have Bellamy chase them out of the drop ship.

anonymous asked:

For the RoadRat prompt thing: would you feel comfortable writing a high school or college/university AU about Junkrat having a crush on Roadhog? Maybe they kiss or do the do, whatever you're comfortable with!

Junkrat met Roadhog when the younger man was 19 years old, fresh out of mandatory highschool and rip-roaring ready to go on the adventures of his life in the outback. They met, specifically, at a junker meet up, a place for the technologically inclined punk scene could meet up and swap notes, earn prestige. Junkrat was a fair regular at the meet up, took to making small explosives at a young age and kept making them bigger as he grew. Junktertown itself wasn’t big enough that people didn’t know each other when they went to those kind of meetups anyway, so Junkrat knew everyone when he made the discovery of a lifetime. He’d been out in the outback, digging through the omnic ruins when he’d found a secret, the kind of thing he could sell and be set for life, and soon enough everybody knew it. That was the beginning of his problems, well, some of his problems.

Every junker who was worth his salt wanted his treasure, wanted the prestige and the money that came with such a discovery, and they’d kill to get it. Junkrat had spent most of a week living in burnt out husks of homes because the orphanage wasn’t safe anymore, but when the meetup came around, he couldn’t help himself. He had to go. And that lead to the chase.

Three or four guys, bigger than Junkrat, with homemade and scavenged weapons, were on his tail immediately, chasing him through the back alleys of downtown Junkertown, vaulting over trashcans the scared teenager had thrown down behind him. Junkrat was scared, fuck he was terrified, these guys would do anything to get his treasure, including mangle him, and he liked his body just the way it was. Well, that was stretching it a bit, but he didn’t want to get mangled. He’d been running full throttle, prosthetic leg straining under the stress of hobbling along at high speeds, and he’d half turned as he hooked a hand around a corner, glimpsing behind him as he careened around the brick wall only to slam into another veritable brick wall.

Standing just under 7 feet tall, Roadhog was massive. He must have weighed well over 300 lbs, most of it solid muscle, and the impact of Junkrat running full tilt into his hoodie covered stomach didn’t so much as stagger the man, but it sent the smaller Junker flailing back to the ground. Junkrat scrambled to his feet, peg leg slipping under him against the coarse dirt and he’s trying to figure out if Roadhog, massive, surgery mask wearing behemoth with a reputation that precedes him, Roadhog, was friend or foe in this encounter. People talked about Roadhog, not the way they talked about Junkrat or his treasure, they talked about Roadhog with fear in their voices.

They say he works for gangs as an enforcer, kicks the crap out of people who kill for fun, kills for fun himself when he feels like it. They say he’s on drugs, been on them since he was in the third grade. They say he killed a man for looking at him funny, and crushed junkers in his massive hands. Junkrat had heard the stories, told a few himself though he’d never seen Roadhog in person before, and to be honest he hadn’t believed a lick of them until he was sprawled on his ass looking up at the man. Those hands, wide enough they could engulf his throat and squeeze the life out of him, massive steel toed boots, one with a horn to it, perfect for puncturing precious flesh with just a kick, and the scars… deep gouges across his eyes, half hidden by shades and down beneath the surgical mask. The guy was a freak of nature, too big, too scary to be real, and Junkrat’s brain started forming a plan the moment he recognized Roadhog wasn’t reaching for his throat the moment he stood.

The junkers rounded the corner, stopping short in their chase when they caught sight of the big guy. “Hey… Roadhog…” One said amicably, like he was friends with the giant, or perhaps they’d worked together at some point on one project or another and Junkrat’s plan feels like its sinking before its even afloat. “We’ve been trying to catch this rat all day!” He points a tire iron at Junkrat, barely far enough away to keep from hitting him with the motion and Junkrat backs up a step. “Cripple’s fast… I-“

Roadhog cuts him off. “Buzz off.” His voice is deep, rattling and raking against Junkrat’s eardrums like a sentient orgasm, sending a quiver into Junkrat’s spine that’s equal parts fear and arousal. The man stops short, taking a step back as he considers his options. Roadhog’s big, probably armed if the hands in his pockets curling into fists are any indication, and the guy decided it was in his, and his buddies best interests to leave. He opened his mouth to say something, a threat maybe, but before a noise came out Roadhog is talking again. “Now!” he raised his voice, just a bit, and its enough to send the junkers packing, scrambling over eachother as they ran back down the alleys. Once they’re gone, Junkrat relaxes, shoulders slumping and letting his back rest against the brick wall behind him.

Now for his plan.

“Hooley dooley, you took care of those guys like they were toddlers. ‘buzz off. Now’ an all that and pshew away they go!” Junkrat spoke conversationally, shoving off the wall and turning to face Roadhog at what he hoped was a respectable distance. When Roadhog doesn’t speak, he continues like he hadn’t paused, hoping to fill the silence with his usual babbling at least until he got to the point. And there was a point. “You know those guys, cus uh, they are a right nasty lot, I tell ya what. Hah! Loved seein you send them packing though, ran off like a bunch of nancy’s they did.” He giggled, turning to look back after the junkers with a wide grin, smoothing his hand along his hair, singed at the tips. He turns back around to see Roadhog starting to amble away. Oh shit.

Junkrat hurried to follow. “Hey! Where ya goin? Ya doin’ anything?” He hopes it doesn’t sound like a pick up line because as much as he loves the idea of this man wrecking him, absolutely obliterating him physically and sexually, he doesn’t exactly want a one night stand right now. Maybe later.

“Leaving.” Roadhog snapped, turning a corner.

Junkrat hurried after him, taking the corner on his peg leg and skidding slightly before catching his foot under him again. “Wait! I have a proposition for ya!” He hurried to walk ahead of him, walking backwards so he could face the man. The more he looked though, the more that one night stand looked tempting. “You know who I am, right?” He hoped he did, otherwise it’d take a bit of explaining Junkrat wasn’t willing to do to pull this off.

“Jamison Fawkes.” The name rumbles out of him like smoke out of a fire, smooth and heavy, grating even as it drifted through the air and Junkrat shuddered. He could get used to his name in that voice. “You found that secret. The one everyone’s after.” It’s the most Roadhog’s spoken yet and it makes Junkrat want to readjust his shorts, but that woud have been a bit obvious. Instead he swallowed, nodded. “Why the hell should I care?”

“Because! Because…” He got lost for a moment, thinking too hard, and he wondered if this was a good idea. Roadhog was getting impatient, stopping in his trek through the alleyways of downtown junkerton a few steps too close to Junkrat. For a moment Junkrat’s stuck, thinking, but thankfully his mouth keeps going. “Because, my fine tubby friend, you could be the owner of 50% of whatever I get for the secret.” There. He breathed a sigh. It was out there. “And I mean, this secret…” He giggles ecstatically. “It’s big… big enough those junkers wanna kill me for it. Big enough some guys in black stopped off at the orphanage the other day askin’ about me… somebody’s gonna pay big for it.” He can’t help the grin. When Roadhog spent too long thinking on it, he started to panic. He thought fast. “PLUS!” He holds up his hands, one prosthetic, clunky, equal parts machine and trash, the other calloused and dirty, but flesh and bone. “Anything I get, you get fifty percent. Money I mean.” Of course he meant money, he berates himself, but he keeps his expression the same, wide grin, wide eyes, hands up in a placating manor.

“And what do I have to do for this 50%?” Roadhog sounded like he was considering it and that gave Junkrat hope.

“Protect me. Help me find a buyer who’ll pay top dolla’.” He breathed the words like a sigh of relief, like maybe just maybe the nightmare was over. The nightmare was never over.

Roadhog considered Junkrat, and for a few tense moments it’s like he’s on an examination table, all his parts being summed up. He got self conscious, thinking about all his parts. His chest wasn’t the right shape, his legs were mismatched, arms too, one of each junk and robotics cobbled together, his side is scarred from the explosion that took his limbs, barely there, but there. He didn’t have the right parts, anywhere on him, and he knew it. He shrunk in on himself, eyebrows furrowing and biting his lower lip self consciously and Roadhog huffed a laugh. “Deal.” The word rumbles out like a promise and one massive hand is offered. Junkrat swore under his breath when that massive hand engulfed his entire left hand, he wasn’t a small man, by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to Roadhog? He wanted that hand inside him, those fingers down his throat.

Roadhog shook his hand like a professional, nodding once before dropping it and Junkrat’s fairly sure his heart skips a beat when he nods for him to follow. He doesn’t question where they’re going, doesn’t question what they’re gonna do next. He thinks, just for a moment that this could very easily be a trap, but hey. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.

im-not-trash-im-recyclable  asked:

if you're still doing the first sentence ask meme, "Don't worry, I have a plan."

“Don’t worry; I have a plan,” the smuggler says, executing a high-speed turn that makes the freighter groan in protest.

“Crashing this ship is not a plan,” Hux says over the noise of blaster cannon fire.

They’re being pursued by the Trandoshan raiders who had descended when the arms deal Hux had been trying to facilitate had gone south. The First Order needed the ore the Trandoshans mined and the Order had the kinds of weapons they wanted. It should have been an easy exchange, but the Trandoshans had decided to double their price at the last minute. Hux and Kylo Ren, the smuggler he had contracted to transport the weapons clandestinely, had been forced to flee.

“Have a little faith, major,” Ren says, flashing Hux a white-toothed grin. “I’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this.” An alarm shrilled.

“They have a lock on us,” says Hux. “We have to break or we’re dead.”

“You think I don’t know that? Do me a favor, major, and shut up.”

Hux grinds his teeth, but falls silent. Ren slams the throttle and the freighter dives into a canyon. The alarm goes quiet as they get out of range of the raiders’ cannons. Admittedly, Ren is an adept pilot, maneuvering his ship around the curves of the canyon deftly.

“Hold on tight, major,” he says. “We’re getting out of here.”

The ship’s bow pitches up at a sharp angle, and Hux is thrown back into his seat. They blast out of the canyon and into the sky. They spiral up through the lower atmosphere, leaving the raiders’ ships behind. As they clear the planet, Ren says, “Brace for light speed.” The stars around them blur as they jump away to safety.

Ren lets out a triumphant bark of laughter. “I told you I had a plan.”

“You did, yes,” Hux says. He unclips his restraints and rises.

Ren engages the autopilot and gets up as well. He saunters up to Hux, wearing his self-satisfied smile. “Come on, major, admit it. That was some impressive flying.” He hooks his thumbs in his belt. “Don’t I get a ‘thank you?’”

Hux frowns. “You did your job. I hardly need to thank you for it.”

Ren drags his teeth across his lower lip, leaning closer to Hux. “I’d say I did a little more that my job. We weren’t supposed to outrun a pack of angry Trandoshans. Not every pilot could have managed that.”

“A commendable effort, then.”

Ren cocks a brow. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Hux asks.

“Stiff as a durasteel bulkhead.” His eyes flick down to Hux’s lips. “You should try to relax. I can help you with that.”

Hux opens his mouth to dismiss him, but Ren swallows his words as he kisses him. Hux freezes. Despite that, Ren moves his lips against Hux’s, gently parting them, pulling back slightly, and then moving back in. His hand snakes up to curl around the back of Hux’s neck. As his fingers slide into the hair at the nape, Hux shudders.

“That’s it,” Ren says, his breath warm on Hux’s face. “Relax.”

With a growl, Hux pulls him back to his mouth. He nips at his lower lip so that Ren opens for him. His tongue is slick and hot. He makes a low, satisfied sound.

When they break to catch their breath, Hux blinks at Ren, who looks a little wonderstruck. “Is that a satisfactory display of gratitude?”

“Give me about twenty more minutes of that and, yeah, that’ll satisfy.”

anonymous asked:

How do you make your dishes? I want to make hides and such, but apparently Polymer clay is toxic to leopard geckos/corn snakes!

Thanks for the questions, anons! I think I need to start making a FAQ page, too.

I make my dishes and hides of high-fire ceramic! I really would like to make a video but I am a bit shy. Maybe I’ll overcome this over the summer. I do have some in-progress shots, however.

Polymer clay is a kind of plastic that is porous and indeed isn’t safe to make things out of for pets (or for human food grade applications). However, there are ways you can make your own hides and customized dishes at home that are safe for reptiles, fish, and the like, and are pretty snazzy.  I’ll try to get some DIY posts up shortly. My summer schedule is slightly less hectic than the rest of the year.

For people who want to get into ceramics and pottery, the best thing to do is to take a class, such as at a community college, art center, university, or so on. It’s extremely expensive to try to start out at home because of the equipment costs and steep learning curve, and much easier to go through a school or art center. However, keep in mind not everyone at these studios will know how to make reptile, aquarium, or otherwise-pet safe dishes. In addition, many studios do not make their own glazes and may not know the recipes of commercial glazes or underglazes, or other details. They can be extremely competent and knowledgeable about ceramics, it’s just that the things that matter to a fish or amphibian or reptile aren’t exactly the same things that matter to a human.
I’m generally extra paranoid about this stuff, but I know everyone here is passionate about their pet’s safety and it never hurts to be extra careful.

I personally use a variety of clays and glazes, and we mix our own! I use a variety of different porcelains and a variety of stonewares. One of my favorite stonewares is one that fires to black in reduction – but sometimes it bloats because it’s formulated for oxidation and has so much iron in it that it kind of boils if the firing gets just slightly too hot. The clay boils.

The humid hide I made Intense is thrown from sculptural stoneware… which was never meant to be thrown. Haha. It has a lot of grog, which is like “clay rebar”. It’s fired, ground up clay added to the wet clay. This particular clay body is designed for large sculptural work and handmade tile, which is why I chose it, because I want to tile Intense’s enclosure in it. Since I want his entire enclosure to match, I threw the hide with it as well. Tile has a tendency to warp while drying and firing, and the higher percentage of larger grog helps prevent that. However, spinning on the wheel at high speeds turned it into a belt sander for my hands. Haha.

Previously I spoke about the glazes I use in this ask; I just finished up doing another glaze chemistry and calculation course. We’ve come up with quite a few new glazes and other fantastic things which is why I’ve been experimenting with new color combos in my dishes! 

My process for making things varies depending on what I’m making and whether I’m hand-building or wheel-throwing. I do a lot of both. The geode dishes and mushroom dishes I make are hand-built primarily from porcelain.

First I sculpt them, primarily by hand, and using some wooden and rubber tools, and some… rocks. Literal rocks. I also have a lot of stamps I’ve made myself. I’ve made these stamps out of ceramic. Tedious.

Mushrooms being sculpted, and some tools; my water cup (ceramic of course), an exacto knife, a soft brush, a rubber sculpting tool, a plaster cone, a… rock.

Mushroom dishes waiting on the cart to be fired! Aren’t they cute! This is the greenware stage and these mushrooms are leather hard.

After they come out of the first firing they are biscuit or bisque, depending on what pottery dialect your community uses.  They’re now porous and low-fired and ready to be glazed. More ultra-tedious. Then I stain the outside using studio stains, then wipe that all off. Here are the pieces at that point!

This shows both the black stain and the iron stain. 

Next another tedious step, I have to wax the entire outside, being careful not to get any wax anywhere it isn’t supposed to go. Then I apply glaze to the inside! Then they’re finally ready to go on the glaze cart for the final high firing.

Then I wait impatiently to see if they came out okay. I don’t have too high of a failure rate, these days. Haha. Not for the dishes at least. I tend to play fast and loose with my other pieces and a lot end up in the trash….

Long post is long, get me talking about ceramics and I can go on forever. Haha.


I was thinking about drawing more realistic wings on my Pegasus ponies and I drew some basic ones but then I thought maybe different pegasi have different wing types depending on their parents and family tree.This has probably already been done, and I’m not perfect at drawing wings but I feel like this will give me some practice and I kinda like there wings being larger than their bodies.

Twi: She has raptor like wings, just like the other princesses. They are powerful and wide so she can soar and climb to extreme heights.

RD: She has small swallow like wings that are good for quick turns, high speed and sudden stops.

FS: She has gliding wings that are long and slender, they are clawed and somewhat waterproof. Good for land and sea but they are high maintenance and must be cleaned daily to prevent mold.

TL;DR  I have a headcanon (that is probaly popular anyway) that pegasi can have different kinds of wings

anonymous asked:

i have a headcanon at overwatch headquarters, junkrat will swallow loose change to impress people and roadhog is always like "junkrat no" "junkrat stop" "junkrat pls"

Going along with the other HC about Junkrat being sheltered, he just eats anything and everything. Money is as useless as dirt in Straya, water and bullets are your currency. He doesn’t see coins until he gets to Sydney. They taste like blood, and he likes the feel of the metal on his teeth.

When he joins Overwatch, everyone sees how curious he is about his new homestead, asking questions and touching things. D.Va is a gremlin who tells him to drink hot sauce because it’ll make him stronger, or to touch a moving ceiling fan on high speed. They eventually turn into dares, and Junkrat is having enough fun roughhousing and being a nuisance to do everything she tells him. He’s a little desperate to make friends, so he does it all, including eating coins.

It takes only one time getting them caught in his throat and Roadhog giving him the Heimlich so hard it breaks a rib to get him to stop haha