A central clearinghouse for fandom stuff I like. <a href="">My Artwork!</a><br>(Not a Spoiler-Free Blog. Consider yourself warned!)

total posts: 24924
updated: 8.4 hours ago

Posted: 8.4 hours ago
pokemon-merch-news: Get ready for a huge Pokémon plush reveal, here is a 2m tall Lapras! This super size plush will retail for 79 400 yen (shipping included) as an exclusive for Japan! The exact size of this Lapras box is around [H117cm × W115cm × D75cm]. More details: - Made in China. - Approximate height of plush 1.2m, width 2m, vertical width 2m. Weight : 16kg. - Recommended for ages 6+ - Anime reference included in gallery above. Note : Box is 24cm larger than the Pokémon Center version [93cm]. Please note : Bandai have issued a statement notice due to popularity of preorders, the plush has sold out within 5 hours of going live. A second opening of preorders is expected, but please stay tuned for more information.
#Pokemon #Lapras #The Cuteness
Posted: 9.2 hours ago
tellainsa: Paper Princesses The collection thus far. I want to do all of them, even Anna and Elsa although I am not a massive fan of Frozen. I have been working on an off on this project for a year now, and it will probably take another year to complete, but it is great fun and rather rewarding. In the end they are all going to be framed and put up in my home. Please do not repost.
#Disney Princesses #Paper Craft #Paper Art
Posted: 12.5 hours ago
viv-draws: “Catfish" © Vivien Wu Thank you so much for your responses and appreciation to this post! Prints are available on my Etsy as well as my Society 6 shop. Looking forward to doing more on this series soon :3
#Cats #Catfish #the cuteness
Posted: 14.1 hours ago
dearydeerling: catandsomething: nubbsgalore: photos by gerry ellis from the david sheldrick wildlife trust, a nursery and orphanage for elephants in kenya’s tsavo east national park. here, fifty five keepers are charged with being around the clock parents to an elephant. the elephants, however, are the ones who chose their caretakers; it is the keepers who must ingratiate themselves to the elephants and earn their trust. when elephants first arrive at the orphanage they are often traumatized from having witnessed the slaughter of their mothers and family by poachers. grieving can last several months, and they often lose the will to live. but as dame daphne sheldrick, founder of the orphanage, explains, a caretaker is charged with “persuading an elephant to live when it wants to die.” approximately 35,000 elephants are killed by humans every year. with an estimated 350,000 elephants left in the whole continent of africa, they will be gone in the wild within ten years. cbc’s the nature of things did a program on the elephants and their caretakers. you can foster an elephant with the david sheldrick wildlife trust online here. for more on the emotional lives of elephants, as well as the david sheldrick wildlife trust and other human efforts to save the animals, check out these posts Could you reblog it, guys? Pretty much the only elephants who go on rampages and attack villages and the like are orphaned male elephants. Dealing with hormones and growth without a proper role model and the trauma of losing family is so genuinely unbearable for these elephants that they can basically lose control–fostering them and also allowing for them to meet older male elephants to role model, can help keep people and their homes safe too! Elephants are very smart and social creatures, but this also means they can get developmental and social problems like us too. ^^;;
#Elephants #:(
Posted: 20.6 hours ago
sundayswiththeilluminati: fuck-planets: native-coronan: unbelievable-facts: An SR-71 Blackbird once flew from LA to Washington DC in 64 minutes. Average speed of the flight: 2145mph. “There were a lot of things we couldn’t do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment. It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet. I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn’t match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace. We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: “November Charlie 175, I’m showing you at ninety knots on the ground.” Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the “ Houston Center voice.” I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country’s space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn’t matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios. Just moments after the Cessna’s inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. “I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed.” Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. “Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check”. Before Center could reply, I’m thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol’ Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He’s the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: “Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground.” And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we’ll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn. Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: “Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?” There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. “Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground.” I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: “Ah, Center, much thanks, we’re showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money.” For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A. came back with, “Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one.” It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day’s work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast.” -Brian Schul, Sled Driver: Flying The World’s Fastest Jet Always reblog passive-aggressive Blackbird speed check guys seriously tho what the fuck even was the SR-71 blackbird. That plane is like someone made a fucking bet. Like someone went “I have ten bucks that says you can’t make something that cruises at Mach 2.5″ and the aero folks scoffed and went hold our collective goddamn beers and then they cracked out a plane that CRUISES AT MACH 3 (for reference the much vaunted “supercruise” of the F-22 is only a few ticks above Mach 1). You need to understand how patently absurd this fucking vehicle is from nose to tail. Its original iteration, the A-12, was the successor to the U-2 when it became clear the USSR had developed missiles that could fly high enough to shoot it down so instead they built a new plane so fast you couldn’t fucking hit it. THAT WAS LITERALLY HOW THE SR-71 WORKED. By the time you realized what was goddamn happening at 80,000 feet it was already out of your fucking timezone. One time a pilot missed a turn by a second and ended up over Atlanta instead of DC. It flew so fast and got so hot that the entire fuselage stretched by several inches midflight which turned out to be a gigantic pain because all the fuel lines were hooked up assuming this stretching factor, so while on the ground it leaked like a goddamn sieve so at one point they decided to combat this BY STUFFING IT FULL OF KOTEX literally they had to shove tampons in this incredibly sophisticated aircraft so the fuel would stay in. It was the first serious aircraft built entirely out of titanium because no other metal could do the job, and at the time titanium wasn’t a widely-used metal so the world’s only major supplier WAS THE ACTUAL USSR SO THE US ACTUALLY BOUGHT THE MATERIAL TO MAKE THEIR SECRET SPY PLANE FROM THE PEOPLE THEY WERE SPYING ON. TL;DR Every single thing about this fucking aircraft is fucking ridiculous.
#sr 71 #sr 71 blackbird #always reblog #amazing
Posted: 23.0 hours ago
pokemon-merch-news: As Detective Pikachu is comping to Europe on 3DS, the Pokémon Center is releasing a line of goods accordingly! The line will be available at the same time as the game, on March 23rd, 2018! Here’s the line-up: - Notebook - 800 yen - Mug - 1 200 yen - Totebag - 1 500 yen - A4 clearfile - 240 yen - Sticker seals - 500 yen
#Pokemon #Pikachu #Detective Pikachu #The Cuteness