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Frost Flowers

As a result of imperfections in the surface ice, these spikey frost flowers are formed. They have been known to be a home for micro-organisms. They are very similar to coral reefs in that they are esentially an eco-system. A temporary eco system that will eventually melt.

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I can't believe we have been living in this world without Sir Terry for 10 years already 💔

“Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?”

― Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

GNU Terry Pratchett

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“I think it’s Francis, the worst one. A nasty piece of work. […]. That bastard’s so paranoid that if you were to casually ask him in a boozer if he remembers where he was when John Lennon was shot, he’d say that he was playing pool up The Volley and he had loads of witnesses.” – Filth, Irvine Welsh

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This is one of, if not, my favorite scene in T2 Trainspotting

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The Bookworm and her Fluffy Pillow

Commission.

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Random Detective Weaver gif drop because I'm currently on season 7 of my latest OUAT rewatch and I am losing all sense of control

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Trainspotting + Tv Tropes : Francis "Franco" Begbie ( Renton | Sick Boy | Spud )

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So do you stick it in and then take a puff? What are the logistics

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Begbie in T2 Trainspotting

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An Ever-Fixed Mark | Chapter 3

Rating: E

Pairing: Plunkelle (Belle x Will Plunkett, from Plunkett and Macleane)

Summary: The widowed Lady Belle desires nothing more than freedom. When her father brings her to London in an attempt to find her a new husband, she instead meets a highwayman who could use a woman on the inside.

Read from the beginning

(PLS NOTE there is a video uploaded on the previous chapter for real now xD)

——————————

When Plunkett had first gotten a pistol, cleaning it had been a chore. Now, he looked forward to the repetitive motion, the satisfaction of swabbing out dust, the sound of a well-packed chamber. It was also a welcome distraction from Macleane reading about them in the paper.

“Jolly good.” Macleane tossed the newspaper between them, and Plunkett regretted getting him such a nice dressing gown. He looked like a prick laying in bed in his gown with a wine glass, reading.

“Aye, and next time, don’t fucking flirt.” Plunkett wiped the barrel with a cloth, taking care to rub off any smudges, but then the paper caught his eye. “Anything else in there?” 

“Nothing important,” Macleane said, but he picked it up at Plunkett’s glare. “Let’s see. ‘Parliament is expected to vote,’ blah blah blah, ‘Lady Estelle Darcy seen favoring,’ yadda yadda, ‘Lord Avonlea collapsed—’”

“What?” Plunkett’s head snapped up. 

Macleane frowned at him. “Lady Estelle Darcy favored Chez Pierre’s wigmakers. Are you looking for a new wig?”

“Not that one, idiot. Lord Avonlea.” 

Read on AO3

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Beauty and the Beast [x]

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Mmmm…

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