#there are parts I would do a little differently now and the writing could be stronger but in general I think it's still a banger

[bumblingbeezzz]

I think somebody out there wants me to kill myself lmao. I keep seeing things on here that could all potentially ruin my mood, and now I see holes getting shot through one of my lifelines amidst the sinking sands of depression. I knew Goku was never entirely a righteous hero, but in fact got a lot of thrill from fighting, which is why he would sometimes leave a worthy opponent alive so he can fight him again, even if they were an extremely dangerous individual to let roam free. But this says that it's literally all he cares about? Some of the claims OP made are, at the very least, not backed up in the source provided by the other poster. It doesn't say here that he only feels companionship not love, and that he would only care for a second if his family and friends died.***

It's pretty messed up. The same article makes both Goku and Toriyama not look so great all at once. In it, he also admits that his motivation for writing DBZ was nothing more than money, and doesn't say that he learned to love it or have any connection to his fans (in fact, he mentions intentionally messing with them and being contrary to their wishes), just seems to imply that it was an easier job than most. I'm tempted to share this with the person who got me into DBZ but also I don't want to ruin anything for them. Then again, they're the type to say "I prefer the brutal truth" so...

Ah fuck but what about all my followers who like DBZ? Goddammit...I wanted to say my piece but I guess it's selfish of me to ruin it for others. But, well, actually there may be some consolation for those who already saw this, because Toriyama also states that he forgets some of the things he writes. He also says he doesn't take care of his illustrations after he finishes them. Which is really weird and kind of disheartening to hear that he had so little passion for the story he built and shared with so many fans worldwide. But the point is, it seems that many fans are closer to the material than even he is, and as I've said before about the Harry Potter series, you can separate the content from the creator by acknowledging that 1) it is fiction and 2) there is a difference between who the author is, how the author interprets their own work, and what enjoyers make of it. These characters live in our consciousness as we built them too. We put our own heart into it just by immersing ourselves in it. Yeah, sure, Toriyama had a different vision of Goku than maybe a lot of fans did, but that doesn't make those interpretations we acquired and stored less valid. We all used our own imaginations to interact with what we watched or read. The version of the character that you see, and which makes the most sense to you is "real," because it's all unreal anyway.

And honestly? A more complex Goku who loves fighting for the thrill of it AND fighting for his friends makes the most sense anyway. We've seen it, we've seen his genuine care and concern. He's proven himself to be "pure of heart."

***Edit: They do actually include more sources that I didn't initially see which does confirm this, at least the part about seeing his family more as companions, though that doesn't change my final statement.

I just really find the fact that the creator of dragonball has stated that Goku canonically cannot feel any kind of love, just ‘companionship’, to be a extremely interesting fact. Like, if his family died he’d be like ‘No!’ and then he’d get over it fairly quickly as if they were only just acquaintances. Same goes with the rest of his friends.

The series creator apparently doesn’t like the anime’s portrayal of Goku. They always cast Goku as a hero, when in the manga he’s really only ‘saving people’ as a side bonus that comes with fighting a stronger opponent. He doesn’t purposefully go in to save anyone unless there is a fight happening at the scene.

So, If Goku hadn’t hit his head, he would’ve just been another Raditz. And it also explains why he’s rather cruel towards Gohan and neglectful towards Chichi.

Apparently Vegeta is the actual exception to his own species. He actually genuinely loves his family, -a rare trait only Goku’s mother was proven to have- whereas Goku is apparently literally unable to have those feelings. It’s kind of ironic; Vegeta is probably the one that would be the most ashamed and resentful to admit he has those kinds of feelings.

[nqueso-emergency]

I wrote this because I needed to get it off my chest. But then I didn't want to put it on my own blog because I didn't want to deal with the discourse. So, I decided to send it to you in the hope you'd put it up.

I've been in many different fandoms, and I think the only fandom where I ever very actively shipped a canon couple was Torchwood. (If there are people not shipping Jack and Ianto, please never tell me.) That means, of course, there were always other LI of my ships to deal with. And somehow, no matter the fandom (NICS, Hawaii 5-0, Sherlock (mostly), Stargate, etc pp) it's always the same: If the fic takes place at a point in canon where one or more people in the desired ship are currently in a relationship usually one of two things happens: 1. The canon LI just doesn't seem to exist in the fic. 2. There is somewhere one line about "Oh, what about Character A?" "Ah, we broke up. No big deal." (And writing this, I'm kinda laughing now about the Buck/Natalia break-up between seasons 6 and 7.)

So, it's very strange and confusing to watch this part of the Buddie fandom that's so enraged about Tommy and has made hating him their whole fandom personality, who instead of doing what's always been done with LIs that were in the way of a ship created this whole subgenre on 9-1-1 fics now whose whole focus is "How do we overcome the obstacle of the unwanted LI to get our ship". (As I write this, there are 800 fics on ao3 tagged with both ships!) Where did the mentality of "ignore the LI in the way of our ship" vanish to? It was there for other LIs of Buck and Eddie in the past, why isn't it there for Tommy? Why can't a multishipper go into the Buddie tag in peace without being slapped in the face with Tommy bashing everywhere? (And why do you have to bash Buck and Eddie, too, while doing so? I know you don't recognize it, but that's what you're doing with many of those takes about the cheating. That's what you are doing every time you make Eddie into a violent caricature just so you have someone who can beat Tommy up.)

The hate against Tommy has a very different quality and edge to it than the hate for other LIs in the past, and this new genre you all created is a huge part of that.

And before anyone starts, yes there are a lot of bashing fics about the other LI. I've read a lot of them. The vast majority of those are not about finding a way to get the LI out of the way for Buddie (especially not by glorifying Buddie cheating on their LIs) They are about exploring little things of the characters people find jarring or exaggerating those things to use as a plot or plot device. (e.g. Ana's ableist take after the whole skateboard incident. Or her unprofessional behavior of flirting with a parent during parent-teacher-conference.)

As for the very worn-out mantra/whine of "Why could I peacefully hate on the female LIs in the past but aren't allowed to do the same with Tommy?" No one would bother you if you stopped pushing your hate on everyone else.

But you're trying to infiltrate every single nook with your hatred because somehow you don't understand while you're entitled to your hate about Tommy, other people are just as equally entitled to their love and appreciation of the character and the representation he provides. It's not just the Buddie tag people are bombarded with your hate in. No matter what tag — Bathena, Henren, Madney, every single character tag — you'll stumble over Tommy hate pretty fast. Because you tag them all if they matter for your post or not. (I mean, you've done that with Buddie in general for years, which also was never okay!) Or find cheap excuses to include them in your post.

People would let you wallow in your hate peacefully if you wouldn't attack anyone who didn't agree with you. Especially those gay and bi men in this fandom who are full of gratefulness and praise for the representation of their lived experiences 9-1-1 has given them through Tommy and Bucktommy. Who've been calling you out for your hateful and phobic behavior because there is no avoiding being confronted with it.

No one would bother you if you wouldn't post public lists of people you plan to bully in the future!

I guess the point of this long-ass rant is: Get in your fucking lane and let everyone else enjoy the fandom, too. Keep your hate where others can avoid it. It's not that difficult. And believing everyone has to agree with you about your hate is a huge red flag.

Perfectly said, anon 👏

"You" = bestie boos btw

[mythica0]

Trickster

🎂:Epic the musical

🧁:Polites, Odysseus, Eurylochus

🍫: Hermes

Summary: Hermes plays a neat little trick on the big trio on the ship.

A/N: more epic!! I love ler Hermes so much🙏 also, writing three lee’s is HARD yall. Once again, the ending sucks ass, sorry. I never know how to end these things 😭

Trickster

It was a normal, monotonous day on the ship.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

Odysseus, the captain, Eurylochus, the second in command, and Polites, the best friend and also pretty high up in the ranks, were standing together, talking about random nothings as they leaned against the railing of the ship.

Meanwhile, Hermes decided that he wanted to live up to his domain as the trickster god, and flew down to the ship, hiding off to the side.

‘Ohoho this is gonna be good.’ He thought to himself as he hid, watching his victims friends from the shadows with a smug smile. And then he used his divine powers to make a slight, barely-noticeable tingling sensation on the sides of all three men.

Due to its lightness, it wasn’t abnormal at first, and they rubbed at it once or twice but nothing too crazy. But as Hermes made it slightly more noticeable and it wasn’t going away, Odysseus commented.

“Man, what is that?”

Eurylochus raised an eyebrow and responded. “What is what?”

“There’s like a weird tingling on my side.”

The other two seemed shocked and replied in unison. “You too?!”

At this declaration, they realized that something was going on. Why else would all three of them be feeling that at the same time?

Just then, Hermes revealed himself with a laugh.

“Hey there, friends!”

“Hermes?!” They all called in shock, and then the god replied.

“The one and only!”

“Are you responsible for this?” Odysseus questioned with an air of seriousness behind his voice, although for some reason he found that it lost all bite, as the tingling sensation made him have the urge to smile.

“You bet I am! Let’s take it up a notch, shall we~?” Hermes lilting voice replies, and with a wave of his hand all three men feel the tingling grow into a true tickle.

Polites instantly burst into giggles, but the more stoic two tried to hold back.

“Ehehahahaha hehehehermehehehes, whyhyhy!”

“I just wanted to, seemed like fun! It’s a neat little trick, ain’t it? Come on, Friends, why are you holding back? Laughing is fun, just let yourself go!” He directs the latter part of his statement to the two that were repressing their laughter, holding their hands over their mouths as their shoulders shook with the effort. Odysseus shook his head, not wanting to give in.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to up the ante a bit~” Hermes drawls again, and then moves the sensation to Odysseus’ thighs and Eurylochus’ armpits, their respective worst spots. Although Polites was already giggling, he decided to move it for him as well, to his tummy, the buzzing sensation increasing his giggles.

“Eee hehehehermehehes thahahat tihihickles! Ahahahahaha!” He squeaks slightly, doubling over and hugging himself around the middle, as if to block the sensation, but it doesn’t do anything for it, the sensation being entirely magical, as if coming from inside.

“I know, isn’t it great~?”

Meanwhile, Eurylochus finally broke, deep, rumbling chuckles leaving him from the feeling. Odysseus, however, was still stubbornly hanging on.

“Ahahahaha hehehermehehehes, stohohop thihis!”

“No way, I think you could use a laugh! And you, Friend,” he addresses Odysseus, “are fighting far too hard. Let the laughter consume you, my friend!” He waves his hand again, causing the feeling to intensify for all three men, and Odysseus breaks.

“Ppffft- shihihiit! Ahahahahaha!”

“There we go! Now was that so hard~”

Now all three men were giggling and laughing, squirming around. Hermes watched with a wide smile, and they all had very different reactions to the feeling.

Polites was doubled over and hugging himself still, but was also clearly enjoying himself, never once saying ‘no!’ Or ‘stop!’. Eurylochus had his arms snapped to his sides, still laughing with deep rumbling chuckles, protesting loudly. Odysseus was super embarrassed, blushing as he laughed wildly in front of his crew.

“Hehehehehermehehes, STOHOHOP!”

“Aww, but why~ this is so much fun!” Hermes pouts dramatically, holding his face.

“Speheak fohor yohoursehelf aHahahahaha!”

“I dunno~ you all sure sound like you’re having fun.”

“Nohoho whehehe ahaharent! Cuhuhut ihit ohout!” Eurylochus protested through his laughter, struggling to get the words out.

Polites spoke up from his spot. “Ihi dohont knohow Guhuys, Ihi thihink thihis ihis kihinda fuhun! Ehahahaha!”

“I knew you would~” Hermes coos, causing Polites to blush, but he doesn’t deny anything or protest at all.

“Since you’re having fun, why don’t I make this a little bit more interesting, hmm?” The god drawls again, once again increasing the sensation for all three men.

They’re all consumed by unrelenting tickles on their worst spots, the entire area being overwhelmed with fluttery, electric tingles that make them hysterical with laughter.

Polites can feel his entire tummy being assaulted with the ticklish sensations, feeling like prodding fingers and raspberries on every inch of the surface. He doesn’t deny that he’s having fun, small joyful tears forming in his eyes as he giggles.

Eurylochus can feel his whole underarm area being tickled ruthlessly, a buzzing electric sensation consuming him. It tickles so bad! And he is much more reluctant to admit that he doesn’t totally hate this, not even admitting it to himself.

Odysseus is certainly the most embarrassed of the three. He is supposed to be the captain, strong and respectable! But here he was, unable to stop himself from laughing loudly from the feeling of his legs being squeezed and scratched ticklishly. He feels his knees buckle and he grabs into the railing for support. He also refuses to admit to himself that he’s enjoying the feeling, the enjoyment being far overshadowed by embarrassment.

The crew has gathered around to watch the scene, cooing and cheering.

“Haha, they needed to be taken down a notch!”

“Aww, look how much fun Polites is having!”

“I know, right? He’s smiling so wide!”

“Haha, yeah, and I think Eurylochus and the Cap are enjoying it too, even if they don’t wanna admit it.”

The three blush more at the words, especially Odysseus, feeling humiliated at being reduced to a laughing mess in front of his men. Hermes watches, hovering around in various relaxed or playful positions, not deactivating or lowering the relentless divine tickles in the slightest.

“Look how cute you are~ all giggly and happy~” the trickster coos, floating like a school girl would lay on their stomach. He’s having a blast watching and causing the chaos, and he knows that his targets are too, even if two of them won’t admit it.

“Hehehehermehehes, cuhuhut ihihit ohohohout!” Eurylochus continues to protest, feeling as though he has to do something, anything to stop the sensation.

“I don’t think so, darling~ in fact, I don’t think you should be telling a god what to do~”

Eurylochus sees what Hermes is implying and quickly backtracks with giggly apologies. “Wahahait, ihihim sohohorry nononohohoho!”

Hermes giggles and intensifies the sensation anyway. “Yes~ tickle tickle tickle! Doesn’t that feel nice~”

“NoHOhoHO IHIT dohoHOESNT! STohop, PlehehHEASE!” Eurylochus’ chuckles raise to belly laughs, the sensation driving him mad.

Polites, despite how much fun he’s having right now, almost feels a pang of.. jealousy? At Eurylochus’ pleading, feeling like he’s missing out on something more intense. Picking up on this, somehow, Hermes looks at Polites with a teasing yet fond smile, speaking with a teasing lilt that makes Polites blush grow.

“Aww, is someone feeling a little jealous~? Dont worry, friend, let me help you with that~” Hermes does so, increasing the sensation for Polites as well, even adding some ticklish sensation to his sides as well, sensing just how much the optimistic man is enjoying himself.

Polites’ Jealousy immediately vanishes, replaced by a giddy panic mixed with happiness, his squeaky giggles growing louder. He nearly cheers aloud, but decides against it, not wanting to embarrass himself more than he already has. “Eehehehhahahahaha ihihits sohoho tihihickly! Ahahahahaha!”

“Aww, I know it is~ it feels good, doesn’t it~?” Polites doesn’t respond directly, but he doesn’t deny it either, and his body language conveys how he’s really feeling, so he doesn’t really have to respond.

Odysseus is leaning on the railing for support, falling nearly entirely to the floor from the unending, debilitating ticklish shocks sending through his legs. He is so embarrassed, but despite that, he’s also, maybe..having.. just a bit of fun. (It’s a lot of fun, but he’s not even gonna think about that) His worst spot is being tickled absolutely ruthlessly, the electric sensation not letting up for a single moment. His laughter is loud and frantic, but it does carry a tone of genuine joy as well.

“AhaHAhaHAHAHAH! MahahaHAKe ihihit StohohoHOP-!”

“What’s wrong, too ticklish~?” Hermes’ teasing words make his already bright red face get even brighter, his embarrassment evident on his face that’s also adorned with a wide smile, just as his two friends who are squirming and laughing besides him.

“Plehehehehease, hehehehermehehes, ihi CAHAHANT Tahahake ihihit!” Eurylochus’ voice rumbles with his deep laughter, a low, loud sound.

“Sure you can~ all you gotta do is laugh, and you’re doing just fine at that~”

“Heheheehehahahahahahaha! Ihihit tihihickles sohoho muhuhuch! Hahahahahha!” Polites’ happy giggling continues to fill the air of the ship, earning coos from the watching audience.

Hermes decides that Odysseus needs to join his friends in the more intense feeling, increasing it for him as well, making his legs fully fail, him collapsing to the floor in loud fits of laughter, kicking in order to try and expel the sensation, or at the very least deal with it. “AHAHAH- NohoHO- ahahahahahaha!”

“Oop, man down! Looks like someone’s awful ticklish~”

“AHaHAHA NOHOT THEHERE, PLEHEASE!”

“Oh, but this spot is just so fun!”

Eurylochus continues to let out Belly laughs, his being the deepest of the three, filling the air with the booming sound. “Hahahahahahaha ehehenohohough, plehehehehease! Ahahahahaha!”

“Why should I~ you all seem to be having a good time~”

Polites is still giggling happily, holding his stomach with small tears of joy rolling down his face. He is having an absolute blast right now, and is the most open about it.

Odysseus, meanwhile, was stuck in absolute ticklish agony, laughing loudly as his thighs were assaulted with ruthless tickles, forcing endless laughter from his chest. He, too, had tears of laughter falling, the feeling be so unbelievably intense, and despite the fact that he doesn’t want to admit it, it feels so good. What made it worse is that he couldn’t even fight back! There were no hands to push at, no pin to struggle against, but yet no matter how much he kicked and squirmed it did nothing to help alleviate the maddening feeling.

Eurylochus was much in the same position, arms pinned to his sides but it doing nothing to block or protect him from the intense tingling tickles on his underarms, making his deep belly laughs ring throughout the ship.

Hermes could tell that they were reaching their limit, so decided for one last hurrah before ending the feeling.

“You guys ready for a grand finale~”

“NOHOHO!”

“Plehehehehease dohohont!”

Eurylochus and Odysseus protested loudly, whereas Polites just felt flutters of anticipation in his chest.

Hermes ignored the pleas, and for said ‘grand finale’, made the three have even more intense sensations all over their most ticklish spots, driving them mad with laughter.

It only lasted for a few seconds, the men’s hysterical laughter filling the ship like a joyful symphony, but to them it felt like an hour. It was so unbelievably intense, probably the strongest tickling any of them had ever experienced.

It was absolutely unbearable, and although it was a little enjoyable, they each knew that they couldn’t take it for more than a few seconds.

After the longest 5 seconds of their lives, Hermes snapped and the sensation disappeared, leaving just residual giggles.

After a minute or so that the men took to cool their breathing and stop giggling, Hermes spoke.

“Did you have fun~~” the blush that had started to fade immediately returned in full force.

“Yeah..” Polites spoke quietly, not bothering to deny it despite it being embarrassing to admit.

“Absolutely not!” Eurylochus and Odysseus chimed in at the same time, despite it being not fully true.

Odysseus continued. “Please, never do that again.”

Hermes did an exaggerated pout. “Booo, you’re no fun~”

Odysseus just sighed. “At the very least can you not do that while I’m in front of everyone?”

“I make no promises~”

With final goodbyes and well wishes, Hermes flew off to continue his job, leaving the three flustered from the experience.

“Agree to never talk about this again?”

Odysseus spoke and the other two nodded.

“Agreed.” Eurylochus continued. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

They dispersed to do various things and continue their jobs, but they couldn’t deny that they had a slight lightness in their chests after the experience, the boredom of the day having been lifted slightly.

It was a pretty cool trick.

———THE END————————————————

[justanothersanjilover]

So I got this idea about a Zosan Soulmate AU and just had to write a little bit about it. I don't know how fast I can update this, but its a start and I’m going to keep writing it 😊

My Name on your tongue

Part 1

Paring: Zosan (maybe Sanzo, too)

Soulmate AU

Triggers: Child abuse, swear words, death

Six years old

“In our world, you get something very special when you turn 18. You get to summon a familiar - an animal, mythical or natural - that will be your companion throughout your whole life. The animal you summon is based on what you need in life and what fits you. No one knows who’s assigning the animal to you, but it always fits.

Now, if you are very passionate and loving toward your familiar and it returns that feeling, there is a chance that it will turn into a human and become your soulmate. But this only happens when there exists such a strong bond that both of you would endure the greatest pain imaginable for the other. The bond has to be so strong that you’d die for each other.

Most people don't put in the effort because why go to that length for an animal? Also, there is no greater need to be with your soulmate unless your familiar turns into it. You can perfectly live without ever getting your soulmate.”

“Is father your soulmate?” Sanji wanted to know, looking up at his mum.

Sora shook her head, her expression somewhat painful, but her son didn't pick up on that fact.

“But…you don't have a familiar around.”

“I know,” Sora swallowed drily. “She…she died. She wanted to protect me and got badly injured. I couldn't help her.”

Sanji looked shocked at her.

“I’m sorry…”

He snuggled against his mother to comfort her. She smiled sadly and brushed a hand through his blond hair.

“When you get your familiar, make sure to protect them. It’s a really bad feeling to lose them forever.”

“I promise. And I will love them so much! I can't wait to meet them!”

Sanji was so different from his siblings, and Sora was thankful for that, but she knew that he would have it worse than them. While pregnant with him and his three brothers, her husband genetically modified them - against Sora’s will. He made them stronger, more durable - as he called it - faster and better in anything. He got rid of their emotions and made sure they would become his best soldiers. In doing this, he also hoped to influence the familiar they’d get. He wanted them to have big, brutal animals - monsters to make their enemies shake in fear. Sora had watched him silently get rid of the emotions and feelings of their oldest child, their daughter Rejiu. He somehow managed to manipulate her into an obedient, emotionless kid, strong and fast, and an expert in poisons despite her young age. She was his first perfect soldier.

But Sora wasn't standing by as he tried to corrupt her other children! So, after learning about Judges doing, Sora took a poison to destroy the modifications. Unfortunately, it only worked on Sanji. On the one hand, she was happy for him; on the other, she was sad and devastated. Sanji would never have any worth for his father; he’d always be the failure, and she was the reason why.

Although Sanji always smiled when he came to visit, she saw the bruises and cuts. She saw the pain behind his young eyes. She knew what his siblings and father were doing to him, and she could do nothing to stop them. So she always tried to give him the best times when he came to visit her. Unfortunately, the poison she took destroyed her body and made her bedbound.

Hugging Sanji tightly, she did her best not to start to cry. She knew that her days were counted…and it would be the end of the night when she would leave Sanji behind to deal with everything all by himself. The only ray of light was that at least on his eighteenth birthday, he would get a familiar that surely would protect him. That was why she told him all about familiars! She wanted him to know as much as possible, as much as humanity found out about them. Sanji sucked everything up like a sponge!

The only thing she wasn't allowed to tell him was how to summon his familiar. Because if a familiar was summoned before the eighteenth birthday, there were terrible side effects. Sometimes, the familiar wasn't fully developed….like the child. Other times, the child couldn't hold the image of the familiar (which was important), and it would turn out deformed. And then there were times when the familiar was an adult and got really protective and possessive of the child - sometimes so much it had to be put down because no one could touch the child without getting attacked, even when the kid was hurt, starving or anything else putting its life in danger. So she wouldn't tell Sanji - even if a protective familiar wouldn't be the worst…she wanted them to have a chance at getting real friends, and Sora hoped Sanji would be allowed to find his soulmate. She hoped he could experience this purest kind of love in the world.

“You need to go,” Sora mumbled into Sanji’s hair. “It’s past visiting time.”

“I don't want to…”

“I know, love. I know. But your father will get mad if you stay, and you know that.”

Sanji nodded, suppressing sobs, as he pulled away from his mother. He lifted his head and smiled at her.

“I’ll come again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, do that. I can't wait to see you again, my little angel.”

Sora hugged him tight and placed a kiss on top of his head. Why should she tell him that she wouldn't be there in the morning? It would only upset him and make him sad and guilty. She felt her spirits leave her body slowly but surely. At the end of the night, she’d be dead, and Sanji would be alone. Before she let him go, she brushed a hand through his hair and made him look up into her eyes.

“Remember that I will always love you, my little sunshine. Regardless of what will happen in your future. I’ll love you every day of your life and after it.”

Sanji looked a bit confused, but as soon as Sora smiled, he smiled back, placed a quick, wet kiss on her cheek and ran out - so his father wouldn't punish him.

~

“Useless!”

“I’m trying…” Sanji sobbed, holding the side of his face - it pulsed with pain, and he was sure his lip was bleeding.

“That's the point!” His father yelled. “You are trying! You shouldn't have to try! You should be able just to do it!”

“But I…” another blow, and Sanji flew backward against a pillar of the training room - he groaned in pain when he hit the stone with full force.

“You are weak! A false experiment! A fucking failure! I should just get rid of you!”

Judge was towering over his son like death himself. And Sanji couldn't do anything different than feel fear and hurt and disgust at his own body. The poison from his father's lips seeped into his mind and planted a dangerous seed. He cried when Judge grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and held him up to his face.

“And that's why you don't have a familiar. You will never get one! Never! I took that ability from you because it would be as weak as you are, and I don't have use for two failures in my kingdom!”

Sanji sobbed uncontrollably. Ever since he asked his father about his own familiar - which was a big, dragon-like creature always lurking behind his throne - he left no chance unused to point out that Sanji would never have one. Sanji didn't understand why he would rip this opportunity from him, why he was such a mistake in his father's eyes. Just because he wasn't as strong as his siblings? Because his skin started to bleed when cut or punched hard enough? Because he cried when he got hurt?

“Get out of my sight before I start losing my temper,” Judge growled and tossed him aside like a back of garbage.

Sanji scrambled to his feet and ran from the training room, hoping his brothers wouldn't wait outside like they did most of the time. His hopes crashed when he closed the door, and laughter sounded behind him.

“Look at that,” Yonji said.

“The weakling is back out,” Ichiji grinned.

“Seems like he still can't handle a punch,” Niji snickered.

His brothers gathered around him, laughing and pointing at him. Sanji felt tears in his eyes but tried to swallow them. He hated to cry in front of his brothers, just as much as he hated to do so in front of his father. His eyes searched for pink hair, and surely, he found his sister, standing in the background but grinning as evil as the rest of them.

“Leave me alone,” he sobbed - knowing very well it would turn in the opposite of what he wanted…but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“What?”

“We couldn’t hear you over all your whining.”

“I think he said we should show him how to fight.”

And a blink of an eye later, he crashed against the wall and slid down to the floor. Lying there, he curled up into a ball to at least try and shield his stomach and face from the kicks and blows that rained down on him like a hailstorm.

In the end, he was beaten bloody, and they left him where he was lying. His eyes stared into nothingness while his tears mixed with the blood and formed little puddles on the floor.

Hours later, he was able to drag himself to his bedroom. Curling up in his bed, Sanji felt tears in his eyes again.

“Why?” He cried into his pillow. “Why am I not like them? Why do I have to be this way?”

He knew why, his mother had told him, but still…There were moments when he hated his emotions, and he would give them up just to see the same smile on his father's face, pointed at him like he was giving his siblings.

He was worthless, and that's also why he would never have a familiar, which made him cry even more. Since his mother died two months ago, he always comforted himself with the knowledge that he’d get a chance to meet his soulmate. But because he was weak, because of his emotions, Judge took this ability, this gift from him. The first time he mentioned it to Sanji, his whole world was shattered. He didn't even feel the hits his father was dealing. He was numb…almost lifeless. The only thing he was looking forward to - the only thing that made his little heart and mind strong enough to survive and not give up - was the reassuring thought of meeting his familiar.

After his breakdown, he thought maybe, if he got better, if he could prove to his father that he was worth keeping around…maybe he would give him the ability to get his familiar back.

“I have to…get stronger…” Sanji sobbed while drifting to sleep.

All he wanted was to be loved and be part of this family…

[incomingalbatross]

So I put this poll out there a few weeks ago, and I sort of processed the tags and comments as they came in, but I hadn't revisit it after the deadline passed. (Thank you everyone who contributed, either by vote or commentary!)

What I've come away with here is that... there are no magic answers, and a fair number of people are wrestling with the same worries as me. Sad but also reassuring to know I'm not the only one in this boat. :P The three leading answers are "using or planning to use a pen name," "don't expect to be famous enough for it to matter," and, "I DON'T talk about my original writing here."

And now I'm gonna muse out loud about my own perspective. The third of the above options is my current answer, and unfortunately the other two don't really fit my needs, because

a pen name that could be linked to this blog is arguably MORE revealing of private info than one that links to my real life - knowing my real name wouldn't give you access to my dumb fandom opinions and life complaints over the past 6-7 years

there is, for better or for worse, a little Catherine de Burgh voice in my head insisting that if I ever DO write a novel I shall be proficient. I admit it's hubristic but I want to plan for success here xP

And the dilemma that I'm running into, when I think about this, basically is:

On the one hand, if I got seriously into original writing and posted it on here, and then it became successful, there could be an easy bridge for anyone to make between Public-Facing Professional Author Me and Anonymous Private Fandom Me AND whatever I've dropped about IRL Me in the safety of anonymity. This is the kind of thing the internet has made me paranoid about, not for any specific reason, but because I believe separation of spheres is a good thing and there should be some barriers between different parts of my llife.

On the other hand, I would love to talk about my abandoned, languishing writing ideas on here, because I've learned how good a mutual circle is for my fanfiction writing motivation, and while I do technically have an irl writing group right now it's... not the same as Tumblr would be. And if the options are "never finish anything because I'm avoiding community support" or "deal with the potential consequences of potential success after having written something..." Well. The pros of the writeblr approach are clear.

Honestly, the answer might be a sideblog! There might be a way to just... not separate my IDs on here entirely, but an extra step or two of obscurity so it would be harder for someone to make the connection from the outside. I've seen how that can work for other people, and it might be the best answer for me... I'd have to think through the logistics and the ins and outs first.

question I've been mulling over for a while, because the #1 reason I don't talk about original writing ideas on here is that I wouldn't want a future professional/public identity (real name or otherwise) to be connected to my personal/for-fun Tumblr identity

(I would love to hear elaboration on any of these in the tags)

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 4: Under His Spell

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve been Coriolanus’s guest for a while now, yet you still feel drawn to him rather than wanting to escape. One evening after you express how much you miss your family, Coriolanus decides to get your mind off things and shows off his lab.

Warning: 21+ (use of drugs), mentions of smut, non-con, degeneration, nicknames(slut, good girl), mentions of oral (f! receiving), use of aphrodisiacs, stalking, possession, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping

A/N: omg…I can’t believe i’m back to posting. i can’t believe y’all are still reading and some have been waiting a while for an update on anything so…here. this series is will be finished first before i get to Summer Highs and everything else i promised. it’s been such a struggle since i last put anything out, and im still working on feeling mentally better, but i do want to get back into writing. i hope you guys enjoy this and my suggestions are still open. i’m also welcoming any ideas for Summer Highs or a Joel fic and i may start writing for Nicholas Alexander Chavez 👀 so stayed tuned ♥︎

P.S. this was inspired by the Michael’s crafts white Halloween decor so iykyk

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

After that morning, you felt different. Different about him and to a certain extent, the circumstances that brought you here.

Over the next two weeks, you slowly give up on your plans to escape. Seeing as you were under constant guard and his own watchful eye, escape felt impossible and eventually your family had been told that President Snow was hosting people near his palace as The Games approach. And somehow his web of lies worked. You still hadn’t seen them and you were starting to miss them dearly.

Coriolanus notices and does his absolute best to distract you. He sets up modeling gigs for you during most of the week, then he starts to pamper you. Every night treating you to the most scrumptious meals and the most relaxing baths. He starts to dress you more often, making sure to adorn you in the finest silk, cashmere, cotton and jewelry Panem has. He makes sure you get plenty of sleep and makes sure that the modeling gigs keep you front and center in the fashion magazines. This is all you could have dreamed of. You fall under his spell, yet the idea of freedom lingers in your mind. At the same time, it seems to miraculously fade away the moment he lays you down on his bed. In addition to luxurious treatment, Coriolanus knew how to take a woman to bed. His tongue was a drug, his mouth, a vice. He would lay you on your back, spread your legs and spend hours pleasing you. He loves your taste. Slightly bitter, but oh so sweet. He would take his time, dancing his tongue against your folds and diving into your cunt. He loves to make you moan and squeal.

Coriolanus always makes sure you let it out. He wants the whole palace to hear how good he makes you feel. He would hold you down, sometimes tie your wrists to the bed. He loves the power he holds over you, and loves seeing you bare on his bed. And you were starting to look forward to him inviting you into his room every evening. Your core was always throbbing for him, wanting to feel his full length buried deep inside you. He loved to feel your tight warmth, he loved how you clenched and gripped him. He loved how your face scrunched up, distorted from feeling so good. He would sometimes plunge a finger or two into your mouth, making you suck on them while he picks up the pace. His hips slamming into you as he commanded you to degrade yourself.

“Tell me you’re a good little slut.”

“I’m a good little slut, sir.”

He liked when you called him that. Even though he told you to call him Coriolanus, in the bedroom he required Mr. President or Sir.

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“Your cock feels so good Mr. President. So so good”

“Good girl”

One night at dinner, you stare thoughtfully at the young blonde and take small sips of your Gazpacho. Coriolanus notices and stops eating. You raise and eyebrow at him.

“Sir…?” You question. He looks up at you. “Coriolanus.” You correct yourself and he smiles

“What’s wrong my dear?”

“N-n-nothing is wrong. I just have something on my mind”

“Well…tell me.” He demands

“It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve seen my family…I’ve been missing them.”

“I bet you have, but my darling…” he holds out his hand and you take it “Not quite yet…” he tells you, giving you a playful smile.

“When though…I feel like they must be worried about me and I just want- “

Coriolanus’s face drops and he gives you a stern look, squeezing your hand. You whine at the pain.

“Watch it, my dear…you are getting ahead of yourself now. You have been so good for me. Do not mess it up.”

“But I just want- “

“It’s not about what you want. Don’t you understand?”

Your heart sinks and eyes well with tears. You want to cry but won’t in front of him. You won’t show that weakness. You collect yourself quickly and nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll be able to see them again. When I think you’re ready. Am I clear?”

You nod your head and look down in your lap. He clears his throat, and you look back up at him.

“I said, am I clear?”

“Yes sir” you quip up.

“Good girl. I have something to show you after dinner.”

“I look forward to it” you tremble slightly as you say it.

After dinner, he stands up and walks next to you, holding out his hand.

“I want you to follow me.”

You nod and obey. He holds your hand, guides you up and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a silk black blindfold and smiles. Without a word, you turn around and he places it over your eyes.

“I’ve noticed how your eyes wander whenever we walk through the palace. I’ve seen eyes like that before. And they always leave me. Or try to. I’m not ready to let you go quite yet and I really don’t want to have to punish you if you have any ideas.”

“I-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I can tell you’re wanting to settle in. But I see your eyes. And how they linger and plot.”

“I-I’m sorry…it’s just my family, my life, everything has slipped away from me.”

Then you feel his firm grip wrap under your chin. He pulls you against his chest and nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He places a delicate kiss under your chin then whispers in your ear.

“My darling, I know you surely miss the life you had, but have I not shown you enough of what this life offers. Are you not satisfied with what I’ve given you? What more I could give. I’ll always take care of you. Don’t you want that?”

You sigh and nod almost unconsciously. You’re completely under his trance.

“Good. Now come with me.”

He takes your hand, guiding you through the palace. You intensely listen to the clapping of your collective footsteps as you pace down the hall. After a few moments the air grows cold and quiet. You hear an old iron door creek open, then slam shut as you both walk inside. Coriolanus steps behind you and takes off your blindfold. You blink and look around. The room is ghostly white, as if it’s been draped in old sheets. A chill crawls down your spine and Coriolanus soaks in your look of terror and confusion. As you look around the room, you notice a variety of statues and decor. It almost looks like it could be a dungeon or a crypt.

“What is this place?”

“This is my lab. I’m quite fond of experimenting.”

“Experimenting?”

“A habit from my school days. I used to study under Dr. Volumnia Gaul. She would always have something new she was working on. Especially during the Hunger Games season.”

“Oh-“ you gasp

He pauses and watches you as you walk around the room. You are immediately drawn to the back where a tall statue of a woman sitting, draped in a veil, and holding a skull. You recognize the stone as marble, feeling haunted by its stillness. At the base lies a bouquet of faded pink flowers, not quite as white as the ones in the garden. These flowers almost look dead, but still have a bit of life left. Next to her, a row of glass cabinets. You glance at them and inside is a variety of test tubes, flasks, and cylinders. Upon a closer look, some of the test tubes are filled up with what appears to be crystals, rocks, some mushrooms, butterfly wings, spider legs, and other dead bugs. You grimace and look away. Next to the tubes are a variety of silver tools hung up on the wall. A variety of scissors, knives, and scapulas, which are all polished and reflect back at you.

You turn around and look at the other side of the room. Another statue stands tall. Another veiled woman, like a bride, holding out her own stone bouquet. At her base, a skull with a snake weaving out of the eye socket and through the mouth. Feeling slightly terrified, you look away and immediately your eyes fall upon the shelves littered with small animal bones, skulls, more jars of dead insects, gems, jewelry, and coins. Everything seems to have its place. Then you glance over to Coriolanus, standing as still as the statues. He watches you intensely with a sly smile across his face.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Without a word, he walks over to one of his glass cases and opens it. He pulls out a small vial filled with a dark red liquid.

“I have a new concoction. I made my first sample yesterday.” He holds the vial up delicately in his hand.

Your eyes widen and you give him a puzzling look.

“What is it?”

“Well based on the ingredients, a wave of euphoria, a calming sensation throughout your whole body. Similar to the chocolate I gave you, but more long lasting and with a bit more visuals…”

“Visuals?” You question

“Yes, normal everyday things may look more interesting, more intense. You’ll be fine of course. I’ll be hear, watching after you.”

“W-why do you want me to try?”

“Because, I think you’d like this. It heightens your sensations in a way I think will be good for you….”

“So you’re using me as a test subject.”

“No. I always try it on myself first if I can, and then…I like to share.”

“And what happens if I say…no…” you hesitate

He looks at you with confusion, striding over to you. His eyes never leave your own as a chill creeps down your spine. He pauses, his face inches away from your own. He tucks a hair behind your ear and kisses you gently. He pulls back, hand caressing your chin.

“Then you say no…” he kisses you again quickly. He holds the vial up to you, looking at it like it’s a delicious treat. You look at him then the vial. In a moment of pure impulse, you take it from his fingers. He abruptly turns to face you, and you make full eye contact with him, sipping the red liquid. The taste is so strong, and warm. As it slides down your throat it almost burns your esophagus like acid and you hold back a cough. He gazes upon you in awe, smirking at you, eyeing you

“Good girl”

“H-how long until the effects kick in?”

“About thirty to forty five minutes. We will stay here for now.”

You nod and slowly lean into his lips. This time you kiss him. It’s slow, graceful, and unexpected. Coriolanus revels in it, he loves that you are starting to love him back. He chuckles to himself and pulls back.

“I love when you kiss me and mean it. I love that you want me.”

“It comforts me in a way. To have formed a relationship with you. Even though you…you..”

“Stole you away?” He finishes your sentence

You nod and look away. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

“But you’ve seen what I can offer you. Haven’t you. You can’t resist it. You can’t resist me. Can you?”

You nod slowly as he captures your lips in a fierce manner. You can barely breathe as his lips move against yours. You welcome it all the same. His aggression. His passion. He wants to consume you. Own you. And he does.

“You love it…don’t you..”

“Y-Y-yes, this has truly been the most luxurious and cared for I’ve felt in my life.”

“Good, as it should be.” He resumes his lips, consuming your own. You and him stay like this for a while. Passionately clinging to each other's lips. His hands move to clutch your hips and he eventually pulls back again to look at you.

“How do you feel?”

You take a moment to look at your surroundings. Things feel normal. Until they don’t. The room looks different. The lights feel more intense, and then when you stare too long, things begin to swirl. Only slightly. Only enough to make you intrigued by what was seemingly normal surroundings. Everything has become the most interesting thing that you could look at right now. As you continue to look around the room, looking at the various glass cabinets, lab experiments, everything, even the statues, seems to move. As if they are growing and swirling in the space around you. Time feels like it slows down and your immediate reaction is to smile at it all. Something about the way the room moves makes you giggle, and feel light.

“Good” you nod

“You’re starting to feel the effects aren’t you”

“I-I think so yes…”

“Good. It made me feel curious. Do you feel curious?”

You nod and he grabs your chin again.

“Speak up”

“Yes, Coriolanus, it makes me feel good. I feel curious as well.”

“Let me give you a tour of the lab now that you’re in the right mindset.”

He takes your hand and walks you around his lab. He tells you about the various experiments, tools, and ingredients that he uses. Even in this state, you can see how passionate he is. How much he enjoys talking about this side of himself, sharing it with you specifically. And just as he told you, you do find yourself curious in a new way under the influence of the concoction. Everything that you observe feels as though it has its own personality and yet somehow it’s all connected to the other experiments and the whole room. You can’t really explain it.

Then he takes you over to another set of cabinets. Only this time. They are locked behind an iron cage, painted white to match everything else in the room. He pulls a key from his pocket. Coriolanus unlocks the cabinet and behind the doors are rows and rows of vials similar to the one that he showed you, except each one is labeled differently. They are all different colors as well, ranging from red to purple to green and even midnight black. Yet, one vial sticks out to you in particular. It’s as clear as the glass that contains it and for a second, you’re not even sure that there’s anything in it. Upon further inspection, you can see the rim of liquid that fills to the top just below the cork. It intrigues and entices you. You wonder what it is. Coriolanus, picks up on your curiosity.

“I called that one liquid death”

“Liquid death?” you ask

“Yes, it took me a while to finally come up with the perfect concoction, especially to make it appear as it does. I wanted to make something that was hidden in plain sight so that when one's… enemies need to be… eliminated… They would never know what is coming. So, I was able to create a tasteless, colorless, concoction that can take ones…problems out in an instant.” He explains

You look at him with a hit of fear, then you smile and giggle.

“That’s so smart, Coriolanus.” But you only half mean it

He smiles back, giddy at your excitement. Meanwhile, in the back of your mind the sound of freedom rings again. This could be your answer. You could poison him and be free. How would you get to it though, how would you get back here without him knowing? And how would you get the key to the lab? Is it the same key as the one to open this cabinet? Your thoughts shift as he takes your hand again leading you out of the room. He locks up the cabinet quickly. You still feel the effects of the concoction he gave and as he pulls you away you look back one last time at the lab. You look at the silver key, in his hand, but only for a brief moment before he stops to stand in front of you. He pulls the blindfold out of his pocket and wraps it around your eyes as he slips the key into his pocket. You try to commit the key to memory, the shine, the shape. It’s the same one he used for the cabinet, and he uses it now to close up the lab.

“Let’s go to the garden. I think you’ll like it under this state.”

When you arrive at the garden, he takes the blindfold off and you feel the cool air hit your face. You look out onto the familiar white roses. As you walk around, taking a closer look, they appear to swirl and dance. You let out a small laugh of disbelief and amazement.

“You like it?” He asks

You nod and he takes your hand. He guides you around and even though you’ve become quite familiar, it feels like a whole new experience.

“So how long will the effects last?” You ask

“About another hour, then you’ll feel normal, well almost normal.”

“What does that mean?” You question

“Well, when I took it I felt…needy for you after.”

“Needy for me?”

“Mhmm…but you were modeling so I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Oh…” you say plainly

“So..” he kisses your knuckles. “I do hope you will join me in my bedroom tonight.”

And just like that he switches the flip. You blush, and feel vulnerable to his charm. You let out a soft, innocent. laugh and look away.

“I thought that was a given”

“Well my dear, I hope you know, you always have a choice. And it seems like you keep choosing me…”

You gaze back up at him, smiling slightly. You lean up and kiss him. This time you make it soft and sweet. You slowly move your lips against his, letting him savor you. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer to him. After one last soft kiss he leans back and sighs.

“You’re so much different than the others. You want to escape, but don’t. Yet, you don’t praise me in the way the others conceded. And even then, some part of you cares about me. Do you realize how perfect you are?”

“I-I don’t think I’m perfect.”

“You are for me…I always wanted to find someone who could challenge me in a way. You are so curious to me. Do you know how many times the girls I’ve had stay here, try to run away the next day. Or how many times they gave in, thinking that I would choose them and let them have their lives back. But you, you just wait, wait to see what my next move will be and you’ve grown to become fond of me.”

He kisses your cheek.

“I know you do want your life back, I know this isn’t how you envisioned yourself, but it’s growing on you. I can see.”

“You are much kinder than I would have thought given how you…”

“Like to take what isn’t mine.” He finishes your sentence

You nod. He brushes your hair behind your ear and smiles. He gives you a quick kiss, then steps back to look at you fully.

“So, as I said, I hope to see you in my chambers tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and walks away. As he does, you watch him. When he returns inside, two guards come out. They stay at the top of the stairs, yet you know they aren’t just guarding the building. You sigh and look around at the garden.

Everything is still swirling and swimming around you. You glance up at the stars and gasp. The twinkling lights look as if they glitter in the sky. You are in awe and aren’t sure how long you stand to look, but eventually you get cold and tired. As you walk in, the effect of the concoction begins to wear off and you feel less sleepy than you expect. Instead, just as Coriolanus predicted, you get extremely needy. You haven’t felt this on edge in years and you Immediately think of Coriolanus's tongue soaking your pussy. As you make your way inside, the guards stop you.

“Do you wish to sleep in your chamber’s or the President’s tonight?”

“President Snow’s” you answer simply.

꧁🝮꧂

Next Chapter

[peterm4rker]

from the rooftops || m.l

three. or so he thought (written)

the morning was more frantic than usual at apartment 16.

four people sat around your room, munching on their bowls of fruit loops and almond milk as they watched their dear friend pace around her room. there was an enormous pile of clothing sitting on your bed, different outfits sprawled around as they waited to be chosen.

“okay, so, which one do you all like best between one and five?” you asked, looking at your friends expectantly. 

“four, that skirt looks amazing on you” yujin spoke, hand over her mouth as she continued eating

“agreed, but maybe with the shoes you chose for two” chanhee added, younghoon and rei nodding along.

“are we sure? 100%?” you triple checked, earning a loud and exasperated “yes!” from rei as she threw a pillow at you, urging you to go to the bathroom and change.

picking an outfit was never much hardship in the morning, as long as you looked decent and felt comfortable everything was perfect. but today was different, because you had an unofficial first date with mark and you had to blow him away. you got dressed as quick as you could after glancing at the time, knowing that younghoon would murder you if you made him late to class again. 

you left as quickly as you could, parting ways with the group once you found yourself in your destination, each heading to their respective classes with goodbyes and enthusiastic goodlucks. the hours between lectures ticked slowly and painfully, your patience running lower than normal as you kept thinking of the cute boy that would hopefully be waiting for you outside of your last class.

the clock hit 1:30 just as mr. hong finalised and dismissed the class, allowing you to fling your bag over your shoulder and exit the classroom as fast as you could. you stopped in your tracks at the door, breath catching in your throat at the sight of a slightly nervous looking mark lee. he stood to the side, leaning on the wall as he played with his fingers. cute.

you walked towards him with a small smile on your lips, gently tapping his shoulders to get his attention. his eyes widened slightly and his lips mirrored yours as he raised his hand on a small wave.

“hey, yn” he muttered. he seemed shyer than what you had initially thought, and it was incredibly endearing.

“hey, mark, thank you for waiting for me” you gave him a bright smile and he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat.

mark shook his head before replying “don’t worry about it, you ready?”

you nodded and you both began making your way to the cafeteria, comfortable but uncertain silence surrounding you. you ordered your usual coffee and sat on a table outside, pulling out your computer and looking up at him.

“thank you for doing this, by the way, i hope i'm not too much trouble” you spoke, and mark knew it was the sweetest sound he would ever hear.

“not at all, thank you for showing interest” he bowed his head in politeness, causing your heart to melt a little bit.

“of course, now tell me what this is all about” 

and that's how you spent a good hour, listening to him explaining complicated biochemistry concepts as your brain struggled to take them in and write notes about them at the same time, not completely comprehending how a person could talk about the subject so fluidly. mark spoke as if he was talking about his morning routine, with such naturality and comfortability that he made it sound easy.

but it wasn’t, not at all.

“so what you’re saying is basically that In high-temperature conditions, shifts in microbial composition may reveal a pronounced reduction in mesophilic organisms, with a concurrent increase in thermotolerant and potentially pathogenic taxa?” you asked, a frown decorating your face as you read what you had written out of his explanation.

“uhm, yeah, that’s a part of it” he chuckled at how confused you looked. his words made your eyes widened in surprise.

“part of it? how do you even do this every day?” you groaned as you let your forehead fall onto the table, causing mark to laugh once again.

“it's really interesting once you understand it, i promise” he smiled as he caught your eyes when you looked back up.

“i'm sure it is” you sighed, rubbing your eyes under the glasses you were obligated to use by the impending light of your screen.

“wanna move on to proliferation of anaerobes?” he asked, the side of his mouth curved in a small amused smile as he watched your exasperated expression.

“sure, go ahead” your unenthusiastic tone earned you a chuckle from his lips, causing you to smile before attempting to focus back as he began to speak again.

another hour passed as he continued to explain, helping you write key points of the article. you noticed a frown appear on his face as he looked up to the clock on the wall, to which you tilted your head in question.

“i  have to head out, i have a class” the boy commented, opening the way for disappointment to set on your chest. 

“that’s okay, i’ll stay for a bit to finish up” you gave him a reassuring smile as he put his stuff away.

“it was nice to hang out with you, yn, we should, uhm, do it more often” he almost stuttered, his ears turning a soft pink.

“definitely, i'll text you” you nodded with a smile. he waved at you one last time before turning away and walking out of the cafe. you watched him until he was out of your sight, waiting until you were sure he was gone before hiding your face in your hands to muffle a squeal.

★🕷️⋆｡ °⋆

mark walked with a pep on his step.

he had just spent a good two hours with the love of his life, even if she didn’t know that she was. he had made her laugh many times, as well as shown off his brain. literally nothing could ruin the marvellous afternoon he was having.

or so he thought until he felt a familiar dizziness, a tingle on his body that never brought good news. his body reacted out of instinct as he looked for the nearest place to change, finding one of the inhabited buildings and booking it towards it as sneakily as he could.

his suit was on faster than he could even think, and he climbed to the tallest ceiling the moment he was ready. nothing looked suspicious from there, but he knew something was wrong.

his suspicions were proven right as he heard a loud scream coming from the humanities building.

the humanities building.

he reacted as fast as he ever had, swinging towards the sound with his heart beginning to race. he looked for you frantically as he moved, attempting to identify the threat and more importantly, make sure you were safe.

It didn't take long to find who was wreaking havoc at such early hours. the “villain” (if you could even call him that) looked like he was losing his mind. his eyes were open wide and bloodshot as he laughed maniacally. he didn't seem to have any type of weapon, he was most likely harmless compared to others mark had defeated before.

spidey’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud echo that he barely physically dodged. soundwaves.

he moved as fast and sneakily as he thought, wanting to minimise the damage that could happen if the villain realised he was there. he knew he had to apprehend his hands first since they were seemingly the sources of the sounds, so he moved to be able to approach him from behind.

the next moments were a blur. the level of hyperfixation and awareness mark experienced when fighting always led him to act by impulse, ending up in blurred images and, more frequently than not, painful reminders of what had gone on.

the adversary was defeated quickly enough for no one to get hurt, mark making sure his hands were completely wrapped in webs before tying him around a lamppost for the police to take when they got there. he moved on to make sure there were no people harmed, his eyes finally finding the ones he seeked the most.

“mam, are you okay?” he asked, doing his best to change his voice as he looked at you. your eyes widened with surprise, your head moving up and down quickly in affirmation.

“yes, nothing happened to me” you reassured, stare still fixated on the figure in front of you. you were talking to spiderman. spiderman was talking to you.

what the fuck.

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

★ word count ;; 1.5k

★ authors note ;; im sorry for a written chapter so early on but its needed!

★ tag list ;; @winwintea @neozon3nha @kittydollzz @sleepyvic @injunnie-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @n0hyuck @julsinglee @leejenoenthusiast @morkiee @taroddori @mrsjohnnysuh @sunghoonsgfreal @m1ng1swife @grlscrushing @flaminghotyourmom @johnsuhsbanana @stqrgr7 @sibwol @synthwxve @222brainrot @jeonghansshitester @gomdoleemyson @ninahorikoshifr @chriscentric @flamingi @ldh0000 @clean-soap

[nonbinarytoast]

Alright well if @theannoyingmosquitoinyourroom insists

Also fair warning this is gonna be like. Super long. So so so so long. Be warned.

It’s basically where after the plot of malevolent is done, Kayne transports Arthur and John to gravity falls to live out the rest of their life in peace as promised. This is of course after the plot of gravity falls is also over.

Dipper and Mabel, now 18 and able to move away, decide to visit gravity falls. Mabel with the intent of being an artist there and Dipper with the intent of having a nice visit before he goes off to college. As a surprise (and because the dynamic between Arthur and Ford is awesome) Soos decides to call Ford and Stan back as a little summer family reunion. Still deciding on whether or not to bring Wendy into this madness.

Now, I know Soos has been dubbed Mr. Mystery, but he’s not that good at social interactions. Not like Stan is. And since Melody is working the cash register, no one is available to give tours. So he’s looking for some extra help, when he hears about this terrifying guy with tons of scars who’s looking for a job (because no one needs a private investigator in gravity falls unless it’s paranormal and Arthur is NOT doing that again unless absolutely necessary (smell the foreshadowing)). So Soos goes to this guy and asks him if he wants a job at the mystery shack and hey? Where else is he gonna be hired? So Arthur starts working there.

When Dipper and Mabel get there, everything is the same as when they left it, except for three things. 1. The new house. 2. The new people. 3. Everything is hiding. On their way into town Dipper makes note that there are no gnomes. No vampire bats. No footprints that don’t belong to any animal ever known. Nothing strange.

Dipper is pretty weirded out by the lack of weirdness and when he goes to asks Soos about it (and Mabel goes to give Soos a hug) he sees someone knew out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh yea! That’s Arthur dude! He gives the tours for me so I can stick to handyman work.”

“Not to be rude but… Where did his scars come from?”

“Oh, no idea. He never talks about it. His roommate never talks about it either.”

“Roommate?”

The same thing happens with Ford when him and Stan get there. And so the saga begins.

Ford and Dipper borderline stalk Arthur, Arthur notices and says something really strange and cryptic in hindsight, Dipper and Ford are stumped for all eternity, you get the point. The fun part is when Kayne comes into play.

You see, Kayne was having a good time, destroying universes like he does, but it gets lonely. He has no one to watch anymore. No one to entertain him. So he stages a jailbreak. Of the Theraprism. Letting everyone out. Including Bill.

Bill and Kayne normally would match each other freak exceptionally well, but despite all odds, Bill is actually different. He doesn’t get the same rush from destruction that he used to. He doesn’t get the same happiness from killing. All he wants to do is go home. But home is gone. He’ll never be at home again. So he does the next best thing.

Gravity Falls isn’t his home, but maybe he could make it his home. If he tried. If he apologized. If he made sure he never did anything wrong ever again. He could be safe there. He could be ok. Plus, he knows from his old rival that’s it’s been done before. He almost laughed at the thought. Imagine only letting one person in the nightmare realm wear yellow. How silly he was back then.

That’s all I have for now, but I’m really excited to write this because I love it so much

Oh yea and the Kayne angst is how he feels like he can never change because it’s not in his biology or psyche even though he’s seen it time and time again and he hates not being able to do what other can. He thought it was a human thing. Then a John thing. But after Bill? Maybe it’s him that out of place.

[smaeemo]

On the topic of s8 buddie speculation, I think that it’s important to recognize that they are actual adults.

Like these are fully grown men, who are inherently recovering and still mentally growing, but they are not teens or even young adults at this point. With Tommy specifically, my guy Tommy is a fully grown 40 year old, comfortable stable person who is experienced and confident within his identity and relationship. And while Buck has always been a little more immature, he is growing and getting healither and healthier as the seasons progress.

So as of right now Bucktommy is ideal for the two of them, but when it comes to Eddie it is a completely different ordeal.

Eddie’s emotional and mental states are in crisis mode, with chris, SINCE shannon, PTSD, all of above. And with adding in Marisol, and specificlally his relationship with God, this is now a perfect avenue for his queer identity. HOWEVER, With the Chris timeline, there has to be closure on one before the other, most likely chris first.

Here’s what I think will happen BRIEF IDEA

Chris -> Eddie Queer -> Eddie realizes he loves Buck -> Bucktommy break up due to TOMMY realizing this -> Buddie fight -> Eddie & Tommy talk + Eddie and team talk (or carla)-> Buck realizes/eddie tells him(but not fully establishedor resolved) -> DRAMA UNRELATED -> Big emotional AGGHH (Possibly to do with Chris) -> resolve that issue -> Circle back to the topic of their love -> Buck talks to peeps -> DRAMA -> Buddie Canon

(Buck and Eddie can be interchanged in specific parts due to the general theme of the dramas or perhaps the “confession” of sorts)

However my point is…

- Tommy will not be a bad sport and is NOT a bad person or bad for Buck. Wrong person wrong time, but a lovely couple as of right now. Specifically for Buck’s development. (I really hope they strengthen and continue Tommy’s character because I love him, and because I don’t think he should be known exclusively as a catalyst for Buck’s identity, kind of like Taylor was :()

- For Buddie to go canon, the Chris issue has to be resolved first WHICH could come before or after Eddie’s queer realization. Specifically after, perhaps due to his repressed feelings and idenrity becoming a prominent figure in his self care, and willingness to change. AND let go of Shannon IN A HEALTHY WAY. (also parent stuff)

- This is not high school, they are adults. BUCK HAD HIS ARC!! Eddie needs to figure out his shit.

- They are flawed and complex characters, so while yes, this is 9-1-1 so it will be theatrical, it will not be immature.

- It will be MESSY and DRAMATIC and with REALISTIC (ish) themes

-> Think of Bathena, Henren, Madney

- Buddie is a longstanding want from the Fandom, ergo, if executed wrong, there will be an actual outrage (look at how they reacted to Tommy) so this was/will be a very complicated and complex writing!

- OR casually dropped in (I highly doubt this option)

- Most of all, Chris is the main priority within Eddie’s life, so the Chris Arc and EDDIES arc need to take place PRIOR to canonical Buddie.

- Buck has suspiiously not gone through anything this seaosn.. so keep an eye out for that…

- TOMMY IS NOT BAD. I REPEAT TOMMY IS NOT BAD.

-> Not the right longterm relationshup for either of them, but a HEALTHY one

- Buddie may not go canon this season, but it’s still possible THEY HAVE ALL THE BUILDING BLOCKS

- But on a more media related note, please take into account:

-> Actors comfort

-> ABC’s policies

-> And of course, plotline: due to the NATIONAL/GLOBAL want and demand for Buddie, this arc would over shadow most other arcs, so other character arcs need to take place, and really develop before canon buddie

-> Also, please be respectful of other people, actors, and of course writers. As viewers we don’t see so much, and of course all media can be intperetted in many various ways, and even if you don’t agree, please respect and have compassion for your fellow 9-1-1 enjoyers (specifically regarding all of the listed items).

Ok, Stay safe, stay respectful, stay on the watch for potential buddie themes, be patient and most of all, have compassion for all parties involved, fictional and production wise.

[katboykirby]

Okay, so! It's late and I should've been asleep hours ago so I probably won't be writing a fully in-depth/detailed response, but I can offer a little bit of perspective from the writing side of things (as someone with experience in the industry, who's worked on several mobage games)

So, a big part of the plot/story aspect is due to OM being a live service mobage. By the inherent nature of the genre, the story must always be able to continue going (ie: the story can never "end" because then the game itself would end)

This means that the writers will always be limited in how much they are allowed to do, because the story must still be able to continue after the current Lesson/Season/whatever. No matter how big or crazy you want to make the plot in S3, you still have to reel it back in by the end so that S4 can still happen. Status Quo is hugely important for this style of game. Making significant, permanent changes means having to commit to those changes and not revert back, which is risky from a development perspective (if players don't like the change, they may drop the game) but also means that all of your writers are now railroaded into writing within the bounds that this new permanent change has established. It's not that this is impossible, but it's common for management and executives to discourage it.

This is also the reason why it feels like character development never truly "sticks" even though we see the boys learning the same lessons over and over. No matter how many times Levi has a big moment where he learns to be more assertive and believe in himself, he'll be back to his usual characterisation next season. Ditto for Satan's relationship with Lucifer. Lucifer himself will re-learn not to keep secrets from his brothers or take the burden of responsibility alone, over and over again.

If a character is allowed to have an actual conclusion to their personal arc, then that means that their growth is now over. It's satisfying for players because we get to see them struggle, learn, grow, and have an actual conclusion. But the problem is...then what? The story itself still has to continue. And if a character's arc is "over" then that leaves them with much less for the writers to do as the story continues.

Stories need conflict, and the same is true of characters. They need to struggle, they need to learn and grow, otherwise they would be boring. If Satan never struggled with his anger issues or his relationship with Lucifer again after S2, then he would have very little to do in every following Season of the story. All of his personal growth is concluded, so what would there be to focus on? Sure, new struggles and new character arcs could be introduced, but then you start introducing the same narrative hurdles as mentioned above. You especially don't want to fiddle with the characters TOO much, because you'll risk losing that character's stans if their favourite blorbo is irrecoverably changed in a way they don't like.

With this genre of game, it's much preferred to keep the characters as consistent as possible, because you'll be writing these same characters continuously for many many years. OM itself is about to turn 5 years old, and "if it's not broken, don't fix it" is a big aspect that the writers will have drilled into them.

Speaking of the writers themselves, this is the last point I'll touch on for now. While we don't know absolutely everything about Solmare's inner workings as a company (for good reason) we DO know a few things. Mainly:

OM's writers are often split up into many different smaller teams, and will be working on multiple assignments (Main Story, Pop Quiz event stories, Devilgrams, etc) at the same time

It's not entirely uncommon for Solmare to bring in guest writers from outside of the company

Not all of the writers from 2018-2019 are still working at Solmare, and the staff will change regularly as older employees leave and new staff is hired (just like any other company)

Which all means that at any given time, completely different people could be writing the plot between one Lesson and the next. This is generally good for the writers themselves (since delegating the workload in this way is much better than having individual writers taking on far too much on their own) but it also means we get things like inconsistency with the characters, or continuity errors. Communication and management are much harder when you have a large team working on many different assignments at once. This is even more likely to be the case when a guest writer is brought in from outside, because they will be less familiar with the story and characters. (This is how we ended up with Lucifer's controversial "Lady" lyric in "Arcadia" - the songwriter was not a Solmare employee and not a member of the OM writing team)

This is something that happens with all written media, but the more writers you have working on a project means there will just be more chances for things like this to slip through the cracks.

Anyway, sorry to ramble like crazy on your post (and I'm tired so I'm not even sure if everything I said made sense) but hopefully this was at least interesting for some people to read!

i also think that either obm needs better writers OR if it’s not an issue with the writers themselves, that they should start thinking about where they want the game to go. the story is so… disjointed… and messy. with every season, it just feels like the story deteriorates in quality bc nothing is ever at stake + nothing changes. character development and plot points are easily forgotten in favor of having scenes with characters instead (which like i know that’s the main point of the game but … it all feels… cheap?? idk). nothing ever happens in the main storyline and thats just ?? wack

[izupie]

Aww I posted this 5 years ago!! (2019 was 5 years ago!!!?) This was after I posted the first official ending to Beep Beep Beep, before I gave it an epilogue a couple of years later.

I can't believe I called it a "short" story asdhjhgshfj

BBB is officially 5 years old that's so bizarre to realise. It was the first time I'd ever finished a longer project. It took me a year to write and I had never worked on one story for that long. I have so many good memories from that year !

My baby is 5 and I'm emotional about it

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[writhe]

[wowbright]

In case anybody wants a concrete example of what this can mean, over the past 24 or so hours, for me this has meant:

Spending a few hours each day on work that is neither too challenging nor too boring (made easier by the fact I am self-employed)

Doing a little studying for exams I have coming up

Watching four episodes of The Terror. (Brigdh, I am sorry to report that I was really enjoying it until I realized in episode 5 that it had a supernatural element and now I am unsure. Which is interesting, because the thing I really wanted to watch yesterday but couldn't locate on any of my services, Hereditary, does have one. Maybe I just don't like supernatural *surprises*?)

Going for a walk and wishing I could go swim in the water with the harbor seal (too cold, no wetsuit or spotter--harbor seals make terrible lifeguards).

Eating food. Tried to have a balance of "real food" with my comfort foods of toast and cheese sandwiches.

Reading and writing when I had a hard time falling asleep. The writing included complaining about the election.

Reminiscing about Spanish and Argentinian fascism with my mom

When I got up way too early, lying in bed and listening to E. Nesbit's The Magical World with my eyes closed, then reading Tumblr posts until it was closer to my normal wake up time.

Sending dumb cat posts to a friend who is not on Tumblr

Complaining about one of my clients to @coffeegleek

Playing with my cat.

This is not representative of what you should do. Most people do not have harbor seals in walking distance or mothers who lived in two different countries climbing their way out of dictatorships. Some people hate cheese sandwiches and horror movies. And some people would say that going on social media or staying up late to write a long list of horrible things that the president elect of the United States has done is bad for your mental health.

To me, the important thing is the "keep going" part. I might feel miserable; I might feel sad; I might think, "oh yay a harbor seal!" or "what a lovely day outside"; I might not have much of an appetite; I might do something productive; I might do something that is "a waste of time"; I might fall asleep or I might not.

It doesn't matter, as long as I keep going.

It's okay to not feel okay and to not feel hopeful. That is natural. It is not something you need to feel bad about or shake yourself out of.

It's been less than two days. It's okay to feel shitty and hopeless. It's also okay to feel hopeful, if that comes naturally to you.

I used to have a magnet on my fridge with a quote attributed to Winston Churchill. It said, "If you're going through hell, keep going."

That's all you need to do. You don't have to feel a certain way about it. Just keep going.

[adore-gregor]

:)

[septembersghost]

me watching any piece of media ever made: how can i make the thesis here about the wondrous, fulfilling, frightening, destroying, restorative, glimmering thrall of, and tragic inevitability of grief within, any and every form of love?

elvis (2022): *very first thing we hear* oh, let our love survive... *later*: love song i've known since childhood used in a dark, ominous way and a desperately tender one: some things are meant to be. take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can't help falling in love... *later still*: it was love. *last*: i need your love...

ah. okay. so you just made my job too easy. i don't even have to search for it. thank you. guess i'll go insane.