#extreme driving

[imthebentley]

One time, we were going to France, we drove really fast off the ferry before the ramp was fully down and did this amazing jump before landing unscathed and skidding away.

And to this very day they call Crowley ‘Rampa’ in France, and that’s why.

[demigods-posts]

we already have the percy whose scalp is always somewhat damp because he wants to feel the moisture on his skin. the percy who takes bubble baths twice a week soley so he can nap underwater when he's away from the beach. the percy who once drank four gallons of water in two hours and felt like he was king of the world for a week straight. but give me the percy who gets overstimulated from being in the water too much. the percy who spent his three-day weekend putting a stop to a war between the fish of the pacific and atlantic ocean. the percy who returned home with his hair dry as a bone. the percy who locked himself in his room and refused to touch water unless he was nearly dying of thirst. the percy who damn-near asked his father to disown him for a few days because being directly linked to water made him want to cry.

[mroddmod]

she’ll be alright because she had you.

[andatsea]

Dusk lingers in your hand.

--

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[hattersarts]

maiden in the garden

[starry-bi-sky]

wolfpack. aka: if not friend, then why friend-shaped?

"Hey-- uh, Danny?" There's an almost imperceptible tremor in Tucker's voice.

Danny doesn't look up from what he's doing, his pencil scritching across his notebook as he tries to do another quadratic formula question. "Hm."

"What's -- uh -- what's with the dogs?"

He looks up now, and finally sees where Tucker is -- standing in the doorway of his room with an ashy look on his face and a skewed, nervous smile. He's got a white knuckle grip on the doorknob. Sam is wide-eyed behind him, and using him as a partial meat-shield.

Danny looks down to the two giant ghost wolves sprawled next to him lazily. One large green one with his head in Danny's lap, letting him use him as a prop-up for his notebook. Another equally large black one splayed against his hip, sleeping on her side with her head tilted inward to his calf.

Automatically, a grin tilts across Danny's face, and he lifts his notebook up to scratch behind the green one's ears. He opens a lazy eye, one that is bloody red with a ring of yellow around the pupil, before slipping it shut and leaning his head into Danny's touch. "This is Sirius and Procyon," he says, and reaches down to scratch Sirius' belly. "And they're not dogs, they're wolves."

"Great," Tucker says, his voice suddenly much smaller and faint, "Love that distinction."

Sirius makes a great big groan, and Danny's grin widens, his heart swelling with fondness. His hand slips away from her belly, and before he can put his notebook back down, Procyon pushes his head up his lap until his ear is against his stomach, demanding pets now too.

Sam peeks her head up from over Tucker's shoulder, "I think what Tucker's asking here is what are they doing here, Danny."

He shrugs, scratching under Procyon's chin. "They kinda just showed up. I tried sending them back to the Zone, but they keep returning." And they were weirdly intent on just following him around, which is the only reason he gave up on returning them. They weren't causing trouble, and they knew how to hide around the living. Plus, he just loves dogs. "So now I have two wolves living with me."

This, oddly enough, did not do anything to calm Sam and Tucker down. Tucker's mouth purses into a thin line, and he presses the sides of his palms to his lips in prayer. "How have your parents not found out about this?"

Danny wordlessly raises his hand, and his sleeve slides down to reveal a thin chain bracelet hooked around his wrist. He whistles sharply, and both Procyon and Sirius jerk their heads up to look at him, ears pricked up and eyes alert.

Silently, he points to his wrist and rattles it twice, and in unison both wolves stand up and pounce. Instantly, they turn into a respective, opaque black and green mist that swirls around the bracelet and forms into two, flat wolf charms.

Both wolves are posing in the stereotypical wolf howl, with little stars indented on the sides. Procyon's charm has the Canis Minor constellation engraved on it, while Sirius has the Canis Major.

Danny faces Sam and Tucker, and points at his wrist. "Like this."

[mummifiedgoose]

Way back when in 2018 I discovered Tumblr while searching for Red Dead Redemption 2 fan content so, in the spirit of that, thought I'd post my RDR2 tattoo on this bitch. It's Arthur's drawing of a buck :)

[dameronalone]

thinking about how percy jackson is seen as intimidating because of his godly powers from his father but the thing that makes him the most dangerous is his humanity from his mother

[compressedrage]

The words still aren't wording, but *gestures desperately to Chosen*

this?

this is a cornered animal

lashing out

...until he physically can't anymore

[kumakuma-circus]

i've been slacking on posting these. here's some silliness.

[orcelito]

everyone always talks about That One panel of Trigun: Multiple Bullets, but i havent seen anyone talk about how fucking BATSHIT INSANE the surrounding fight is

like

Vash & Wolfwood fighting back-to-back, both using the punisher as a shield

(the rest under a readmore bc this accidentally got LONG...)

Vash seeing the shots coming from behind & purposefully not moving bc he knows if he does, Wolfwood would get hit

Wolfwood getting injured too, but not moving from Vash's back. the way he's stanced, it looks Protective. he's doing what he can to keep Vash out of the direct line of fire.

even when he's getting shot up for it, he Doesn't Move. (this also seems to be the moment he got hurt, which leads into the panel later)

& throughout this whole scene, we are only seeing Wolfwood's reactions.

until the girls give them an opening, and they burst out with THIS:

Wolfwood injured, so he can't properly aim the punisher... and he gets around this by sticking one of the leather straps in his Mouth

and then we FINALLY get to see Vash's face again as he grabs the punisher (with a "GAN" sound effect, so he fuckin SLAPPED that metal hand on the punisher).

Wolfwood trusts him enough to just do what he says in the thick of battle, so we FINALLY get to the iconic panel:

which brings us to the aboslute insanity of what Vash is actually Doing.

"DON DON" -> two shots fired for two missiles launched. he literally manages to TURN THEM AROUND MID-FLIGHT (interesting to note that they seem to have internal propulsion, rather than simply being fired by Wolfwood. how many of these does Wolfwood have? they seem heavy.)

he manages to avert the third missile from hitting the dude directly, and instead makes it land Behind him. then the other two missiles, he rests his arm on Wolfwood's shoulders to hit them and direct them behind the other two enemies

Boom.

killing no-one, but showing an INSANE level of fine control AND teamwork.

and in the end, Wolfwood's arm is in a cast, Vash seems either unhurt or hurt but unbothered by it (typical Vash). And Life Goes On.

(forgot to mention before, but all panels are from @trigun-manga-overhaul! thank u for the beautiful pages)

[transrevolutions]

expanding on my previous post actually every single oiar employee (including lena) is autistic they all just have different and clashing presentations. that "weird interview" celia and sam were discussing in episode 6? yeah that was just lena attempting to give a poorly-disguised diagnostic test.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

Good News: @evilscientist3 and I are back in Toronto safely!

Bad News: I got got the last hour of driving in New York by an (looking back on it) EXTREMELY obvious speed trap where they have that thing that's a lil 35 mph road area sandwiched between two 55 mph backroad highways

Miscellaneous News: I hope the court clerk is prepared for a envelope in ornate blackletter and a bee themed wax seal :)

[bioethicists]

it's quite offputting to me when ppl can't disentangle their hatred for capitalism from a hatred for... new technological innovation? the ways in which capitalism has shaped the development of certain technologies has been deeply negative, not to mention that imperialism ensures that new technology is usually produced via extractive relationships with both the planet + ppl in the global south.

but this weird tying of capitalist impact on innovation (+the idea of what is/is not innovation) to hatred of innovation itself (or even more disturbing valorization of "the good old days"/implications that technology is causing social degeneracy) is baffling to me. perhaps it is impossible to achieve specific technologies without unconscionable resource extraction practices, in which case they should not be pursued. but so many ppl act like there is something inherently morally suspect in pursuit of tech such as autonomous vehicles or AI or automation, independent of the material conditions that produced them/that they may produce.

tesla is evil because they exploit ppl for profit + participate in an economy built on the exploitation of the global south + use 'innovation' as a marketing tool to mask serious safety concerns. they're not evil bcuz they want to make vehicles that move on their own. there are actually a great deal of fantastic applications for vehicles which move on their own? equating technology with moral decay is not a radical position; you need a material analysis of why technological innovation has become characterized by harmful practices.

[so-very-small]

“I don’t want to do this.”

“C’mon, you know weddings are fun! You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not the actual shindig that’s the issue; it’s the traveling four states over to get there. That drive is gonna take me like, twelve hours. Be glad you’re a borrower and don’t have to travel for cousins’ weddings.”

“Dude, you’re joking, right? Last year my brother had a destination wedding, two blocks down the street at that house with the big birdbath. It took me three weeks to travel there. I had to fight a CHIPMUNK.”

“Goddamn.”

“I wish I could have drove. The birdbath pool party reception ruled, though.”

“Oh, nice. Open bar?”

“Tinies don’t do that. It was Open Bottle. One open bottle of rum, and we were thriving.”

“Fuck yeah.”