Burning Low

I challenge you to try replacing junk food ( potato chips, popcorn, frys, candy, etc ) with these tasty snacks for an entire week!

I promise you will feel so much better and have so much more energy!

Do you accept this challenge? Tag friends and share your healthy snack ideas!

fanfiction.net
Berserk Chapter 16, a fairy tail fanfic | FanFiction
Berserk. Out of control with anger. This is what Natsu was born to be. A warrior soaked in blood. A murderer. This is what Pergrande turned him into. Taken at a young age by the King, Natsu is a soldier of the Royal Army, a creature of rage and violence—a weapon. Lucy is a thief from Fiore with a price on her head. Natsu is sent to kill her. When they meet it isn't pretty at all.

Natsu’s shoulder bumps against hers when he slides down beside her, armor making a low grinding sound as it scrapes against the rock behind them. She doesn’t look at him, just keeps staring across from where they sit, gaze locked on the solid rock before them. The wind howls as it whips by, ruffling Lucy’s hair. It catches on her lips, but she barely notices, expression blank as she stares and stares, heedless of the biting cold that’s surrounded them sometime during the night.

The fire flickers, beginning to burn low, and beside her, Natsu sighs. He glances sideways at her, expression softening as he sees her lost expression. He slides in a bit closer, until his thigh is pressed tight against hers and he has to slip an arm around her shoulders to hold himself steady beside her. She doesn’t acknowledge him, and Natsu whines lowly when she shivers, freezing and not knowing it.

He tucks her close against his side, the length of her torso pressed tight against his, his palm rubbing up and down her arm, friction helping to heat her chilled skin. Suddenly, she shivers against him, inhaling sharply and finally seeming to take notice of the cold. Lucy curls in on herself, bringing her knees close to her chest, free arm wrapping around them loosely. Her hands tremble violently, fingers shaking so badly he’s afraid they might just break off, one by one.

She surprises him by turning to face him slightly, angling herself towards him before dropping her head to rest against his collarbone. He hisses through his teeth, her ear so cold it burns as if presses to his warm skin. Natsu snarls at the cold, wishing he could chase it away from her, but it persists, creeping closer, heedless of Natsu’s warning.

I got the honor to participate in @jojofanzine (which is an awesome project btw thanks for having me!) a while back so I drew as many best girls as possible from Jojo which is hard bc all the girls are best girls.

7

We’re nearing the end, ladies & gentlemen! Fingers crossed that these two become endgame!!!

Humans and Fire

So I’ve read a few humans are weird posts and it got me thinking, what if humans are the only species to evolve to use fire. Like, most intelligent species will instinctively flee in panic the moment they catch sight of an open flame, yet show a human infant a fire and if they don’t know better, they will try to grab it.

Humans will burn everything. Most of us won’t eat anything unless it has been “Cooked” first. (A human word meaning to heat food until it has begun to denature but not yet started to carbonize.)

Start a small fire and instead of fleeing, humans will gather around it and start socializing.

We get intoxicated by setting specific plants on fire and inhaling the smoke, often with the burning embers mere inches from our sensitive face.

We use it to clear land for agriculture and hunting. We use it to punish criminals. We even use it for purely aesthetic purposes. (Think fireworks.)

Heck, we we discovered hydrocarbons, the first thing we did was burn them. In fact, humans were burning so much hydrocarbons they were literally altering the atmosphere of their planet.

Heck, humans have died because they literally did not have enough materials to burn.

Now imagine hostile aliens want to invade earth. They don’t use fire except for carefully controlled and heavily guarded industrial purposes. They also don’t know much about earth other than it is definitely inhabited and the people haven’t developed intergalactic travel.

They’re expecting to face primitive forces armed with the local equivalent of clubs and bows. What they get is, to them, a strange anachronistic jumble of expected primative technologies and highly advanced technologies that they definitely shouldn’t have.

They’re not expecting guns. (Projectile weapons that consist of a narrow tube with projectile and a chemical propellent stuffed into one end. Instead of an electromagnetic pulse, the propellant is ignited and the expanding gases shoot the projectile out of the tube.)

They’re not expecting powered vehicles. Instead of electric motors, humans have what they call the internal combustion engine. (A motor that works by sucking flammable gas into an enclosed chamber, igniting the gas under pressure, and using the resulting force from the detonation to move a piston. Because of that, humans have heavy machinery, self-propelled vehicles, and powered air-craft before they even really understood bio electricity.

They’re not expecting bombs, or incendiary weapons. (It was also how it was discovered that their bio-polymer armor, while excellent against projectiles, can actually burn at surprisingly low temperatures.

They’re not even expecting smelted metal. Steel to them is a high tech material that can only be produced under specialized conditions of extreme heat, and requires very specialized facilities to produce. They are shocked to discover that humans have been smelting copper before they developed writing.

And they are definitely not expecting nuclear weapons. (Which are basically “bombs” that instead of using combustable chemicals use an uncontrolled nuclear fission reaction. They are also aghast to discover that not only was this apparently the first thing we thought to do when we discovered fission, but that competing human faction have “how many of these weapons stockpiled!?”

After retreating in disgrace, the task force sent to monitor the plant is horrified to report that humans are rapidly expanding into space. They aren’t using gravitic lifters or electromagnetic mass drivers. They are apparently simply loading equipment and personnel into special “missiles” and using a shit ton of highly combustable fuel to simply launch themselves into space.

Are you interested in watching Adventure Time, but intimidated by the thought of watching 252 episodes? Have you watched the series before, but want to watch again without any filler episodes (unless it’s Bubbline, of course)? This is for you!

After seeing a request in the ATimers tag, I have compiled a list of all the Adventure Time episodes that contain major plot, important backstory, major characterization, and/or Bubbline moments. I have also included optional episodes that I think will increase your understanding/enjoyment of the show (I put the reason next to it; if it says something about being an arc, backstory, characterization, etc., be warned that not watching may make the major plot points of the show a bit more confusing for you). 

I condensed the show down to 128 of the 10-minute episodes (69 episodes if you don’t watch any of the optional episodes). Optional episodes are in italics. Episodes with Bubbline moments, characterization of Marcy/Princess Bubblegum (PB), or major backstory/plot related to Marcy/PB are in bold. Anything with a an asterisk (*) can be watched at any time (order doesn’t matter, though you may still want to watch it in the same season). 

I hope this helps someone out since I spent three hours putting it together! Without further ado… 

Keep reading

Burning Low

“You’re not going to believe me,” Yuuri insists.

“No piece of dog related information can be kept from me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri huffs, buries his face in Makkachin’s fur. They’re lying on Viktor’s bed, atop plush sheets, the hum of Euro pop soft in the background. Yuuri’s wearing ratty sweatpants and a T-shirt, dotted with the occasional curl of Makkachin’s hair. Viktor can’t look away. Their fingers are laced over the poodle’s plump belly, something that keeps happening, ever since the Cup of China. There are two periods in Viktor’s life: B.C., Before China, and after. Viktor loves the after.

“Vicchan was a stray,” Yuuri mumbles.

Viktor tries not to laugh. “Oh, love, I know there were posters in your room with my face on them– you can say you bought Vicchan.”

Viktor,” Yuuri whines, burying his face into Makkachin. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Okay, okay,” Viktor chuckles. “So Vicchan was a stray.” He wiggles over the top of Makkachin, presses a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.

“Yeah,” Yuuri breathes, soft. “When I found him and brought him back to the onsen, soaked in muddy puddle water and curls all matted, I thought he was some kind of gift from god. A poodle all my own. So I could be just like you.”

“Clearly, your parents agreed.” The brown eyes flicker up to him, twinkling.

“No,” Yuuri admits. “They told me Vicchan probably belonged to someone else. That we had to put up signs saying we’d found him.” He snorts gently through his nose. “…I sobbed for hours.” Makkachin snuffles, licks Yuuri’s cheek. “I plucked up Vicchan and locked myself in my room–my parents had to talk me down through the door. They told me they knew I loved Vicchan, but that maybe there was some other little boy out there missing him, loving him.”

“And you,” Viktor says, “my softhearted Yuuri, you were willing to give him back.”

Yuuri presses his lips together. Amused. “No,” he contradicts again, quietly. “That didn’t work. After all, who could love Vicchan more than me? I refused to put up the Found Dog signs up because of that.” There’s a pause, and Viktor fills in the gap. Until. “Then, they told me that Vicchan could be missing the place where he belonged.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor says. Maybe they shouldn’t discuss Yuuri’s dog– sometimes when he looks at Makkachin, the cinnamon eyes still glaze over.

“How could I take Vicchan away from what he loved? So we put up signs,” Yuuri finishes, smile small. “I was ready to give him up. Ready, even if it broke my heart.” Their fingers tighten across Makkachin’s belly, and it’s natural to lean forward and kiss him, all ruffled hair and round cheeks, gentle eyes. Viktor’s Yuuri. Viktor’s everything.

“Let’s end this,” Yuuri says, in Barcelona. The man who is his everything, and he wants to end it.

You don’t have to break your heart, Viktor thinks. Oh, you don’t have to break your heart