Everyone In The Archives Is So Damn Pretty Because Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholding

My 90yr old Irish Catholic grandpa doesn’t miss with my gender. He’s never gotten my name wrong, or my pronouns, never even faltered over it.

It’s all so natural too: son, big man, young man…

We’ve never talked about it. He’s the only one who hasn’t pushed for details. He just accepted it and carried on because it’s not a huge deal.

It’s so comforting.

STEVE BUSCEMI WAS THE INSPIRATION FOR SANJI I AM SCREAMING

garlic is the most evil fucking thing on planet earth. that and silver.

© talt_lo

is peanut butter a liquid or solid

concept building on Impel Down where the marines have to just make the executive decision to stop putting Luffy in prison altogether because no matter where they put him he just breaks out and frees all the other prisoners while he's at it so it's just a net loss every single time

new recruit being like "we've captured the pirate king!! surely a criminal of this caliber should be put in [whatever the WG's latest high security hell prison is]" and his older captain is like "AHAHAH no we will nOT put Prison Breaks Georg in the place we need to be mOST CERTAIN IS NEVER COMPROMISED"

his bounty no longer says dead or alive anymore like nah just KILL that sucker

laboon… my little whale friend

The corruption disquiets me so, so very much. People don’t like disease, they don’t like insects, not usually, evolution has taught us that they might bite, might burrow, might feed on you until you itch, or hurt, or die.

So what does it do? It gives you something that you do want. It envelops you in an all consuming love. It wraps its filth around you in dizzying circles until you’re swept off your feet, and you want it. You want to be surrounded with the filth, you want to share its embrace, your obsession, your happiness. And the love isn’t right. It’s love, but 15° northeast, it’s ill, and diseased, and it controls you, but it doesn’t hurt you, does it? Because you are more love than you are human now, not filth, not disease, not corruption, no. Love. Love that has replaced your essence with something that is crawling, something that yearns to spread. Fuck, man.