(Source: invocado, via lobsterwarrior)

Tags: PUSS

marshalsandoutlaws:


Charles had coloured deeply.
'That is a dream and I fear must remain so.'

"Fire Down Below" by William Golding from "To the Ends of the Earth" 

marshalsandoutlaws:

Charles had coloured deeply.

'That is a dream and I fear must remain so.'

"Fire Down Below" by William Golding from "To the Ends of the Earth" 

magicmadzik:

Hms Victory firing a broadside. Holy crap.

(Source: magicmattie)

graphitedoll:

well Hans, i guess 11/12 isn’t… that… bad…

at least he didn’t listen to Shang:

(via dornishsphinx)

Tags: hahahahaha

(Source: ldiditforme, via sopwithsloth)

"

'Are you all right, Philip?' cried Jack, loud although the tumult had quite died away.

Broke nodded. His skull was bared - white bone through the blood and perhaps still worse, with more blood welling from his ears. His coxswain tied a handkerchief over the shocking wound, and they sat him on a carronade-slide.

'Look aft, Philip,' said Jack in his ear. 'Look aft - she's yours. I give you joy.' He pointed aft, where the American colours were coming down. Watt was striking them. But now they were rising again, the white ensign undermost as if in defiance. To those in the Chesapeake it was clear that Watt had twisted the halliards. They shouted to him but he did not hear and the last gun from the Shannon roared out, scattering the small party on the Chesapeake's quarterdeck and indeed killing Watt in his triumph and several of his men.

Broke stared from side to side, not fully comprehending: he fumbled for his watch, looked at it, and said, ‘Fifteen minutes, start to finish. Drive them all down into the hold.’

But now at last the colours rose again in their due order, soaring to the mizen-peak. Cheering, wild cheering fore and aft from the Shannon, and through the noise Jack cried again, ‘Philip, look aft. She’s yours - she’s yours. I give you joy of your victory.’

This time Broke understood. He looked hard at the white ensign against the pure blue sky, the proof of his victory; he focused his dazed eyes; a sweet smile showed on his bloody face, and he said very quietly, ‘Thank you, Jack.’

"

The Fortune of War, Patrick O’Brian

experimentalgentleman:

verecunda:

experimentalgentleman:

Texts from the Endeavour.

(I’m so sorry I don’t know what possessed me)

I am laughing so hard I can’t find the reblog button :D :D

I don’t even get the “texts from” thing…

Then I have achieved something this week, at least. XD

No, but how does it work? Are these real texts you paste on to pictures? What do the numbers mean?

The texts are from Texts From Last Night, (allegedly) real texts that people have received and submitted to the site. Then people had the genius idea of using them for fandom parodies. XD The numbers, I think, are the area codes from where each text was sent.

she-walksin-starlight:

verecunda:

she-walksin-starlight:

Yeah but someone explain to me why there aren’t any Horatio Nelson/ Thomas Hardy fics

cos I’m rubbish at finishing things, that’s why. :P

Well bless you for beginning them anyway :D

If you’re desperate *cough*, I do have two wee fluffy pieces posted on AO3. Weathering the Storm was written for a prompt on the HH fic meme, while The Nile Medal is more straightforward historical RPF. :)

experimentalgentleman:

Texts from the Endeavour.

(I’m so sorry I don’t know what possessed me)

I am laughing so hard I can’t find the reblog button :D :D

I don’t even get the “texts from” thing…

Then I have achieved something this week, at least. XD

(Source: verecunda)

sommartidsvarmod:

William Beckford, by George Romney(1781-82)

sommartidsvarmod:

William Beckford, by George Romney
(1781-82)

(via lobsterwarrior)