where's air

pippasaurs

Been curious since that picture of Jacky inside his body, the like storage area, can he feel that? Or is it numb like casing? If he is gaseous smoke stuff inside?

I instantly thought of that scene from Finding Nemo.

XD I don’t think he really feels it. I imagine it being like the inside of a plastic dinosaur, but no arms and leg holes, and full of green smoke.

I don’t know where the food and air goes. Alf just has this VOID in his neck where he stashes things. Jacky and Beel start calling it Alf-Jail because that’s basically what it is.

5

That’s my hc about how he got the idea for the tire bomb

I could have finished this sooner if I hadn’t procrastinated so much, i’m so sorry;;

4

i’m so full from all the hanhao feast

Fives is Graceful and Clumsy AF

He either stumbles like a newborn foal

or is as smooth as flowing water.

There is no in-between. Seriously, look at this nerd. Flawless execution.

Fumbling dweeb.

He can dodge blasters like a pro

but can’t stay on his feet.

Do a barrel roll!

Even when he does land on his feet, he kind of flops over and needs help standing.

His close-range coordination is abysmal (baby where are you aiming exactly?). But he doesn’t always get decked in the face.

Sometimes he’s tripped and then gets decked in the face (he really needs to stop trying to punch commando droids).

He has better aim with his feet

except when he doesn’t

DO NOT TELL ME HE TRIPPED CUZ OF THE EXPLOSION he was well on his way to face-planting even before the detonator went off. Someone protect this panicky dork.


Bonus: “Deadeye” Hardcase taking care of Business™ while Fives flails like a drunken nuna.

(more Fives stuff)

3

-kicks things around-

I WANT A BB UNIT SO BADLY NOW. heal my black and wounded heart. i’ll love it forever

POE TRIES TO PLAY HAND TRICKS WITH BB8. but BB8 cheats. because BB8 doesn’t know -cry- but BB8 loses anyway. and is embarrassed by it. i cry so much

if you’re down in the dumps as much as i am, i hope this helps ´w`/

i want a Poe Dameron and i hope he comes with a BB8 -crying-

[don’t use my art w/o permission]
[don’t tag as kin/me]
[keep the comments on]

Poe Dameron and BB8©Star Wars
-crying a lot-©me

I want something different.
I want random and special, stupid and non-significant, I want unforgettable and once in a lifetime.
I want a whole bunch of opposites, more than I can ever imagine.
I want an adventure.
I am finally ready to shed this part of my life, this is where I come up for air. Where I can walk away from the waves of despair and into the world of unknown.
—  sarahbishi, Things I have never told anyone
3

a waterfall of mist flowing over golden cliffs of west bay in dorset. noted the videographer, “when i walked on to the beach i couldn’t see anything because of the fog. i could barely see the top of the cliffs. i sent up my drone well above the cliffs to see what was happening and i could see the fog just flowing over the cliffs like a waterfall. 

normally, hot air will cool as it rises, but the opposite can sometimes occur in what is known as temperature inversion, where hot air high up acts as a seal to keep cold air and fog trapped below, creating the scene of a river of fog seeming to flow into the sea below. (x)

it really bothers me that people think that once you’re away from the abuse, you’ll instantly start recovering. in the times i had spent away from abuse, i had more panic attacks than i’d ever had before. that was because i was in a safer place to experience the feelings i’d repressed my entire childhood. it, unfortunately, really really doesn’t just stop or get better when you’re out.

3

Takeru (Yaku)
Sleepy.
Ok, let’s go to bed.
Good nya-ight!

Shouri (Kuroo)
A black cat!

Takeru (Yaku)
My black cat’s name is Moko, you can meet him later!

Translation by @nimbus-cloud

Yes, he said ‘oyasumi nya-sai’ so… cat pun.

260 NIGHTS OF THE YEAR, UP TO 10 HOURS AT A TIME, EVERLASTING LIGHTENING STORM

CATATUMBO, VENEZUELA


There’s something strange in the air where the Catatumbo river flows into Lake Maracaibo. For 260 nights of the year, often for up to 10 hours at a time, the sky above the river is pierced by lightning, producing as many as 280 strikes per hour. Known as the relampago del Catatumbo (the Catatumbo lightning), this everlasting lightning storm has been raging for as long as people can remember.

The lightning, visible from 25 miles away, is so regular that it’s been used as a navigation aid by ships and is known among sailors as the Maracaibo Beacon. Recent scientific studies have determined that the concentrated lightning is likely caused by an air current that sweeps moisture from the Caribbean Sea and drives it up above the lake. Climate research scientists are currently using Catatumbo as a testing ground to trial a lightning forecast system.



Encouragement here  (via your-recovery-space)
  • *Chuuya, Akutagawa and Dazai went on a hiking for once*
  • Chuuya: Don't you just love Mother Nature, you guys?
  • Akutagawa: *is wheezing and breathing heavily for air*
  • Dazai: *lying on the ground* MOTHER NATURE IS A F*CKING CUNT
something that probably happened
  • Shiro-4: I need a communicator to call air support! Where's yours?!
  • Cayde-6: *shooting at Fallen* BACK POCKET!! BACK POCKET!!
  • Shiro-4: WE'RE HUNTERS YOU HAVE LIKE TEN BACK POCKETS!!
  • Cayde-6: LEFT CHEEK! LEFT CHEEK! LEFT CHEEK! *tosses grenade*

Space.

Never-ending. Utterly and completely silent. A watercolor of blues and greens, whites and blacks. A place of complete tranquility but also dangerous conflict. Where stars ten thousand times larger than our sun can explode, and not make a single sound. The ultimate peace. The ultimate destruction.

The place in which I wish to be.

2

swag Johnny vs a Hansol lost into his own world

Walking on air pt. 1

AN: Newt Scamander has always had a crush on the reader, but they lost touch after he was expelled from Hogwarts. Will fate intervene and bring them back together?
Characters: Albus Dumbledor, Newt Scamander
Pairings: Newt X reader
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Prompt: “newt comes home and visits the ministry, where he bumps into his old crush and they hit it off again?”

——————

Newt was numb as he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, unable to process what had just happened. He was expelled, he’d really been expelled.

Newt’s lip began to tremble as he made his way outside, wondering to himself how long it would take for the news to spread. The voice in his head whispered that he was a failure, that he was a screw up, and taunted him for being unable to make even this one good thing last. Newt collapsed onto the grass, away from prying eyes, and finally let his tears flow, shock and frustration boiling inside him.

He heard footsteps and looked up, afraid that it might be some of the boys who were known to harass him, and relaxed when he saw you.

“Newt, is it true?” You asked, your voice shaky.

Newt felt his heart drop at the tone in your voice. He’d adored you from afar for years, and it was only recently that you’d become friends. It was like a hammer to his chest, the sudden realization that he’d have to leave you now and that your blossoming friendship would probably be destroyed.
He forced himself to look you in the eye, trying to memorize the details of your face for later, when he wouldn’t be able to be near you anymore.

You watched Newt, your gaze following the lines of tears down his cheeks and feeling your hope vanish as he met your eye. Newt was not usually comfortable with direct eye contact, a trait that not everyone understood, but you found exceedingly endearing, and the fact that he was making such an effort now, seemed to confirm your worst fears. You sunk down next to Newt, feeling oddly hollow and rested your head on his shoulder.

“What’re you gonna do?” You asked, “Where will you go?”

You felt Newt shrug, “I don’t know Y/N. I really don’t know.”

You swallowed hard and turned to look at Newt, gripping his hand tightly with yours. Newt recoiled, shocked by the intensity in your eyes but completely unable to look away.

“You’ve got to make something amazing out of your life Newton Scamander, you’ve just got to. Write that book you’re always talking about. Promise me Newt, promise me you’ll write it.”

Newt nodded, swallowing, “I promise.”

“Good.” You replied, “And write to me, tell me about the world.”

“I-I will.”

You looked momentarily conflicted, as though you wanted to say more but couldn’t quite figure out how to, but then gave Newt a terse nod and stood, brushing grass from your robes and heading back up to the castle. Newt watched you go with untold confessions on his lips and his heart breaking with every step you took, but you never looked back. You never let yourself take a final look at the odd boy. You didn’t think you could bear it.

——————

Newt Scamander breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the red phone booth that would carry him down to the ministry of magic. His book was nearly complete. All he needed now was a permit to study a rare breed of dragon he’d heard tales of in Northern Wales and he’d be done. Newt smiled as he remembered the promise he’d made to you all those years ago, and he traced the lines of his future dedication in his mind.

Right there, on the front page, in dark ink it would declare:

For Y/N Y/L/N who believed in a friendless boy, and whose promise I have now kept.
Sometimes Newt wondered if you even remembered that promise, the push you’d given him to follow his passion and make something out of his life, and he couldn’t help but hope that you did. His memories of you were some of the best he had, and he’d revisited each one so often that he’d begun to worry that they were fading. He could no longer quite remember the shade of your hair in the sunlight, or which of your hands you most liked to tap on your desk when you got bored but he remembered how important you’d made him feel and he remembered how much he’d adored you.
He’d never managed to write you those letters. For years he’d tried to, but at first he’d been too nervous and then too much time had passed and it just felt forced.

The doors opened and Newt found himself standing inside the ministry of magic, a buzzing hub of witches and wizards dressed for work and, in his rather flamboyant coat and scarf, he felt ever so slightly out of place.

“Um-excuse me,” Newt stuttered at the wizard manning the information kiosk, “do you know where I can find mister Understar I’m here to discuss with him-“

“Fifth floor.” The wizard interrupted, his eyes glued to a newspaper.

Newt froze, his words petering off into silence, “Oh, uh, thank-yes, thank you.”

He tried to look confident as he made his way to the golden elevators and began practicing his speech. He ran through the words he was planning to say to mister Understar in his head, muttering them under his breath as he squeezed the handle of his beloved suitcase. If everything went according to plan today, his dreams would come true and the world would finally understand the beauty and majesty of magical creatures. If not…..well, it’s not like he hadn’t done illegal work before, he was just hoping to avoid it this time.
His mind was buzzing with activity as the elevator doors opened and he strode out into the hall, his eyes searching for a specific office. Suddenly he stopped, causing a middle aged witch to walk directly into him and stumble off in another direction, mumbling irritably under her breath. Newt started to apologize, but his eyes remained fixed on the person that had so distracted him in the first place.
It was you. You were here and you looked…beautiful, older and slightly more tired than he remembered, but beautiful all the same.

Before he even properly knew what he was doing, Newt found himself walking towards you, his heart pounding in his chest like he was fifteen again. Your head was bowed as you scribbled something onto a piece of parchment and Newt felt a breathy laugh slip from his throat as you cursed under your breath.

Tentatively Newt reached out and touched your shoulder, all thoughts of mister Understar and even Northern Welsh dragons slipping from his mind.

—————-

You cursed, crossing out another word in your already sloppy letter. You were writing to your old teacher, Albus Dumbledor, a man who had helped shape you, and who you tried to keep in touch with on a regular basis. Your job kept you busy, but today was a quiet day, and you were planning on going home early, your mind already halfway back to your apartment. You felt a gentle pressure on your shoulder and instantly looked up, expecting to see one of your colleagues, here to try and convince you to help them with a job. Instead your eyes were met with the sight of a familiar nervous half smile, and a pair of green orbs that couldn’t quite meet yours and instantly your irritation morphed into pure joy.

“H-hi Y/N, I’m not sure if you remember me but I-“ the man started, his nervous stutter bringing back years of memories.

You let your quill and parchment clatter to the floor and pulled him into a bone crushing hug, laughing as your eyes filled with tears of happiness.

“Newt!” You exclaimed, “I can’t believe it, you’re really here.”

Newt felt himself blush as you hugged him, your voice just as warm and comforting as he remembered and he tried not to be awkward as he hugged you back.

“Yeah, I uh, I have a meeting with mister Understar, what’re you doing here?” He asked, pulling away.

As Newt stepped back you had to bite back a slight feeling of disappointment, but let him, reminding yourself that he wasn’t always comfortable with extensive physical contact.

“I’m an auror now.” You told Newt, trying to subtlety rearrange your robes and fix your hair.

Newt’s eyebrows shot up, “An auror, wow I thought-you always said you wanted to be an explorer.”

“Well I did. But my folks wanted me to get a more stable, secure job where I could actually make money.”

Newt laughed, not unkindly, “Your parents wanted you to do something stable so you became an auror?”

“It’s more stable than being a professional nomad.” You pointed out.

“Fair enough,” Newt countered, “are you-does it make you happy?”

You shrugged, “I suppose. What about you Mr. World Traveller? How’s that amazing life you were working for? You know I never did get that letter.”

Newt blushed and looked down swallowing hard, “Yeah I-uh,”

“Newt Scamander,” a bored looking secretary called, “mister Understar will see you now.”

Newt felt his heart drop. What had at first sounded like an exciting meeting was now a completely unwelcome distraction from a much more pleasant conversation. He looked between you and the office, weighing up the options in his mind.

“You’d better go,” you suggested, “I hear he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Newt nodded and walked away with a half hearted wave. In his mind he cursed his own awkwardness and hoped that that wasn’t the last time he’d see you. The last few years had been exceptionally solitary for him, but he’d never been lonely. He’d had his creatures, his book and his memories, but now, with you standing a few meters away, he wondered if that was enough. Was there a chance that Newt was missing out? Could there be a life for him outside of his creatures?

You, on the other hand, were wrestling with conflicting emotions. Seeing Newt again had reminded you of all the dreams you’d pushed aside, as well as bringing back all the affection and care that you’d felt for the boy. After all these years, he looked just as good, and just as kind as you remembered and it was difficult watching him walk away. He was moving forward, towards another exciting adventure while you stayed here. Stuck.
It was just like old times.

You sighed, running your hands through your hair and turned to leave, pausing as you heard footsteps echoing on the marble floors.

“Y/N!” Newt called, reaching out to stop the elevator from closing.

“Yeah?” You asked, trying not to let your gaze linger on his smooth lips.

“Do you-can I take you out tonight?” Newt asked, staring at the ground, his eyes only flickering to yours to gauge your reaction.

You blushed, “Um, sure. I’ll uh-where?”

“The Three Broomsticks at eight?” Newt suggested, “I’ve got some things to show you.”

“Okay,” you replied, smiling radiantly at the boy, “bye Newt.”

“Until tonight.” He countered.

You nodded, “Oh and Newt?”

“Yeah?”

“You look good.” You told him with an exaggerated wink.

Newt blushed deep red and your answering laugh followed him into his meeting with mister Understar. As he sat down and began to plead his case, Newt found that he wasn’t in the least bit nervous. He didn’t care what happened anymore, because he, Newton Scamander, had a date with Y/N Y/L/N, and he was walking on air.