i make awesome faces

Mccree totally has to spend the first 30 minutes of being awake in the morning trying to remove himself from hanzos death grip. Its got to a point where his body naturally wakes him up 30/40 mins earlier than he normally did cause of the sheer amount of times hes nearly pissed himself.

Even when hanzo does release him the archer is still half asleep but unwilling to let his cowboy completely go so he sleepily follows him to the bathroom and sometimes to the dinning area.

The first time genji saw this he was so shocked. Even in the old shimada home hanzo never had a half way stage to his mornings. He was asleep and then he was awake. End of story. The younger shimada doesnt even give his bro that much shit about how cute the very dangerous, very strong, very mature shimada hanzo is because hes just so happy that hanzo has found a place… or a person that makes him feel this safe.

Genji also learnt his lesson when he tried to tease his brother about his new morning clinginess and zenyatta brought up all the pictures of genji drooling on the omnic surrounded by teddies and floating harmony orbs to ward off nightmares.

Neither shimada brings it up again.

Sombra sure does though.

Droughtlander Art Challenge
Week 22 - Yellow Dress Watercolor

Hi friends! Back from my travels as of 11pm last night! Here’s one last painting I did back in June as I recuperate. I was inspired to try watercolors again by @rachellbostick and her beautiful pieces! Excited to catch up on all I’ve missed these last two weeks! (It sounds like there’s been a lot!!)

Have a wonderful week! September’s a week closer!


But I want a woman.


Always looking across to the other side. 


I was tired as heck last night so I didn’t get to post these right away lmao but here’s some of the rad stuff I got from Zenkaikon over the weekend!! :0 this was my first time going to a convention and holy hECK MY DUDES I HAD SO MUCH FUN!! I LOVED IT SO MUCH!! IT WAS HECKIN LIFE CHANGING YO I’M TELLIN YA!!

there were SO many amazing cosplays there I could hardly believe it!! I took way more pictures but out of courtesy to those cosplayers since I didn’t get their permission I won’t be posting them. 

but speaking of cosplays @rat-dad-mercenary and I went as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde from the webcomic The Glass Scientists on Saturday! it was so much fun! On Sunday I brought along my Ant-Man cosplay but unfortunately I forgot to take any pictures of myself individually lmao whoops. But I did get invited to a Marvel photoshoot along with a bunch of other Marvel cosplayers!! that was so cool!! if I get permission later when they post the pictures to the group on facebook I’ll be sure to post them!!

all in all this con was a blast and I rlly miss it a lot but I’m so happy I was able to attend this year! :0


a Papyrus expression photoset for all your Papyrus needs (?)

nothing of this is mine, this photoset was made from the awesome webcomic Insomnia, by the hand of the incredibly talented @wilyart

seriously tho, go read it




The dawn of a new era will bring about all manner of dissembling villains hidden within the light and shadows.

Some Mianite doodles of Alyssa and Mot <333

anonymous asked:

How about aliens reacting to humans who communicate with out words. Like my friends and I can have an entire conversation by making a few whistle/chirping/barking like noises simply because it's easier. And I have one friend who can speak in sync with anyone as long as she can see the side of their face. I feel like that would make an awesome story.

My dude, I’d suggest submitting this to @space-australians or @earthisspaceaustralia. I just came up with my junk on the fly. But I gotta admit, this is a great idea- aliens being freaked that humans can understand and predict each other so well that a few simple gestures can convey an enormous depth of meaning.

Imagine a bunch of aliens freaking out over the idea that humans might be slightly telepathic.

KH Aesthetics: Luxord

The fun is in not knowing, isn’t it? What is the point of betting on something when you already know the outcome?

ricketyjukeboxer  asked:

Prompt: "You look ridiculous with that on your head."

“You look ridiculous with that on your head.”

“I’m going to ignore that,” Dean says magnanimously, adjusting his grip on his foam sword and shaking his head cautiously to make sure his wig is still in place, “because I know I look awesome.”

Sam makes a face at him. It pulls at the red paint smeared in large square patches across his face.

“Awesome? Dude, you look like Thor.”

Dean grins. “So, a god among men? That sounds about right. Face it, Sammy, you’re just jealous that your hair isn’t the prettiest anymore.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but swallows any retort he was about to give as Charlie strides out in front of their “army”. The chatter around Dean dies down as everyone shuffles into some semblance of order, waiting expectantly.

Charlie plants her feet in front of them. She’s wearing a long tunic checkered with red, her own foam sword is strapped to her hip, and her hair is braided and pinned back to keep it out of her face. It’s a marked contrast from her normal look - usually some kind of graphic t-shirt, messenger bag slapping against her legs as she walks with Dean across campus to their Chem Lab class - but it’s a good look on her. She looks fierce and even a little intimidating, even though she’s nearly a foot shorter than everyone in her “army”.

“Followers of the Moon!” Charlie says, raising her voice so it carries. “I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.” She starts to pace with deliberate, measured steps. “A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! ”

Dean leans towards Sam and mutters from the side of his mouth. “Is that –“

“- the speech from Lord of the Rings?” Sam whispers back. “Yep.”

Dean straightens and barks out a quiet laugh. “That’s my girl.”

Charlies stops and glares at them all fiercely, eyes shining. “This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand!”

Dean turns his attention to the enemy army on the other side of the field. Their flag is raised high behind them, dark blue and bearing the emblem for the Warriors of Yesteryear, their “enemy” in today’s battle, and most of them are costumed accordingly in some type of blue garment or blue facepaint, a contrast to the red faces of his own army.

Charlie spins around to face the enemy army, pulling her sword out of her belt and raising it high. “For Moondoor!” she yells.

Their army surges forward.

With his own yell, Dean lifts his sword in the air and charges. Even Sam is getting into it, yelling aloud next to him as he runs, holding his own sword aloft. There’s a few moments of nothing but battle cries and thudding feet, and then they clash against their opponents in the field.

Dean disarms someone within the first three seconds, knocking the poor bastard’s foam sword right out of his hand and kicking it away. He lunges and jabs forward with his sword, careful to only spear the air right next to his opponent, but it gets his point across. The man claps a hand to his chest, sinking to his knees in his dying throes, and just like that, Dean has downed his first enemy of the day.

While the guy’s still pretending to die - this one’s a friggin’ ham, now convulsing on the grass and reaching up a grasping hand towards the sky - Dean rolls his eyes and turns to the next person.

He mock-fights his way through three more people, working up a light sweat and grinning with each opponent that he vanquishes. He dodges a few beanbags, clanks against a few shields, and “decapitates” his current opponent with a particularly stunning leap on his own part, if he does say so himself.

As he steps back from his vanquished foe, he catches sight of blue in the corner of his eye and turns to face his next enemy -

- and promptly trips over his feet. He quickly rolls with it, using his stumble to bring himself into a defensive stance with his feet braced apart, but goddamn, some kind of warning would have been nice, because his opponent is gorgeous -  young, probably around Dean’s age, with narrowed blue eyes and messy dark hair tousled from the breeze and fighting. And to top it off, the guy is shirtless, blue lines and whorls spiraling across his chest and down his arms. 

The guy adjusts his grip on his sword, and Dean’s eyes hone in on his hands. He has only the briefest of seconds to admire them, long fingers wrapped around the pommel of his sword, before the guy is rushing at him.

Dean barely gets his shield up in time to block him, and the guy manages to push him back a few steps. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Dean, and obviously pretty fit and toned because, oh yeah, he’s not wearing a friggin’ shirt. That should really be considered cheating.

Dean pushes back with his own shield and they step apart, warily circling each other. The guy meets his eyes and Dean winks, which only earns him a suspicious squint before the guy is coming at him again. 

Shit, this dude is intense, he takes his LARPing seriously.

The guy gets in several good whacks to Dean’s shield, which leaves it ringing and his arm aching, but he holds his own and manages to catch the guy on the back of the thighs with the flat of his sword. The guy jerks away, a bead of sweat trickling at his hairline, and Dean goes after him.

He’s grinning, he knows he is. He probably looks like a friggin’ nutjob, but he doesn’t care. This guy is good, he’s keeping Dean on his toes, and this is the most fun Dean’s had in ages, especially after all that bullshit with his finals.

It’s definitely a bummer when the guy manages to disarm him, Dean’s sword flung away across the grass. The guy slams their shields together in an effort to throw Dean off balance, and it works – he ends up flat on his ass, shield skittering away, a little dazed and a lot disappointed in himself. He prepares to be “killed”, closing his eyes and waiting for the guy’s sword to run him through, but it doesn’t come. After a moment, he cracks an eye and looks up curiously. The guy is just…standing there, fingers flexing around the hilt of the sword, looking a little unsure.

…well, maybe he’s not a goner after all.

Dean kicks the guy’s feet out from under him and the guy goes down with a yell, landing on his own ass. Immediately Dean rolls, grappling for the sword, but the guy recovers quickly and stretches his arm up to hold the sword out of reach. The shield gets tossed away as they grapple, wrestling for the sword. 

It’s not surprising that Dean is winning – he’s got a slight advantage in height and probably 10 or 15 lbs on the guy, plus it can’t feel great to be wrestling around in a field with no shirt – but then the guy arches up in an effort to dislodge Dean, his plush lips parting with a grunt of effort, and Dean’s brain kind of fizzles.

And that’s how he finds himself flipped onto his back a moment later, arms effectively pinned to his sides in the grass by the guy’s knees as he straddles Dean’s waist. He’s leaning forward, bracing his weight on his arms on either side of Dean’s head. The bastard still has ahold of his sword in one fist. They’re both panting, sweaty.

This may be the most turned on Dean has ever been in his life.

“Do you yield?” the guy asks - no, growls - and holy shit, his voice.

Dean stands corrected. This is the most turned on he’s ever been in his life.

He nods, throat working as he swallows. The guy lets out a breath, some of the tension and fight leaving his body, and it brings him a couple of inches closer to Dean’s face. Dean blinks up at him, frozen, pinned by those blue eyes. Neither of them move.

The sudden sounds of cheering and whooping startle them both. The guy is swinging himself off Dean’s lap and standing up before Dean knows what’s happened. After a moment, he follows suit, clambering to his feet more slowly and telling himself that he’s not disappointed. His army is cheering nearby, weapons raised in the air. 

Huh. Apparently Dean’s army won.

He turns to grin at the guy, still standing stiffly near him, and holds out a hand. “Good game, man. I’m Dean.”

There’s only a second of hesitation before the guy takes his hand and shakes it. “Castiel.”

“Nice to meet you, Castiel,” Dean says, and he means it. Christ, does he mean it.

He staggers suddenly under the weight of someone launching into him, releasing Castiel’s hand and automatically winding an arm around Charlie to hold her steady.

“We won! Victory to the Followers of the Moon!” Charlie shrieks in his ear, and he winces. 

“Easy there, Chuckles,” he chides, setting her back on her feet. He turns to Castiel, intending to make a polite introduction, but he’s startled to see that Castiel is already fifteen feet away, striding back to his own army without a backward glance.

Dean does not pout. He doesn’t.

Charlie’s elbow catches him in the ribs. “And what was that?” she asks slyly. “I saw you fighting a little during the battle. You know you’re supposed to kill the enemy, right? Not dry-hump them on the field?”

Dean splutters. “I was - we were not dry-humping, Jesus! I was trying to get his damn sword!”

“Sure you were,” Sam snarks from his other side, and when the hell did he pop up? Creeper.

“Shut up, assholes,” Dean mutters. He pushes Charlie in front of him, trying to herd her back up the hill towards the rest of camp.

She twists around to smile at him, walking backwards with effortless ease. “Don’t worry, Dean, there’ll be more battles, and there’s LARPing every weekend. I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

Walking behind them, Sam snorts. “Yeah. Too bad he thinks Dean looks like Thor.”

With dawning horror, Dean reaches up a hand to his wig - the one he had forgotten all about - and groans.