mytrainofthoughtsarunaway asked:

More Tadashi-as-Sunfire AU! It's gorgeous!

I haven’t fully fleshed out any type of story for the AU yet (since i’m not sure how many I can juggle at a time), but I did change the armor from yellow to a more orange for the sake of him not resembling Gogo, so I can give you this for now?

Also he has cool eyes in this au. I like his eyes. Very uh… red/yellow with flecks of dark brown.

anonymous asked:

Sjw Scorpius Malfoy

Scrap the SJW bit because there’s too many negative connotations attached to that phrase. How about Social Activist Scorpius Malfoy™, who befriends Rose Weasley and is horrified to find out her mother had once been tortured for her blood status? So he starts studying out the grim history of blood status in the Wizarding world and is shocked to find the Malfoy name has been marred by prejudice. He confronts his father, who admits there was some wrongdoing in the family. Angry, Scorpius, who enjoys a bit of popularity at Hogwarts due to his good looks and being an excellent quidditch player, begins to use his position to speak out against blood prejudice and the horrors it brings (because it didn’t just magically disappear once Voldemort died). He’s met with some opposition from the Potter boys, because they’ve long heard about the Malfoys’ role in the war, and they think Scorpius is disingenuous in his intentions and that he was put up to it by Draco to make the family look good again, and a whole big hullabaloo is kicked up and it’s Potter vs Malfoy all over again, much to the older staff’s disdain.

How does it get sorted out? Will Scorpius ever be able to convince the Potters his stance was born from the desire to be better than has father had been, not to eradicate the dinginess that still clings to the Malfoy name? Stay tuned.


please let them find Peridot in a cave somewhere with semi functional computers and gadgets built out of scrap she’s scavenged from the dump and they only find her because they can hear her talking and laughing and when they stumble upon her cave there’s just all this crap she’s trying to patch together into a space ship or a beacon and she’s entertaining this thing proudly perched atop a pile of computer parts and garbage and it’s just

Still wondering where those 800 walkers that Nicotero said were used in the MSF wandered off to.


That’s a lot of extras to pay. That’s a lot of hair and make up to do. That’s a lot of wardrobe to use. That’s a lot of potential special effects to create. That’s a lot of professionals to pay to make it all happen. And that’s a lot of time to waste during a tight filming schedule.

In short, that’s A LOT of money to spend just to end up scrapping the footage. Not just money, but resources in general. I know the show makes a lot of money, but throwing that much away on a scene that somehow didn’t make the final cut is just absurd.

And those “800 walkers” couldn’t have shown up just to breeze through town and be on their merry way. Their inclusion in the (original) plans implies that a different story was going to be told during the MSF. What happened to that story?

What the hell happened?

Norway: After banning kosher slaughter, gov't now wants to tax imported kosher meat

The government says they want Jews to stay in Norway, but it’s hard to believe they really mean it.

Via Vårt Land (h/t  Norway, Israel and the Jews):

The Agricultural Ministry recently raised the tariffs on kosher meat imported into Norway.  Kosher slaughter is illegal in Norway and Jews who wish to eat kosher meat must import it from abroad, which already makes it very expensive.  Currently, a pound of kosher minced meat costs $11.  With the additional tariffs it would cost almost $20.

Following complaints, the ministry froze the tax-hike pending review.

Ervin Kohn, head of the Jewish community, wants the tariff to be scrapped.  He says there is no reason Jews should pay more in order to be Jewish in Norway.  In fact, he says the state should subsidize kosher meat, so that it would cost as much as regular meat.

Last year, when there was a shortage of pork ribs just before Christmas, the government cut the tariffs on imported pork. to allow Norwegians to enjoy their traditional Christmas meal.

The New Antisemite

Tom Hardy is both a hard man, and a massive softy. And he doesn’t do either half by half. On the left side of his chest, as he lifts up his shirt to show me (steady, lads), he has a tattoo of a Buddha holding an AK47 assault rifle. He says he’s thinking about becoming a vegetarian, then suggests going for a burger (“I did say thinking about it,” he points out). He admits that he enjoys a good scrap, but also says that he went fishing recently and couldn’t bring himself to kill what he had caught; the whole “taking another life” thing is also the reason he’d never want to join the Armed Forces.

- Tom Hardy in Esquire - and the gif is showing that new tattoo. From this very silly video among a whole slew of wonderfully silly lipsynching videos.


Started work on my festival attire for this summer’s vending season. I’ve never made a leather “mountain man” shirt before, and finding a pattern to use as a blueprint was hell (apparently, there are only two sizes for leather shirts: Men’s XXL, and 8-year-old Cub Scout size). So a lot of this was just guesswork and experimentation.

I had to use an entire side of split beef leather for this project, but since I got lucky and dug up a whole skin from the scrap bin at PLC, it cost less to make than you’d expect.

Now that I have a better idea as to what the heck I’m doing, I’m planning to make a second shirt from a brain-tanned elk hide I recently got at an estate sale. All the scrap leather from both of these projects will go toward to creation of a new cape that I will probably list in the shop (if I don’t end up wearing it myself!).

Sometimes you painstakingly plan and save and work towards a big Pacific northwest vacation to see your country’s great national parks and dream of moose sightings and camping under the stars and day-long backpacking adventures and new hiking boots.

And sometimes you and your husband have a winter/spring so stressful and busy that you barely see each other and finally you have a drunken heart-to-heart where you both admit all you can think about is frozen drinks and sand between your toes and tan lines and you say “fuck it” and scrap the park plans and book a two week beach vacation instead.

Montana, see you in 2016. Perdido Key and Islamorada, see you in June.

A potion made from a medieval medical recipe killed MRSA bacteria in the lab, raising hopes it could lead to new treatments for modern-day skin infections


The potion was tested on scraps of skin taken from mice infected with methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus. This is an antibiotic-resistant version of the bacteria that causes styes, more commonly known as the hospital superbug MRSA. The potion killed 90 per cent of the bacteria. Vancomycin, the antibiotic generally used for MRSA, killed about the same proportion when it was added to the skin scraps.

One up for Anglo-Saxon Leechcraft?


Week 14 - Tray Folio

With so many steps in the process, folio boxes are difficult to make for a beginner such as myself. I’m determined to make a passable copy with all the nitty little details correct…prolly take me 20 attempts ; ] The 8 prints contained by the folio are from the “one March morning” series.

Note: When I’m in the heat of battle of making these things I tend to not think so clearly. I made a mockup from scrap of the tray top and standing edge to study the sequence, cuts, mitering etc. of the covering…without the pressure of wasting good materials.

Korrasami, DIY Mechanic

Fluffy nonsense.


Cross-legged on the garage floor,Korra looked at the sheets of diagrams again. She followed the lines of pipes and gears. Her finger left a greasy stain across the paper.

“How hard can it be?”

Naga looked up from where she was chewing on a piece of scrapped tyre. One ear stood on end but as soon as she realised Korra was not entertaining taking her for exercise, she went back to chewing.

“Piece of cake,” Korra said. She looked at the diagram again. “The thingy is connected to that round piece by a twisty bit and yeah… Easy.”

Korra held up the diagrams so they aligned with the car she was working on. It was a beat up old thing that had seen better days. Asami had drawn up the plans to give it new life but she never had the time. Production of a new satomobile and company expansion was consuming all of her time. She was hardly ever home.

What little free time Asami did have, she spent with Korra. They walked through the parks together and took Naga for playtime down on the beach. Other times they stayed home. Korra’s favourite activity by far was sleeping in the warm sun, her head pillowed in Asami’s lap as she read aloud.

Whenever Korra suggested Asami fix the satomobile, Asami always declined. Always with a dejected look on her face. She would smile a moment later and kiss Korra softly. She always said her time was better spent with Korra.

“I can fix the car,” she said, resolute.

Korra put the plans back on the work bench and weighted the corners with scraps of metal. She checked what she was doing once more, absently wiping her hand over her forehead to clear loose hair away. The first part she needed was the pipe.

Asami’s workshop-come-garage was meticulously organised. At least, it was usually. Korra had already desecrated the tool racks in search of a spanner and the shelves of spare parts were more than a little traumatised. After searching for a few minutes, Korra found the pipe. It was the wrong shape but after a little metal bending, she had something that looked vaguely like Asami’s drawing.

The pipe was labelled as part of the exhaust system. Korra lay down on her back and wriggled under the car. Where the pipe was supposed to go was easy enough to find. It did not quite fit the alignment so Korra again resorted to metal bending to get the right fit.

Once positioned, she used the tip of her finger to create a welding torch. It took a lot of concentrating to keep the flame small and hot enough to join the metal. She was sweating profusely by the end and breathing hard.

“Easy,” she said, wiping her face.

She returned to the plans for the next step. Asami had drawn what looked like a set of cogs and wheels assembled on a single axle. On another page there was a more illustrated version that included various belts and pistons it would be mechanically mated with.

“I don’t see anything like that around here,” Korra said. She scratched the back of her neck. “Guess I’ll do that bit later. Maybe Asami can show me where they are.”

Korra rifled through the sheets until she found something she thought she could do. She took the plans over to the car and metal bent the hood open. It groaned and contorted as if it had lost a fight with a baseball bat. Korra shrugged and hung the papers off a hook on its underside; she could bend it back into shape later.

The section she was looking for was buried under the engine block. She grabbed the nearest ratchet and attacked the bolts holding the engine in place. She pulled wires and hoses and belts out of the way; anything that hindered removing the engine. Eventually she had it. After much cursing, she lifted the engine loose, helped by bending, and dropped it on the concrete behind her. It pranged against the side of the car and something snapped off the bottom.

Korra flinched as a piece of shrapnel careened across the garage and hit Naga square on the nose. “Sorry, girl,” she said. Naga wrinkled her nose and dragged her tyre piece to a safer location. “I’ll fix that later.”

Asami’s drawings showed a system of hoses pumps. Korra could feel water within the system but it was thick and unresponsive to her water bending. She tugged at it harder, concentrating her will on the inside of the system. She wanted to empty it before she went re-channelling hoses and welding new pipes in place.

When the water still would not obey her command, Korra bodily leaned into the engine bay to get a grip around one of the hoses. She was going to rip it free of the car and drain it the old fashioned way if she had to.

With her legs kicking in the air for balance and cursing up a storm, is how Asami found her.

“Uhh… Korra?”

“Asami!” Korra rocked back to her feet and smacked her head off the distorted hood. The plans tumbled down around her. She brandished the tool in her hand accusingly. “What are you doing here? You said you were working late.”

Asami cautiously stepped into the garage. Her mouth was agape. “I came home early,” she said, surveying the room. “I thought… Korra, what are you doing in here?”

Korra grinned. “I’m fixing the car for you. You said you didn’t have time.” She blushed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It’s definitely a surprise,” Asami said. She stepped around the engine block and came closer.

Korra watched her take in the room. She was making the same face she did when Korra tried to cook. Korra slumped against the car and let the ratchet in her hand fall to the floor. “I broke it more, didn’t it?”

Asami looked into the engine bay over Korra’s shoulder and Korra could practically hear her teeth grind together. “It’s okay,” Asami said. “I can fix it. I think…”


Asami looked at her. “You’re filthy,” she said fondly. She swiped at Korra’s cheek and showed her the stain of oil there. She was smiling. “Don’t be sorry.”

“But I–”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Asami said. She moved in close, so she was as near to Korra as possible. Her cheeks were flushed. There was a weighted look in her eyes. “Besides,” she said, voice low, “worth it.”

Korra smirked under her bangs. She sighed as Asami’s arms wrapped around her and fingers worked into her lower back. “Yeah?”

“Engine oil and sweat is a good look on you.”

Korra hummed, nosing into the crook of Asami’s neck. “Now you know how I feel. Watching you work, it’s a religious experience.” Korra sighed as Asami kissed her temple. “I’m still sorry about the car.”

“I’ll help you fix it,” Asami said. “We’ll do it together.”

“Really?” Korra pulled back to look at Asami’s face. She was smiling at her in the way she would never be tired of. “I’d like that.”

“Me too. But first…”

Asami reached over and unlocked the satomobile door. She urged Korra down over the backseat and settled over her. In a single, fluid move, she pulled her hair loose and leaned down. Korra breathed deep the smell of her; ink and engine oil, hiding under a wave of citrus. She threaded her fingers into Asami’s hair and tugged her in for a kiss.

The backseat was a poor fit for them. Their legs were hanging off the end and Asami was awkwardly positioned over Korra’s hips. They made it work. Korra opened her mouth and pulled more insistently. She was becoming lightheaded. Asami’s weight soothed an ache she was only now realising.

“I need to break things more often,” she said, arching as Asami kissed down her neck.

Asami chuckled and lightly nipped at her collar. “Don’t you dare.”

Korra laughed and let herself fall; let herself be led.

Fixing the car - everything else not Asami in the moment - could wait.



Nicole Brenez, “We Support Everything Since the Dawn of Time that has Struggled and Still Struggles” Introduction to Lettrist Cinema (Sternberg Press 2015).

From Sternberg:

In October 1963 I met Gil J., and we schlepped to the scrap-metal market. […] It was there that I came up with the following definition of Lettrism:
Lettrism: 1) technical definition: smithy, arsenal, place where unused weapons are stored; 2) volcanology: rumbling that announces certain volcanic eruptions. Examples: 1) “Thanks to L., insurgent groups were armed” – 2) “The people of Herculaneum did not pay heed to L.” [Acad.]
—Jean-Louis Brau, 1972
The Lettrist movement is unique in the history of avant-garde formations. Founded by Isidore Isou in Paris immediately after World War II, it remains active to this day, having lost none of its radicalism, either aesthetic or ethical. In this book, Nicole Brenez presents the key figures and the basic concepts of Lettrist cinema, the art form within which their formal innovations proved the most far-reaching, prefiguring the breakthroughs of the nouvelle vague and the experiments of expanded cinema.

Courtesy Sternberg Press