root section


Organic Roots

Igor Vasilevsk

Druzhba sanitarium hotel, designed by  Igor Vasilevsk, 1984 Yalta, Ukraine.(Crimea province)

image1: Cross Section. Druzhba sanitarium hotel. Igor Vasilevsk. 1984. Yalta, Ukraine.

image2: Floor Plan. Druzhba sanitarium hotel. Igor Vasilevsk. 1984. Yalta, Ukraine.

image3: Druzhba sanitarium hotel. Igor Vasilevsk. 1984. Yalta, Ukraine.

No Harm Done

Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

Character/Ship: Klaus Baudelaire x Reader

Warning: Fluff

Writer: Cas

Words: 661

Requested by: @nerdywhovianblogger

Summary: Klaus x reader fluff and like they went to school and studied together.

Author’s Note: Set before the events of A Series of Unfortunate Events, prior to the Baudelaire mansion fire. I didn’t go too far with most of this because Klaus is only about 12 years old….

Originally posted by dirkgentlyx

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viridieanfey said: The makeup I’ve got down, it’s the giant hair that gets me. The top just doesn’t like to go up. With how fine my hair is, I’m kind of afraid to backcomb it too much. X__X

There are two answers to this dilemma! And both products are from the same company!

  1. Big Sexy Hair “What a Tease” Backcomb in a Bottle. It’s a little expensive for a small bottle of product, but it’s worth it. Spray it at your roots, in sections, and you will get amazing lift. BE WARNED: the product is sticky, so don’t go running your hands through your hair, and the nozzle clogs, which means running it under hot water (and occasionally scrubbing it with a washcloth). 
  2. Big Sexy Hair Powder Play. I use this whenever I want big, tousled hair but don’t want to do any backcombing. It doesn’t give you giant hair, but it does give a lot of volume.

However, the truth is that you won’t achieve sky-high goth hair without backcombing. So perhaps keep the enormous hair for special events, and for everyday go for still voluminous, but not heavily backcombed.
Don't Call It Wheat: An Environmentally Friendly Grain Takes Root
Researchers have developed a new wheat-like species called Salish Blue that grows back year after year, which not only cuts down on work for farmers, but helps prevent erosion and agricultural waste.

“Curwen-McAdams, a PhD student at Washington State University, and WSU professor Steven Jones have developed a new species: a cross between wheat and its wild cousin, wheat grass. They call it Salish Blue. Their goal was to make something that’s like wheat but grows back year after year.” Growing crops this way might be more environmentally friendly and sustainable.


November is Native American Heritage Month so many people look for books featuring Native people during this time of year. For November and all year round, this list is filled with some excellent books by Native authors.

Urban Tribes edited by Lisa Charleyboy and Mary Beth Leatherdale
Annick Press

Young, urban Natives powerfully show how their culture and values can survive—and enrich—city life.

Much of the popular discourse on Native Americans and Aboriginals focuses on reservation life. But the majority of Natives in North America live off the rez. How do they stay rooted to their culture? How do they connect with their community?

Urban Tribes offers unique insight into this growing and often misperceived group. Emotionally potent and visually arresting, the anthology profiles young urban Natives from across North America, exploring how they connect with Native culture and values in their contemporary lives. Their stories are as diverse as they are. From a young Dene woman pursuing a MBA at Stanford to a Pima photographer in Phoenix to a Mohawk actress in New York, these urban Natives share their unique perspectives to bridge the divide between their past and their future, their cultural home, and their adopted cities.

Unflinchingly honest and deeply moving, contributors explore a wide-range of topics. From the trials and tribulations of dating in the city to the alienating experience of leaving a remote reserve to attend high school in the city, from the mainstream success of Electric Pow wow music to the humiliation of dealing with racist school mascots, personal perspectives illuminate larger political issues. An innovative and highly visual design offers a dynamic, reading experience.

Crazy Horse’s Girlfriend by Erika T. Wurth
Curbside Splendor

Margaritte is a sharp-tongued, drug-dealing, sixteen-year-old Native American floundering in a Colorado town crippled by poverty, unemployment, and drug abuse. She hates the burnout, futureless kids surrounding her and dreams that she and her unreliable new boyfriend can move far beyond the bright lights of Denver that float on the horizon before the daily suffocation of teen pregnancy eats her alive.

If I Ever Get Out of Here by Eric Gansworth
Arthur Levine

Lewis “Shoe” Blake is used to the joys and difficulties of life on the Tuscarora Indian reservation in 1975: the joking, the Fireball games, the snow blowing through his roof. What he’s not used to is white people being nice to him — people like George Haddonfield, whose family recently moved to town with the Air Force. As the boys connect through their mutual passion for music, especially the Beatles, Lewis has to lie more and more to hide the reality of his family’s poverty from George. He also has to deal with the vicious Evan Reininger, who makes Lewis the special target of his wrath. But when everyone else is on Evan’s side, how can he be defeated? And if George finds out the truth about Lewis’s home — will he still be his friend?

Acclaimed adult author Eric Gansworth makes his YA debut with this wry and powerful novel about friendship, memory, and the joy of rock ‘n’ roll.

Killer of Enemies and the sequel Trail of the Dead by Joseph Bruchac
Tu Books

A post-Apocalyptic YA novel with a steampunk twist, based on an Apache legend.

Years ago, seventeen-year-old Apache hunter Lozen and her family lived in a world of haves and have-nots. There were the Ones — people so augmented with technology and genetic enhancements that they were barely human — and there was everyone else who served them. Then the Cloud came, and everything changed. Tech stopped working. The world plunged back into a new steam age. The Ones’ pets — genetically engineered monsters — turned on them and are now loose on the world.

Lozen was not one of the lucky ones pre-C, but fate has given her a unique set of survival skills and magical abilities. She hunts monsters for the Ones who survived the apocalyptic events of the Cloud, which ensures the safety of her kidnapped family. But with every monster she takes down, Lozen’s powers grow, and she connects those powers to an ancient legend of her people. It soon becomes clear to Lozen that she is not just a hired gun. As the legendary Killer of Enemies was in the ancient days of the Apache people, Lozen is meant to be a more than a hunter. Lozen is meant to be a hero.

Dreaming in Indian: Contemporary Native American Voices edited by Lisa Charleyboy and Mary Beth Leatherdale
Annick Press

A powerful and visually stunning anthology from some of the most groundbreaking Native artists working in North America today.

Truly universal in its themes, “Dreaming In Indian” will shatter commonly held stereotypes and challenge readers to rethink their own place in the world. Divided into four sections, ‘Roots, ‘ ‘Battles, ‘ ‘Medicines, ‘ and ‘Dreamcatchers, ‘ this book offers readers a unique insight into a community often misunderstood and misrepresented by the mainstream media.

Emerging and established Native artists, including acclaimed author Joseph Boyden, renowned visual artist Bunky Echo Hawk, and stand-up comedian Ryan McMahon, contribute thoughtful and heartfelt pieces on their experiences growing up Indigenous, expressing them through such mediums as art, food, the written word, sport, dance, and fashion. Renowned chef Aaron Bear Robe, for example, explains how he introduces restaurant customers to his culture by reinventing traditional dishes. And in a dramatic photo spread, model Ashley Callingbull and photographer Thosh Collins reappropriate the trend of wearing ‘Native’ clothing.

Whether addressing the effects of residential schools, calling out bullies through personal manifestos, or simply citing hopes for the future, “Dreaming In Indian” refuses to shy away from difficult topics. Insightful, thought-provoking, and beautifully honest, this book will to appeal to young adult readers. An innovative and captivating design enhances each contribution and makes for a truly unique reading experience.

House of Purple Cedar by Tim Tingle
Cinco Puntos Press

“The hour has come to speak of troubled times. It is time we spoke of Skullyville.” Thus begins Rose Goode’s story of her growing up in Indian Territory in pre-statehood Oklahoma. Skullyville, a once-thriving Choctaw community, was destroyed by land-grabbers, culminating in the arson on New Year’s Eve, 1896, of New Hope Academy for Girls. Twenty Choctaw girls died, but Rose escaped. She is blessed by the presence of her grandmother Pokoni and her grandfather Amafo, both respected elders who understand the old ways. Soon after the fire, the white sheriff beats Amafo in front of the town’s people, humiliating him. Instead of asking the Choctaw community to avenge the beating, her grandfather decides to follow the path of forgiveness. And so unwinds this tale of mystery, Indian-style magical realism, and deep wisdom. It’s a world where backwoods spiritualism and Bible-thumping Christianity mix with bad guys; a one-legged woman shop-keeper, her oaf of a husband, herbal potions, and shape-shifting panthers rendering justice. Tim Tingle—a scholar of his nation’s language, culture, and spirituality—tells Rose’s story of good and evil with understanding and even laugh-out-loud Choctaw humor.  — Cover images and summaries via Goodreads



Finally got around to dying my hair!! This time I went for a pink, yellow and blue combo, which looks totally different depending on how its worn. When its down the yellow section is basically hidden, so this hair has kind of a secret rainbow that I can bust out whenever I’m in the mood to be super colourful, hehe :)

Products used:
PINK: Alfaparf Jeans Colour ‘Pink’ (diluted with conditioner)
BLUE: DARE ‘Dolphin Dreams’
YELLOW: Fudge Paintbox ‘Yellow Fever’

How I did it:

  1.  First I sectioned my hair into the different colour areas, ensuring that the partings between the sections were nice and straight. I clipped each of them to keep them separate. A third of my fringe and roughly 1.5cm of the front of my hair next to my fringe were sectioned off for the blue. For the yellow the underneath area of hair above my ear (its hard to describe, but I parted my hair halfway down my head and sectioned off the area from there down over my ear). The rest of my hair was allocated to the pink dye.
  2. Then I mixed/prepared my dyes. When dying multiple colours, having them ready to go beforehand makes it much easier!!
  3. I dyed the blue areas at the front and in the fringe first.
  4. Next I applied the pink dye. I held the bulk of the hair up above my head and using the brush applied dye to the roots around the section first. Then I applied the pink dye to the rest of the section using both my hands and the brush, making sure to separate the section to ensure coverage all the way to the roots. I clipped this large section in place on top of my head in a rolled bun to keep it separate from touching any other coloured sections.
  5. Lastly, I applied the yellow.
  6. I left the dye on for 40 minutes - this is enough time that it will last a few washes, but won’t prove impossible to fade out of my hair when I want to change colours! 
  7. When rinsing my hair I used lukewarm water to preserve the colour, and firstly rinse the bulk of the dye off my hair each section at a time to stop any colour transferring. Then I rinsed my hair all over to get out any remaining dye.

I’ve had this bamboo stalk for almost 10 years now and it’s always been green and healthy but a few days ago I’ve noticed it started turning yellow and I don’t know how to fix it. :( I’ve recently changed the light bulb in my bedroom and it might be receiving slightly more light than usual ??? I don’t know if this is the cause, but it’s the only recent change I can think of. 


All my lovely super-talented colleagues from Big Hero 6 are sharing their sexy paintings and glamorous linework, so I thought I’d leap on the bandwagon like a socially awkward Quasimodo and wave my hair diagrams around.  These were done for most of the main characters so their hair could be built in 3D in a way that would behave realistically when put through the simulation process. Each clump of hair needed to be placed and plotted so the layers built up in a way that reflected Shiyoon’s designs. It was a challenge but kinda fun for all that … I won’t get to see how it turned out until January, when the film comes out in the UK, but I hear people like it, so that’s good.

All images © Disney

4. Teacher/Single Parent (with a surprising lack of school)

Alphas and Oranges

During his three decades of life, Arthur had found himself in a plethora of unbecoming situations. From inopportune heats to eyebrow plucking mishaps, he’d had his fair share of indignities. Crouching behind a crate of oranges in a supermarket to avoid an encounter with an Alpha, however, had to be the cherry on top of the cake.

If Amelia’s father would just bloody move, Arthur would be able to flee from the supermarket unnoticed. The man had been hovering around the vegetable section, rooting for the biggest potatoes, for the past five minutes, effectively blockading Arthur’s only escape route.

The Alpha turned to his six year old daughter and smiled, earnest and incandescent. At the sight of it, Arthur’s blood ignited and insides went warm and gooey.

He was the lowest of human beings for fancying his student’s father. Single father, he should add, or unmated at the very least. A hot single dad. What a cliché Arthur was for near salivating whenever he was in close proximity of the man.

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“As someone who doesn’t watch Person of Interest, I’ve been confused by why the pairing is so popular and have heard a lot of criticism of the show for portraying queer women as violent sociopaths/arguments that the relationship is abusive.”

I can’t believe I just read that with my own two eyes

high school orchestra AU by

by: @asleepinawell

  • so high school orchestra is basically a giant mass of Drama

  • all orchestra is really

  • you do not understand the amount of importance attached to what seat you are in orchestra unless you have lived it

  • also the bitter rivalries between sections
  • harold is obviously is a first violinist. first chair even. he is just THAT good

  • all the other violinists are jealous

  • except for carter

  • carter is harold’s stand partner. she keeps the section in line

  • there are no slackers in the first violin section unlike those hooligans in the second violin section

  • martine and lambert are both second violins

  • meanwhile you’ve got fusco and reese in the cello section

  • fusco is like a cello prodigy

  • the orchestra kids are in awe of him

  • he has no clue

  • reese may not be as good as fusco but he is steady as a rock

  • never gets lost

  • basically a human metronome

  • only occasionally misses an entrance because he’s making heart eyes at harold across the stands

  • harold doesn’t notice because he is very busy not getting caught looking at reese

  • what if reese finds out about his enormous crush on him?

  • harold would have to quit orchestra. possibly quit school

  • it would be THAT embarrassing

  • the whole thing is really pure and gay

  • and then there’s the viola section

  • violas: the butt of every orchestra joke ever. the most looked-down-upon musicians

  • root will fight you if you tell a viola joke near her. she’s heard them all

  • lambert tells them anyway

  • what’s the difference between a viola and an onion?

  • no one cries when you cut up a viola

  • root vows revenge right then and there

  • she’s first chair violist and she will not tolerate this disrespect against her section

  • her entire section is secretly terrified of her

  • she knows violas have a Reputation and she is here to make sure her section is beyond reproach

  • anyway

  • root is an amazing player but lately the viola section has been kind of off?

  • which is really weird? because root would never stand for that

  • even weirder but it seems like root is the one messing up

  • maybe it has something to do with the new bass player

  • sameen shaw was told to take orchestra instead of having a free period because it would look good on her college application

  • the conductor took one look at her and tried to give her a violin (he wouldn’t send a fresh recruit under root’s strict tutelage)

  • but shaw is like what the hell is this toy instrument i want that one

  • she points at a double bass

  • the conductor is all like i don’t think we have a bass small enough for you

  • shaw is not having this bullshit. she just stares coldly at the conductor until he decides to maybe go call a nearby school and see if they have a smaller bass he can borrow

  • shaw’s mom ends up buying her a bass once she’s been playing for a little while

  • shaw shows up to her first day in orchestra and root just totally fucking loses her shit

  • over-tightens her bow

  • drops her rosin and it cracks all over the floor

  • knocks all her music off her stand

  • shaw takes off her flannel shirt to play bass in just a tank top

  • root is too gay to handle this kind of attack

  • is shaw trying to kill her?

  • knocks her whole stand over right into the cello section

  • it’s awful

  • harold is anxiously peering over his stand to make sure reese didn’t get hurt by the whirlwind of sheet music

  • martine and lambert are snickering from the second violin section

  • root gets martine in the back of the head with her broken rosin when she’s not looking

  • shaw starts laughing and root is basically dead because omg she made sameen shaw laugh this is the best day of her little gay life

  • root tries to be real smooth and make a dirty orchestra joke to shaw after class to show how Cool she is

  • most orchestra jokes are really dirty and really terrible

  • seriously

  • except viola jokes. we don’t talk about those

  • moving on

  • she tries to make a joke about vibrato

  • in her mind it is the funniest shit ever and really filthy

  • shaw has literally just picked up a bass for the first time ever that day

  • has no clue what vibrato is

  • just sort of stares at root unsure what she’s supposed to say

  • she’s pretty sure root is hitting on her but no she doesn’t know what they say about girls who play finger vibrato

  • she leaves to go look it up online

  • root goes off to have a meltdown in one of the practice rooms

  • fusco has to go get her a bottle of water while carter pats her on the head

  • anyway shaw LOVES playing the bass

  • thinks it’s the most badass you can possibly get in a group of music nerds

  • also her arms looks great when she plays. she flexes a lot

  • root has not played a correct note in days

  • one day shaw catches root tuning martine’s violin down a half step before practice

  • root does this at least once a week

  • martine is totally tone-deaf anyway

  • root is ACTUALLY deaf in one ear and she plays in tune

  • martine is just Bad

  • root Suffers a little whenever she hears how extra out of tune martine is but it’s for the greater good

  • (she’s hoping to get martine kicked out)

  • shaw thinks this is brilliant

  • martine once told shaw the bass is a dumb unclassy instrument. shaw was not amused

  • the music room has those crappy metal folding stands and shaw starts loosening the clips on martine and lambert’s stand before class

  • as soon as they put music on it the whole stand sort of collapses

  • root sees her doing it

  • she’s basically in love

  • reese lends harold his tuning fork one day

  • harold messed up his solo twice that day

  • which is basically unheard of

  • carter is rolling her eyes at both of them

  • root offers to carry shaw’s bass for her once

  • basically falls over and gets squashed under it

  • shaw rolls her eyes

  • she is impressed with how root used her body to cushion the bass’s fall though

  • root has bruises all over but the bass is completely okay

  • shaw ends up carrying her bass and root’s viola case

  • root is so mortified that she fills lambert’s violin with glitter to take her mind off of it

  • (she hadn’t forgotten about that viola joke)

  • there is glitter everywhere in the music room for MONTHS

  • the conductor is thinking about retiring early

  • he doesn’t get paid enough for this

It happened in the winter some years after the fall of Corypheus, and a light snow had just begun to dust over the already frozen hills of Emprise du Lion.

Winter in Orlais.
Dorian would later think to himself, a terse pout drawn upon his sharp features.
It’s like a bad omen in itself.

Sightings of rogue Venatori agents dispersing themselves throughout southern Thedas had started cropping up. There were those out there that still believed in some disillusioned idea of grandeur to restore Tevinter to what it had once been, with or without a leader.

“Cut off the head, the serpent will flounder,” Leliana had hummed, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one hip. There were small crow markers placed haphazardly around the war room’s map. “They are disorganized and lost fighting for a cause they desperately hope will make sense to them as it once had.”

It was simple for the most part. Take out an operative here, a make-shift mercenary band there. Things the Inquisitor and his companions hardly blinked at.
In hindsight, maybe they shouldn’t have let their guards down so quickly.

They had tracked the few remaining agents to a secluded cave which weaved through the rugged landscape of Emprise du Lion.

Bull had gladly accepted the invitation. “You know I’m always game for tearing apart some vints, Boss. Let me give Krem the run down, and put him in charge of the boys while I’m out raising some hell.” The Qunari barked a laugh, slapping the Inquisitor’s shoulder in comradery before parting.

Cole was equally enthusiastic, a quick nod bobbing his large hat in front of his face. “Yes. These are bad, bad men… Roaring, ravaging, ripping flesh to ribbons like thin parchment paper as they smile wickedly, wrathful… It would be best to end this quickly.”

Dorian… Dorian needed coaxing. “Emprise du Lion? You do realize what it is you are asking of me?” He sniffed, shoving a thick tome back into one of the library’s many bookshelves a bit too forcefully.
“I’ll remind you. A frigid, unforgiving, wasteland that I am most likely to catch hypothermia and die a sad, cold death. It is without a doubt the last place the Maker created.” A beat. “By created, of course, I mean to say He took a shit in the middle of Orlais and named it after a lion.”

The Inquisitor huffed in amusement, a shy smirk pulled at his lips. “Sometimes I wonder why I like having you around so much, and then you go and remind me exactly what drew me to you in the first place.”

Dorian shared the smile, turning his head toward the man with a quirked brow, “Ahh, yes. My crude remarks do amuse that young boy’s sense of humor you seem to carry in that overgrown body of yours.”

“Do you sweet talk everyone like this?”

“Only the ones I plan on keeping around, Amatus.”

The Inquisitor extended his arm, running his palm along the side of Dorian’s short, cropped hair, and holding it there. Dorian leaned into the warmth, visibly relaxing from the touch alone. His eyes slipped shut, a somewhat defeated sigh escaping his lips.

“Isn’t there anyone else you could take? Another mage perhaps?”

“They wouldn’t be you.”

A sharp exhale left Dorian’s nostrils, that hint of a smile graced his features again. “Very true.”

When it was all said and done, they were mid-battle in the very bowels of the snowy mountains.
Five Venatori agents.
Two archers, two armored tanks, and one mage.
This was the final battle.

The Inqusitor and Cole quickly dropped into stealth, slipping into the shadows just as Dorian dropped a barrier for the two rouges while The Iron Bull waited for their signal. Once the two assassins had successfully carved blades into the backs of the archers, Bull charged in with a cry to draw the armored agents onto himself.
Dorian continued casting barriers and supportive spells to further his companions’ heavy assault. Cole had managed to slip a blade between a weak armor plate in the back of one of the tanks, effectively subduing him enough for Bull to bring his axe down for one last blow. The pair quickly made haste to lock onto the other tank who the Inquisitor seemed to have dancing in circles as the bulkier enemy tried to find a hold on the quick rogue.

A grin flashed bright on Dorian’s face as he began preparing to cast another barrier around his companions. The brute of an agent was just about to fall from his wounds when the Inquisitor dropped to stealth out of the corner of Dorian’s casting range. No matter, after this agent fell… Wait. Wasn’t there another?

A mage. There had been a mage. Why hadn’t he seen the mage this entire fight? What could the agent possibly-

The smell of static and ozone hovered strongly in the air. He finished the barrier cast on Bull and Cole.  The short hairs on his forearms rose in panic, as if to warn him of what was to come next.


A shout. The Inquisitor’s voice, he realized too late, and then he was being forcibly shoved onto the cold dirt floor.
He rolled once, twice, before a sickeningly sharp crackling noise echoed around the cave’s hollow walls.
Dorian shook his head, willing his eyes to focus and his scrapped arms to hoist him up. It was just enough so that he could turn and see a stricken look of horror paint the agent’s face, that had previously been out of Dorian’s peripheral view, as Cole removed two daggers from his bloodied robes.

A sharp smirk slipped onto Dorian’s face.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, but was that shove so necessary, dear Inquisitor? I think you sprained my wrist,” Dorian noted with a soft chuckle, turning further so that the Inquisitor’s back was now in view.

The man’s posture hadn’t changed though. The Inquisitor was hunched slightly, knees bent and stance wide as if posed for attack. Two freshly bloodied daggers were still gripped in his palms.

The stench of electricity still hung heavy in the air as Dorian slowly lifted himself from the ground, taking a tentative step forward. He thought he heard Bull swear harshly under his breath off to the side.

“Inquisitor?” Dorian prompted once more, noticing a slight tremor run through the man’s arms.

Clink, Clink.

The daggers slipped from the Inquisitor’s clenched hands. As if a visible shudder traveled up the man’s spine, he dropped to his knees and fell forward enough to echo in the cave once more.


Dorian’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers as he nearly hurdled the few strides it took to drop down next to the man’s unmoving form. Dorian quickly took the Inquisitor in his arms, turning him over and cupping his face tenderly. His eyes darted across the jagged pattern zig-zagging and branching across the Inquisitor’s body like tree roots. There was a section of the man’s cloth top that had been burned off almost entirely which the harsh markings followed along the expanse of exposed skin.

The smell. The sound. It was all clicking together before Dorian’s horror-striken eyes.
The venatori agent had cast a lightening spell.
The agent meant to hit Dorian.
The Inquisitor noticed just a moment too late.
The Inquisitor pushed him.
The Inquisitor took the hit directly.
The Inquisitor saved his life, in place of his-

“Amatus! Love, please, can you hear me? Please say something, please I beg you, please!” Dorian’s voice had raised an octave in his panic. He distantly registered the sound of The Iron Bull’s heavy gait approaching, and a familiar, listless voice to his side.

“Fretful, fearful, falling… I am falling and I can not see the light. What has my foolishness cost me? What will become of me if he is… Dread, depression, despair, if he is dead?”

Dorian’s features had twisted into something painful as big, ugly tears rolled from his eyes.
“Cole! Stay out of my head!” Dorian snapped unthinking.
A beat.
A desperate idea.
“Can you hear him? Please, Cole, tell me what he’s saying! Please, I beg you.”

Dorian worried his lip harshly, cradling the unmoving man closer to his chest as if his own body heat would case the man to stir. 

The boy drew closer, blinking owlishly down from his wide-brimmed hat. Cole’s brow scrunched, focused, before his eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth, a strangled intake of breath the only noise to escape. He swallowed shallowly, his lip quivering, before trying again.

“I don’t hear anything.”

Dandelion Tincture- make your own


  • One of the best-known blood builders and purifiers available.
  • Safely reduces blood cholesterol.
  • Contains excellent levels of Vitamins A, C, D, and B complex as well as iron, magnesium, zinc, potassium, manganese, copper, choline, calcium, boron, and silicon.
  • Overweight people when shedding pounds can become too acidic. These acids in the blood are destroyed by dandelion. It also supports digestion of fats.
  • One of the best liver cleansers. It increases the activity of the liver and the flow of bile into the intestines.
  • The flow of bile is a laxative which speeds the breakdown of various steroid hormones and indirectly has a favorable effect on eczema and skin breakouts.
  • Contains all the nutritive salts for the blood. Dandelion restores and balances the blood so anemia that is caused by deficiencies of these blood salts disappears.
  • Helps flush and clean out the urinary tract from the kidneys to the bladder.
  • The herb to build energy and endurance and fantastic for too-low blood pressure.
  • It is first-rate for use in hepatitis.
  • Increases activity of the pancreas and the spleen.
  • Strengthening for the female organs. Excellent to prepare for pregnancy and estrogen balance.
  • Helps clear skin disorders.

What You Need:

~ a big bowl and gloves for gathering dandelion roots
~ 2 year-old, actively-growing dandelion roots dug from a spray-free, pet-free yard
~ a spade or small shovel to loosen soil from the roots
~ canning jar with tight fitting lid
~ vodka, 80 proof is fine


~ wash off the soil thoroughly, remove any crushed roots, and leave root hairs
~ chop the roots into 1/2″ sections
~ place roots into the canning jar, cover with vodka plus an inch or so, and cap jar
~ steep contents for 3-4 months in a dark cool cabinet to fully extract medicinal properties
~ during this period, shake the jar 2-3 times a week to thoroughly mix contents
~ when finished, strain off the tincture with coffee filter, etc. into amber bottles and label
~ discard the exhausted root pieces

Homemade Dandelion Tincture, vodka, root, steeping, extracting medicinal value of herb, herbal remedy

I save my bottles, rewashing them by hand

Homemade Dandelion Tincture, dark amber bottles, dropper bottle, herbal remedy, DIY

Dosage: Dosage for dandelion tincture is ½ teaspoon 3-4 times per day for the root or leaf. Tinctures can be taken directly under the tongue and held in the mouth for a short time then swallowed, in a small amount of water, or in hot water to evaporate off the alcohol. When stored in a cool dark place extracts have a shelf life of five to seven years.

I store all the un-bottled tinctures tightly sealed in a dark corner of the old pie safe which isn’t in direct sunlight. Remember to label and date your final product.

* Use dandelion with caution if you have gallbladder disease. Never use dandelion if you have an obstructed bile duct.

go anywhere you want me to

A missing scene from the good ol’ days of season one, where our favourite co-leaders didn’t have all that much to worry about except hallucinogenic nuts and the occasional temper tantrum from one of the delinquents. Dedicated to @feminist14er , whose amazing fics were one of the many reasons I fell into this fandom. Have an amazing birthday lovely, and I hope you like this! x 


Bellamy Blake makes it a point to not pay attention to Clarke Griffin, unless he has to.

It’s bad enough that he has to co-parent a whole brood of helpless, hormonal teenagers with her. He refuses, based on principle and principle alone, to become friends with her. She has plenty of those anyway, with spacewalker hanging onto her every word and the wonder twins following her around like lost, overly-eager fawns.

But she’s been sneezing uncontrollably for the past hour or so, wiping her nose on that dirty, grimy sleeve of hers and it’s disgusting

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls, making sure to inject extra venom in there lest she mistakes it for concern.

(It’s not like he’s worried or anything, it’s just goddamned unhygienic, that’s all.)

Clarke sniffles, manages a pitiful, “I think I might have the flu.”

Keep reading

frito-lay-official-deactivated2  asked:

shoot, marching band au, full, at competition vs samaritan, please and thanks!

[start at the beginning]

  • motherfucking samaritan
  • motherfucking samaritan with their brand new uniforms every year
  • they even have two sets
  • on for when it’s day and another for night shows
  • they pay top dollar for the best drill and music writers, and even have their own grass field to practice on
  • it’s nicer than the football team’s tbh
  • all the thornhill kids hate them on sight
  • when martine was…removed due to her injury, she quit band
  • and transferred to decima academy
  • she’s their drum major now, because she couldn’t march with a broken leg
  • she ended up loving it and the sense of power it gave her because martine is a fucking garbage can
  • decima and thornhill don’t see each other during competitions, as the two school are juuuuust too far away from each other to face off in local region and area competitions
  • but at state?
  • you bet your ass shit goes down
  • the first year after martine leaves the rivalry grows even stronger
  • ms thornhill has never seen the bus so quiet
  • it takes four hours to get to the stadium, and there’s barely a peep
  • just a bunch of kids staring holes into their sheet music, determinedly practicing counts and and turns and stops
  • she can her the clicks of slides and keys and the quiet puffs of air and it’s like a silent symphony
  • on the drumline bus, you can hear the quick and precise taps on practice pads and the subtle shifting melody of the base line
  • the parents and volunteers have never seen anything like it
  • the get off the bus and unpack their instruments
  • march in perfect lines over to the practice field and begin to warm up
  • harper doesn’t murmur a single innuendo, and root doesn’t trip over anyone’s instrument case
  • it’s truly a sight to behold
  • they stretch and do a few practice runs on some of the more difficult sets, and before they know it, it’s time to enter the field for prelims
  • samaritan goes ahead of them, of course
  • shaw and the rest of the drumline lead the way, and she watches samaritan’s show with a critical eye
  • it’s edgy, sure, with deep troubling undercurrents against a powerful high brass and near shrieking woodwinds
  • the percussion seems to whip in and out of the movements, both sinister and overpowering at times
  • all in all, it’s very angry and vengeful, and very VERY good
  • shaw chews a little more aggressively on her chip strap, the only outward sign of her nervousness
  • all too soon, the show is over, and our favorite marching band kiddos take the field
  • it’s a solid run, one of the best they’ve ever had
  • the drum break is flawless, the lines are crisp and pristine, and joss’s saxophone solo will be spoken of for years to come
  • when they regroup outside near the buses to change out of their uniforms to eat and recharge, ms thornhill congratulates them on an amazing performance before hurrying off to grab the results and commentary for their prelims run
  • there’s a quiet nervous energy in the air
  • a few try to start halfhearted conversation, but the group always returns to uncomfortable silence after a couple sentences
  • dani squeezes the fuck out of harper’s hand, clearly anxious as hell, and harper really wishes she had a joint right about now
  • joss paces anxiously, and not even a congratulatory text from zoe can ease her worries
  • john has resigned himself to leaning against the bus to watch harold’s hands flutter nervously around his clarinet
  • root and shaw are in their customary uniform appropriate huddle; shaw leaning back into root’s chest, root long arms wrapped around her to keep her calm
  • and then: the results
  • second place in prelims
  • there’s pride and joy, of course, but also disappointment
  • because those bitch ass samaritan motherfuckers placed first
  • the judges loved their show, and felt that the marching aspect was flawless, but they felt that the message wasnt quite clear
  • “those pompous old dickwads don’t understand jack shit unless you spell it out on the field for them.”
  • “language, sameen.” ms thornhill quips. “but you’re right. i have no complaints about your performance this afternoon. play your hearts and souls out as you always do, and they’ll have no choice but to give you the ranking you truly deserve.”
  • harold asks if there’s anything they need to work on before their final performance tonight because he’s still a giant nerd
  • she shakes her head. “take the next hour to relax. you’ve earned it. no amount of practice is going to make our show any more perfect than it was earlier.”
  • the kids are stunned, but they try to relax as much as possible
  • “no harper, that does NOT mean you get to smoke now” joss hisses before harper can even reach into her uniform pocket
  • “fun killer” harper hisses right back
  • shaw suddenly pulls out of root’s embrace
  • “sweetie?”
  • “i just…i have to ask ms thornhill about the uh–the drum break. i’ll be right back.” shaw calls over her shoulder, running after their director
  • shaw’s a terrible liar, and she’s totally up to something, but root’ll let her get away with it
  • for now
  • shaw’s gone a long time, and root makes her way over to where john is still dramatically leaning against the bus
  • “hey big lug.”
  • john nods. “hey future sister in law.”
  • root hides her blush by leaning her head on john’s shoulder
  • “root?”
  • “shaw’s been gone a while.”
  • “getting lonely?”
  • root snorts, “never /that/ lonely.”
  • john nudges her a little bit. “don’t worry about it.”
  • root gives him a flat look that clearly says Have You Ever Met Me
  • “trust shaw then” he says
  • he’s got a good point, not that she’ll ever tell him that
  • shaw comes back just as everyone is getting back into formation, fiddling with her phone as she walks
  • “where’d you go?” root asks softly
  • shaw glances around and gives root a quick kiss
  • joss’s eye twitches
  • shaw flips her off
  • “just had something to take care of, root. don’t worry about it. we have asses to kick.”
  • “we’re talking about this later, sameen.”
  • “i look forward to it.”
  • and then holy shit they’re taking the field
  • distantly, the kids hear “and now, it’s time for long time favorite, t. m. thornhill high school!”
  • they ready themselves to hit their first note as the announcer prattles on
  • “…and finally, a final note that failed to make it into out prelims announcement!”
  • he pauses to see if anyone laughs at the music pun
  • harper and root crack tiny smiles on the field
  • fucking losers
  • “this year, the t. m. high school marching band has decided to dedicate their show to one of their own! first chair and section leader root…root was hospitalized in a marching related accident, and was left partially deaf due to her injuries…”
  • root freezes and tears begin to form in her eyes
  • “…has been a driving force and role model for the rest of her marching band!”
  • she’s not gonna cry
  • she’s nOT
  • then everyone ripples their instrument to face her, almost like a giant band salute
  • (then she fucking cries)
  • “and without further delay, i am proud to once more give you the t. m. high school marching band!”
  • and then it’s like a musical explosion
  • a rebirth
  • they scatter drill to form intricate lines
  • their form is flawless, arcs perfect
  • it’s not like samaritan’s show
  • it’s subtle
  • it’s a tale of loss and despair, denial and anger
  • but slowly and surely the anger fades into an eerie silence
  • dani stands alone on the field and delivers a plaintive and beautiful trumpet solo
  • gradually the rest of the band joins her and surrounds her in series of protective circles
  • they orbit her while adding their own musical voices to inspire hope
  • hope for happiness, for a better future
  • as they hold their last pose, and the crowds begins to scream, ms thornhill wipes a single tear from her cheek
  • they did it
  • they really fucking /did it/
  • the makes it off the field before root breaks ranks and sprints to the front of the formation where shaw is trying to lead the band back to the buses
  • but root has some giraffe legs and she catches up quicksly
  • “sameen shaw.”
  • “mm? what’s up babe, kinda busy here, leading the band and all.”
  • “/sameen/. /shaw/.” root repeats with a slight twich in her left eye
  • “root. root.”
  • “did you just. dedicate our entire show to me?”
  • “i guess it could possibly be construed to look like that, yeah.”
  • “sameen.”
  • “i mean it was more for the band–”
  • “sameen. sweetie.”
  • “–those judges couldnt see the point of the show if i shoved it up their asses and–”
  • “honey.”
  • “and like it wasn’t even i big deal i dont know why–”
  • root shoves her trombone into some poor freshman snare drummer’s hands and then grabs shaw’s drums and hands them off to some random flute player
  • root pulls her into a kiss so hard shaw thinks she sees entire galaxies
  • (the band continues to march around them, of course)
  • (”band stops for no man, ms shaw”)
  • (root flips harold off while still making out with shaw)
  • (”carter, still forever suffering, hisses “fucking /amateurs/” as she marches past them)