lies:Favourite Colour – Spc Eco

Thursday, October 12th, 2017

lies:

Favourite Colour – Spc Eco

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halfagony-halfhope: Favorite Moments from: The Lydia Bennet

Friday, August 4th, 2017

halfagony-halfhope:

Favorite Moments from: The Lydia Bennet

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poebodysnerfect: Perhaps the answer has been under our nose the…

Wednesday, June 28th, 2017

poebodysnerfect:

Perhaps the answer has been under our nose the whole time. Edgar Allan Poe: writer of Gothic prose and cold-blooded killer!

Poe Party rewatch [78/-]

Chapter 9: The Sleeper

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juliagraham: the lizzie bennet diaries meme:seven costume…

Sunday, June 11th, 2017

juliagraham:

the lizzie bennet diaries meme:

seven costume theater moments; lydia!mr. bennet/lizzie/jane and ricky!mrs. bennet/darcy/bing – episode 37
“Rule number one about Lizzie’s diaries, they’re Lizzie’s diaries. She sees what she wants to see, now stay in character!”

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madamextravels: Madame discovers that JSS is painting another…

Wednesday, September 14th, 2016

madamextravels:

Madame discovers that JSS is painting another portrait of an LBD-clad lady.

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dorkly: The True Power of Force Ghosts

Wednesday, January 6th, 2016

dorkly:

The True Power of Force Ghosts

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This Unpronounceable, 12-Letter-Long Acronym Might Just Save the World

Sunday, December 20th, 2015

This Unpronounceable, 12-Letter-Long Acronym Might Just Save the World:

I’m pretty sure the world will still be here whether or not CBDRILONCWRC turns out to be anything more than a punchline. Human societies organized at their current scale and without a shared experience of recent collapse and megadeath: that’s more of an open question.

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Video

Wednesday, October 21st, 2015

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The Mediocre Chair

Wednesday, July 15th, 2015

icarus-suraki:

wasteland-scraps:

i-heart-war-boys:

EDIT: Based on this post  written by hellonorik

It wasn’t so bad when his legs stopped working. He could still work the turrets, still throw a thunderstick, still go out in a blaze of historic glory with the rest of his brothers. But when the lumps and bumps made his good arm go all tingly and limp, Nails knew he was going to die soft, the gates of Valhalla forever closed to him.

The war drums sounded. Nails tried to ignore how his heart beat in time with them, adrenaline coursing through his veins in preparation for a battle he wouldn’t fight, couldn’t even witness. He closed his eyes and accepted the darkness. There would be no shiny chrome eternity for him.

Someone flicked the side of his head. Nails opened his eyes, blinking from the glare of the harsh light. His driver, Chuck, was standing over him.

“Wake up ya lazy smeg! Can’tcha hear the drums? We gotta go do war!” 

Nails wanted to tell him to go away, remind him that he was no good, far too soft now to do war, but Chuck was already sliding strong arms under his and hauling him to his feet. Stint was there too, mad grin on his face. The war drums always got the gunner worked up into a frenzy. 

The two war boys got on either side of Nails and together the they made their way to the vehicle bay.

“We made you a spot, a lookout post, special on the side of the rig,” Stint was saying, nodding his head with ever word. “Calling it the mediocre chair on account of you always being so mediocre. Remember when you dropped that thundestick and almost took out the war rig? Thought Furiosa was going to turn you into boots.” 

He did remember, but now…

“And that time when you tripped and pushed Rown right into that buzzard car? Kid’s still picking metal out of his teeth.” Chuck was shaking his head, smiling. “You’re a real crap war boy, Nails, but you’re our crap war boy and we’ll get you to Valhalla yet.” 

Nails felt his heart do something funny in his chest, like the lumps and bumps were grabbing hold of it and squeezing. If they were, he didn’t care. They were war boys, kami-crazy war boys, and they would grab the sun together or die trying.

EDIT: wasteland-scraps will surely want to see this!

Oh my. 

You guys ;_;

I don’t usually reblog fic but oh holy v8, y’all…!

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“Each of us is given only so many mornings to do it — to look around and love the oily fur of our…”

Tuesday, December 30th, 2014

“Each of us is given
only so many mornings to do it —
to look around and love

the oily fur of our lives,
the hoof and the grass-stained muzzle.
Days I don’t do this

I feel the terror of idleness,
like a red thirst.
Death isn’t just an idea.”

Mary Oliver, from “The Deer,” House of Light (via lifeinpoetry)

Reposted from http://lies.tumblr.com/post/106667225311.