consume the electricity

American Gods: a proposal

Maybe the old and new gods could just settle their differences in a Eurovision style competition.

Technical Boy: plays his vape thing like a kazoo; it is on fire
Media: David Bowie outfit and surrounded by TVs that are on fire
Mr. Wednesday: sings old Viking songs while ravens play drums that are on fire
Bilquis: consumes an electric guitar with her vagina; the guitar is NOT on fire because ow
Shadow: mostly stands around looking baffled and flexes his muscles periodically; his undershirt is on fire 

Originally posted by princephilipplahm

BMC Superpower AU

Okay so,, I’ve been thinking about this AU for a long time now and I’ve seen a lot of people make variations of it, but more with powers within other existing canons and I just kinda had my own ideas for something! And in honor of reaching a thousand followers (which is still?? Mind blowing) I wanted to share a bit about it!

So:
- The Squip used to be an actual person, but he abused his power (electricity manipulation) until the electricity consumed him and he became just an electrical entity
- He used Jeremy sometimes as a way to interact with the physical world since!! Jeremy also has electricity manipulation! Making him an easy conductor
- Jeremy hates his power because he got it from his mother
- (You either get one strong power from one parent or both powers, but on a weaker level. Though, you can always train your powers to work better.)
- Rich has fire manipulation powers, but he’s not all that good with it
- He has trouble in trying to make it so that the fire doesn’t hurt him once it’s been set.
- He tests it every so often and sometimes it works, but it doesn’t a lot of the time so he has several small burns from it
- Michael got powers from both parents!
- He has flight from his mom and plant manipulation from his dad
- He never works on flying so he can only really levitate, but he constantly uses his plant powers
- Coughs to grow weed coughs
- He can also kinda feel how plants are feeling in a way that he doesn’t know how to describe, so everyone calls him the Lorax
- “This is Michael he speaks for the trees” “the trees say fuck off”
- Jake is another two-er! He has hypnosis from his mom and duplication from his dad
- His parents are super villains so he doesn’t like using his powers much
- Though he does use duplication the most so he can be at more than one extra curricular at a time if need be
- Maybe uses hypnosis to get an assignment or two accepted that he’s turning in late, but that’s about it since that’s the power he’s scared the most of using
- Jenna the esper!
- She Knows All (well not really)
- She has a very good sense of what people are feeling to the point where it sometimes feels like she’s reading your mind
- She also sometimes has future visions, but it’s 50/50 on whether it’s a real prediction
- “You shouldn’t sit there. Michael’s gonna trip around that area and spill his drink.” “Haha okay sure Jenna.”
- “MICHAEL WHAT THE HELL” “*from across the room* WHAT DID I JUST SAY”
- Christine can shapeshift!
- She 100% uses this for theatre because she can also just change features about herself
- (But it takes energy to hold different forms so she doesn’t do it for too long)
- Rich and Jake sometimes get her to turn into animals where that animal Shouldn’t be
- She only goes through with it because she likes how it makes them laugh
- “Mr. Reyes? Why is there a zebra backstage?” “CHRISTINE”
- Brooke can manipulate water!
- She uses it a lot when it rains to keep the water off her and Chloe
- Whenever she’s stressed out or feeling down playing with the water always helps her calm down or bring up her mood
- She makes pretty sculptures with water sometimes and freezes them
- Everyone wishes they could last longer, but they gotta melt sometime
- Chloe can communicate with and control bugs which completely grossed her out when she was little, but she finds it super effective now
- No one really… knows her power. She keeps it to herself and just uses it to her advantage
- She never gets mosquito bites or bee stings and neither does Brooke
- If someone is annoying her, she just sends critters their way
- She’s come to actually like bugs now
- (This is 100% because of Katlyn Carlson’s instagram stories because the spider snaps make me laugh every time)

I hope to end up writing a big thing for it but!! That’ll be after I finish up a few more requests and after I plan some more of it out (I’ve only got the plans for the first two chapters so far alfkekd). If you find these ideas interesting, feel free to express that! Or if you have idea of your own please let me know! I wanna see what else could be incorporated in this universe. :0 !

Comparison Germany - Canada

If Germany were your home instead of Canada you would…

- use 58.11% less electricity
- consume 53.36% less oil
- have 22.09% more free time
- have 20.84% less chance of dying in infancy
- have 20.14% less babies
- experience 15.89% less of a class divide
- make 11.2% less money
- die 1.88 years sooner
- be 75% less likely to have HIV/AIDS
- have 3.53% more chance at being employed
- spend 5.66% less money on health care

POKEMON SUN AND MOON SPECULATION TIME!

I think the Ultra Beasts are based on the Seven Deadly Sins.

Let’s look at he evidence. The Ultra Beasts are described as being a threat to humans and Pokémon alike. They have unusual designs, more alien like than regular Pokémon. They seem to be able to control people in certain ways. And of course, there are seven of them (technically eight, but we’ll get to that). Here is my theory as to which sin each Ultra Beast represents.

Nihilego: Envy - Nihilego is described as imitating human behavior. Perhaps it is envious of humans, similar to how Mimikyu is envious of Pikachu. Thus, it pretends to be something it’s not.

Buzzwole: Pride - Buzzwole acts a lot like bodybuilders showing off their muscles. It clearly has a strong ego.

Pheromosa: Lust - This one should be pretty obvious. Pheromosa has an elegant design and can supposedly infatuate anybody.

Xurkitree: Greed - Because Xurkitree is an Electric type, it obviously consumes electrical energy. Perhaps goes around stealing energy and refusing to share.

Celesteela: Wrath - I heard rumors that within the game’s lore, Celesteela has the power to burn down entire forests.

Kartana: Sloth - Kartana’s body is described as being so sharp that it doesn’t have to do much to attack.

Guzzlord: Gluttony - Again, pretty obvious. Guzzlord’s body is 90 percent mouth. Of course it eats a lot!

That just leaves Necrozma, who is apparently the odd one out. It has a different ability than the other Ultra Beasts, and it seems to have little connection with them. Perhaps Necrozma is supposed to represent the original sin of Adam and Eve, or the sin of despair, which is considered number eight in certain circles of Christianity. Maybe Necrozma is the Pokémon world’s equivalent of Satan. Sure, Giratina kind of fits the bill too, but Pokémon has recycled ideas before.

Maybe that means that Silvally is somehow tied to the Ultra Beasts too. Silvally has many similarities with Arceus, and it requires a strong bond with its trainer to evolve, so maybe Silvally is some type of Jesus allegory. Maybe an upcoming Pokémon movie will feature Silvally sacrificing its life to defeat the Ultra Beasts, only to be resurrected at the end.

I know that the Seven Deadly Sins seems like a pretty dark topic to cover in a Pokémon game, but the series has certainly become more complex and adult since Red and Blue. And religious themes have been explored in the series before - Arceus is pretty much God after all. So maybe the Ultra Beasts are the personifications of humanity’s darkest desires come to wreak havoc on the mortal world and tempt us into following a path toward eternal damnation.

Or maybe they’re just aliens. Either way, they’re pretty damn cool.

UPDATE: I have been informed that Necrozma is not actually an Ultra Beast, but rather the third Legendary of the Sun/Moon trio along with Solgaleo and Lunala. However, the Pokédex mentions that it is “reminiscent” of the Ultra Beasts, so I think it may be somehow connected to them as well. It’s also described as sleeping underground and absorbing light, so my theory that it is some kind of devil-like figure still stands. As of writing this, I have not yet played the games, so I may be wrong.

ANOTHER UPDATE: Now that I think about it, I may have gotten wrath and sloth backwards. Kartana (wrath) is definitely sporadic in its battle animations, while Celesteela (sloth) doesn’t move much at all. This is also reflected in their stats - Kartana has incredible attack, whereas Celesteela has pretty low speed (though Guzzlord’s is lower, I’m 1000% sure Guzzlord is gluttony).

“Stop Trying” Theo Raeken

I watch as Theo attacks Josh, pushing him down and laying his full weight on him as the electricity consumes them both, but only Josh being harmed. Theo’s nails dig into Josh’s stomach and I watch his body seize. Then, his body goes limp and the shocks stop.
Theo stands from his dead body and turns around, his eyes glowing and claws protruding. I feel myself shake with fear and tears flow out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I never knew Josh, but no one deserves that.
I walk backwards away from Theo. My hands shake, but I try to remain strong and clench them into tight fists. Theo’s eyes return to their normal state and his claws disappear. Neither of us speaks a word. I can tell Theo regrets me seeing this, but I doubt he doing regrets doing it. I inhale deeply through my mouth and turn to leave.
As fast as lightning, Theo is by my side preventing me from doing so. “Let me go!” I yell at him, but he doesn’t budge. I try to rip my arm from his firm grasp but fail miserably. “Y/N,” he sighs. I try to grab onto my composure before it leaves. I stare past him at Josh’s body. He is a person just like me… With friends and parents. And now he’s dead.
“Why did you do that? He didn’t deserve to die!” I cry. “Really? You didn’t even know him!” Theo yells. “I know that he didn’t serve that! God!!” Theo lets go of my arm and I turn away from him. I’m hiccuping with tears at this point. Tears of being afraid of Theo, sad for Josh, and afraid that I couldn’t forgive Theo for what he’s done.
“What?!” He yells after a moment of silence. His eyes are wild as they stare into mine, unblinking. “You know what you signed up for in being with me, Y/N, don’t back out now!” I’ve only seen him act this crazy a handful of times. He takes slow steps towards me and I can feel my heart rate accelerating.
My trembling voice comes out of nowhere, “I know that-“ “Do you?!” He yells. “Do you really? Because a part of me knows that you’re just trying to turn me into the perfect boyfriend and the perfect monster you want me to be! So what if I’m a killer, Y/N?! It’s who I am! LEARN TO ACCEPT THAT, AND STOP TRYING TO CHANGE ME!!” He bellows. “If you want someone different, go call up Stiles.”
Then he storms out of the room, leaving me alone with Josh’s lifeless body. I can feel the sobs rack my body and the tears burning my face. Was I with Theo just to change him? I didn’t think I was. I walk over to Josh and stand over his body whispering silently. “I’m sorry.” Before leaving also.

Zutara week Entry: Day One: Fire Lady

The morning of the wedding is one of the most beautiful Katara has ever seen.

Warm golden sun rays stream through the windows of her chambers, past the drapes that clothed them, heavy, a deep scarlet. The sun beams bounce off the walls, also red, soaking her room in a delicious, almost other worldly, incandescent glow. Beyond the heavy hues of the bedroom walls, she can hear the hustle and bustle of movement: the voices of servants, many of whom she’s come to know by name, hushed but hurried, the dull thump-thump, thump-thump, of frenzied footsteps and the sharp ringing of bells piercing the lazy morning air. The tell-tale sign of a nobleman or foreign dignitary in need of a servant’s assistance. In the several months that she’d been residing in the Fire Nation, Katara had almost gotten used to the sound: a crisp tinkling that went off at hourly intervals. It was perhaps one of the most outstanding features of the fire palace’s west wing, which traditionally housed a select few fire nation court nobles and more recently, the occasional international diplomat and personal guests of the Fire Lord himself.

And future fire ladies apparently, Katara reminds herself, an overwhelming and unnameable emotion suddenly coursing through her. She stands up, suddenly desperate and determined to take a stroll.  

The scene that greets her outside the room is everything she expected it to be, and yet she is every bit taken off guard by the sheer number of people running around the once nearly desolate hallways. People of all different backgrounds, although if she’s being more accurate, they are mostly from the fire nation and earth kingdom, clad in long, flowy emerald coloured robes and ruby red garments, pepper her vision. She hears the splash of liquid spray onto her attire before she feels it, at almost the same time she sees the young man carrying the now empty pitcher squeak like a cornered gerbil-mouse, his whole face blanching as he stutters out a panicked, barely coherent, apology.

“Master Katara…Ambassador…My Lady…” Each title is punctuated by the boy’s frantic genuflecting, and Katara immediately puts a stop to it with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“That’s quite all right, no need for all that, see…” she makes the slightest of gestures, the flick of a single wrist, really, and her drenched sapphire robes and dark hair are completely dry, the water re-occupying its rightful place in the pitcher once again. “There, no harm done…um”

“Jiro.” He supplies looking monumentally grateful and smiling shyly.

“Jiro.” She grins back, “Although, you might want to change that water.” She suggests kindly.

He nods enthusiastically and rushes off with a moderately loud, “Yes, my Lady. Excuse me, my Lady. Thank you, my Lady.”

And Katara resists the urge to cringe, I don’t think I could ever get used to that, she thinks. Just as she’s forced herself to think for the past few weeks…

Her feet propel her forward on her stroll of their own accord.  

On her aimless walk, she gazes out of the seemingly never ending rows of windows that line the corridors, stopping briefly to admire the view. The sky is a relentless blue, cloudless, the air cool and refreshing; a welcome reprieve from the infamous fire nation heat and humidity. It’s almost as if the weather itself was joining them in jubilation, a gift from even the spirits themselves to commemorate this historic, unprecedented union of cultures and nations; a triumph of love and forgiveness over hatred and war.

Subconsciously, Katara’s gaze leaves the manicured hedges of the central courtyard and lingers some distance beyond, attaching itself to the fire lord’s private gardens.

The waterbender smiles to herself, remembering late afternoon discussions about inconsequential things by the turtle-duck pond, watching the sunset by the fire-lily beds, sitting in comfortable silences, simply enjoying one another’s company; and, after dark, having bending battles to let off some steam. She grins smugly, the memory of vermillion flames flashing across her vision, the crackling of ozone as static burst around her, the feeling of being indescribably lost in her element, the flow of water, the flow of power thrumming through her veins. All the pressure and stress of politics and dealing with the minutia of their daily routines vaporising in the air between them, wafts of steam created by the clashing of their elements.

They never hold back. Not with each other.  

Katara gulps, blue eyes darting to the highest window of the east wing. The fire lord’s chambers. Images of their other, more… clandestine, more incandescent, rendezvous flash behind her eyelids unbidden. Memories of warm hands on her cool skin, of rough, marred skin beneath her fingertips, of soft lips: an impossible all-consuming heat, the taste of electricity…

She blinks, hard, and continues walking.

Finally, she stops, her legs stiff and trembling, like she’s been on a long journey, a trek on foot. Her brain catching up with her eyes at the sight of her destination. The young woman almost laughs. Of course, she thinks, the voice in her head an exasperated drawl, despite the thunderous pounding of her heart in her chest.

She enters the small space with only the slightest trepidation but immediately relaxes when her suspicions are confirmed.

She can’t help the fond smile that spreads across her face. In his five years of rule and reign, some, the hopeful and optimistic, have described him as the greatest fire lord to grace the country in a century. Others, his most vocal opponents, whom, despite the greatest of efforts, still carry lingering resentment at how they were denied their ‘glorious victory’ at the end of Sozin’s hundred year war, have called him a traitor, a treasonous failure unworthy of the title of Agni’s scion and the dragon throne.

But right now, in this tiny, storage closet hidden from view, he’s a grown man struggling to wear his pants. And Katara thinks she likes him best this way. He grunts in frustration under his breath, looking like he wouldn’t hesitate to incinerate every item of clothing on his person in righteous retribution. She clears her throat attracting his attention. He swears, a string of rather un-regal profanities leaving his lips as he whirls around in surprise. His whole body visibly relaxes once he sees that it’s her.

“Katara,” The unconcealed, unabashed joy in his voice makes her heart clutch. “What are you doing?”

“I think that’s my line, Zuko.” She says with a teasing, playfulness she doesn’t quite feel.  

He immediately looks at a point somewhere beyond her shoulder, like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, while his fair skin, suddenly turns scarlet at the cheeks and she absently notes how he matches the rest of his attire now.

“Right, well,” He makes a vague gesture towards his clothing, a conglomeration of dark reds and bright yellows, of fabrics and metals. She would say he looks powerful, majestic even, if it hadn’t been for the complete state of disarray that his raven locks currently remained in, and the ridiculous angle his topknot rested in, loose and deflated, like it had been drained of all life and simply wanted to fade into oblivion. “I didn’t care much for the tailor’s ‘last minute additions’”, he jabs his thumb at his metal clad chest, ah, the armour “I just felt it wasn’t necessary…with the occasion and all that.” He says the word ‘occasion’, delicately, experimentally, as if she might spontaneously combust if he were to even utter the word wedding.

“Right, of course. Fire nation armour at the wedding of the century, plus foreign politicians making up a huge chunk of the guest list does not equal a good idea.” She hopes her tone is free of any inflections of bitterness, when she says the phrase ‘wedding of the century’. If the fire lord notices anything, he doesn’t say it.

“Math humour,” He chuckles, the sound a siren call. “You’ve been hanging around your brother too much.”

She shrugs, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “So what exactly is the problem?”

“I-can’t-seem-to-get-it-off.” The sentence is one short, tumbled rush.

“What?” She laughs softly. Incredulous.

“You heard me.” He mumbles, seemingly irritated, but clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I did. I just can’t believe it. Actually, yes I can.”

She closes the door behind her, ignoring the alarm bells going off in her mind.

“Turn around,” She mock sighs. “Let’s see what we can do.”

He grumbles yet again but obediently does as she requested. After a few minutes of teasing banter on both ends, a tug here and a pull here, the offending armour is down away with. And Katara’s hands find themselves in Zuko’s hair, repairing the damage his previous attempts at armour removal had left behind. She fights to keep her breathing steady and calm her traitorous pounding heart. It’s just hair, her voice growls within her mind. But her senses rebel and attack her with memories of the two of them in a similar situation, in this same room, actually, which they had often used for private…err… ‘discussions’, with her hands lost in his silky locks for very different reasons, then his hands in her hair, tugging at fistfuls to expose her neck to his mouth, hot and hungry and…and…

“Okay, all done.” She suddenly exclaims. Cracking the peaceful silence like a komodo-rhino egg.

“Thank you.” He says.

She’s about to respond when she realises how, at some point during her fixing of his hair, she wound up facing him yet again. They stand now, face to face, tantalisingly close in the limited space surrounding them. Zuko’s looking at her. Really looking at her. His golden gaze takes in her appearance, her traditional water tribe robes, delicate blues, and furs, white. Her hair, wild brown curls, barely tamed by braids and blue beads. Then, finally, amber eyes meet blue. She wonders what he’s thinking. She doesn’t have to wait long for an answer though.

“You look so…” He sounds awestruck, clearly struggling to put it into words, “Nice.”

“Whoa, ‘nice’? Let’s not go overboard with the praise, there.” But she’s blushing in spite of her teasing. “Thank you, Zuko. I think you look really nice t—”

“Are you okay?” He seems to blurt out. Katara has no doubt that if he could glare at his own mouth, he would.

The question hangs in the air for a beat too long. She knows what he means of course, when two people know each other inside and out the way they do, there’s no room for ambiguity. She contemplates lying, shrugging off his question and forcing a comforting smile onto her visage. But then she remembers who she’s talking to.

They never hold back. Not with each other.  

“You’re marrying someone else, Zuko.” She says. Her words are ice cold, meant to cut deep and visceral. Her ire isn’t necessarily directed at him, well, not completely. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel upset with him. Part of anger may even have been directed at fate or destiny or whatever was in charge of throwing obstacle after never ending obstacle, between herself and the one person in this life who made her feel so…complete. However most of it was at herself. She had been reckless, allowed herself to be vulnerable, spilled out all that she was, and wanted to be, into his waiting arms and did the same for him. And she thought, what? That loving him was going to be enough to fill in the gaps, nay, the chasms that stood between them and reality. Well, it wasn’t, she thinks bitterly. “How can I possibly be okay?”

He nods. He understands her disappointment and pain and frustration. Of course he does.

“I’m so sorry. I wish things could’ve been different.” There’s a pause. He seems to be choking back some kind of emotion. But in the limited lighting she isn’t too sure.  “But I want you to know that I don’t regret any of it. These past few months with you have been…” he pauses searching yet again for the right words, twirling his wrist around as if the simple act could conjure them out of thin air.

She doesn’t know exactly when it started. She can remember every detail and day of their first kiss and many other gradual intimacies they shared over time. But her feelings for Zuko, their feelings for each other, are another matter entirely. Perhaps they began to make themselves known after he and Mai broke up for the last time, a final clean break, an understanding that they had different goals in life. Zuko wanted to usher in a new era of peace into the world through his regency, and Mai couldn’t stand the politics of it all. “It just wasn’t her.” He’d told her one evening by the pond, after he had detailed how he and Mai had dissected their relationship, exposing the ugliness beneath it all, and ultimately deciding to go their separate ways. Last Katara had heard, Mai was being initiated into the order of the white lotus, as part of the first wave of the secret organisations first female members.

Zuko had poured himself into his work after their break up, trying to fill his former lover’s now empty space with knowledge and possibility. Katara, equally as eager to secure her position as the water tribe’s emissary to the fire nation, did likewise. Soon comparing notes, sharing studying techniques and anecdotes about their day turned into something more. But now, on the precipice of losing that something, Katara can’t help but wonder if there was possibly more even before that.

She stops him. Zuko was never particularly exceptional at talking about or even out right displaying his romantic feelings. So she spares him. One last time.

“Zuko. I may not be okay right now, and I probably won’t be for some time. But I will be.” She steels herself, not wanting to say the next words but knowing she has to. “She’s a good person, Zuko. The people love her.” The words ‘and I’m sure you will too’ remain unspoken. The next words feel like shards of ice on her tongue, but she manages to say them anyway.

“She’ll make a great fire lady.”

“And you’ll make an incredible fire lord, Zuko. I believe in you.” And she means it. She really does. She can honestly say she’s never met anyone who has his determination and drive and who only wants redemption, peace and prosperity for his nation. And for the world. The world couldn’t have asked for a better fire lord. She does know however, that he isn’t perfect. His recurring moments of self-doubt and blind devotion to his people’s redemption being examples. But she’s come to care about him even with his flaws. Just as he does with hers.  

At those last four words something flashes in Zuko’s eyes.

“And you’ll be okay too Katara. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. You helped your father and brother to rebuild the Southern Water Tribe, taught waterbending as a world renowned master and left your home to come here and represent them. You’re amazing. And being with you was amazing.”

“Zuko…” Katara breathes not sure how to respond to his praise. The irony of their role reversal is not lost on her.

“No, Katara. I need to say this and you need to hear this.” His tone is firm but his smile is gentle, if a little pained. “I love you.”

The waterbending master is speechless. Which, she is aware, isn’t the best time to be so. It’s not as if Zuko hasn’t told her so before. He has. Though his declarations were few and far between initially. There’s just something about him saying it now, the finality of it all. And for the first time in what feels like a long time, Katara is suddenly very aware that she is in a closed, dimly lit room with a soon-to-be-married man.

And she is struck by the very real, very sudden urge to kiss him with everything that she is. To leave her mark on his heart. To ensure that he’ll never forget their time together. Never forget her.

But her face has been made up with all sorts of heavy and expensive paints and powders. And she already knows his heart just as he knows hers. And she knows he will never forget her.

So she reaches for him instead, her hand a gentle touch across the marred skin of his scar, along his jaw, down the lines of his neck, before he draws her to him. They stay like that for some time. Foreheads touching, the sound of their joint breathing the only sound. Until finally she pulls away with a strangled, barely audible, “I love you too.”

It is enough.

It has to be.

Her name is Himiko.

A young woman born to a middle class family in the fire nation who migrated to the colonies in the earth kingdom when she was merely an infant. She like a few others of fire nation citizenship, were of airbender descent and had dormant airbending genes within them. She proved to be an excellent student under Aang’s tutelage, one of the best, actually. A master airbender born into the fire nation, who spent all her life living amongst the people of the Earth Kingdom. One couldn’t imagine a better candidate for the role of a queen consort, who is to rule by the side of a progressive monarch in a post-war economy and atmosphere, if they tried. The fire nation nobles, who would’ve greatly preferred someone of a ‘higher station’ begrudgingly support the union. The Earth Kingdom aristocracy has mixed feelings about a ‘product of fire nation imperialism with knowledge of the their land’ on the throne of their former century long enemy and the newly formed air nomad council of elders is not completely on board with the arrangement either, as it doesn’t really keep in with their slowly reviving traditions, as marriage isn’t an institution recognised by airnomad customs. But the message of their marriage is one that’s so profound, no one can really stand against the poetry of it all: the fire nation nearly wiped out the entire airbending race, if these two people could find love, unite their two peoples, and rule together towards a better world, then the world really is a changed place. A place where anything could be possible…

Katara smiles. She smiles at her friends and takes the time to interact with every single one of them. Suki wants to know if she’s okay, Sokka and her father tell her it’s okay if she ever wants to come home, Toph probably can tell she’s lying but to her credit doesn’t say so. Aang seems to blame himself somehow for how things turned out. She is his student, and one of his people. He wishes he could do something, says he should have fought against it harder. And for second she is reminded of when they were children, and how he had had a crush on her, long gone now, it was a simpler time, she thinks. She smiles at him. At all of them. She dances and drinks, moderately, and claps at the end of every speech.

Until even she almost believes it’s genuine.

She even gives her congratulations to the fire lord and his lovely, new bride.

 @zutaraweek

anonymous asked:

Knock Out, Being you are a doctor you may have some kind of idea as to how Predacons can burn Cybertronians so badly. Their breath has to be pretty hot to do so I would imagine. Can you explain how they do this?

uhhg…  First of all why on earth are you so interested in those ghastly beasts… but very well…

From what I have observed Predacons breath is not meant to burn or melt a Cybertronians frame away like some incendiary devices might… because the disgusting beasts would prefer to consume their kill… but rather to cause overheating and sluggishness in their victims to make them easier prey. In short they cook a Cybertronian to weaken our defenses. One of the number one cause of death is often damage to ones coolant systems. If a cybertronian cant manage body temperature they risk processor damage among a host of other ailments. 

From examining burns and scorch marks on Starscreams body I was able to determine the type of chemical reactions taking place and I have come to the conclusion that Predacons utilize a pure form of liquid oxygen to enhance their fire breath. 

Now you may ask “But Cybertron does not have an oxygenated atmosphere like earth?” Ahh But you see Cybertron does in fact have plentiful oxygen readily available if you can extract it. I theorize that Predacons must have internal acids not only to process and break down their eck~ consumed kills… but also electrical organs that can free oxygen from the metals and rust of our wold. 

It’s certainly specialized and the process I wager is unique to the Predacons biology but the chemistry is not uncommon. Cybertronians intake gasses and materials often for the production of key elements within our bodies. Such as hydrogen and nitrogen which are utilized internally in the manufacturing of ammonia that we use within our coolant systems.

The same coolant systems that Predaking wreaked havoc on Starscream when he cooked him half to death!! 


 

Here’s the follow up to the Jersey Girl drabble I wrote a while back. You don’t necessarily need to read that to understand this. Some of it is under the cut cause it’s slightly NSFW. Enjoy!


It was hushed talking and quiet giggles as they rushed up the stairs. Briefcases, shoes, and socks left on the stairs. It all felt so juvenile but thrilling. Both of their hearts beating fast, blood rushing to places it hadn’t been in ages, eons ago it felt like. They weren’t doing anything wrong but it felt like they’d get caught and immediately be grounded by their mums. Two grown men in their twenties, both fathers before they were ready, taking pleasure in childish things. 

“Bedroom,” Zayn panted into Liam’s parted mouth. He was hopping on one foot, still trying to pry off his sock. 

“S-shower,” Liam stuttered, undoing the buttons to his suit jacket. Out of all the days he decided to wear a three piece suit was the day he played hooky to have a quickie with his boyfriend. Such an amateur Payne, really. 

Zayn raised his eyebrows and smirked at Liam’s suggestion. It wasn’t a bad one, the bathroom was closer than the bedroom after all. He pushed Liam up against the closed door and kissed him once more, helping undo all the god forsaken buttons on the suit jackets. “Too many layers.”

“I know,” Liam groaned, pushing his hips forward, trying to get any contact with Zayn’s lower half. He felt like his skin was on fire, his neck and jaw burning with the sensation of Zayn’s beard being nuzzled up against his skin.

“B-babe,” he whined at the friction. It was all-consuming, the electricity he felt in the pit on his stomach, the way his heart felt like it was going to beat out his chest. Also the calm he felt, how being around Liam made him calm in ways he hadn’t felt since Nasir was born. Crap, don’t think about your kid at this exact moment Malik, come on.  “Shower, now!”

Liam giggled at Zayn’s order, twisting his body away from the door to turn the handle, even though someone was being very distracting by kissing the back of his neck and biting at his earlobe. “Let me open the door, Z.”

The bathroom door was finally opened without further incident, thankfully. Hushed talking and quiet giggles quickly escalated into deep groans and gasps. Liam finally had his suit jacket off, now undoing his belt as Zayn peeled off his cashmere sweater, placing it carefully on the closed toilet lid. He may be in the middle of the heat of passion but he also knew he wasn’t going to ruin a perfectly good and expensive item of clothing. Belts were being undone and ripped off, metal clasps clanking on the tiled floor. Every single touch had been above clothing, like they were kids again, but it still made both their heads foggy and dizzy with desire, need. Jeans and suit pants were being pushed to the floor, eager men hopping out of them, mouths attached to each other, panting into each other.

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On the feasibility of everyone on earth living like an amerikan (as some FALC advocates suggest is possible)-

amerikans alone consume over 163 times the amount of gasoline than Indians,  produce 16 times the CO2 emissions, and 4-20 times the amount of municipal solid waste. They consume 31 times the electricity consumed by Indians, consume enough excess calories to provide 80 million people with a 2000 calorie a day diet, and consume over 6 times as much water per day than over 50% of the global population.

Roughly 56% of corn and 95% of oats grown in the u$ is fed to livestock, and the grain used to feed u$ livestock could sustain over 800 million people. It requires over 200 times as much water to produce a pound of beef than it does to produce a pound of wheat, and 56% of the available farmland in the u$ is used for beef production alone. Globally, 1/3rd of all arable land is used to provide grain for livestock, beef especially, while grazing land takes up ¼th of all land on earth.

One third of global grain production goes to feeding livestock, which is overwhelmingly used to feed first worlders, despite the grain itself providing more calories at a far far far lower cost. The beef an average amerikan consumes per year (64 pounds) requires over 330,000 gallons of water to produce. This is enough water to sustain the basic hydration and hygiene needs of around 165 people in that same year period.

If the entire global population consumed as many tons of natural resources as the average amerikan, production of those resources would need to increase by 500% despite the extraction of many natural resources vital to sustaining the amerikan living standard already being close to maximum possible extraction. Over 60% of the worlds resources are consumed by the 12% that live in the european countries (settler states included), the world simply cannot sustain a tenfold increase of resource consumption as advocates of FALC suggest is possible. To claim that technology will simply resolve this issue is incredibly naive, shortsighted, and relies on a complete lack of understanding of the advocated technologies and current capabilities, along with the heavy use of theoretical technologies that may not be economically sustainable or even possible in the first place.

Drowning In Him // Himchan

Request: Can you pls write a himchan drabble/one shot about a night when him and his gf cuddle /make out and she has a pretty rough time but himchan is sweet and greasy? Ty soooo much, love and kisses!!!!!!

Author’s Note: I know you asked for a drabble/one shot, but once I got into it, I couldn’t make it short. I’m sorry! I hope you still like it anon!

Word Count: 2,132

Rating: Fluff and really light Smut

Scenario: Himchan x Reader

“There’sthis spot on that hill over there that has the best view of the sunset over thecity. We have to end the date watching it. It’d be perfect, don’t you think?”

Himchan was staring up at the sky talking before gently rolling his face to the side to exchange glances with you. Walking hand and hand through the nearby park, it seemed like a perfect end to your date. The whole idea of having a boyfriend was still fresh in your mind and even though you and Himchan had been in a serious relationship for almost a year, he was putting all his efforts into making you as comfortable as possible while you were with him. Not being one that showed affection easily, Himchan never forced love from you too much, especially in public, but the past few hours leading into the evening seemed different than they usually did. He was constantly reaching for your hand to lace his fingers with yours and grabbing your waist to pull you closer. It was like he was signaling to everyone that, “This girl is mine.” It felt like a declaration of love and for some reason, these small gestures weren’t bothering you at all.

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4

Blowing Up Batteries To Make Them Safer

This is what it looks like the moment a lithium-ion battery explodes after overheating. Fortunately, these catastrophic failures are exceedingly rare and result from an event called a thermal runaway. 

This phenomenon happens when a battery undergoes mechanical or electrical trauma, or when it is exposed to an external heat source. In the worst-case scenario, this abuse starts the battery on the path of failure, when the reactions occurring inside start an energy-releasing breakdown and heat generation exceeds the battery’s ability to harmlessly dissipate it. 

Because modern societies are becoming increasingly electricity hungry, rechargeable lithium-ion batteries are finding use in more and more applications, from automobiles to airplanes and personal electronics. That’s why researchers around the world are studying the basics of what goes on in the power sources and how to make them safer. Learn more and see a video below.

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Golden Dress

Gillovny RPF

Characters : Gillian Anderson / David Duchovny

Rated : Hot ! NSFW

Post Golden Globes last week.


The party is over, and she’s exhausted. Now, she recalls exactly why she left L.A fifteen years ago. People are crazy, here. The lifestyle doesn’t fit her needs anymore, and even if she enjoys wearing a nice dress and posing for the photographers once in a while, she would give everything for a sweet pajama, and a hot cup of tea. This city could bring the best and the worse of a person, and for a long time, back then, it had brought the worse of her. Of them. But now, things are different. They had grown up, matured, such as their feelings for each other. Their relationship used to be like a roller-coaster of emotions, from mutual respect to contempt, from lust to disregard, from hate to love, but always with this je ne sais quoi, electric, consuming and palpable strength between them. One call it “chemistry”, they prefer the word “kismet”. It wasn’t easy, and it still isn’t, but they learned to appreciate each other, to deal with their failures, and now they came to a point where supporting each other is a second nature. He is the only man she had ever managed to keep in her life, and deep down, she knows there will be no one else. A couple years ago, after his divorce, he told her he was ready to move forward with her. It took her almost a year to accept the idea of really being with him, and finally, their relationship crossed a new boundary, and they are still trying to find the way to function together. Express his feelings had never been easy for him, so when he told her the three words, she knew there was no going back.  

Walking towards her big black SUV, she hesitates between her hotel room, and his house. It’s late, but according to the text messages he had sent her during the night, he’s not asleep, and he wants to see her. It wouldn’t be cautious, she could be followed by paparazzi, or the driver could be too talkative. On the other hand, she has her morning free, and most of all, she misses him.

“Carbon Canyon Road in Malibu, please.” She shouts to the driver, who raises an eyebrow in the rear mirror.

The villa is not as huge as the one he used to have with his wife, five blocks away. It’s less flashy, more humble and quiet, just like him. She’s always nervous when she’s about to meet him for the first time after a long period of absence, and her hand is shaking when she rings at his door.

“There she is!” He exclaims, opening his arms with a wide welcoming smile on his face, which makes her nervousness vanish in a heartbeat. “How are you doing, L.A girl?”

She leans towards him to accept his bear hug, and wraps herself in his warmth, allowing herself to take a deep breath of his scent. Recently, she’d acknowledged the fact that what she misses the most when he’s not with her, is his scent. He always smells good, like woody fragrance with his very own musky smell. Every time after they have to split up, she sleeps in one of his dirty shirt like a teenage girl, until her own perspiration scent covers his.

Instead of answering his question, she leans upward to kiss him, running her hands in his too short hair, pushing him back inside the house, and kicking the door behind her, which makes him chuckle in her mouth.

“Did someone miss me?” He jokes, breaking the kiss for air. She nods, smiling at him, and takes off her black leather coat, revealing the gold dress she wore at the Golden Globes party. “Wow! I wanted to offer you a drink, but I’m the thirsty one now. You’re stunning, babe!” His eyes can’t look anywhere else but inside her cleavage.

“You like it?” she teases. “You get the joke?”

“I don’t see any joke in there, babe. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, C’mon! I feel like no one got it.” She pouts. “It was the Golden Globes. My dress is gold, and the globes are… out.” She explains, cupping her own breast. “Got it now?”

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mmm i had pretty disorienting species dysphoria last night, or early morning i guess.

from what i can recollect my mind was consumed with an electric reverberation, something like a stagnant voltage with a magnetic frequency. nothing requiring power was turned on in my immediate vicinity though, i believe it now to be an external force. divine. exalted. my sense of smell was heightened but the air was thick with the distinct scent of rust. my mouth suddenly had an unsettling bitter taste to it as if the acidic level had been eradicated completely. i kept tonguing my teeth as an autonomous response and felt my canines lengthen. any recognizable human emotion possessed by my being was numb, i felt primal, on the verge of agitation almost. these feelings and bodily changes lasted a few hours. as i type this i feel as if all my senses are extremely taxed.

whenever anybody says being otherkin isn’t painful i just remind myself of these incidents… :c

[  love in the dark. ]

A/N: So. I have never written smut before. This was an ordeal. I am blushing furiously like a great ninny and every ounce of blame sits on @killians-dimples‘ shoulders. “Just do it, Ann.” “I write one, you write one, Ann.” “Blah blah blah insert peer pressure here, Ann.”

So here it is, whatever it is. It’s a kind-of-not-really answer to her smutlet here that spiraled out of control because I listened to far too much Adele while writing it. Killian once preferred taking Emma with the lights on, but things are different now. Everything is different now.

(But seriously, go listen to Adele’s ‘I Miss You’. Just fuck me up.)

+ + + +

Now that they are both here in the darkness, consumed with the wicked electricity that sparks through their veins–that sparks between them when they touch–Emma almost welcomes it.

With him she can be raw and unleashed; she can be sharp and greedy. She trusts him with that part of herself, Dark One to Dark One, welcoming that part of him in return. Even as guilt whispers through the deep recesses of her mind, guilt for unleashing this in him—in them both—he’s there, rolling her underneath him and taking her mouth with bruising kisses, whiskers leaving burn marks with the ferocity of his movements. Fire ignites deep in her belly, a burning flash spreading like wildfire, and it’s all she can do to press closer, to pull him into the flames with her.

With a flick of his hand, the room plunges into darkness.

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As our lips touched, electricity consumed my entire being. Our lips were like magnets. The more I tried to pull away, the stronger her gravity pulled me in. And in that moment all I felt was her soft hair on my fingertips, and the vast universe on my tongue.
—  xo-daisy-xo