where am i ?


Idk, au where LOK happens in the future. I swear I tried to paint a decent Republic City, but the attempt was failed. Twice. Not sure if this can even count as Korrasami, but what the hell. Also I’m so sorry, Korra, you are always a little more bullshitted than Asami.

Also it’s my second art anniversary. Confetti and thank you to everyone for the support, without you guys I’d probably have walked out on the whole art thing 10 times by now.

Shared Oct 01 with 4,117 notes » via - source + reblog
# fave# lok# outfits# hair# korra# asami# NOT KORRASAMI THOUGH I WEEP FOR LOST OPPORTUNITIES




Shared Oct 01 with 8,004 notes » via - source + reblog
# art




dropkickedmurphys:

glassesblu:

Somebody draw this please


I DID IT

dropkickedmurphys:

glassesblu:

Somebody draw this please

I DID IT

Shared Oct 01 with 17,618 notes » via - source + reblog
# digitalife# the game




nayrosartrefs:

Some awesome leg tutorials done by n3m0s1s.

Shared Oct 01 with 51,470 notes » via - source + reblog
# ref: art# why do i do this# i don't even draw




Shared Oct 01 with 4,993 notes » via - source + reblog
# lok# guess what my next new cosplay will be




I’m not much but I’m all I have.
— Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip (via durianquotes)
Shared Oct 01 with 278 notes » via - source + reblog
# eternal demons# words




youwinagainmoffat:

ppyajunebug:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(Image source.)
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickass
lavenderpatil
because everyone should read it


Well fuck

youwinagainmoffat:

ppyajunebug:

thelethifoldwitch:

Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure

But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.

Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.

Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.

Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured by their classmates for having been born.

Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)

Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.

Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?

Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.

Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.

Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.

Imagine the ghosts.

Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)

Imagine the students unable to trust each other everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.

Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.

Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.

Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.

Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.

Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.

Imagine the students who leave the wixen world hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.

Imagine the students who never use magic again.

(Image source.)

(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)

Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickass
lavenderpatil
because everyone should read it

Well fuck

Shared Oct 01 with 79,332 notes » via - source + reblog
# ptsd# harry potter# this post brought up so many memories and so many feelings




sean3116:

wnderlst:

The Prague astronomical clock is the oldest astronomical clock that is still working and displays information such as the relative positions of planetary objects. | Hichem Merabet

I don’t see much clock porn.

sean3116:

wnderlst:

The Prague astronomical clock is the oldest astronomical clock that is still working and displays information such as the relative positions of planetary objects. | Hichem Merabet

I don’t see much clock porn.

Shared Oct 01 with 10,855 notes » via - source + reblog
# history# art




              Anonymous
Hi, I see you answer a lot of bone cleaning questions; maybe you can help me out. I live in a country where Hydrogen Peroxide is not available in large quantities. Is there something else I can use instead?

shadyufo:

Hey Anon!

Hydrogen peroxide is really the only way to whiten skulls. But a little bit of it does go a long way! For larger skulls or lots of skulls I’ll even dilute the 3% solution sold in grocery stores with water to make it go further. Always gets them white enough to suite me. But there are a couple of alternative ways to buy peroxide.

I’ve never tried it myself but most swimming pool supply stores sell products that are pretty much just high concentrations of hydrogen peroxide. Baquicil Oxidizer (or BO) or any product containing that is about a 27% hydrogen peroxide concentration. Not sure about in your country but I know here you can even buy it online. 27% is pretty high and should be used with extreme caution (keep skulls soaking in it in an open container outdoors, wear sturdy gloves when handling it, keep it off of you!, and do not use metal containers for holding it because the peroxide will react with them and there is the risk of an explosion; hydrogen peroxide in high concentrations is pretty much rocket fuel) but so long as you are careful it’ll be fine. You can also water it down.

Hair salons also sell a product for bleaching hair that contains peroxide. 30 or 40 Volume plain peroxide is what you want to look for. It’s about a 12% concentration and it is a paste that you ‘paint’ on to the skulls.

I’ve even made my own paste by mixing 3% peroxide and baking soda together and coating very large skulls with that to whiten them. That’s how I whitened my giant draft horse skull. Just coated him in that and let him sit in the sun for a while.

Keeping the peroxide-soaking skulls out in direct sunlight, especially hot summer sun, will also help whiten them faster and brighter. The sun by itself can whiten skulls but it just takes a long time and leaving skulls out in the elements for too long can cause them to become damaged or weathered.

Hope all that helps, Anon! Good luck and happy whitening!

Shared Sep 30 with 47 notes » via - source + reblog
# necromance# for future reference# priestess stuff




importantbirds:

 

lexxlovessavannah:

Another bizarre and beautiful bird, the Indian Fantail Pigeon. 

psssh sssssh secret turkey disguise!  Nobody must know!

No brother hush I will bite!

Shared Sep 30 with 742 notes » via - source + reblog
# exotic food




Now “tribal trends” are totally “in.” You can walk into any store in the mall and see “Native” imagery everywhere. As a Native person, when I look at them, I can’t help but remember the not-so-distant past when my people weren’t allowed, by law, to wear these things. It’s such a constant reminder of the colonial power structures still in place. Back in the day, white people had the power to take away our culture, and now they have the power to wear it however they see fit. These are our images, our cultural symbols, yet we are completely powerless to have control over them.
Shared Sep 30 with 21,797 notes » via - source + reblog
# history# ndn# n8v




jessehimself:


jessehimself:
onlyfitgirls:

Ha’a Keaulana runs across the ocean floor with a 50 pound boulder. They do this as training to survive the massive surf waves of winter. She learned her amazing skills from her dad, legendary waterman #briankeaulana and her Grandpa, #Buffalo. I was very humbled to learn from the Hawaiians who have salt water running through their veins. Mahalo Nui Loa. Please stay tuned for our upcoming story on the Hawaiian surfing culture. 
Shared of @natgeo  


Brian Keaulana taught me to surf. Amazing family.

jessehimself:

jessehimself:

onlyfitgirls:

Ha’a Keaulana runs across the ocean floor with a 50 pound boulder. They do this as training to survive the massive surf waves of winter. She learned her amazing skills from her dad, legendary waterman #briankeaulana and her Grandpa, #Buffalo. I was very humbled to learn from the Hawaiians who have salt water running through their veins. Mahalo Nui Loa. Please stay tuned for our upcoming story on the Hawaiian surfing culture. 

Shared of @natgeo  

Brian Keaulana taught me to surf. Amazing family.

Shared Sep 30 with 77,718 notes » via - source + reblog
# sports




nevver:

Paper craft, Hari & Deepti

Shared Sep 30 with 1,385 notes » via - source + reblog
# art




mcsprankles:

ohcorny:

deermary:

Grey Peacock-Pheasant (Polyplectron bicalcaratum) of southeast Asia.

yo why didnt i know about these

Wow man forget regular peacocks this thing is magical.

Shared Sep 30 with 32,112 notes » via - source + reblog
# biology# avis




Shared Sep 30 with 100 notes » via - source + reblog
# linguistics