suddenly... i ship it


*catapults my canoe into the midst of the navy fleet of Sheith war ships* 

Is this like… not a thing or… 

Well, what a sight



‘’Doffy!’’- well, hehe, nicely played Oda, but you won’t -

!!!1!!1 THEEERE WE GO, he’s finally making me guiltily ship this for real.


If you and I planned ships and plots, and you suddenly went AWOL or on hiatus out of the blue, I WILL NOT ABANDON OUR SHIPS AND PLOTS. 


I understand that you have a life outside, and that, there are things in life that would get in the way. I won’t be the type of RP partner who will abandon a partner. When you come back, rest assured that you’ll have something to return to. 


*leaves this here and runs away*

on hair, and the ocean

When it first begins to grown in white, he thinks he must be imagining it.

Actually, he doesn’t think much of anything. Everything is distant, the salt and the sea sound a constant lull, just loud enough to drown his thoughts, as if he might himself fall into the endless rush of noise and water and never surface.

But there is still, somewhere, a distant part of him that looks at the pale, bleached roots of his hair and thinks, I’m finally going mad.

He leaves it at that, at first. He’s lost everything else; his sanity was sure to go at some point.

That’s what he would tell himself, anyways, if he could hear his own thoughts above the waves. The sailors aboard say it was luck they found him, but Percy wonders, when he has the clarity to wonder, if perhaps he was not seeking out something more overwhelming that grief and guilt, and what is there more vast and demanding than the ocean?

The captain notes it first, an idle comment during a lull in the wind that drives them. They sit stranded in some clear, calm harbor he has long-since forgotten the name of, if ever he knew it. “Going grey there, lad,” says the man, voice low and deep and steady as the ocean. “White, even.”

“Yes,” Percy tells him. Proof, then. Either he has gone mad enough to imagine conversations––which has happened, yes, but only in dreams; only with monsters and shadows and never living men––or it is true. He brushes a hand through his hair, grown long and unruly during his time upon the ship. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

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You know he muerto

I´ve finally fully devoted myself to draw some Klance ( Because I ship it as hard as Lance is right now! ), and here it is for all your thirsty needs! 

I bet this has been done before but the Palpatine meme was a must to draw :D (The thirst is strong with this one)

Plus I´m pretty sure that Lance has a soft spot for everyone that talks to him in spanish… And a soft spot as well for that toned body indeed ;P