The Official Church of Gale Weathers

swap! gewey

The wind-catcher crab is actually a species of mole cricket which lives in Middle Eastern deserts.

Using air pressure differences, the four wind-catcher 'towers' funnel cool wind down into the cavity of the shell and push hot air out.

plus some bullshit i did with nothing but canva, my mouse, and a dream (i didnt wanna reach all the way over to my drawing tablet)

From ancient to abstract, this one sure got around.

Trans dewey riley awww awwwwwww aww my fav aww awwwwww

Feminist dynamic trio Tatum, Sidney and Gale awwwww awww idc Tatum didn’t grow old with them aawww i made her part of the group awww

𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒄 𝑴𝒐𝒊𝒓𝒂 !! 🧪🗝️🕷️

i stayed up until 5 am drawing this because once i start rendering i cant stop 😤😤 (i love moira so much)

i think of all goth subcultures, victorian fits her best

moira had fallen asleep in bed, probably hours ago now, with her balcony doors open, curtains blowing in the warm night.

she leaves them open for that calming breeze, but despite that, it would never be enough for her. the fan she uses is honestly quite annoyingly loud, but the ambience was soothing. and, as if he knew it was an invite, her grim reaper appeared in the doorway of that same balcony, the sheer curtains blowing gently. he crept into the room, as quiet as he arrived. reyes was never in the habit of keeping track of time, because time didn’t matter to him anymore, the same way a handful of things didn’t.

moira didn’t make the cut for the things that stopped mattering. she was always going to matter, whether he liked that or not. but, every now and then, when he did catch her off guard, no amount of ignorance was going to repress that slight aching adoration for her.

and while lost in all of his deranged thoughts, he found peace when he was finally right next to her bed, listening to that same loud fan. he eyed her slightly less than peaceful expression, as he pondered what could be causing the furrowed brow on his doctor’s face.

reyes turned his head to the side, eyeing the fan he was standing in front of. he promptly stepped out of its way, the cold air brought back onto moira relaxed her muscles, a calmer expression appearing in place of the irked one.

she groaned quietly, making very light snoring sounds. reyes watched her chest rise and fall with each slow, soft breath.

he then eyed the bed, and how her comforter was halfway off of the corner, all of the blankets being a mess. he kept her in his peripherals as he made his way to the clumped up mess of bed linens, picking the half of the comforter up off of the floor, carefully folding it back onto the bed. he made sure it didn’t touch his exalted scientist, knowing he wasn’t going to be allowed to come in on hot nights again if he was “going to play around in her bedroom while she is trying to sleep.” or, that’s what he assumes she would say. which irked him to some degree, probably because of her assumption he is doing nothing helpful.

he’d love to see her try and call him useless when he is the sole reason for her cool temperature being regulated.

…

reyes looked at the fan.

…for being one of the two reasons, for her cool temperature being regulated.

reyes began to take off his cloak, removing every bandolier and smaller blade that he kept in his more than complex outfit.

(writer’s note what the fuck is this man wearing i hate him he’s beautiful)

he slumped over to the balcony, taking off his boots & leaving them by the doors. he folded the clothes that were draped over his arm neatly, and approached a small vanity near moira’s bedside. reyes put the folded laundry on the desk, and looked back at moira.

she was in the same position, right arm under her pillow, with her left hanging loosely over the edge of her mattress. nearly on her stomach, her left leg pulled up to her abdomen.

reyes crept over, silent as the night, and moved her further into the middle of the bed as delicately as he could, as if he were handling a flower from an endangered species. a flower that were to be handled by no one else, as far as occasionally not wanting anyone to even see it.

and, luckily enough, that same flower did not mind being handled by his gentle care. her snoring came to a pause, but as he let go, it resumed, as if waiting for permission.

he sat down, before laying on his side, in front of her. he sheepishly placed his right arm under her left, wrapping it around her waist line. moira’s left arm rested on his bicep, fingers gently curling around it, like that was where they belonged. she groaned, not bothering to open her eyes as she moved her right arm freely as if she had been awake the entire time, placing it on his shoulder and wrapping it around the back of his neck.

reyes froze, he stuttered under his breath. she shushed him quickly, a small smile forming. she leaned into him, pulling him closer, and used her right arm to hold his head under her chin.

she chuckled quietly, finding his sudden silence entertaining.

“I was just dreaming about you.” she cooed at him, gently stroking the back of his head. her hand would lead down to the ends of his hair, running her fingers through it to try and very mildly detangle it.

reyes grunted, his arms tightened around her waist.

“..Why?” he asked.

“Why was I dreaming about you?” she replied with a tone of sweet intrigue.

“Yes.”

she pondered, taking a lock of his hair in between two of her fingers, twirling it gently.

her face was a little red, her legs shifting around a bit. She kissed him on his head, then placed her chin atop of it once more.

“Goodnight, Reyes.”

he groaned, melting into her. he made a few noises that sounded like a very poor attempt at a goodnight, closing his eyes to rest within the safety of her arms.

reyes holding her hand when she steps down from anywhere higher up as if she even needs it and their hands connect as if it was second nature because she knows he’s going to do it.

he’ll stick his hand down her lab coat pocket so that it isn’t inside out, he’s constantly looking around the area behind her to make sure nothing is wrong. he knows her every expression and every. single. adjustment of her facial muscles and what that entails. he knows which smile is uncomfortable, which one is genuine, which one is a pleased, relaxed smile, which one of them is her most malicious and everything.

and don’t think for a second they cannot speak to one another through body language. he knows when moira wants to leave and she knows when reyes has noticed something’s wrong. and she doesn’t doubt him for a second, until she figures out that it’s some kind of hallucination, if it is.

he knows the circumference of her pupils when hate fills her eyes, or when love fills them.

nothing is new to either of them. they have existed for years, yet very little has changed. (hi frank zappa.)

like it or not they have worked together for years and that isn’t coincidence, that isn’t just… wow, they work well together! it isn’t anything simple, it is learning and experiencing one another to the point of understanding each other in their whole beings to the point of nearly consuming one another.

of course they indulge in the other, of course they’re encouraging each other’s crimes against humanity. they were both wronged for years and neither of them care for what society has to say about them. nothing could stop them from their infatuation with each other.