LANCE: i’m a barbie girl, in a barbie world!
PIDGE: life in plastic! it’s fantastic!
BOTH: you can brush my hair, undress me everywhere! imagination, life is your creation!
SHIRO (from another room in a completely monotone voice): c'mon barbie, let’s go party
*silence as lance and pidge look at each other in shock trying not to laugh*
ALL 3: AH AH AH YEAH!
KEITH, TO HUNK: do you see why me, a humble emo, cannot survive out here?
HUNK: uhhhh, i dunno keith, barbie girl is a classic, and if you can’t see that, there is going to be a strain on this friendship.
If you want a fan fiction of your own, commission me. Send me a message and I will tell you my prices.
This story was inspired by @drawbauchery‘s various AU’s with Lapidot. There are so many. I chose the one where Lapis is a librarian by day and a bike riding badass at night.
Peridot tried to balance driving her little buggy and fixing
Lapis’ unruly hair at the same time. One strand of ocean-blue was driving her
insane because it wouldn’t cooperate with the rest of the hairstyle she picked
out for her girlfriend; no amount of spit on Peridot’s fingertips could make
the single strand on Lapis’ forehead fall into place.
“You know, I could find a better use for your ‘magic’
fingers,” said Lapis, bouncing her eyebrows, flirting.
Peridot blushed red, slapping Lapis’ face. “Will you knock
it off?! This is serious!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“This is the first time you’re going to meet Zircon and I’d
rather you be more your librarian persona than your biker self.”
“But you like my biker self.”
Peridot actually spit into her fingertips and forcibly glued
the stubborn strand down, only to have it pop back out. “Erraaa! That’s not the
1. 19-2000: What’s your dream car?
2. 5/4: Have you ever been cheated on?
3. Dirty Harry: Do you have family members in the military?
4. DARE: When was the last time you danced?
5. Feel Good Inc: Have you ever had sex before?
6. Rockit: Who’s your favorite celebrity?
7. Murdoc is God: Bisexual or no?
8. Clint Eastwood: Do you believe in ghosts?
9. On Melancholy Hill: What do you dream of?
10. Stylo: What’s your dream car?
11. Do Ya Thing: What kind of shoe do you wear most often?
12. Rock The House: Where do you want to live when you get older?
13. Andromeda: What’s your favorite planet?
14. Momentz: Dream date?
15. Saturnz Barz: What’s your goal in life?
16. Plastic Beach: If you were stuck on a desert island, which band member would you want with you?
17. Revolving Doors: What’s one thing you regret?
18. Doncamatic: Would you rather be a mermaid or a siren?
19. Rhinestone Eyes: What’s your eye color?
20. Sleeping Powder: Have you ever done drugs?
21. We Got The Power: Would you change the world?
22. Let Me Out: Would you die to save your best friend?
23. Broken: When was the last time you had your heart broken?
24. All Alone: How did your last relationship end?
25. She’s My Collar: What are your top 3 kinks?
We’ve all been told that we should recycle plastic bottles and containers. But what actually happens to the plastic if we just throw it away? Here are the life cycles of three different plastic bottles.
Bottle One, like hundreds of millions of tons of its plastic brethren, ends up in a landfill. This huge dump expands each day, as more trash moves in and continues to take up space.
As plastics sit there being compressed, rainwater flows through the waste and absorbs the water soluble compounds it contains, and some of those are highly toxic. Together they create a harmful stew called “leachate”, which can move into groundwater, soil, and streams, poisoning ecosystems and harming wildlife. It can take Bottle One an agonizing 1,000 years to decompose.
Bottle Two floats on a trickle that reaches a stream, a stream that flows into a river, and a river that reaches the ocean. After months lost at sea, it’s slowly drawn into a massive vortex, where trash accumulates - place known as “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch.” This is one of five plastic filled gyres in the worlds seas.
Some animals mistake the brightly colored plastic bits for food. Plastic makes them feel full when they’re not, so they starve to death, passing the toxins from the plastic up the food chain, eventually to us.
Bottle Three, on the other hand, is recycled. It’s taken away on a truck to a plant, where it and its companions are squeezed flat and compressed into a block. The blocks are shredded into tiny pieces, which are washed and melted, so they become the raw materials that can be used again. Bottle Three is ready to be reborn, as something new.
So, what can you do? First - reduce your use of plastic altogether! And when you do find yourself needing to buy a bottle, don’t forget to recycle it. You’ll be doing Planet Earth a great, big favor.
Today is World Oceans Day, a global day of ocean celebration and collaboration for a better future. A healthy world ocean is critical to our survival. Together, let’s honor, help protect, and conserve the world’s oceans!
1. While the Earth’s oceans are known as five separate entities, there is really only one ocean.
2. The ocean contains upwards of 99% of the world’s biosphere, that is, the spaces and places where life exists.
3. Jellyfish are soft because they are 95% water and are mostly made of a translucent gel-like substance called mesoglea. With such delicate bodies, jellyfish rely on thousands of venom-containing stinging cells called cnidocytes for protection and prey capture.
4. Plastics & litter that make their way into our oceans are swiftly carried by currents, ultimately winding up in huge circulating ocean systems called gyres. The earth has five gyres that act as gathering points, but the largest of all is known as the ‘Great Pacific Garbage Patch’ and has grown so immense that the oceanic garbage patch can shift from around the size of Texas, to something the size of the United States.
5.The 200 or so species of octopuses are mollusks belonging to the order Cephalopoda, Greek for ‘head-feet’. Those heads contain impressively large brains, with a brain to body ratio similar to that of other intelligent animals, and a complex nervous system with about as many neurons as that of a dog.
6. Some lucky animals are naturally endowed with bioluminescence, or the ability to create light. The firefly, the anglerfish, and a few more surprising creatures use this ability in many ways, including survival, hunting, and mating.
i was listening to this song and a idea came to mind. ‘’you’re getting higher than the ceiling lights, and falling hard, hard enough to lose the fight. not in it for the money, just in it for the thrill.’’ -dazzle, oh wonder. 2.7K+ words.
Damian’s fascinated, utterly hypnotized.
And it’s all the fault of one special Kryptonian.
He doesn’t do love, what’s the point? It makes you weak. Gives people a way to get right through your armor and shatter you in a way that nothing else does. His mother explained that to him many a time. He had listened to her stories as a child.
There was someone once, someone that she had truly loved. Ra had found out. He killed them right in front of her. She vowed never to love again. It was foolishness.
Damian learned from her mistake just like she wanted him to.
‘‘You will never let yourself sink as low as petty humans. You, my son, deserve a god for you will be one someday with this mighty empire of ours.’’ She spoke, it was a miracle she was giving him the slightest of affection, running her nimble fingers through his hair. For a moment, he believed that he saw love in her eyes. Then she steeled, abruptly standing up from her seat beside him. ‘’We need to cut your hair at once.’’
And that was that.
He never loved, scoffed at admirers, pretended to retch at the romantic scenes in the movies Dick was so fond of watching. Poked fun at the silly novels he occasionally caught Jon reading.
Then puberty happened.
Hormones, hormones, hormones.
He was laying back on his bed. Titans Tower was completely deserted. Everyone hadn’t yet come back from the holiday break. Not that he blamed them. The ones who didn’t have family simply stayed with another of the teens.
Damian had come back as soon as the clock struck midnight, announcing the presence of the new year.
He stared at the ceiling, trying to count exactly how many bumps were on the roof of his room. The Titans had repainted his room, which had been a chipped, bloody mess. He was grateful, but none of them had any futures in designing rooms or anything of the sort. Some paint was layered, to cover the dark crimson stains, and you could tell the difference right away.
He said nothing.
He was restless. He couldn’t get to sleep, no matter which way he turned, or punched his pillow. He tried sleeping on his stomach, but that was just uncomfortable in so many ways. Plus, he didn’t feel like getting accidentally turned on which was happening quite frequently nowadays.
‘‘It’s perfectly normal-’‘ Dick crooned. ‘‘Another word and I will smother you in your sleep.’‘ Damian interrupted.
Robin sighed. It was so quiet without any members of his team. Usually there was at least one insomniac hanging out in the living room, watching some sort of program on the TV, which Damian could hear from his bedroom.
A ear-piercing sound rang in the air.
He shot up in bed, blindly going for his suit, pulling it on in record breaking time.
Adjusting the mask as he went, he ran out to the living room.
‘INTRUDER ALERT’ flashed across the screen and the wail continued.
What, the Tower was impossible to break into. He had been making sure of it. Great, now he had to say that the Tower was nearly impossible to break into.
He started pressing buttons to at least stop the sound so he could figure out where the hell this intruder was, so he could beat the living hell out of them. He was a bit antsy.
Then, the alarm stopped.
He glanced down at the electronic keyboard and found that he hadn’t pressed enter yet.
‘‘Sorry ‘bout that, I slipped up on the last number in the code.’‘ A voice came from behind him. A laugh as well, a low one that managed to make his heart beat the slightest bit faster. Not that he would ever acknowledge it.
Damian tucked away the batarang that had been taken out in the blink of an eye.
He turned around, seeing Superboy vault over the couch.
Jon placed his feet over the top of the couch as his head hung off the couch, strands of hair coming loose with gravity and framing his oh so perfect blue eyes and delicate, dull pink lips. Ones that were forming a word.
–you’ve got diamonds in your eyes tonight–
‘‘-me.’‘ Jon was smiling at him, it sent an unfamiliar warmth through him and he had to fight back a shiver.
‘‘Huh?’‘ Had he really been so distracted by the boy hanging upside down?
‘‘Nothing,’‘ Jon laughed. ‘‘What’s up?’‘
The question snapped the youngest Wayne out of his daze and back to his senses.
‘‘What’s up?’’ Damian mocked. ‘’How the heck did you manage to get into my secure building? Why are you here? What is the meaning of this?’’
‘‘Pretty sure that it doesn’t belong to you and one question at a time, please.’‘ A lopsided grin.
He hid his reaction to it, waving his hand so the keyboard disappeared, leaving the coffee table just that. A plain table.
‘‘Okay, then answer them.’‘
‘‘Someone’s grouchy. Ooh, an apple.’‘ Jon sat up, grabbing the fruit from the bowl placed there. He made a face after biting into it. ‘‘Ours are better.’‘ He gingerly set it down on the table.
Damian rolled his eyes. ‘’I’m waiting, Kent.’’
Nope. He noped everything. This was karma, had to be.
He watched in silence as Jon lent forward, placing his somehow soft fingers on the side of his face, it was unusual and it took him off guard. His own hands were rough from years of handling his equipment. Little cuts littered them. Permanent.
Breath hitched in his throat.
Why was he reacting like this?
Then, Jon’s fingers brushed higher up and they pulled at his mask, successfully removing it. He pulled back, casually dropping the thing in his lap.
‘‘There, so much better.’‘ The shaggy haired teen smoothed out the creases in the mask.
Damian let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
‘‘So, now to answer your many questions.’‘ Jon waved his hands around in a flourish and Damian found himself staring at their every twitch.
Huh, he has really pretty hands.
He found himself wanting to get into contact with them once again.
‘‘Kon gave me the code by the way, so don’t worry. Your security is still perfectly intact.’‘
‘‘Of course it is, I built it.’‘ The vigilante responded with a huff.
Jon tilted his head back in a laugh, and Damian should have found that offensive but he was trapped.
Enthralled by the way Jon’s eyes shut when he did so, a sense of disappointment stirring in Damian when he could no longer view the wonderful shade of blue, lips curling upwards, collarbones just about showing from the top of his hoodie that wasn’t zipped all the way to the top, and it being yanked up a bit when he brought up a hand to muffle a laugh, exposing some of the beautiful pale skin right underneath his navel.
–dazzle me, dazzle me–
Whatever deity existed, they were torturing him.
The one across from him took a moment to calm, taking a deep breath in and then out.
‘‘I’m-,’‘ Superman’s son snickered again, ‘‘fine.’‘ He waved his hand in dismissal of the laugh that had just occurred. ‘‘Listen, I was in the area, and Kon told me you were hanging around here alone. Thought I would keep you company.’‘ There was a pause.
Damian didn’t know why but his heart pounded with fear, drowning out any other noise.
‘‘…And maybe we could talk about what happened at my party?’‘
And there it was.
‘‘Damian, c’mon,’‘ Jon whined, bringing a smile to Damian’s lips. ‘‘It’s my fifteenth, we’re here to have fun. Not lurk in a corner and be depressing.’‘
‘‘It’s what I do best.’‘ He replied, and full lips formed into a adorable pout.
He didn’t like parties, and Clark and Bruce, God knows how those two conspired to do this, had thrown the biggest one ever. They had left once it started, trusting the boys to not let anything get too out of hand.
‘‘Well, we’re dancing.’‘ Jon spoke, a certainty in his voice.
–give me neon lights–
‘‘No way.’‘ He scoffed, settling in on the couch.
‘‘It’s my birthday, I get exactly what I want.’‘
Damian didn’t understand why that sentence affected him so much.
He let Jon pull him up, dragging him into the fray.
Swarms of warm, teen bodies. They didn’t know half these people but it didn’t matter right now. The smell of sweat, and excitement buzzing in the air like electricity, his veins absorbing it.
–see the plastic life through my bloodshot eyes–
They fumbled, awkwardly stepping, not really knowing what to do but that made it better.
–you’re getting higher than the ceiling lights–
Jon kept getting closer and closer.
He didn’t notice.
–and falling hard, hard enough to lose the fight–
They stepped on each other’s toes a couple of times.
Jon was swaying, and was humming along to the beat with his eyes shut.
‘‘Having fun there?’‘
Red colored the boy’s cheeks, as if he’d been caught.
A blush (?)
He stuck out his tongue at Damian, childish.
They broke out laughing.
‘‘You’re looking at me like that again.’‘ Blue eyes, narrowed. Calculating.
‘‘Like what?’‘ The Arabian male said, confused.
‘‘I dunno, It’s just-’‘ Jon shook his head. ‘‘I should shut up.’‘
‘‘No, really. Like what?’‘
Raven hair fell into his eyes as Jon stared down at his worn out sneakers.
He mumbled something, but Damian didn’t catch it with how loud the conversations around them were.
A fist gripped his shirt, balling it up. Damian thought that Jon was going to punch him for a second and he went to remove the hand.
Jon was faster.
A rough tug to the front of his shirt, and lukewarm lips crashed against his slightly chapped ones.
–not in it for the money, just in it for the thrill–
A weird sounding noise escaped his mouth, and the grip on his shirt loosened but the hand remained there, pressing against his chest.
The other was brought up, skimming the back of his neck.
–living in the moment, paying for the kill–
His eyes fluttered closed, body relaxing in way he didn’t know was possible.
Damian had no idea how to respond so he just did. No thinking.
Hands on Jon’s waist, fingers curling into the belt loops on his jeans, tugging.
More, more, more.
Him, him, him.
Invading his thoughts, poisoning his mind until there was nothing else.
–i am wild alive, i am wild alive–
His head started to feel dizzy, and with irony he remembered, ‘I need air,’ and pulled back, although Jon was hesitant to let him go, and gave a whimper.
They stared at each other, eyes going wide as if only now realizing what they had just done.
‘‘Oh my God, I’m-’‘ Jon began but Damian’s mouth was already back on his, muting any further words.
–golden grill of sadness, mid-life wasted youth–
The rest of the night was a blur.
They broke apart, snuck away from the crowd.
They made their way onto the roof, and talked. Nothing about what had just happened. Just…life.
–there’s a human in your heart of hearts–
There was a new feeling in the air between them, however.
Damian liked it.
–hiding true colors made you fall apart–
The party ended, and Jon went home while Damian helped clean up the mess left behind by everyone.
‘‘What about it?’‘ Damian’s voice sounded choked, even to him. Scared, even. He talked fast. ‘‘There’s nothing to talk about. Absolutely nothing.’‘
‘‘It’s been three months, we ought to talk about it sometime.’‘ Jon’s voice was soft, as if trying to lure a frightened animal from their hiding place.
–throwing fire, trying to make it right–
‘‘No, we don’t.’’ Damian continued stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest, purposely avoiding his friend’s eyes which were probably giving him the signature Jon Kent look.
If you thought puppy dog eyes were bad, Jon’s version of them were the absolute worst and could get anyone to do anything.
Hence, why Damian refused to look Jon in the eye. He’d give in.
Jon threw up his hands in frustration, giving a long, annoyed exhale.
–always ends up like this, always gonna lose–
‘‘Fine! How about I talk, and you listen?’‘
Damian didn’t respond.
‘‘What, was I that bad a kisser or something? Is that why you’ve refused to partner up with me on anything unless told to, huh? Do you just not like me? A fluke, a mistake. You could have just told me instead of being a, a, thing about it! If I remember correctly, you kissed me back! That’s gotta mean something. Doesn’t it?” His voice got progressively quieter, more shaky as he went on, as if he were scared to have a answer to his many questions.
It almost hurt to hear him ramble.
Jon stopped, anger still visible in his eyes, and the way his hands were clenched at his sides.
Damian groaned, leaning forward and dropping his head into his hands.
‘‘Explain it to me then.’‘ A unspoken plead was in his eyes and that did it for Damian.
‘‘I-I got scared, alright? It’s not just everyday that your best friend for five years kisses you! I didn’t want to, didn’t want to ruin it, okay? I’ve freaking done things but what if me, me being me is the thing that makes that disappear? That’s a heck of a lot worse. So,I distanced, maybe you’d forget all about it.’‘ Damian’s voice rose and lowered throughout his rant, shouting and then dropping into a barely audible whisper that would have gone unheard if not for Jon’s super hearing.
Jon looked at him and gave a bitter laugh. Nothing like the one that made warmth flush to his cheeks and his heart thump that much faster.
‘‘I was the one who kissed you, don’t you think that means anything? I know you. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing.’‘
‘‘Don’t you mean, was?’’ Damian said.
Jon looked at him, a determined expression on his face.
And then he kissed him, again.
This time was much different. It wasn’t sped up, this was drawn out.
The other was pent up feelings being let out, this one was expression.
Damian found himself returning it, before he even realized what he was doing.
A hand cupped his cheek and Damian gave a content sigh against Jon’s mouth. He tangled his hands in the shaggy mess that was Jon’s hair, gently pulling on the strands.
Hands were on his chest now, moving.
Blunt nails dug into his back, not enough to hurt, but he definitely felt the pressure.
Jon pulled away this time, red plastered on his cheeks, lips slightly swollen.
Their foreheads resting together as they caught their breaths, panting.
‘‘That was something.’‘ Jon deadpanned.
‘‘Agreed.’‘ Damian nodded.
They laughed in unison, clutching each other’s shirts while they howled with laughter.
They calmed, but didn’t move from where they were.
Jon wrapped his finger around a small silver chain that had a tiny cat pendant, he had gifted him it the Christmas before, saying that it had reminded him of Alfred, Damian’s cat that is.
‘‘You kept it.’‘
‘’Why wouldn’t I?’‘
‘‘It seemed that you didn’t like it.’‘
‘‘Oh, well I do. I like it, since it came from you, and I like you.’‘ The words were just slipping out of his mouth by now, and holy- Jon looked so pretty like this, all flushed and out of breath and wow. He really needed to make him look like this more often. ‘’You’re even more pretty up close.’’
Jon couldn’t possibly have gotten more red, but he did, ducking his head.
‘‘Yeah, same goes for me.’‘ He murmured.
‘‘What was that?’‘ Damian teased.
‘‘I like you too. There, happy.’‘ He looked up, meeting Damian’s lovesick gaze.
all offense but the lego movie franchise and the fandom surrounding it has been a largely positive force in my life since the first trailer dropped 4 years ago I don’t care how many movies they make or how much I’m playing into consumerism by purchasing the merchandise I will blissfully accept all LEGO® related content into my life until my plastic-brick soul leaves this mortal coil