Fatherhood? Impossible!

So, I very recently got into One Piece for the third time because of the Donquixote brothers.

However.

The man they call Sir Crocodile has taken over in a mere day, and now, he's all I can think about to the point of wanting to write a VERY self-indulgent fic that is VERY spicy.

Help me.

All of you are saviours

Apparently a lot of people get dialogue punctuation wrong despite having an otherwise solid grasp of grammar, possibly because they’re used to writing essays rather than prose. I don’t wanna be the asshole who complains about writing errors and then doesn’t offer to help, so here are the basics summarized as simply as I could manage on my phone (“dialogue tag” just refers to phrases like “he said,” “she whispered,” “they asked”):

“For most dialogue, use a comma after the sentence and don’t capitalize the next word after the quotation mark,” she said.

“But what if you’re using a question mark rather than a period?” they asked.

“When using a dialogue tag, you never capitalize the word after the quotation mark unless it’s a proper noun!” she snapped.

“When breaking up a single sentence with a dialogue tag,” she said, “use commas.”

“This is a single sentence,” she said. “Now, this is a second stand-alone sentence, so there’s no comma after ‘she said.’”

“There’s no dialogue tag after this sentence, so end it with a period rather than a comma.” She frowned, suddenly concerned that the entire post was as unasked for as it was sanctimonious.

I thought they were dapping up and now I can't unsee it

@sonadowtober day 12: role swap

Basically, Shadow is dragged to Camelot instead of Sonic and meets King Arthur and his knights. They are in front of Misty Lake.

In short, lansoni swaped

Inspired/based on this piece made by @silvermun

I had work writing this, so i'm sharing: a little bit of the process

Sadly I will not be able to make content for all days, but I'm happy that I could at least send this one 💕 There's some that I lost the day, but I still wanna do it cuz the idea that I had sounded really cute in my head

Began watching Cory's Finding Frankie gameplay and Frankie reminded me of Choo-Choo Charles. Now, imagine this. Choo-Choo Charles paired with Frankie.

Nightmare fuel.

Just... wow.

If you write for him, could I ask for Sir Crocodile who is absolutely WHIPPED for reader? I loveee when he’s portrayed as a hopeless romantic for his partner and it’s even better when reader is the same way towards him ♡ sort of like Mortica and Gomez ^^ (I’m not normal about him I’m sorry LMAOWJDB)

           苦⠀⠀⠀℘𝗈𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗌⠀𝐞⠀⸺⠀𝒮ilenci̲o̲s⠀⠀٫

Pairings. Sir crocodile x fem!reader

summary. Whipped

— (a/n): i am so so super excited for that request, in fact I was waiting for crocodile for so long but got no idea.

⠀⠀   ⠀             ︵‿⭒                     ⠻ ‎❀ ‎⠟  

— He is devoted, not desperate.

Crocodile does not chase love—he does not stumble over himself to prove his worth, nor does he fall into the reckless behaviors of men who do not understand the meaning of control. He is not a man ruled by whims, yet when it comes to you, something inside him changes. He does not worship as poets or fools do; rather, he loves you as a man who fully understands what he owns. His love is deliberate, a silent force that weaves itself into your life without request, without question. He is not a beggar at the altar of your love—he is the altar itself, the ground upon which your love is built. His devotion is not a weakness; it is a law—unspoken, absolute, and completely unbreakable.

— Actions over words.

Crocodile is not a man who speaks in vain, nor does he waste his time on great declarations. Words are cheap. He has been a man of power for a very long time to believe in beautiful phrases and fleeting emotions. What he truly believes in is consistency. A gloved hand touching yours—not by accident, but because he wants to feel your presence. The way he ensures you walk on the safe side of the street, a silent habit that has become part of his nature. He watches over you not because he doubts your strength, but because the idea of something happening to you is not a possibility he can accept. Loyalty is not something he gives easily. But you? You hold his loyalty in a way no one else does, and even if he never says it out loud, you will know. You will always know.

— He indulges you—but only you.

Crocodile has no patience for fools. His subordinates know well not to waste his time, and he rarely engages in unnecessary conversations. But with you? His attention is yours alone. It does not matter if you are talking about something important or simply enjoying the sound of your own voice—he listens. He listens in a way that seems indifferent, reclining with a cigar in hand, occasionally letting out a hum or a low chuckle, but he does not miss a thing. He notices every change in your tone, every glance, every small smile that tugs at your lips. And when you turn to him expecting a reaction, he meets your gaze with that same knowing look—because of course he was listening. He remembers details no one else notices and indulges your whims in ways that are so subtle yet so profound that you do not realize how much he spoils you until you think about it.

— The little things he does to take care of you.

If you fight, your weapons are always in perfect condition—not because you asked, but because he made sure of it. There is no spectacle in the way he takes care of you, no unnecessary words or dramatic displays. He simply does. If you forget to eat, he will not scold or argue with you—he will place a plate in front of you, and he will not take no for an answer. If you are hurt, the entire world stops until it is taken care of. His hands—so accustomed to violence—become incredibly gentle when they touch you, his gloved fingers lifting your chin to examine even the smallest wounds. He does not make a fuss, does not overreact, but the tight set of his jaw says everything. His concern is silent but suffocating, woven into the very fabric of your life.

And if someone was the cause of your pain? That is an entirely different matter.

— His temper is controlled, but his rage is not.

Crocodile is not a man who acts on reckless emotion. He does not explode, does not waste his energy on unnecessary outbursts. His anger is quiet, cold, and patient. One glance from him can freeze a man where he stands, and a slow drag of his cigar is the only sign that he is deciding how to handle the situation. If someone hurts you—physically or emotionally—they will not know the moment they sealed their fate. There will be no warning. No second chances.

— He does not threaten. He does not need to.

Instead, things simply happen. Business partners disappear. “Accidents” occur. A man who dared to speak ill of you suddenly finds himself without allies, his empire crumbling beneath him. Revenge for him is easy, simple, effortless. He does not just remove problems—he erases them from existence as if they were never worth acknowledging in the first place.

And you? You do not even need to ask. By the time you mention the offense, it has already been dealt with.

— When he expresses his affection, it is with purpose.

Crocodile is not a man who wastes words. He does not say things he does not mean, and he certainly does not indulge in flowery phrases. But when he speaks to you, when his words are slow and measured, laced with something meant only for you—they carry weight.

“You are the only one who matters.”

Said in the dead of night, when the world is silent and his walls are at their lowest. His voice is rough, weary, but certain.

“I do not trust easily. You know that.”

A simple sentence, but the meaning behind it is undeniable.

And when he says “I love you”—on the rare occasions he does—it is never empty. Never casual. It is a statement, a fact, as unshakable as the empire he has built.

— He lets you in—truly in.

No one sees him as you do. No one sees past the Warlord, the businessman, the criminal. No one else knows what his silence truly means, what lingers behind those sharp amber eyes when no one else is looking. He is a man who does not trust, a man who has built his entire life on control, on keeping people at a distance.

— But you? You are different.

You see the rare moments when he is unguarded, when his head tilts back, eyes closed, exhaling a long breath as the tension drains from his body. When his hand—always gloved, always composed—finds its way to your waist, gripping just enough to remind himself that you are real. When he allows himself to sleep beside you, something he never does unless he is completely at ease.

To the world, he is untouchable. But to you? He is simply yours.

Damn...

I just had this thought

Does Dust ever get flashbacks about the human/player from his au whenever Killer is fighting or is generally acting more like a player than a monster like the rest of them?

Does he hate Killer because of it? Some general dislike? Discomfort, disgust that someone has fused souls with someone more monstrous than an actual monster?

Srsly I gotta see that like. I was thinking abt that one post talking abt how Killer disassociates and views everyone as npc's with repeating habits and dialog ever since he got to see the perspective of the player. And just saw the new Xtha song Eye to Eye. And thought of this

What the...

How is bnha anime of the decade...... they aren’t even anime of the hour of the minute of the second

To Tame the Tamer

𓂀 The beast tamer, Smoked Cheese Cookie, requires a stern talking to.

Pairing: Smoked Cheese Cookie × Fem!Reader

Note: He's Affogato Cookie but likeable (not like he isn't but SC is just better).

WC: 817

Graphics: orange 1 + 1.1, orange 2

The beast tamer could not suppress the scoff that emerged from the thought of his "Golden Sovereign" refusing to act, and that she continued to cling to a fallen kingdom. It has been years since the Dark Flour War has passed, and still she fears what can no longer threaten her. The kingdom he has pledged his undying loyalty to, is frozen in a certain period of time, neither evolving or devolving. He, too, is but a mere husk, a cheap imitation of what he once was. 

A figment of her imagination.

And that is the worst insult of all. He, the once great beast tamer of the Golden Cheese Kingdom, reduced to nothing but a mere soul, wandering the ruins of the fallen kingdom. How pathetic. Even the great Gate Guardian is but a soul and nothing more, his strength limited by the coward that insists on continuing this tasteless façade.

She is hopeless. Completely, utterly hopeless. And the mere fact that Mozzarella Cookie and Burnt Cheese Cookie continue to stand by her side and even encourage her delusions is nothing short of infuriating. If only he could get his hands on her soul jam, free everyone of this miserable charade. Yes... He could return this kingdom to its former glory, better it even. The people would be grateful of his deeds, they would all be free of Golden Cheese's delusions, they would no longer have to live as husks, and he would—

“I know that look.”

Curses. Of course someone had to interrupt his line of glorious thoughts. Who would dare to approach him in his private chambers? The Smoked Cheese Cookie? Who—?

“Your greed, Smoked Cheese Cookie, while great, requires its limits. You know what happened the last time you attempted to overthrow Her Radiance.”

Ah... Her. The only one who could, eh, calm him in this state. The only person who could understand his vision even if she disagreed with his ways of going about it. Perhaps that is why he loved and cherished her so, why he would forsake his duties to the kingdom without a second thought for her if she only commanded it. Yes, the love of his life.

"Yes, I remember it quite well, my jewel..." Smoked Cheese Cookie responds, eyeing his beloved from the side.

Ever the gleaming woman. Not even Her Radiance compares to the greatness that is his jewel—his treasure. He could feel himself getting lost in her visage. His eyes that were once filled with a barely contained rage were now calm, the fire in his eyes subdued for only a moment by the only one who could tame him by her mere presence.

“My, you never cease your admiration. Am I truly a sight to behold?” she chuckled into his ear so suddenly.

He had not noticed her move from her spot. Smoked Cheese Cookie was so enthralled by her, so enchanted, that he never once took notice of her walking towards him. She never ceased to amaze him. It is as if he is a beast and she is his tamer. And he is more than willing to comply.

He turned around to face her, feeling his simmering rage die down fully, if only for the time being. “You are more radiant than Golden Cheese Cookie herself, my jewel. You are more radiant than this entire golden kingdom and any jewels or treasures in this cruel world,” he murmured, hand raising to cup her cheek. She smiled at his gesture, her own hand coming up to overlap his before she spoke, her voice soothing the last remnants of his frustration and snuffing out the flames of his fury.

“You tell me that often.”

“For it is true.”

She hummed in response to his words, staring deeply into his eyes, her smile never fading. Pathetic as this façade was, seeing her made it... bearable. She made it bearable. She always did and that is why he would never let her go. He refuses to. Not like how...

No. The war is over. It is no more. All that remained was him and her, alone in his private quarters, her lips closing the distance between his, and then, her taste. His grip on his staff faded, the staff falling to the pristine floor as the hand that held it reached up for her face to pull her closer. She, too, grasped onto him, arms wrapping around his slender but toned waist, pulling him closer.

Her touch was intoxicating, like the finest cheese from the richest cheese fondue. He was losing himself in that richness, his hands roaming her body, and slipping beneath her robes. His hands roamed her body gracefully, his touch filled with need and frustration.

Perhaps this façade isn't so bad after all if it meant having her like this. Perhaps this façade isn't bad at all if it meant having her…

Dude... what the heck.

There’s a reason why we feel lonely even though we aren’t alone. It’s because loneliness is not about how many friends we have or how many people are in the room with us. It’s a disconnection from others. Being social doesn’t cure loneliness, loneliness comes when there is not a single person close enough to see past the illusion to who we really and what we really feel inside.

I feel a little less of a reader when I can't understand big words 😞

stop using big words in fics i’m a dummy