My Grandmas Fuckin Hilarious Out Of Context.

i just wanna throw hands with somebody, punching biting, all that jazz and roll around on the floor until we're tired and fall asleep leaning on each other.

like c'mon darlin, I'll be your punching bag if you'll be mine?

bonus points if we sit and patch each other up afterwards

something to add with the whole food motivation, yknow the ark when the crew are on an island full of bounty hunters that are literally tricking them and trying o kill them?

He legit fights his own second in command...because they fed him. Like, he full on ignores anything zoro is saying and is fighting him and getting all pissed off because they gave him food so they definitely cant be trying to hurt them.

i dunno if thats because luffy is just oblivious or what but he is definitely motivated by food lol

Luffy not wanting to be viewed as a hero is actually so important to me. Because while the first reasoning we get for this is him not wanting to share his food

We also learn later on that Luffy also doesn't want to be viewed as a savior, nor does he ever want to present himself as such. He doesn't want to be placed on a pedestal or (ironically) be deified by the people he helps.

At the end of Fishman island, he was fully ready to leave without fanfare because he did not want to be treated by the people in that way, and only agrees to stay because he is promised food. The same thing happens at the end of Wano, where he refuses to take any credit for the downfall of Kaido and instead simply enjoys the festival with everyone else.

I cannot overstate how much I love this decision for Luffy as a character. It is incredibly common for stories like Fishman Island and Wano to have the main character swoop in and save the oppressed people, with said character being to sole person to rally them and "teach" them how to fight back. We don't get that with Luffy.

In Fishman Island, he tells the people that its up to them to decide whether or not he is their friend or foe instead of swooping in playing the role of the hero. In Wano, he understands to importance of who begins the fight with Kaido, and stands back to let the Red Scabbards (Wano natives) get the first major hit on Kaido

Even in the prison when Luffy gives his speech, he is asking the people to let him help, to have faith that they and their country can be free again, to fight for the freedom that had been cruelly stripped away from them. And even then, it is Momo and members of the Red Scabbards that fully restore the Udon prisoners faith.

Hell, we even see this all the way back in Arlong Park, where Luffy waits to take action until Nami asks him for help. He doesn't come in guns blazing and save her like some sort of white knight, but instead waits for Nami's go ahead, placing the power in her hand.

It's just such a refreshing way of seeing a protagonist in this type of story be portrayed. To have him understand the importance of the people he fight's side by side with, and not place himself as the fixer of all problems, but rather as an aid to these people (often times an aid that they explicitly asked for). It actively rejects the white savior/white knight trope(s) and allows for the people native to the island to have agency in these large battles instead of being sidelined. It is their lives and stories that are centered as being the most important in these moments, and Luffy is simply there to help them.

A short snippet of that fic

i did a poll ages ago for what kinda story i should do....the results said the majority of you wanted street racing au (car) Ghost x male reader (motorbike)

it's probably gonna take me a bit since i want to do some proper research into what cars and bikes but here's a little snippet, this might not make it into the final draft though.

The white light from the streetlights illuminate the road while the thunderous sounds of engines fill the air. One one side of you there's your fellow biker, her electric blue streaks popping in the dark of the night, on the other side of you there's a car. You glance over curiously which is when you notice....it's ghost...the fucking masked bastard who always wins, well not for long if you have anything to do about it. You grin under your helmet as you lean over, tapping the window of his car. He looks over and for a moment you think he has no eyes. bloody hell, his eyes were almost soulless. You shake that thought away, grinning under your helmet as you raise your hand and make a 'professional' and 'mature' gesture (you made the wanking gesture)

The flag girls begin their countdown.

"THREE!"

" TWO!"

"ONE!"

theres a pause

"GO!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

let me know if you wanna be tagged or if there's any mistakes :]

Immortal souls

I know i should be writing my other fics but...i got a new idea so here, have some scraps

Simon and you who were bonded a long time ago, long before kings and knights. You spent your childhood together and grew up eating fruits off of trees from strangers land and it wasn't long until love blossomed just as the flowers on the trees did

However, flowers dont last forever and neither does love...or does it?

War breaks out in your small and isolated haven, both you and Simon tried to escape but the enemy was relentless.

it wasn't long until you sat there on the mossy bed of the forest, the smoke of your village being set ablaze slowly inching closer just as the claws of death were grasping for you and simon.

Unfortunately for you it turns out you're immortal, you dont know how and dear god you've tried to find out how.

Whatever cruel curse had been put upon you and simon that night, it took a while for you to figure it out but you seem to be immortal while Simon....simon wasn't, but don't fret, he got revived eventually. However his memories were long gone, barely being lost in time because you cling so desperately to them.

And now you stood in front of your one and only true love, time to relieve this hearwrenching cycle until the cruel gods take mercy on your human souls. Except...it's no longer your Simon, it's ghost now, even more broken than the last incarnation you saw of him. He speaks up, oh how accents have changed over time.

"sorry...who are you?"

should i make this into a proper fic?

happy birthday garret :]🎃

Every january goth couples are fucking hard to try and have a halloween baby they're gonna name ophelia or some shit

bro no-one told me how much of a pain in the ass it is to make an ao3 account💀

i gotta wait until the 18th of January to get an invitation???

is it like some high class secret club or somethin? what happened to signing up normally?

is it bcz it's a non profit thing? idk I've never really done much on it other than to read without an account but then i keep losing everything I've read😔

one of my favourite tropes or whatever you call it, is when someone can't sleep/struggles to sleep every night and then they finally meet someone and they sleep peacefully for once>>>>

Thomas shelby x male reader drabble thingy idk

I've started watching peaky blinders and Im ill which made me think of this and it wont go away so now it's everyone else's problem too.

I've only watched one season so far so might bot be accurate to his character but im trying ;-;

warnings?: mentions of war, scars (not SH), possible PTSD stuff?? violence, alcohol, swearing...im really bad at warnings but i think that's everything unless you need a warning for the french too (jk)

Thinking about Thomas Shelby who owes you a favour. You own your own little group of miscreants but you dont deal with guns or betting, you grew a hate for guns after the war and made a rule to anyone who entered your pub that no guns were allowed. And you didn't do betting because there was too mich competition and dick measuring going on.

What you did deal in and make a living off of, was information, connections, you knew how to get things and what people had done behind closed doors, you were the eyes and ears in the walls. So of course Thomas had come to you for information, but he knew you wouldn't give it for free which is why he offered you a favour.

"anythin you want...any time, just for the information on the blokes I wrote down on that paper"

He says to you, and you take the offer, having the favour of a peaky blinder was valuable.

But what you weren't prepared for was how you'd use this favour.

It's late at night, your group had gotten into some trouble, a fight with another group that you'd prodded the bear with too much. You loose a few of your men, and that bothered you but what shook you the most out of your calm composure was the use of guns in that fight, the ringing was still in your ears as you stood outside Thomas Shelby's door.

When he opens the door you dont even greet him, just blurt out.

"im cashing in that favour. "

To which he raises an eyebrow but lets you in anyways, waiting silently as he tries to neaten his hair, messed up by a rough sleepless night.

"fuck......can i stay?...just for the night?"

You quickly realise how that sounds and sigh before trying to fix it.

"shit, not like that...i just...i just need to hear a heartbeat that isn't my own"

And somehow you got the great Thomas Shelby to agree on your favour, he convinces himself that it's just a favour, that it doesn't mean anything. But the fact you came to him instead of anyone else almost warmed his cold heart. He knew how it felt when the war wouldn't leave, when it made a home in your head and buried itself deep into your bones so that when they creak all you remember are the cries of your comrades.

So there you are, settled on his bed with your head on his chest, listening to the soft thuds of his heart. Your arms are tucked closely to yourself, trying to have the only contact being your head on his chest because this was humiliating enough as it was.

Your eyes close as you focus on the sound of his heart, it drowns out the sound of guns from both today's fight and the war, the sound of your own heart beating too fast because your body seems to still think there's a frenchman nearby and waiting with another gun.

You don't even realise you fell asleep until you wake up to the unfortunate reality that people tend to move in their sleep, finding your arms entwined around Thomas, your legs tangled with his.

Thomas himself was just as surprised when he hadn't heard any shovels that night and then awoke to see his hand ever so gently cradling your head to his chest, almost as a reflex he brushes his thumb across your shortly cropped hair. His eyes trail down, only now noticing the scars from war across your back and arms, he almost touched them and would've if he didn't know that it would probably wake you up.

You both untangled yourselves and lay apart and in silence when you were more awake.

"....this never happened."

You both agree in silence, knowing what would happen if anyone found out as well as the risk of getting attached which was never even thought about by either of you.

It was never spoken of again, both of you going back to just business, you almost forgot about it too.

Until you were sat in your pub, drinking peacefully with the chatter of the men, only to be disturbed when Thomas Shelby walks in, looking more unnaproachable than usual, he makes a beeline for you and murmurs something you weren't expecting.

"i need a heartbeat"

and it clicked, it was like an accidental secret code because no-one else knew what happened that night.

Let the boops rain down from the sky.

🎃

reblog this if you're okay being mass booped <3

Late night thinking pt 1/?

He had the kind of beauty that could only be found in those broken greek statues.

The kind where they're always reaching for something yet they are tragically frozen in place, unable to move, unable to reach that goal they dream of. Yet to everyone else they look beautiful, almost angelic.

It's tragic thats someones pain, someones curse is considered art to most. The romanticized suffering of those trapped forever.