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Electric Trading Company, one of Canal Street's oldest stores, is having a massive sale on all fans and heaters! Stock up today in store at 1A Mercer Street or online at !

: Calhuube, . Thanks to for the suggestion! trans. of the sentence: "Every year in July we get a heat wave for three weeks."

🐦 It has been a stiflingly hot summer! Imagine how hard it is for our garden birds to stay cool and healthy in the sizzling temperatures. Read our top tips for keeping our garden birds cool and happy here >

Do not be alarmed, they are only sleeping! 25C and high humidity was too much for these sheep, they retired to the shade. Spotted on our round walk around Wistow in

In all seriousness :) GTX Titan X nominal TDP was also 250W, but in reality, measured under stress reached 385W. In we see two fans instead of one. Prepare for real with this beauty. can extract all that heat silently with 0.4L/min flow.

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Time for a General Strike! We must demand an election now! Time for the Governor General to sack this government. Unprecedented Crime Australia had no leadership.

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Mick Rory (Heatwave) || Arrowverse

“Losers. That’s why Rip picked us. Snart, the professor, those stupid hawk flying chicken people. We’re all expendable.”

  • Signs: Heavy sweating, paleness, muscle cramps, tiredness, weakness, dizziness, headache, nausea or vomiting, or fainting
  • Actions: Go to an air-conditioned place and lie down. Loosen or remove clothing. Take a cool bath. Take sips of cool sports drinks with salt and sugar. Get medical help if symptoms get worse or last more than an hour.
Staring at the Sun - LetZoeSpoilYou - DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 48/?
Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ray Palmer/Mick Rory
Characters: Ray Palmer, Mick Rory
Additional Tags: atomwave, Hurt/Comfort, Kryptonian, kryptonian ray, mentions of child abuse, Ray Palmer - Freeform, Mick Rory - Freeform, Mick/Ray, suppressed memories, new powers, Kryptonian Ray Palmer, Self-Harm

Ray is kryptonian and was meant to be this Earths Superman but when his parents found his pod they used thier discovery for science not wanting anyone to work out where they came up with tings like a new energy source they found a way to block Rays powers. Ray now uses his humour and optimism as a shield to hide the fact that his parents were a bit cold and distant with him and he’s suppressed his memories of being experimented on.
Cut to present and the device is damaged and his powers start to emerge plus his traumatic memories. Mick is the one who helps him deal with his past trauma while also starting to freak out that Ray keeps putting himself in more and more dangerous situations to test the new limits of his body and powers!

Its been too long but finally got some time to write again and am updating my fic!!!

so like when i first read this exchange i thought ‘oh mick’s saying that even if singh shoots him, he’s so tough he’ll just brush it off and kick singh’s ass in retaliation’

n..nooo that is……that is wrong, i think. i read it again and 

‘if you really knew us’

i suddenly realized that what mick means is that if singh really knew the rogues, he’d know that if he shot mick then the very next second len, marco, sam and axel would turn around and kill every cop in a five mile radius

  • Signs: Muscle pains or spasms in the stomach, arms, or legs
  • Actions: Go to a cooler location. Remove excess clothing. Take sips of cool sports drinks with salt and sugar. Get medical help if cramps last more than an hour.
Carry-on: Part 1

There is a point you reach in life that you start to realize you are not fully in control of your circumstances in life. For me, it came the first time I traveled alone to Ireland, and the British Isles. 

I packed what I thought would be the essentials: toiletries, passport, pounds and euro, underwear, socks, jeans, t-shirts and a faux leather jacket for protection from the infamous rain. I even bought an umbrella upon arrival later in Ireland.

Little did I expect to be greeted in Glasgow with 28 degree Celsius weather, and a chorus of Scots saying how this is completely unexpected. It was May in an area of the globe known for its mild climate. Even the Scots were taken by surprise, how was I to expect that? The hardship continued when I reached Edinburgh. Although I had spent years researching what to expect living and studying there- as I had dream of studying there for the last two years- I had been blissfully unaware of the undulating hills and steps. Oh, the steps. 

Lugging a 20 kilo carry-on bag and a backpack around a maze of a city in near thirty degree heat with little to no idea if ahead there was an intersection or a bridge, a cobbled stoned side-street or a hidden close, or what the difference between Haymarket and Grassmarket was. My up and downs around the city ended in anything but success as I figured out my first rookie travel mistake- never try to book weekend accommodation on site. Thus, I shipped out and packed off to Aberfeldy. But that was the least of my worries

That umbrella I had presumptuously bought in Ireland proved to be ineffective against the hurricane force wind and torrential rains of the Wild Atlantic Coast. The wind turned it inside out, bent and broke it, and left it looking like a dead bat. Thinking back, actually, it looked more like a possessed spider, but regardless…  You’ll often hear about the rain or the cloudy weather in Ireland, the dreary sunless days which linger over the place like a demonic force capable of ruining your day or providing an excuse for your sloth-like behaviour. No one really talks about the wind in Ireland though. That howling presence which takes you by surprise, turning your umbrella inside out and whipping water at your face like that will wake you up from the horrendous stormy weathered dream- or should I say nightmare- only to clear within two hours and the sun shines down not quite able to compensate for the level of soaking wet you’ve become. 

However little by little, Irish weather grows on you- like a fungus or ‘the damp’ which grows and spread insidiously inside their residences, and soon your melanin completely disappears from your skin and you become the ghost-like structure of the statues you see in the Louvre. And while resembling a Grecian God has always been a goal,  you’d hoped that the physical resemblance wouldn’t just be the particular hue of white you both have taken on while the sunscreen in your bag is left untouched. 

The point I guess I am trying to make is, you never know what to pack or how to be prepared for life. You can research- you can pack essentials, but you can never be fully prepared for the onslaught of changeable circumstances you encounter while travelling. However, there is no better teacher than experience, or some cliché like that. 

Halfway to boiling

Imagine a city at 50C (122F). The pavements are empty, the parks quiet, entire neighbourhoods appear uninhabited. Nobody with a choice ventures outside during daylight hours. Only at night do the denizens emerge, HG Wells-style, into the streets – though, in temperatures that high, even darkness no longer provides relief. Uncooled air is treated like effluent: to be flushed as quickly as possible.

School playgrounds are silent as pupils shelter inside. In the hottest hours of the day, working outdoors is banned. The only people in sight are those who do not have access to air conditioning, who have no escape from the blanket of heat: the poor, the homeless, undocumented labourers. Society is divided into the cool haves and the hot have-nots.

The curtain-raiser to Guardian Cities’ Sweltering Cities week exploring the growing issue of urban heat.

Halfway to boiling: the city at 50C

In Love with a Criminal

Chapter 1

Warnings: Mentions of theft and violence, cursing (Pretty sure it’s only one)

She could do just about everything from the rafters above in the abandoned warehouse, leaning against the rail with a smirk upon her face as she watched the older of the two bosses glancing in her direction. To an extent that made her feel comforted but at the same time it also gave her an uneasy feeling knowing the past that they both shared. She shifted a little still remaining quiet until he stopped, which were brief moments so he didn’t draw attention to her like they had talked about.


She would help give final say to the boys and it was easier to tell who was going to cause the most problems from where she was standing just observing. Right off the bat she could tell there would be problems with at least two of them, and she would be honest a lot of them probably needed to be cut. Although they did need to a few more than usual for the job her boys had in mind.

She waited a few more minutes before she made her presence known and that didn’t seem to sit too well with a few of the people that was gathered there. “I’m not hearing reasons to keep any of you.” She caught the groaning and murmuring of the group as she started to make her way down, her heels sounding against the metal with each step that she took toward the boys. “Mick. Snart. Quite a crew you have here, wouldn’t bet my life on them.” A few of them narrowed their eyes at her, which was something that she shook her head toward Mick who was going to say something. “They’re about as wet behind the ears as my nephew.”

One of the guys started going toward her and Mick intervened with narrowed eyes as she continued her way toward the younger of the two boys. “Thanks, Mick.” She patted his shoulder on the way by because it was unusual and she felt like she should let him know she appreciated his assistance. Needed or not. “I feel like you’ll have a bit of loyalty problem with some of these mice.” She smirked as she took her spot beside Snart, and went tsk tsk tsk. “Cut the blonds. They’ll weigh you down. Too much noise.”

“And who are you?” A question she ignored as she propped herself up on the crates behind her and took note of Snart moving more in front of her as Mick started to come back over.

She pointed directly at the man who had spoken to her, still refusing to acknowledge that he’d spoken. “That one too.”

“Who the fuck are you?” She let them know to leave it without making it too obvious she was giving them an order, one of the very few that she ever gives.

“Listen here, mouse. I’m sure you’re aware of who these men are so please, and I do mean this, do not make me have to repeat what I’m about to say. Again.” She took a deep breath before almost too calmly before finishing with a sickeningly sweet tone. “You. Are. Out.” She motioned to herself and then back to him as she pushed herself off of her seat. “So it no longer matters to you who I am because you are no longer a concern to us.” When he didn’t leave the other recruits she said were out grabbed him leaning in to whisper something before his eyes widened as if in recognition. He went with little resistance after that but still tried to insist she was making a mistake.

“Who else?” She turned her attention to Mick Rory, who would become known as Heat Wave after their run in with the Flash, her smile faltering and she looked more somber than she had before. “Ain’t getting any richer sitting here yapping.”

“Always the poet, Mick.” She muttered before moving around the room to assess the rest of them a little more. The group of ten was now a group of seven and she needed them to be down to two or even three.

One by one she eliminated the recruits until there were only four left and that’s when she returned to stand between her boys. She looked from one to the other and then smiled because she knew exactly what that meant, of course that also meant that Mick and Leonard would have to get their hands a little dirty. Unless they wanted her to do it instead. Judging from the look on Mick’s face that wasn’t the case.

“Okay, Boys. Remember the only rule: Don’t kill ‘em.” She placed her hand on Mick’s chest as if she was addressing only him on that one, and in a way she was, before she leaned over and patted Snart’s cheek lightly. “Keep him in line and I’ll see you both at dinner. Seven. Don’t be late.”


frickinrocket  asked:

“What? You said ‘get me something cold’. You never implied I couldn’t throw it over you.” ( heatwave starter )

“Yeah, well now I have to go get new clothes, and I didn’t even want to move. It’s too hot for that, Rocket,“ he sighed, walking from the communal room towards the wing where his bedroom was.