Words cannot describe how much I adore this scene-
I've seen some mixed opinions on Barto interacting with the Straw Hats so early, but it honestly makes his hero worship so much more charming to me!
Because he was just a small time criminal.
He may have talked big, but he was barely more than a pocket thief. Quite frankly, he barely knew what he was doing either, considering how quick he was to follow Nami's advice.
He didn't have any thrive, he was just trying to survive in a world where death came much too easily and brutally.
But then he meets this kid, assuming he's an easy victim. He uses the advice of the woman he failed to rob, not knowing that the boy with him is one of hers.
He brings him to the place he wanted to see, the boy following much too easily, like someone trusting, like someone kind an idiot.
And then...the boy is standing there, looking up at the podium on which the pirate king was executed, speaking with such reverie and awe.
He tells him, that everything began here. His dreams, his thrive, everything that brought him to this moment started here, where a king laughed in the face of death and challenged the world one last time.
But...instead of thanking him and walking away, he asks Barto about his own dream. And it's such an odd moment, because no one had ever asked him that. No one had ever cared enough, yet this stranger, who Barto had planned to rob, wanted to know his dream like it was important.
Like it mattered.
And maybe, worse than anything, he can only tell the boy "I don't know". Can only tell him, he never thought about it.
What an odd thing it is, to dream in a world like theirs.
And then it all goes to shit. Apparently this kid is a pirate, and pissed of an entire crew of other pirates.
They want to kill him, want revenge.
And Barto...stays. He doesn't know why, doesn't even know if they'd let him leave at all, but something keeps him there either way.
And before he can blink, the kid's crew arrives, one of which is the woman he tried to rob. A fight breaks out, and Barto hides, because what else can he do? He's just a small time criminal! He didn't sign up for pirate war!
But as he's hiding, a call rings out.
It's that kid again. He and the clown are on the podium. The clown is gonna kill him, he knows. But...the boy isn't scared. He yells out his name, Monkey D. Luffy, and tells them, he's gonna be king of the pirates.
Barto can't look away. He doesn't know why, but there's something striking about this scene. Maybe it's the determination in Luffy's eyes. Maybe it's the sword gleaming in the face of a storm. Maybe it's just that there's people on the execution platform, right where a legend died, soon followed by a boy who saw Barto and cared enough to ask him for his dream.
Then Luffy calls out again, this time for his friends. And he...he smiles at them, and tells them "I'm sorry". But he's not scared, even as his crew grows frantic, even as panic clouds them and they cut down anyone in the way of their captain, their friend. He simply laughs, like death is nothing but a joke, like a king who long since lost his crown.
But he doesn't die.
Just as the sword is raised into the air, lightning strikes, the clown explodes, and the pirate king's final resting place falls.
And Luffy...hes fine.
He simply laughs, free of his shackles and covered in soot.
And Barto is in complete awe.
In a daze, he tells them how to escape, and escape they do.
And as he's walking down the street in the aftermath of it all, he sees a poster of a boy in a Straw Hat, grinning at the camera with a smile that could rival the sun itself.
A boy who told the world his name, and called out a declaration, even with a sword against his neck.
A boy who laughed in the face of death, right where a king once did the same.
A boy who survived through a lightning strike, as though the sky itself has claimed him as it's own.
A boy who was so beloved by his crew, that they refused to give up in the face of an impossibility.
A boy who looked at Barto instead of through him and asked him for his dream, as though it's something important, as though Barto is more than he is.
...the sky has cleared after the boy sailed away. There's a broken mirror.
Barto looks at it...and then he smiles.
That boy is the sun itself, and he decided, that Barto deserves to dream.
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I never understood why itâs been almost 10 years and people hate on Rey choosing her last name. As is Star Wars isnât FULL of people choosing their name.
The Sith- all were given their names by masters
People of Naboo (which as a daughter of a clone of a man whoâs from Naboo, she is Nabooian) - Pick their name, like PadmĂŠâs birth last name was Naberrie, changed when she was elected Queen and kept it as Senator.
The clones- some gave themself nicknames to make them not just a number
Changing your name in the Star Wars is very symbolic. Itâs about choosing your own path.
Rey saw herself as a nobody her whole life, then she gets a family with Han, Leia, Chewie and Finn. Itâs a new chapter, she is allowed to mark the new time with a new name.
frank with someone who's very independent but actually pretty anxious inside? a person who can talk and appear pretty confident but really is super shy and quiet if you got to know her really. I just feel like he's pick up in that so early, doing chores for you he knows you don't like to do. AND when he finally gets you in bed and sees how shy you are he's shocked at the difference
OH. EM. GEEEEEEEE.
girl the way i could talk about this for hours im literally on my phone and im about to spit out all my headcanons on this (probably 700+ words on this, eyeballing)
if ur here for smut i have it bolded where it starts from
we all know, no shit, frank has UNHEALTHY habits. like man will rely on the fucking force and will power to get through his day, but the second itâs anyone else? itâs all of a sudden ânah, you knew you were hurting urself and you let it slide? nah you donât hurt someone i love.â dhhdjeuxhdj man just fuck me on the wall donât you
and iâm assuming like this is a reader who knows how to cope with that anxiety, just getting through her day and pulling through till she can curl up next to him at the end of the night, wanting sleep so she can just shut everything out for a second till the next day
NOW ME PERSONALLY. THIS FITS ME SO WELL. everyone assumes im an extrovert bc of how much i like to talk to people and openly try new things, BUTTTT if you were really close to me, youâd know how much iâd like to step back and let someone else take the wheel, how much iâd CRAVE it.
iâd be friending all night and day for a chance to just let someone control me (frank castle, baby, WHERE YOU ATTTT)
i think frank would clock you out so GODDAMN QUICK. in his life? false walls, fake personalities, they donât work out. heâs gotta know whoâs who at the very instant he meets them.
see you may think youâre masking your anxiety pretty well, or that youâre hiding this shyness great with conversation and such, but he notices. maybe itâs the way you tug on your sleeve, play with your rings, sway back and forth in a comforting rhythm just waiting to get by yourself again.
and here is our conundrum- frank castle knows you.
he all of a sudden knows the big ol secret that youâve been covering for a while, because what the fuck? being vulnerable? huh? whatâs that?
and it just shoots up from there, everytime youâre around him before you start dating, he starts doing little things to ease your anxiety.
maybe youâre getting food with your friends, he guides you in with the rest of the group, gets a table and gets everyone situated, and all of a sudden heâs telling you about this amazing dish on the menu that youâll like, so you donât have to worry about ordering. your fav drink? already memorized for last time. what? you need to book a ride back home? tf he just standing there for, âcâmon little lady, i gotchu covered.â
itâs so fucking pleasing to be around, relieving to experience, and just so perfect that you donât notice heâs doing it on purpose, for you.
by the time you start dating, thereâs so much trust built upon that foundationâ yes, you can get bold and sassy time to time, but he knows at the end of the day, you want to be held. you want to just be held so tight like the rest of the world would fall apart if you didnât, you want to feel like every seam is about to start floating apart if he doesnât get those huge arms around you right there and then, squeezing like a weighted blanket, like a safe haven in the midst of everything
(iâm so fucking single someone hold me)
any time heâd notice your anxiety tics, like your hands kneading themselves in your lap, all of a sudden observing the lights in the middle of a conversation, oh heâs step right in, getting close to your ear so you could feel his presence around, so you could correlate the moment you felt safe and maybe trick your brain into giving into the warmth js for a second if he could help
âsmthn the matter? talk to me hunâ
right, but you being you, you get all people pleasing, lighting up your face with that years-of-practice smile and answering brightly enough that it tricks most people
frank being the only exception, taking your answer if your in public and reapproaching alone, or if itâs in public and itâs someone else bothering you, oh heâs be so quick to pluck you out of that place like a daisy.
already planning getting your favorite drink and someone to sit and talk so you donât feel like you wasted a day, tf was that supposed to mean anyways, wasting a day? with a face like that? ainât a day wasted when he woke up next to that face resting next to him.
if youâre the person to feel anxiety from just a messy house, he wouldnât even complain. by the time you got home, the dishes are already out of the sink and arranged
the counters decluttered, and at least the bed is made. it puts your mind to ease when you donât have to do it after your day, able to just toe your shoes off and run for a hot warm shower and then get started on dinner
if you didnât want to make dinner, heâs already tying his apron or calling up take out (where tf does he get his money from? ion kno)
if ur like me, you like to make dinner in a clean kitchen bc u can play music, dance around and get stuff chopped up, cooked up, smelling good and tasting even better and itâs a control that seems small, but it just lets youâŚquiet. itâs a process but itâs not tedious, itâs healing, yknow.
heâs come up behind you, those large hands on your hips (fucking veiny, large, calloused hands on your hips, fingers splayed with and across the skin, the balm to your jittery energy, the still you need to stop moving so much, the need for your desires, god, i could write headcanons about those hands itself)
anyways. heâs deeply inhaling with his head crooked down to rest on your shoulder while he peers into whatever you were making, listening attentively, letting you get into the whole works of it.
you babble mindlessly while you cook, here and there breaking into dance from the music playing, and frank all but indulges you, letting you have your little bubble in this home, if not here then where?
ok, shut up starry, she came here for the fun stuff, stop projecting ur domestics canons onto them
(cri)
ladies and gentlemen of the jury, i plead guilty. pls have frank castle fuck me. matt is my lawyer heâs a very good one, tell em matt tell em how much i need frankie to bend me over
(matt sighs from the table: this is a parking ticket.)
now before yall got intimate for the first time, he knows youâre a tease, itâs an easy joke that spills out, oh yeah youâve observed it people love to gaffaw at those kinda jokes, and you love to please some people.
and even with him, the stupidest things, and youâre a tease about it.
youâre kissing maybe, or maybe you just feel the energy, and youâre already yapping off going on and diffusing tension building inside you, itâs not anxiety but you canât quite pinprick it yet. he makes you feel alive, but itâs new and you try to rid of it
oh but he gets your quiet real quick doesnât he. all it takes is a âlook at me, donât hide. let me see your eyes.â
FUCK. GODDAMMIT. HOLY MAMA HAVE MY BABIES.
eye contact is SO HARD when youâre strung up, the thought of someone looking into you seeing you when youâre not your perfect self, itâs horrifying. yet he loves you so; maybe even more when that smug smile rests at his lips, pulling you by the chin back in for a smile.
yall havenât even taken your clothes off yet, oh heâs gonna get a kick outta this
and we all know weâd already be wet as a slip n slide at this point, but heâs a gentlemen so he takes his sweet ol time with foreplay, lips on your skin while he unhooks your bra with one hand (my favorite party trick you geezer, js for me?) and all of a sudden youâre huffing and soft pants when his hands grasp at your chest, squeezing, with those hands, rough and yet measured delicately, oh he knows how to string you apart like that, youâre not moaning yet, but it takes you by surprise, your breaths are ticking up at the end, you like this so damn much
but frank is nothing if not a clever bastard, he makes you say it. âu like that? cmon, say it, hun. tell me to keep going, tell me you like that.â
yessir yessir yessir. god you canât even look him in the eyes, mesmerized by the way everything feels that you trying to tuck yourself into him, wanting everything, wanting closeness, wanting him.
youâd end up murmuring something out, and heâd respond that he could hear you actually, insist on the fact (except he could hear the change in your breath from at ease to anxious? sure.)
he wouldnât stop pressing against you, a soft roll of his hips before you could even start your second attempt at the sentence, effectively shutting you up and going âm cmon, lemme hear you.â
heâs not talking about you talking anymore
franks not stopping till youâre practically whimpering that it feels good, that he should keep going, shaking like a leaf, so he shushes you up, making quick work of the clothes, and kissing you brainless
âmm so quiet hunny? whereâd my big-talking girl go, huh?â
MY GIRL đŤ
(i have issues i know pls move along)
now heâs got you on your back, or pressed against the headboard, anywhere where he pries your legs apart, a kiss to your soft inner thighs as a thanks, one hand splayed across your hip and the other trying to work you open and loosen you up.
your eyes are skirting around, going here and there and trying to find a place to rest, practically blaring in your head DO NOT look down there; do NOT look up at him; Do NOT look at those damn muscle chiseled shoulders; the LAMP. yes. the lamp, very sexy, just focus on the lamp.
aw heâs having none of that, two fingers deep inside of you, not yet touching your sensitive soft clit, the sounds lewd and slick. knuckles deep, hitting places u physically couldnât with his thicker longer fingers, grinning softly at your hesitance of where to look. that damn smile is what got you into this mess in the first place
âhun, look, look at me, ok? nah nunna that thinking nonsense, just look at meâŚn feelâyeah, you like that? right there? good girl, lemme hear you.â
youâre trembling, youâre gone coming after all that, eyes catching his and struggling still, but itâs his girls first time with a man good as him, heâs gotta let it slide. (oh heâs just a sucker for you)
once heâs successfully got you coming the first time, heâs gone. driven mad. you got this sheer coat of sweat painting your skin like a painting, eyes twinkling while they look up at him with expectations that heâs going to more than fulfill, hands propping herself up while he slides a pillow under her hips, so damn vulnerable and soft and fucking willing for him, willing to put up with his bullshit and his paranoia, trusting him and letting him control the moment, letting him soothe you, your need, itâs all driving him mad.
MADLY IN LOVE MWAHHAHAHAHAH (i am so sorry everyone i am not a serious person)
he knows youâre more sensitive cause you just came, and every stretch, every touch, feels like bliss exploding across your skin. it makes you so damn beautiful in his eyes
your hands are so small on him, anchoring onto his bicep or his shoulders, finding some place to hold onto while he fucking rails you into that bed
you know what getting hit by a freight train is like? me neither, but franks hotter than one anyways so who tf cares.
heâs got you gasping. hes got you there.
and all that sass, the attitude, teasing you gave him? worth every damn second of this. of this nervous shy girl that he knows js what to do with
make a (consensual) mess outta her
if you thought youâre getting away with only cumming once, well. itâs a good think he doesnât want you to think in the first place, so you just lay back and let him take of it, why donât ya?
ok back to my wholesome thoughts. we going aftercare with this one
ok anyways else a little sassy after sex like theyâre making up for how dumb they were during it
(everyone boos at me. matt murdock in the back raises his hand and nods. âsheâs rightâ he says. thank you matt)
so heâs cleaning you up and teasing you about what a mess it is down there and ur like âwell whoâs fault is that?â
and he grins, pressing just a little harder into that mound and rendering you useless for a minute, till youâre back again and going at him and heâs just smiling bc his girl is back. sassy, attitude, he loves it all. (especially when youâre as nervous as a mouse under him, but two sides to every coin type shi, yknow?)
warm bath depending on how boneless you are, still talking some crap against him while he picks you up from the bed like a bag of grapes, carrying you to the bath, (youâre still going on by the way)
itâs so heartwarming, just the way you got back up, he loves it. he loves you.
yeah, he loves you, alright.
and he gets u sushi. lotta sushi required for aftercare. or whatever the fuck you prefer. fufu? shi thereâs gotta be a place in all of new york still open, and thereâs gotta be some poor door dasher still ready to drive it over. italian? why didnât u say so, the aprons coming out again.
anyways. cuddles. u get it i donât gotta say more iâve said enough.
i feel like deadpool with the amount of talking i just did. if i yap this much again, someone PLS say âstarry, stfuâ and get me outta my funk PLS
I will simply never get over the fact that a few years ago Taylor Swift was writing songs like "You're losing me" "The Prophecy" and "So long London" and now she's finally getting married. I've always been a hopeless romantic and Taylor and Travis are a modern-day fairy tale. What do you mean he saw her concert and was so enchanted by her he just had to ask her out? And now they're married??
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Does anyone have recommendations for a good Twilight Princess playthrough on youtube? I started it with friends and I'll never be able to finish it so I'd like to watch a playthrough.
Y'know,I've actually never been in the Undertale or the Deltarune fandom,only got across that one Chara animation with sans plus the famous sans aus and how every skeleton was doing every skeleton in sight,but in the case of Deltarune and Kris in particular,even I can understand from the pieces of fanart that continuously jump my Tumblr feed that Kris isn't a self insert,that we,the player,are the soul and that Kris wants to break free and fucking hates us.
