I’ve always loved Will’s split second face of “Barbossa? What the fuck? When was he an option?!”
this looks like a cover of a murder mystery book
“No more kitten around”… I can’t.
mock-up of a princess vs princess page
shoujo style spontaneous flowers GO
…i’m feeling this
I LOVE THIS COMIC
It’s Tigger on the inside.
bursts into tears
The wonderful thing about Tiggers is
That I’m the only one.
YOU ALL NEED TO FUCKING STOP
tears of blood
STOP YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP
Not a potty joke for once
In Britain we let those AUBERGINES live once we heal them with our FREE HEALTH CARE
NOBODY CARES, ENGLAND
at least America came up with their own word and didn’t steal ours
you used the wrong flag France
Hey! Hey, guys! Canada likes eggplants - or aubergine - what ever you want to call it - too!
Can we be included in this!?
Tumblr is the only place I can think of where a picture of an eggplant turns into a battle between countries.
I can never not reblog this post
He described himself as a “Professional Muse,” which caused me to laugh a bit. But he wasn’t smiling: “I give people guidance,” he said, “I’m going now to meet my first client of the new year.”
I didn’t want to ask more questions, because some things are better left a mystery.
Can this man please be a character.
no omg can he be a character holy shit
There was no contract, no one ever hired him, no fees were ever discussed. He simply arrived when needed and left when he wished.
The bag was empty.
Yet when he sauntered in (never knocking, never needing anyone to unlock the door and always knowing exactly how to navigate the house he’d just entered), setting his fedora on the coat-rack that was there regardless of whether there had been one before his entrance or not and straightening his fur lined coat with a flourish of his gloved hands THEY were suddenly there.
The words, the notes, the design, whatever it was his new client needed, like a glorious flood, and all they had to do was be fast enough to catch them as they crashed about their minds.
And it was then, and only then, as his client would rush around in euphoria, CREATING.
Only then did he smile.
It was soft and easily reached his eyes as he sat sipping the tea that had not been there a moment before, watching as they worked, chuckling lightly as they frantically scrabbled to find their favorite pen or the charger or paint brush.
Then - after minutes, or hours, or days, and whether his new client was finished or not - he would quietly stand.
Cross the room to his bag.
And snap it shut.
With one final nod he would place his hat back on his head (the coat-rack vanishing if it had not been there to begin with) and calmly saunter out just the way he had come.
I love everything about this.
OMG Luigi’s Mansion for game cube good time’s. I will never forget the day to save Mario. (Fluttershy mansion only for the my little pony Friendship is magic)