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(Source: dduane)

" Nice Woman is Rejected Multiple Times. Does Not Gain Homicidal Urges. "

- potential Onion headline (via pansexualpagan)

(via kindredspiritsandgoodomens)

Ming Na Wen and Brett Dalton at the SDCC 2014 Press Line

(Source: manquant, via kindredspiritsandgoodomens)

if plastic is made from oil and oil is made for in part dead dinosaurs compressed over millions of years are plastic dinosaurs part real dead dinosaurs

Asked by Anonymous

edwardspoonhands:

Possibly…but probably not. Oil is indeed old, heated organic matter…but the vast majority of organic matter back then (and now) is vegetative. So, probably, plastic dinosaurs are made from dead algae and ferns and stuff. But occasionally a dinosaur (or more likely an early dinosaur-like thing, because I think most of this took place pre-permian) would probably have slipped in their as well so…one can dream.

dduane:

thyartisdisney:

LABRATHOR

"Worthy."

You will write Moving! fics for one favorite character from Discworld and/or Matthew Swift verse. As in Samantha Vimes moving in with Saul (as a variety of steps or all in one go) or Matthew/Angels helping Penny or Kelly with a move... (Hope that helps)

Asked by nandineed

seiya234:

It was a week before their wedding and Samantha Vimes was getting ready to move into a man’s house.

Well, not just any man, but her fiancé, Saul Ramkin.[1]

She wasn’t intimidated by moving into a nob’s house[2][3], she thought to herself as she rooted under her bed, but she was a little worried about adjusting to living with someone again. She had been on her own since her mother died and….

There! Vimes wiggled from out under the bed with what she was looking for. It was an old, moth eaten, carpetbag, and it was one of the few things that her mother had left her.[4][5]

Three minutes later and she was done packing. She sat on her stiff bed one more time and looked around.  There was a smell of sour beer that still hadn’t gone away, even though she hadn’t touched a drop since she started seeing Saul.  She left the linens and the mirror-they had come with the room and the next person in here would use them-but it was odd, to realize that she had spent almost two decades living in this room.

Two decades of her life, and what she had to show for most of it was-she looked in her bag-the dress her mother made her, another two dresses that her mother owned that she had managed to keep from the sonky shops, a small cup, her razor[6], two or three tin pot medals for years of service before the Watch stopped bothering with that altogether, and a few other small things.

Things were turning around, things were, dare she say it, looking up. She had a good man, she was off the sauce[7], and the Watch was turning around as well.

But in this room with the smell that reminded her she had spent the last twenty years puking and pissing her wages into the gutter.

Ironically, she was feeling the urge to have a drink right now, to forget for one last night and-

No.

She had made her mistakes, and they were big fucking mistakes, but that was behind her now.

She picked up her bag, blew out the lamp, and headed out of her old home one last time.

——-

[1] And my wasn’t that odd sounding coming from her mouth? She never thought she would get married, and the two or three times she thought about things like that, she usually imagined it to be a quick affair, not the small, but respectable period of engagement that they had with an impending ceremony…gods.

[2] It wasn’t a problem with Saul-Vimes’ brain broke at the idea of Saul treating anyone with less than perfect kindness and decency. No, the problem she knew she would run into would be other nobs and the people working at Ramkin Manor.[3]

[3] 20 or more years of run-ins with the gentry of Ankh-Morpork had taught Vimes that the staff could be just as much snobs as the actual nobs themselves.

[4] She had asked her mother once why they had a carpetbag, with “since we’re too poor to even go to the other side of town” implied within the question. Mary Vimes looked off for a minute before saying, “Your father promised a lot of things.”[5]

[5] And even when those promises had turned to ashes and dust in her mother’s mouth, neither could she bring herself to get rid of the bag.

[6] Samantha Vimes was not a vain woman, but she did like to shave her legs. She blamed her mother for starting her on it.

[7] That was a good thing godsdamnit and she was going to keep reminding herself of that fact. 

Swindled into this by seiya234

You can tell a lot about someone by the music they listen to. Hit shuffle on your iPod/iPhone/iTunes/media player and write down the first 10 songs. Then pass this onto 10 people.

1. Wait a Minute - The Pussycat Dolls

2. Fanaa - OST Yuva (by AR Rahman, Sunitha Sarathy)

3. Kar Chalna Shuru Tu - OST Ek Main aur Ekk Tu (by Vishal Dadlani, Shilpa Rao)

4. Shauk Hai - OST Guru (by Somya Rao)

5. Manchala - OST Hasee Toh Phasee (by Shafqat Amanat Ali)

6. Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Glee Cast version

7. Headlock - Imogen Heap

8. Iktara (Male Version) - OST Wake Up Sid (by Tochi Raina)

9. Her Morning Elegance - Oren Lavie

10. Mangalayam - OST Saathiya (by K.K)

Hmm… I dont even know ten people… but let me try, sir-fleetfoot, jasjabberwocky, kindredspiritsandgoodomens, dragonflyamber

dduane:

A bottle-fed Siamese.