to you, itâs a shitty sentence. to some random bitch 500 miles away, itâs a fire line thatâll haunt them for the next 17 years.
you donât know how impactful your writing is because itâs been in your brain for far too long now. youâve stared at it for hours and repeated âthis sucksâ over and over again to the point that you killed your capacity to feel anything about your work.
but trust me, once you get your shit out there, someoneâs gonna go over that paragraph you hate and go âjesus fucking christâ and put the book down to have an existential crisis.
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Taking someone's cigarette out of their mouth: Multiple meanings - used a lot in media to convey control, power play, very masculine, I'm your boss and this is mine now, get over it. Mildly flirty, look at me, all in your space and shit, seductive. You're not allowed to smoke, because I say so.
Putting the cigarette back in their mouth afterwards: Ground-breaking. Would be less erotic to just fuck honestly. Who does this?
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you can't win (corazĂłn x reader nsfw)
masterlist || commissions
cw: size kink, tummy bulge, inappropriate use of devil fruit, secret relationship, a bit of angst, doffy likes to ruin things for his brother
tagging: @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @willowbelle @sanjisjuul @queenmimi2817
with corazĂłn's thick cock stuffing you full to the brim, it's hard to stay quiet.
muffling the lewd mewls that escape your lips wasn't the issueâhe easily suppresses them all with a snap of his fingers and a mumble of silenceâthe problem is that with each deep, languid stroke he gives you, you find yourself becoming increasingly incapable of biting back the three little words hanging on the tip of your tongue. they're words that would spell out your death, or a fate far worse if a certain someone or any of his little birds heard them and sang a mockery of your sweet song to their master.
and yet, you can't help yourself from saying it, whimpered under your breath as you tremble beneath himâ"i love you, rosi..." you whisper, causing a stutter in his movements as he stares at you with an overflowing pool of emotions in his eyes. he opens his mouth, and you prepare yourself to be filled with the silky baritone of his voice, but the sound never comes. instead, his lips attach to yours fervently, rutting into you with a desperate, quickened sense of need you've never seen from him before.
"i love you too." he finally murmurs against your mouth as the pad of his thumb rubs soft circles into your clit. his teeth graze your bottom lip as he pulls away to admire the wrecked mess he's creating; rosinante trails his hand down your torso until it reaches the tip of his head poking out of your stomach, making you both shudder with delight.
"i'm going to protect you as best as i can, my love. i promise." he swears, though both of you know he's a fool for even trying; rosinante was already hiding far too many secrets from doflamingo, and it was only a matter of time until the cards toppled over for him.
though, as you see stars and come undone in rosi's commanding but tender grip, you hope that he's able to hold the wool over his brother's sensitive eyes for just a little while longer.
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A chance meeting at Lougetown sets the tone for the future of Crocodile and Doflamingo.
Sweet Dreams Are Made of These
âFor too long, villains and miscreants have sown havoc across our seas. But the Marines, on behalf of your World Government, strive to keep you safe and protected. And today weâve made a great stride in that effort. Gold Roger, the so-called King of the Pirates, has been captured."
Crocodile huffed, partly in annoyance at the bold claims and partly in disgust at the prisoner that knelt grinning down that crowd. The hot mid-day sun beat down the crowd but no one seemed to care. All eyes, his included, were fixed on the scene playing out before them. He was tucked away into a side alley; the darkness of the location providing both shade and a place away from the masses where he could watch unbothered. He hated crowds. Hated the press of bodies against his own; the smell that stuck in his nostrils and the cacophony of voices that rang in his ears. He would have never come to this place if it wasnât for the fact that he simply had to see if the news was true. To his dismay and disappointment, it was. Gold D Roger, the Pirate King, was about to be executed.
His reign of terror ends this day. Peace shall be restored. Let this be a message to break the spirit of anyone foolish enough to follow in his footsteps. Gold Roger, you have been sentenced to death for the crimes of piracy, thievery, and conspiracy against the World Government.
âWhat a joke,â a deep rough voice spoke behind him. He snapped around; one hand on his rapier handle; the fingers of his other hand flexed and ready to turn the intruder into a dried husk in a matter of seconds.
A tall young man towered over him; oddly curved shades blocked his eyes but his gaze was transfixed on the podium. He didnât even look in Crocodileâs direction. He didnât know if to be wary or offended by the action. âThey talk about his crimes when they commit even worse ones in the names of their so-called justice,â the young man continued, âEveryone here knows it.â
Crocodile gave a non-committal grunt and followed his gaze to the podium. âEven if they know it, they will do nothing about it. It is hard to push against the grain when youâve been bred to follow all your life.â He felt the strangerâs gaze turn to look down at him but he didnât look up to confirm.
By the authority of the World Government⊠I declare your life forfeitâŠ
Crocodile found his hand gripping the handle of his rapier tightly; his teeth clenched. Where was the Pirate Kingâs Crew? Where were his friends and comrades in arms? The men that sailed all of Grand Line with him? Did they abandon him in his time of need? Were they going to sit by and watch their Captain die? Was he really going to see another Empire crumble to dust because no one was loyal enough to stand with their leader?
Pirate King, where is your treasure?
A lone voice rang out. The question silenced the crowd like a gunshot. The atmosphere suddenly shifted; like the air before a storm. Charged and with the innate anticipation that something wonderful and terrible was coming.
Tell us where you hid it!
Another voice rang out. Then another and another. Pleas, demand, and begs filling the air and falling upon the ears of the world like raindrops on parched earth.
"You want my treasure?
Crocodile has expected his voice to sound frail but instead, it boomed from the podium, carrying easily over the waiting hearts below. He found himself holding his breath.
You can have it! I left everything I gathered together in one place. Now you just have to find it."
It was like a thunderclap from the clear blue sky. The crowd drew in a collective breath and exploded in cheers. The noise was like a tsunami; rushing in and destroying everything in its path. The crowd seemed to surge like a rouge tide; bodies swirling and then flooding towards to sea.
Crocodile jerked back almost instinctively to get out of the way; coming up short against a firm chest behind him. Large hands curled around his shoulders to steady him. He snapped his head up annoyed that the stranger didnât get out of his way. A pair of cerulean blue eyes locked into his from behind those ridiculous pink shades.
âNot so hard to push against the grain when you have an incentive,â the manâs grin seemed to split his face in two. Crocodile frowned as his own observations were used to argue against him but before he could retort the man continued. âIâm going to do great things in the future. You should join me.â
Crocodile bristled. âHow ironic that I am going to do the same, maybe you should join me?â He smiled wide, baring his teeth to the other man. The manâs smile grew impossibly wider and his eyes took on a look of cruel intent. Crocodile knew in his bones that he would never be able to work with someone like this. They were too much alike and any agreement would end in betrayal or worse.
âHow about a wager then?â the stranger asked. Crocodile narrowed his eyes a bit.
âContinue.â
âLetâs see who builds something that lasts,â a long, pink tongue darted out to wet chapped, thin lips.
âI accept,â Crocodile replied, his lips twisting into an almost sensual smile, eyes half-lidded like the predator he was, âNow get your hands off me.â
The stranger cacked a low, deep fu fu fu before pulling away, long fingertips grazing the skin of Crocodileâs neck, causing his skin to goosebump in disgust at the unwelcome intimate gesture.
âIâm Donquixote Doflamingo,â the tall man finally introduced himself.
âSir Crocodile,â Crocodile offered almost offhandedly.
Doflamingo sidestepped around him and stepped out of the alleyway into the blazing sun. His pale gold hair lit up like a halo of a corrupt god. He turned to look back at Crocodile.
âTill we meet again on sea or on sand.â
And with that he was gone; loping strides taking him through the crowd quickly and vanishing from view.
Only then did Crocodile allow himself to squirm; his body shuddering as if trying to shake off Doflamingoâs touch. Turning on his heel he headed towards the nearest tavern. He hoped that he never had to cross paths with that bastard again.
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"I can't believe [media] was actually about _____ the whole time!!!"
[one possible interpretation, yep]
[literally the main theme??]
[worst take you've seen in your life]
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