#i just don't like the really aggressive ones

[mischievousmoony]

𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚣𝚎𝚛𝚘

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⟢ a guy makes unwanted advances on you at a frat party, and the president comes to your aid ⊹ 3.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: alcohol, unwanted advances + touching and sexist comments from another character, james gets aggressive confronting said character, american!james hehehe (not that it's explicitly stated)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

By your third visit to the crowded, beer-scented kitchen, your features have set into a deep scowl. You groan, slumping against the wall—only to immediately push yourself off, unwilling to let the exposed skin of your back come into contact with any part of the frat house you're in. Was the wall sticky, or have you started sweating from the heat of all the drunk bodies around you? Either option makes you cringe.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. Frat parties weren’t exactly your ideal night out, but your best friend had dragged you to this one with the promise of a fun time. But your night has quickly turned into a wild goose chase after she disappeared with some guy.

"Are you okay?" a voice calls from your left, barely audible over the music that's starting to make your head pound. You realize that you had started pinching the bridge of your nose. When you lower your hand and turn your head, you find a pair of kind eyes staring down at you.

He introduces himself as Todd after you explain that you've been looking for your friend for half an hour to no avail. With a sympathetic smile, he offers to help, which you gratefully accept. Anything to find your friend and put this dreadful night to an end.

"Are you, like, one of the brothers?" you ask, noticing the letters on Todd's cap as you follow him through the house, but it's a little too dark to make them out. Not to mention, you don't really remember which fraternity your friend even brought you to tonight.

"Nah," Todd shouts over his shoulder. "Not here." He doesn't provide any more information than that as he changes the subject, suggesting the two of you search the backyard.

"I thought the yard was off limits,” you shout as you speed walk to catch up with him. He’s walking so fast that you barely have time to consider why he would think your friend would be outside.

Stepping into the cold, he explains, "Apparently their neighbors complained about the noise last weekend, so they're trying to keep the party inside. But a couple of quiet people shouldn't be an issue. It's nice to be away from all the noise, eh?"

You shudder when the night air hits you, hugging your arms around yourself tightly and attempting to smooth away the goosebumps already prickling on your skin.

"Maybe if it wasn't freezing."

You look around at the back yard, finding it completely empty except for a thin layer of fallen leaves and scattered beer bottles hidden in the uncut grass. Todd is leading you straight across the lawn, farther away from the house and any source of light. You’re starting to get a weird feeling about this—and Todd—so you slow to a stop while he continues to head deeper into the darkness.

"Hey, I don't think my friend is gonna be out here. I'm gonna keep looking inside–"

"What's the rush?" Todd's demeanor changes when he notices you’re falling behind. He quickly closes the distance between the two of you again in two strides.

You release a dry laugh, realizing that you've been too trusting, and your tone turns serious. "I should really find my friend."

"You said she was with a guy, right? C'mon just let her have her fun." Todd drops his voice an octave, trying to sound seductive, but it comes across embarrassingly forced. "Maybe we can have some fun too."

When he reaches to touch the side of your face, your mood starts to change from a little let down and slightly annoyed to seriously pissed off.

"Don't," you say coldly, jerking your head away from his touch.

"Aw, c'mon," he continues to try to coax you, still somehow thinking he has a chance at convincing you. When his fingers graze your sides, you shout at him to keep his hands off, but instead, he slides them to your waist, holding you firmly.

"Let go!" you demand, planting you hands firmly on his shoulders and pushing. He chuckles at your feeble attempts, making you angrier, so you switch tactics. You wrap your hands around his wrists and pry his hands off, applying a pressure to the inside of his wrists that makes him release you with a hiss.

There's an angry voice in the distance shouting "Hey!" presumably at the two of you. You hear the steady sound of footsteps growing louder—one of the brothers probably coming to yell at you for sneaking into their backyard. You're a little too busy to care as you stomp away from Todd.

Todd doesn’t seem to notice the newcomer either. Too absorbed in the sting of your rejection, he starts getting angry too.

"Don't be such a prude," he snaps. He catches your wrist and pulls you back to him with a swift tug, spinning you around to face him. You draw your free arm back, using the extra momentum from the spin to your advantage as you punch him squarely in the jaw.

The punch throws him off balance, sending him stumbling back. His foot catches on an empty beer bottle, twisting his ankle as he loses his footing and crashes onto the grass with a heavy thud.

You stand above him, a little stunned at your actions. Todd is whining pathetically about the pain from the punch to his face, and the pain from the fall to his ass.

Someone jogs up beside you, and you can feel their gaze darting back and forth between you and Todd.

"Nice punch," he says, a little out of breath.

"Thanks," you reply flatly, only now starting to process that you—with the help of a beer bottle—sent this man tumbling to the ground.

"Alright," the mystery man says like he's about to get to work. He steps into your line of sight, looming over Todd for a moment.

He has a mop of dark curls spilling out from under a red baseball cap sitting backwards on his head. The cap matches his letterman-style jacket, which clings to his broad frame, drawing attention to his muscular body. Under different circumstances, this is a view you’d appreciate.

He bends down and grabs Todd by the collar of his shirt, roughly pulling him to his feet. Even with both of them standing, he still towers over him.

"Hey, man. What's up?" he asks Todd, his casual words contrasting with his abrasive tone.

"That slut just punched me!" Todd shrieks.

You roll your eyes. How pathetic.

He tightens his grip on Todd's shirt collar, using it to shake him roughly. "Watch your fucking mouth or I'll be the next," he threatens, and Todd goes quiet.

Your eyes widen at his sudden sharpness. Almost involuntary, you shift your position, angling yourself to get a clear look at the boy’s face. Black rimmed glasses sit lazily on the bridge of his nose, under his furrowed brow as he glares daggers at Todd. His eyes are big and brown, almost seeming out of place against the hard scowl carved into his features.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he continues. "First, you’re blacklisted. You’re never stepping foot in my house again. And what's this?"

He plucks Todd's hat off his head, inspecting the letters with a scoff before tossing it to the ground. "Of course. I'm sure nationals will be happy to hear about how you've conducted yourself tonight."

Todd's eye twitches at the threat. "Let's not pretend I was doing anything she didn’t want. Look at the way she’s dressed—flaunting herself, just begging for attention."

"What did you just say?" he seethes.

"James, c'mon," Todd says, revealing the name of the taller boy. He speaks with a nonchalance that makes James' nostrils flare, angered by his dismissiveness of the situation.

You begin to wonder how they know each other when James sets him straight.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to? My friends call me James, you don't get to call me shit. The fuck do you think this is, man? I catch you in my backyard putting your hands on a girl who clearly doesn't want anything to do with you and you think you can talk to me like we're friends? I don't even know who the hell you are."

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head by now. It feels like you’ve been dropped into a scene from a movie—an exposé on the dark side of greek life, or maybe the mafia. Not knowing much about either, it’s hard to say, but the backward hats and pounding music from the house quickly remind you of where you are.

James lowers his voice, his tone dipping into something almost menacing. "But I’ll find out from your brothers, and when I do, you’re finished here. Done. Now come on."

Todd flinches as one of James' hands clasps over the back of his neck with a sharp smack. There were some other guys you hadn't noticed before back near the house, to whom James hands Todd over.

Once James notices that you're still standing in the middle of the yard, he jogs back over. On his way, he takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair to loosen his curls.

"Hey," he says in a soft voice, vastly different from the one he used on Todd. "Are you okay?"

The change in his demeanor catches you off guard. You exhale while you collect your thoughts, a steamy white cloud filling the space as your warm breath meets cool air.

"That was intense," you say. You don’t mean to dodge his question, but he did just switch from mafia boss levels of threatening to sunshine and rainbows.

James breathes out a laugh. "Sorry about that. Gotta be a hardass with some of these dicks, especially ones like that. Part of the job."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, wondering what job he's talking about.

James reads your expression, and stands up a little straighter as he introduces himself. "President James, at your service." With an exaggerated wink, he tugs at the edge of his jacket, pulling it taut to show off the letters sewn over his chest.

You nod in understanding. "Well, thank you for stepping in, Mr. President," you say, a slight tease coloring your tone.

A smile like sunshine overtakes his lips. "No need to thank me, really. Anyway, you handled it pretty well before I got here. That was some punch—is your hand alright?"

You had forgotten about that. Splaying your fingers out in front of you, you inspect your knuckles. "Mhm. Fine. I don't think I can feel my limbs anyway." You wrap your arms back around yourself, the cold become almost unbearable in your tank top.

"Shit, yeah, it's cold out here, isn't it?" James holds his hat between his teeth, freeing his hands as he strips off his jacket. Your eyes linger on his toned arms for a moment too long, and suddenly his hat has made its way back onto his head and he's holding his jacket out for you.

"May I?" he asks.

As much as you want to say no, you truly are freezing, so you let yourself be draped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. The fabric has an unexpected weight to it, almost offering a comfort similar to an embrace.

James rubs his hands up and down over newly blanketed arms to encourage some warmth into them. James studies your face with softened eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note.

"Hey, listen... I'm really sorry that happened to you. Everything he said, and did–"

"It's alright," you interrupt.

"It's not. That shouldn't be happening. Not at my house—not anywhere. I'm really sorry you had to deal with that creep. And if you wanted to take it to the school, I'd be more than willing to–"

"No, no. That's more trouble than he's worth."

James nods, respecting your decision. "For what it's worth, I'm gonna make sure he won't be allowed in any of the parties around here anymore. I doubt I can get him completely blackballed, but I'll do what I can."

You offer James a small smile in response. You're glad to hear that, really, but now that Todd's gone and that's all over, your main concern is finding your friend and getting the hell out of here.

"Why don't you let me give you a ride home?" he offers, almost like he can read your mind. His kind, brown eyes almost make you want to say yes. But after the night you've had, you owe it to yourself to be a little less trusting.

"I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek while you decide if you should disclose your current dilemma. James does seem eager to help. Deciding to tell him, you say, "I was looking for my friend."

James is quick to offer his assistance. "Who's your friend? Maybe I can help."

You tell him your friends name and recount what she was doing when you saw her last. "She ran off with this guy. Long black hair, leather jacket, I think I heard his name but it was something... unique."

James sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Sounds like Sirius."

"Sirius, yes! That was his name." You're momentarily excited, thinking that James could actually help, but the look on his face squashes the feeling promptly.

"Yeah, uh," James scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, "Sirius left with a girl like an hour ago. About yay high," he holds his hand out to your friend's height. "Tan. Brown hair."

You sigh. Some best friend you have. Here you are, searching for her endlessly, and she's ditched you at the party she brought you to.

"She was your ride, I’m guessing?" The corner of James' lip quirks up in a sorry half-smile as you nod. "It really is no trouble for me to drive you home."

You tap your foot on the ground anxiously. You're really wanting to just accept his offer. He seems nice enough, but there's still a little voice in the back of your mind telling you to be careful.

"I just... I don't really know you."

"Understandable," James starts. "But... you kinda do. I'm pretty sure we have chem together."

"I don't think so." You think you’d remember a muscly, likely rambunctious, frat boy in your boring chem class.

"Okay, I was playing it cool,” James’ teeth graze his lower lip in a bashful manner. “I know we have Chem together—with Professor Brown? Tuesdays and Thursdays. You sit in the front row. Y/N, right?" James looks a little sheepish as he recalls your name.

You nod slowly, really looking at James for the first time, trying to place him. Then it hits you—you do remember him. He sits a few seats down from you in chem, always rigorously taking notes and asking questions you wouldn’t have thought of (but are glad to have the answers to). Seeing him like this, though, is such a contrast to the smart guy from class that you didn’t even recognize him at first.

You feel a heat creep up the back of your neck. You’ve only ever spared him a few glances, but you’ve always thought the smart guy from chem was pretty cute.

"Oh. Oh, right. I–I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. You're James Potter." You try the name on your lips, realizing the name didn't click because you had only ever heard your professor call him by his last name.

"That's me," he grins. "And don't worry about it."

You give him a nod, a bit awkwardly. He seems like a good guy, but you’re still not sure if you want to get in his car. "Well, James, I should probably just call an Uber or something anyway. I don't know if you've been drinking or anything so..."

"Oh!" James holds up a finger, stuffing his other hand into his pocket and pulling out a black rectangle. You mistake it for one of those big, clunky box vapes and almost want to roll your eyes. But then, James surprises you by blowing into it instead of breathing in.

The device beeps, and he shows you the little digital screen, previously hidden behind his hand, that reads "0.00" over a glowing green background.

"Haven't had a drop," he confirms. "I haven't smoked or anything else, either. Not my thing."

"Why do you own a breathalyzer?" you ask, a little dumbfounded.

"So I can breathalyze people," he shrugs, fiddling with the device—tossing it a few inches up in the air and catching it.

You raise your eyebrows at him, not satisfied with his non-answer.

“Sorry,” James chuckles at himself. "Uh, I have a lot of people leaving my parties trying to tell me they're sober enough to drive. I got loads of these ‘cause they can't argue with the numbers... as much as they might try to."

"Where did you even get that?" you ask. You can't imagine there's a very big market for personal breathalyzers.

"You can get almost anything with Prime delivery!" he says it like he's proud as he tucks it back into his pocket. "Hey, you want one? I've got a drawer full back in the house." He points with his thumb over his shoulder.

You laugh, shaking your head at his offer. James laughs along with you, his lips curling into a boyish grin.

Well, if you’re going to put your trust in anyone else tonight it, it might as well be the smart boy from chem who takes safety seriously enough to own multiple breathalyzers.

You start walking towards the house. When you don’t hear a set of footsteps following behind, you call over your shoulder, "Come on."

James catches up quickly, happy to be invited to join you. "Where are we going?"

"To your car so you can give me a ride home."

From the corner of your eye, you watch his face break out into a wide grin. And from there on out, there's an extra pep in his step as he leads you to his car.

When you're safe and sound, back in the comfort of your own room, you flop onto your bed with a dreamy look on your face. You hug the jacket closer to your body, thankful for the excuse to talk to him in chem on Tuesday. Little did you know, he let you keep the jacket so that you'd have one.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[shadowblade8192]

tags courtesy of @thewizardslime

specifically about that last tag, and im gonna derail slightly from film and tv to videogames (though i will defend its relevancy to the overall conversation).

antipiracy measures don't increase sales. they only really affect sales for the first couple days to a week to a month depending on how long it takes to crack a games drm. theres that one gabe newell quote everyones heard a million times: basically piracy is a service problem. if you are providing as good as or better service than the pirates, you will get less pirates

aggressive drm is not good service

i like to use gog to get my games where i can. all the games there are drm free, in fact since i dont need a launcher, its basically the same quality of service as downloading a torrent, except i am supporting the developers

circling back to film and tv, physical media is often brought up as a preservation method. this is not always the case. even ignoring the fact that many pieces of media are digital only (so much stuff is only on streaming services), just having a disc is not enough.

for one, the disc will eventually rot, or it might get scratched and become unplayable. for two, some companies put fucking drm on the discs. some blu rays (and blu rays are often superior to dvds due to actually supporting HD content) have online activation required with blu ray players

so it is not enough to just *have* a physical disc, you need to back it up. personally i use a usb optical drive in my pc and a piece of software called makemkv. if storage space is a concern, and you cannot afford an external hard drive, you can compress the resulting data without too much loss (and i mean streaming services will broadcast the compressed versions regardless, for example i have a blu ray of some new dr who episodes, which run 15-25GiB per episode when directly ripped, but the same episodes are 1.5-2GiB when i used to rip them from bbc iplayer

People with most mainstream tastes imaginable should not open their mouth on how anti piracy they are btw. Yea no shit you can depend on legal sources to watch Marvel and listen to tswift and Maroon 5. Thank you so much for signing the petition to close that platform that was the only one i could download this 2008 romanian dungeon synth ep from

[nerdygirlramblings]

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

[cleoselene]

don't doomscroll, DO SOMETHING. Don't complain, TAKE ACTION. here are things you can do:

call your Congresspeople. If you are living in a Democratic district, this is so easy! Tell them how YOU want them to fight! Don't just sit back and complain that "Dems in congress aren't doing what I want." CALL THEM AND TELL THEM WHAT YOU WANT. EMAIL THEM. And be nice about it, lead with the illusion that you trust them to do the right thing. "I know you don't really want this to happen, you're a good person!" methodology.

If your reps are like mine and horrible horrible monsters like Byron Donalds, then you have to make your phone calls differently. You gotta strategize these. There are two ways to do this: 1) be incredibly angry and aggressive, but filibuster about it. Don't give them any ability to get off the phone. Don't curse or insult, just properly outraged. The key here is to WASTE THEIR TIME. I spend about 45 minutes on the phone with one of Rick Scott's people once. The other way, i think is more effective, but this is better than nothing. The other way, 2) is to frame the specific issue you're calling about from the most conservative angle possible. If you're calling to support Ukraine, cry about how your daddy fought in 'Nam to stomp out communism, now you want to let a KGB guy like Putin bring back the Soviet Union? Act super fucking scared of communism. Say the words "KGB" and Putin together over and over. Talk about how America doesn't roll over for Russia, not now, not ever. This is just an example of a particular issue, but it can apply to any. My mom calls it the "sandwich technique." Lead with a compliment, then say what you really mean, and end with a compliment. People get tricked into changing their minds.

I realize this is tumblr so if you are really really that phone-phobic, apply this to email. But really, this is worth making the call for. The call cannot be fully ignored. An email can.

Join the class action lawsuit against the government for Breach of Privacy if you have Social Security or Medicare, and tell people you know who do to join it.

get involved at the local level. Agitate at city council. hell, RUN for city council. I promise you that no matter how unqualified you think you are, less qualified people have run and won. There was a town that had a golden retriever as its mayor for a while. You have to start thinking locally. You have to start doing things ALL THE TIME, not just every 2-4 years. This isn't just voting, but making your voice heard. That tumblr post about ten people showing up at a council meeting being able to change thing significantly? True. "But I live in a red area!" yeah, so do I, and that makes it even more important, since they're doing shit like banning books in schools here.

Run for office!! I just said that, but seriously, run for office!! AOC was a bartender before she got where she is now!! If I were not completely disabled, I'd do it. If you don't feel like it's for you, think of the people in your life who are capable who might be persuaded!

Focus on the real enemy. It's Republicans. It's not Democrats. Like I said, if you're unhappy with the way your Democratic rep is doing things, TELL THEM. Sitting outside the party and criticizing accomplishes nothing, it only weakens our only opposition party in this country. If you want to talk about third parties, MAKE ONE THAT'S VIABLE. But realize that will probably be decades of work. Stop complaining and start doing, start reaching out to the people who at the moment have some ability to do things and influence THEM. You can say a lot of things on the internet and expect to change the world, but you won't. (Yes, I realize the ridiculousness of me posting this on the internet, but I will be doing things, too, not just shouting into this void)

[shurisneakers]

hey I wanna say I absolutely love your writing ,English is not my first language but your writing cracks me up every time I absolutely adore your work! I wanted to throw in an idea for misery loves company because I really like the grumpy×grumpy ,what about them being loners/grumpy in a wedding,maybe it's Steve's or someone else on the team and they share a quiet dance on the balcony or something so yeah that's my idea ,again love your works ♥️♥️♥️♥️

a/n: hello! thank you for your kindness and for sending this in, I hope you like it <3

this is part of misery loves company but is just a stand alone fic. you don’t need to read anything before this

warnings: swearing, light angst

You slip out before the first toast.

The balcony is quiet, the air sharp against your skin. Below, the city hums, distant and indifferent. The music is still loud behind you, but out here, it’s muffled, softened by the wind.

You don’t belong inside.

The thought comes unbidden, bitter in your mouth.

So the balcony is cold, the air sharp against your skin. The city sprawls below, distant and untouchable. The music inside is muffled now, voices blending together, champagne bubbling in glasses. It’s still too loud.

You lean against the railing, fingers gripping the cold marble. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t care.

You exhale, press your palms against the railing, giving yourself five seconds before you call an Uber to get home.

Behind you, the door creaks open.

"You gonna jump?"

You hear the shuffle of his shoes against the floor as he leans beside you.

You close your eyes. "Go back inside. Make someone else's night worse."

"Yours already looks terrible, I've got a headstart," Bucky says, stepping up beside you.

You don’t turn, but you can feel him watching you, his presence taking up too much space in a very spacious balcony.

"You left early," he grunts out.

"So did you," you mutter.

"Yeah," he says. "People started looking at me like they wanted to ask me to dance."

You scoff. "You just think everyone’s in love with you."

"You're not proving me wrong," he points out.

"You're the most insufferable man I know."

"Honoured."

You finally glance at him. His tie is loose and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

"Why are you out here?"

Your grip tightens on the railing. "Why are you?"

You know he sees it.

"You gonna actually answer," he says coolly, "or are we going to keep doing this?"

You exhale sharply, looking ahead. "DJ’s shit."

"It’s a live band."

"Then they should’ve hired a DJ."

His mouth twitches, but his eyes don't move off you.

"Try again."

"No," you say flatly.

He tilts his head at you, expression unreadable.

It makes you feel like your skin is on fire. Weddings are hard. Weddings with him around are even harder, for reasons you can't put words to.

A beat passed and he finally pushes himself away from the railing.

You're about to make some biting comment, when instead--

"Dance with me."

You blink. "Are you concussed?"

"Not recently."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "If this is some kind of sympathy thing-"

"Jesus," he mutters. "Yeah, I wanna pity dance with you, that's exactly what's happening here."

"Then what?"

He shrugs, "You think you're the only one who's angry?"

Your jaw tightens, teeth harsh against each other.

"We don’t have to talk," he mutters, like he's tired. Like things are hard for him too. "Just dance with me."

You stare at him, skeptical. He stares back, unbothered.

Instead, you grab his hand, passive-aggressive, like the universe owes you something for putting him in your life.

"Step on my feet, I break your kneecaps."

"For the record, I was a good fuckin' dancer."

"There is not one person left alive that can corroborate that," you scoff.

It's a joke, but you're acutely aware that maybe it's exactly why this is hard for him.

He pulls you in, a little stiff, like neither of you actually know how to do this anymore.

The music filters in from inside, something soft, but the two of you aren’t moving right to it.

He sways, slow and easy, like it makes all the sense in the world.

It pisses you off that somewhere, it starts feeling that was for you too.

"You're terrible at this," you mutter.

"So are you," he grumbles.

You scoff. "You said you were good at dancing."

"Yeah, well," he exhales, "people say a lot of shit."

You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.

Neither does he.

The wind picks up. His palm presses a little firmer against your back. You don’t know what to do with that.

"You think you’re mad now," he mutters, "just wait ‘til I do this."

You frown, "What are you plann-"

You barely have time to react before his lips brush against your forehead.

It’s quick, warm, and a little unpracticed, like he thought about it too hard but did it anyway.

Your fingers tighten against his shirt. Not because you want to hold on. But because you don’t know what else to do with your hands when something shifts in your chest.

"Jes—"

"Shut up," he says, and it's the closest you've heard him come to pleading. "Five more minutes."

The words sit between you, heavy and unspoken.

You don’t know if he’s talking about the dance or something bigger.

Five more minutes.

Like you’re not running out of time. Like something in the world could belong to you, even if just for a little while.

You close your eyes. Breathe him in.

And five minutes stretch on longer than they usually do.

[omlette-prince-of-denmark]

As a theatre scholar and practitioner, I feel like this doesn't always apply, but that may just be in my field, where your performers generally come face to face with their audience and to a degree depend on a connection between them. I personally try to always take them into account. Don't get me wrong - I LOATHE it when another director makes choices that betray that he's just scared of the audience and thus keeps it lukewarm.

But a big chunk of performing tends to be creating some sort of connection or energy between the performers and the audience. Thinking about target audience can become very crucial actually. I recall working on a project that was a 10-minute show meant to be performed at a train station, at random times during the day to just sorta brighten the travellers' and commuters' days. So far so good. One of the pieces chosen for this was an extremely multi-layered poem about drinking. The director, scared as he was that if made too complicated no one would like it, played it purely for entertainment value. It ended up more like a celebration of escaping reality via alcohol. Nothing could persuade him to overthink this.

Now I'm sure you can imagine who our regular audience ended up being. Those who saw multiple performances per day for a three week period. That's right. The homeless that had claimed the station as their sort of base.

And now imagine how these performers felt: with their relatively cushy lives, playing a slapstick kinda scene and blurting out lines like "I drink til I can't no more all day long". And imagine me, who had to politely intervene a thousand times so the regulars didn't touch or otherwise startle the performers. They were the ones we interacted with the most in this piece. And always when we were on the cusp of earning their trust or respect, this fucking scene came on!!! They felt so mocked. So humiliated. It wasn't the intention AT ALL. The poem had been part of a thingy that we were supposed to pick our scenes from but... since there was no consideration about the target audience at a train station, the whole thing was an embarrassing disaster that in my eyes did more damage to the atmosphere there than good.

So I guess I'm trying to say, be weird, don't be scared that people might not like it and really question if you find yourself aggressively tailoring and marketing a thing to a specific demographic. But if you are tied to a time and a place and have to interact with real humans, context IS important and considering it can be the difference between a crazy fight between a bunch of angry homeless people and some confused scared actors who didn't know what they had done wrong.

fuck an "intended audience" how about we normalize engaging with new and unfamiliar art pieces on their own terms

[animentality]

I know x reader fans have always existed, and I don't generally mind them.

however I feel like the way they've overtaken fandom analysis/ shipping culture is an indication of the general decline of fandom communities.

they are normies, guys. I'm sorry.

it's not a slur, it's just a fact.

normies infiltrated fandom spaces because of covid.

they come in and just want to thirst after a particular character... and that's like. fine. of course it's fine it's always happened.

but they don't seem to actually care about the character being in character. nor does it really require any analysis of that character's motivations or story, or their relationship with others.

I know not everything HAS to relate to canon. like duh, we are here to make our own canon.

but come the fuck on. I go into a tag and it has a character tagged being some dommy daddy when that character is nothing like that in canon... and there's this line between making a character act a certain way bc that's your fetish, and completely ignoring who that character is entirely to the point where you could just replace their name with anyone else in any other show, and it wouldn't make a difference?

like that's... normie shit. it's people who do not think deeply or passionately about that media, it's just them having this surface level grasp of the physical attractiveness of the character.

and again. I'm not saying these people are stupid or whatever, just that the overabundance of this watered down ass content is an indicator of how much fandom has changed.

fans are not the socially awkward introverted queer voyeurs anymore, who enjoy fantasies and daydreaming about being someone else because of this disconnect with the self, or this fear of others that leads you to seek human connection in fiction.

they're the people who do just fine with other people ... and I'm not gatekeeping fandom from people who aren't socially awkward or anything.

but they come here, and they do shit like say you can't like this ship bc it's morally wrong .. you're not allowed to thirst after an 18 year old that makes you a pedophile... I'm 15 and I'm allowed to lust for Gojo but you a 25 year old woman, aren't allowed to write itafushi fanfiction.

go back to taxes and your job!!!

like that drives me fucking insane. these people want to insist they're not normies but they then go around insisting that being over 20 means you need to Work and Be a Normal Adult... bitch.

adults make fandoms. not you fucking children. you don't know how to build communities, you barely know how to make friends.

attacking people who like the same thing you do? is that what you think community building is?

oh this poor generation. anyway.

they come here and are disgusted by weird fetishes and obsessions. and by people sharing sexual headcanons or ideas about sexuality that make them uncomfortable because they've never ever been counter culture, they've never felt the need to go against the status quo.

they're cis straight girls/women mostly, whose mothers basically fuel the ya spicy romance booktok industry.

they're just younger and think it's trendier to be "in a fandom" than a fucking book club.

they're modern day bodice ripper fans... which again

would be so fucking fine, if they weren't doing the youth version of karening the fuck out.

and flooding the fandom with both hyper criticism of how you conduct your business AND an aggressive market for just imagining yourself with a character.

like fandom was originally just hyper passionate freaks.

they discussed movies and TV shows like life and death. they were fucking nuts but in the way where they needed to seek one another out, to share in this joyous sensation of being a freak obsessed with something beyond the point of reason.

now?

now it's like ... oh.

Sally from Bio thinks your love of Gaara is super creepy when you're 19. like what, are you a pedophile? why are you imagining him getting married to Naruto? are you a fucking pedophile who gets off to teens making out? they need to check your hard drive!!

like ok Sally.

ok.

I just think x reader is such a strong indicator of what kind of fan you are.

and if a fandom is mostly x reader... then it can't be that popular. it can't be a proper community.

how can it be?

it's as watered down and generic and bland as a marvel movie. it's stripped down of anything unique. it is pruned of controversy and humanity.

you are literally stripping yourself down into a non character.

you're not truly projecting yourself into a character, because the you that you read about is nothing. a placeholder. you are a passive observing robot who exists only in the form of a faceless and personality less entity.

and I don't get it.

what's the point then?

isn't fiction about realizing something about yourself or others

if your only manner of engaging is stripping yourself of personality... is it engagement at all?

or is it just more mindless consumption?

just watch law and order, man.

watch the good doctor or some shit on lifetime.

there's shows with passionate fanbases who theory craft and endlessly obsess with relationships and world building, and then there's shows with x reader only content and you know exactly why now.

[animation-by-jam]

[Vent]. My thoughts. I'm not indigenous, so I can not relay the experience as if I could, and their voices matter more than mine. My heart goes out to the people of the letter. I'm writing as a fan who wants to just let out my feelings.

I don't know if it's just me. But I don't know if I can watch another rtvs stream with the whole crew until the rest of them issued their apologies over what happened or actually do something about the hurt they caused. It's obvious by the fan reaction that they're not just friends on the internet anymore and can't just shield themselves to be awful with criticism. Especially over fucking racial discrimination critique.

Especially Mike. Like everyone's initial responses and apologies at the time were bad, but man, that one was just REALLY BAD. Like if it wasn't limited to a discord server, the average rtvs viewer would have just been appalled by the comment and done worse reputation wise level bad. Not even the most dedicated sweep under the rug fans could argue that wasn't good. (Though I did scroll to read the entire situation, and few people tried). But, nope. It was bad. I still don't understand how he could go immediately to a 100 with that. I could give him the benefit of the doubt and say he probably had a shitty day (gamer moment level of exuse. I can't defend that), or idk he was just too aggressive with wanting to defend his friends. But, at the end of the day, that's an excuse, and the words were still typed and caused hurt. The action was still taken, and unfortunately, even *if* he feels terrible over it, he can't take it back. What's done is done, and just make up for it now.

But like I said, even with other mods and members doing the work behind the scenes. And I really hope to god that they do actually address this shit publicly. The longer it could go on, the more people will feel so betrayed (rightfully), and the more fans it will reach to demand something. Like this isn't the hlvrai days anymore rtvs, they have fans that can donate thousands to charity and sell out merchandise within hours. They want to unify the brand together? so they have to GET IT TOGETHER. Act maturely next time. If they aren't able to properly rectify a situation with a problematic sponsor or collaboration in time, then just apologize and listen to people's suggestions. God damn. How hard was it to read a letter that wasn't attacking them. And if anything, they tried really hard to give them so much benefit since it was from Fans. And even if not from fans, still don't treat indigenous people like this (common sense, no?). I know some of the crew are white and, or at this point, privileged to do what they can and probably never had to deal with the unique oppression indigenous people do as most humans never will. But, still. They have to get over it. Read the letter and understand it, and stop trying to act like any criticism is the end of your world/jobs. It will be if most of them don't learn from this incident.

[bookie-bookdust]

Helpful (but Aggressive) Guide to the new Hogwarts Legacy PC Mod Update✨

I have been seeing NOTHING BUT COMPLAINING about this damn update and no one actually trying to help each other. So I'm going to do my damn best here to give you a little intro into this new update. Because instead of leaning into the standard toxic consumerism bullshit of fandom, why don't we actually try to be nice to each other?? And the fucking modders who put all this time and effort into making this for us?!?!!?!?!? Special thanks to @anomalyaly because we were up last night trying to figure this out LOL. These screenshots are hers and mine!

PART ONE: Why is my game crashing?

You need to delete your old Nexus ~mod folder from the game files. Throw it in the trash, cut and past it somewhere in your documents, idc. Just get it out of there. The pathway to find it is:

2. Steam senses your bad attitude and don't like it idk. I'm not IT. Turn it off and back on again.

NOTE: Once you start up the game and get it working, you can bring back compatible mods from Nexus. You just need to create a new folder to put them in. It can't be the original one. If your game crashes after that, then you have an incompatible mod in there. You'll have to go down the list until you narrow down which one it is - typically will be a face mod, hair mod, jewelry, or a mod that already exists in the new mod store thing. Yeet it.

PART TWO: I'm not going to teach you how to add the new in-game mods and start the game. I'm not your mom. It's pretty intuitive honestly.

PART THREE: Where the fuck are the clothing mods I just added????

An excellent question, my new charge. You need to go to GladRags to get them. You're going to have to long rest at least three days for them to show up in his store. For me, it took five times lol. This is kind of annoying, but it needs to be immersive to the game I guess so oh well. I don't think we'll die from it.

See all those red exclamation points? That was my fault. I loaded a wizard clothing mod into a witch save. So if you see that, you loaded something you shouldn't have.

PART FOUR: HOW DO I CHANGE MY UGLY ASS HAIR?

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. You're going to go to that hairstyle lady in Hogsmeade I'm too lazy to look up the name of. That bitch charges you for the new hairstyles but you can download unlimited money cheats so whatever.

Don't mind my face lol. I was having a BP makeup glitch LOL

PART THIRTY-SEVEN: How do I change my makeup?

This part sucks. RIGHT NOW as of 1/31/2025, you have to be in the main character design screen at the beginning of the damn game. BUT BUT BUT - if you mod back in the BP character editor, you can do it anywhere. My hope is a new mod will replace this so the game works more smoothly.

Those white spaces? They're the new in-game mods for hair and makeup. Well, most of them. I think some are just random blank spaces lol.

Part Six: Where are my unlocked spells and unlimited plants and shit?

Two reasons they're not showing up:

If you just added this mod and you load your game in the middle of the mission, you need to finish the mission first.

You probably have something incompatible (a nexus mod) that isn't playing nice. Yeet it.

After getting everything squared away, I look fucking great. You are not doomed to a potato face🥔. I FUCKING PROMISE YOU ON SOLOMON'S LIFE.

Truly guys, once you work out the kinks in this update, it's really. fucking. nice.

Before I reinstalled the nexus mods, the game was running so smoothly and the graphics were beautiful. I loaded in 20 mods all at once, and the game handled them just fine. After reloading the nexus mods it was a bit clunky, but of course it would be.

I know change is scary. Also for those who spent time creating/commissioning mods that are no longer compatible, they have the biggest right to be freaking out. BUT BUT BUT we all fucking know the old mods AND SO MANY MORE will be back soon. People are working their asses off in the background converting things right now.

I want to put some things into perspective for you:

We have not had a real update in two years (no, photo mode doesn't count). This is literally the best kind of update we could ever ask for. We are not dependent on the devs for updates with this. In the launch event they were speaking as if you can create your own quests; there are audio mods....think about it guys. Endless protentional. (The only things that aren't going to make it are if you have weird ass like engorgio penis mods because there's no way they're approving those for public use hahahaha)

The devs reached out to people in the community to ask for feedback and to collaborate. THEY CARE ABOUT THE FANDOM. Consider what that may mean for the sequel??? We might not be forced to stomach Hogwarts Legacy 2: Dumbledore's Jorts. They're listening (but they're not going to listen if you're fucking rude and stupid).

You guys shitting on this update very vocally here, on twitter, and on tiktok are forgetting that people in your community helped create it and can SEE YOU. STOP IT. Whine in private!!!!!! Also because I knowww I have to specify because someone is going to take everything personally, I don't mean posts making funny jokes about the updates and just being like ahhhh wtf is going on I'm so lost and whatnot. Like please guys, read the room. I'm referring to nasty comments.

So yes, I'm here with a positive review of the update, and an insanely aggressive reminder to calm the fuck down and go touch some grass. The old mods will be back soon. This update makes using them so much easier. Also, THE POOR CONSOLE PLAYERS DON'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING YET SOOOOOOOO

I WILL NOT BE TAKING ANY QUESTIONS OR CRITICISM SO STFU. THANKS FOR READING THIS LONG ASS POST IF YOU'RE STILL HERE. OKAAAY BYEEeeEE.

[rjalker]

from the replies:

mercifulmother Dec 1, 2024

The amount of white man blinking gif I'm doing at that person right now. I am so TIRED of those popular romance tropes. Like I get it, it's fake and a fantasy, but I want some variety so I can read what I want too, you know? I really desperately wish I could find more stories with the main romances actually caring for and respecting each other. Sigh. Just gotta write the hyper-specific stuff I want myself I guess!

novella-november Dec 1, 2024

Yeah, like. Just because werewolf fiction has a common trope of women being treated like crap, don't get to transform at all, or if they can transform, doing so will cause miscarriages during pregnancy and they commonly get abused by the men in their life and this is seen as the 'correct' and Normal Thing in werewolf fiction………

………. doesn't mean that's a trope we should continue or endlessly praise this trope.

*standing in doorway looking over my shoulder: "sometimes, popular tropes… are bad"

mercifulmother Dec 1, 2024

[claps] Yes, this, thank you. Its so utterly ridiculous and doesn't even make any sense? Like. It's magic. It's literally magic and FAKE and people can, in fact, make up whatever new werewolf rules they want that are not… This hot mess nonsense. I can't even read werewolf romances anymore because it's always like this and I hate it. I don't see how that's supposed to be interesting or romantic in the slightest. I can literally just watch true crime if that's what I'm after. There are so many other interpretations out there that are sitting around just… Untouched. And for that matter, I'm so tired of abuser-to-still-abuser wearing the enemies-to-lovers trench coat. Why does the one enemy always have to be extremely controlling, cruel, violent, and utterly unapologetic with no attempts to even admit to their wrongdoings (which at that point shouldn't be forgiven regardless). Whatever happened to enemies who deeply respected each other's abilities and are obsessed with each other instead because nobody else can understand them? Or enemies who hate being on the opposite side and are desperately trying to 'save' each other because the respect and care go that deep? Like. Literally anything other than aggressively trying to oppress and abuse and subjugate the other (and it's ALWAYS a man doing this to a woman like haha funny how that works except it's not funny).

Making a much longer post short:

If you are writing a Romance, especially one you want your readers to root for, please make sure you take the time to include lots of little scenes that show that:

your characters actually are *friends* as well as lovers,

they enjoy spending time with each other on a casual basis

they respect as well as love each other

they try to communicate their feelings clearly instead of bottling their ire up til it explodes in violent arguments

neither of your characters are genuinely afraid of the other when they're angry

that they do not threaten each other with bodily harm during arguments, or use physical force

they respect each other's consent, and respect their partner's wants and wishes when it comes to physical affection.

pretty much to sum it up: do your characters actually enjoy being with each other, or is the entire relationship built on lust and dramatic arguments and nothing else?

Because if your relationship is the latter, your readers are more likely to want them to *break up* rather than *stay together*.

[meraki-yao]

Poppy Playtime Chapter 4 Thoughts (Spoilers!)

Who stayed up till 1:30 am trembling in her blanket and continued to do so the whole morning for the new Poppy Playtime Chapter? Me!

So here are my thoughts and a few theories before the freshness washes off

(also disclaimer, I didn't actually play the game because I am by no means a gamer and way too much of a scaredy-cat to actually play it, this is based on the play-throughs I watched)

Thoughts

Monsters/Bosses:

Yarnaby:

Big kitty. Seriously though I feel like he's kind of standard for a poppy mid-level boss.

Pianosaurus:

Now some say that he was wasted but honestly I don't think so? All things considered I don't think he was hyped up all that much: he had one distorted image in the ARG and one jingle with not much actual information on the bigger-body. So truthfully speaking, I think the twist of having him be so quickly and suddenly destroyed by Doey was really successful, I for sure did not see it coming at all.

Nightmare Critters:

Okay as someone who really grew to love the smiling critters, the nightmare critters' very concept confused me. Like I don't dislike it, I'm just confused, like what is the in-game reason for their existence? I really think they wanted to reuse the mini-smiling critters concept from chapter three, but since the smiling critters in Chapter 4 are children refugees in Safe Haven, to make a distinction they created the nightmare critters. Defintiely annoying little pests though, which means they're fulfilling their purpose quite well.

The Doctor:

I was wondering if they were gonna re-use the weeping angels mechanism from Miss Delight because when I watched the trailer I couldn't think of anything else, but turns out they're traffic light systems but reverse: yellow means the minion is going to move, and red means it is moving. The VA acting is absolutely on point, so all the applause to Baldwin, but game play wise I... honestly feel it's a little underwhelming? It's all very confusing and a lot of brute forcing, and truthfully speaking to have this villain that was built up for so long, second to the prototype get destroy fairly quickly, felt... too easy for such a horrendous character. I still don't understand with what intention is he and prototype collaborating. I also feel like the stuff in the ARG about Sawyer's backstory didn't really pay off?

Doey:

OH GODS I CRIED SO MUCH I COULD WRITE A WHOLE POST ABOUT DOEY ALONE. I knew he was gonna be a twist/final boss in someway just because of how he was marketed, but oh my God, I wasn't prepared for how tragic this was. I think it is the oldest sister/eldest daughter in me, seeing Doey try so damn hard to be a leader to wayward children, trying so hard to manage and protect everyone, that's something I understand and sympathise with. The oldest part of him was only 15 when the hour of joy happened! The tape of him talking to himself, giving himself a reminder to keep holding on and protecting kids, God that broke my heart. I was sobbing and muttering "it's okay... you did great... you can rest now... you can go see your mommy and daddy and friends now" when he died.

I think the two facts that make this even more tragic is that the other completely sympathetic character, Dog Day (still my favourite best boi), bad things was inflicted on him. Even Dog Day as a boss, that wasn't his choice, he didn't have one. Doey on the other hand, it was self-inflicted: I can't say him going beserk was a choice per se, emotions are complicated, but he was the responsible one. This pain was self-inflicted, and unlike Dog Day, could have been avoided.

Which brings me to my second point: for Doey (so I have to emphasise, this is in NO WAY a comment on actual DID systems, and boy do I have thoughts on that), in one of the VHS tape, the scientist remarked that one of the kids that made him up: Kevin Barnes, was erratic and aggressive, and could pose a danger if included in the experiment. He ended up being included because Sawyer demanded it and "The Doctor's word is law". This means if Kevin wasn't included in Doey, if it was just Jack and Matthew, then Doey wouldn't have that insane breakdown. He would be sad, he would feel guilty, yes, but all of those are the average human emotions experienced in a situation like this, and it wouldn't have been so destructive. HE COULD HAVE SURVIVED. In his insane monster form, we can literally see the three kids in the monster's mouth, two of them frowning and one of them angry, the two sad kids trying to hold the mad one back. THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED.

Anyways, I love the guy. I'll be drawing and mourning him. Sleep well buddy, you can rest now.

Plot and Lore:

Riley made me cry so much too. God, what a kid, trying to help, even a single soul till the very, very end. Sleep well kiddo. You did so well, and you're with your mom and dad now.

Also the way she described being turnd into a bigger-body, I wanted to throw up. Props to the writers for doing such a good job on that.

Oh the excited shout I let out when I saw the tape with Bigger Bodies Hoppy! So we know that there are more Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters that survived past the experiments and the hour of joy. But then I remembered that Dog Day said he was the last of the smiling critters and got sad, whoever Hoppy is, at this point in the story, she's gone :(

The omni-hand confuses me storywise: it's just a keycard equivalent?

Kissy Missy!!!! (that's it, I just love her)

I called three things: Poppy being Elliot's daughter, Ollie being the prototype, and Huggy still being alive. Granted a lot of people called it too, these are just the theories I believed in that turned out to be true

THERE ARE SO MANY DEAD BODIES AND EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM WAS A CHILD BEFORE I WANT TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS THIS IS AWFUL

The player is shaking in idle. That is some details. Also this person is gonna be triple traumatised.

I don't think Poppy is evil per se, but I think she is very selfish and self-centred, in the sense that she believes that she is the one with all the answers. I wonder how much did Elliot Ludwig spoil her. Also, bitch, she ditched us again.

Theories and Questions

In the Hoppy VHS, she mentioned she got jumped while trying to get supplies: jumped by what and who?

What the hell is the deal with Stella Greyber's change of heart in joining the executives on the bigger-bodies initiatives? Her change of heart is so sudden and so illogical?

It's one thing for Poppy to believe in Ollie. But Doey knowing and believing in Ollie too? How many people did he fool?

Also given that Ollie is the prototype, was his "HE'S OUTSIDE" that led to Doey going out and leaving safe haven a distraction?

I think the prototype is also an amalgamation, and one of the identities is Elliot Ludwig. It's final speech to Poppy, telling her to "come home" sound pretty in line with an evil father figure, and my sister pointed out if you removed the "T", "Elliot" is an anagram for "Ollie".

What is the prototypes agenda at this point? It's willing to collaborate with the doctor, the very person that started all this hellfire. It doesn't care about the children's lives seeing as he bombed Safe Haven, killing everyone inside. It's whole "burn it all down" idea actually echoes Poppy's agenda, but Poppy sounds genuinely shocked and scared to learn that Ollie is the prototype. What the hell is going on?

Who is Kissy? The bigger-body Kissy Missy that's been our companion for the past two chapters. Game Theory had their theory that it was Patty Hall, but I'm... starting to think it was Stella? We don't know Kissy's experiment number, and I don't think we have any info on Stella's status during the hour of joy, so it's not impossible. It's just... their... attitudes, for a lack of better words, seem to align.

Leith Pierre is out there somewhere, we know he survived since he's in project playtime, but where the hell is he now? He is a bigger player in this scheme than he lets one. I don't believe he's not gonna make an appearance in the future.

What the hell is Rich's deal? So turns out he's one of the more likeable higher-ups? And he's the head of shipping? What is up with his change in attitude from moody aggressive guy to the dad friend/supervisor?

There's this one mystery from Chapter two that still hasn't been solved: there were slides with plates of each department's head's name and one was missing: we still don't know who that could be.

I truly think at the very least for this storyline, the next chapter is the last. The doctor was the second greatest villain and now he's dead. Additionally, we came into direct contact with the prototype, so from a storytelling perspective, the next chapter has to be the last stand. I don't believe this will be the end of the poppy playtime universe though.

Conclusion/Overall Comment on the Chapter:

I liked the chapter, but I think the problem is that unlike the previous chapters that felt like a constant overall upgrade, this one didn't feel like an improvement (but nor it did feel like a downgrade though). There are aspects of the chapter that definitely improved from that last: the graphics, the gameplay mechanics, the gore making people immediately physically uneasy, and characterisation of both major and minor characters, making us immediately love or hate them in a very short time. But the pacing really felt less enjoyable compared to the last chapter, same with the boss battles. It felt like it dragged too much then rushed too much. The pros and cons kinda cancel each other out, leadings to a net zero.

My favourite is still Chapter three, but I'll give this one a 7.5/10.

[gears-twisting-and-turning]

Stex x reader request if you don’t mind! How would greaseball react if you were “his” coach and after a fight you were instead racing with Electra, and vice versa (Electra’s component racing with GB after you argue?) thank you I love your imagines!! 🚂 🩷

I may or may not have gone a bit to far with this request- It was so juicy I just had to kind of go wild. I really hope you like it :]

She/they/him pronouns for Electra by the way

Also assumed it was like old GB + Electra :]

Cw - yelling, cursing, people not communicating omg just say something, but also don't it makes it juicier <3

---

Greaseball would be pissed to say the least. Yes he knows he kind of messed up, but you fucking went with the walking talking Dutch?… American?…. French??? Whatever walking talking flag he is!

Finding out later that it was technically his own fault, since you were trying to get back at him for the argument that had happened earlier would kind of send his entire world spirling. 

Hey hasn’t he seen this song and dance before? That’s crazy- 

Voices were getting louder and louder by the second. You have had enough of Greaseball’s constant cheating and you didn’t want to race with him anymore if he continued to do so. Don’t get it twisted, you were fine on the race track, you even could throw in a punch yourself, you loved doing it.

It was the fact it was getting tiring, you loved the thrill of racing, but you wished it would for once come out without dents in your body because he had uncoupled you too hard while standing off with someone in the middle of the track. Or have the other engines pull on you to make the champion slower.

When you had told Greaseball this, things didn’t go that well. It turned into a screaming match between the two, currently you had tuned him out, used to his loud yelling. That was until certain words hit your ear.

“Well if it’s such a problem, then why don’t you find a ‘better engine’ to race with?!” He didn’t give you a moment to process as he turned around and skated away. You knew you had been uncoupled, yet instead of sadness and regret that he expected you to feel, you only felt your blood boil hotter. 

You weren’t going to stand for this, this loud, abrasive asshole wasn’t going to treat you like a child and put you in the corner for a time out unless you knew how to behave. You skated up to the electric’s dock building, marching right in without a second thought.

Soon enough Krupp had rolled up to you, making you stop right in your tracks as the stocky armaments truck stood in your path. “Halt!” He said in a firm tone, making you realize just how crazy you probably looked. With a sigh you held up your hands. “Sorry if I came off as aggressive, I just need to talk to Electra.” “Electra isn’t taking any visitors currently.” Krupp answered, not asking why you were here as it wasn’t his business and he didn’t seem particularly interested in your reason. You felt your anger return for a moment, but you held back. You took a deep breath. “It’s important, I promise you that he’ll want to know.”

Krupp raised an eyebrow, no doubt confused under those sunglasses of his, before looking back. He opened his mouth to respond, until you quickly added. “It’s about the race and Greaseball.” The truck looked at you for a moment, before looking over at Purse who happened to be lingering near.

“Purse, get Electra. Tell them Greaseball’s coach has something to talk to her about.” 

Soon enough the red, white and blue electric engine stood in front of you. “You better have a good reason why I have been called.” They started, looking down at you from their freakishly tall height with a glare. 

You just wanted this over with, but you had to persist. There was only one thing that Greaseball couldn’t stand, something that was easy to get underneath his skin. “I want to race with you.” 

Electra faltered only for a moment, you didn’t know if it was because of your surprising authoritative tone, or if it was because of the contents of the sentence you just spoke to him. You could physically see the several questions that bounced in her head, before she shook her head. “Why?”

“Because after I brought up a valid concern he uncoupled me and left me in the dust ‘to think about what I’ve done’. I’m not letting him walk over me…” You trailed off, if this was going to work you’d have to put in a bit of… persuasion to get Electra to agree. “And what would piss him off more, than me going for the handsome, speedy electric that would leave him in the dust?” You said skating around her, softly touching their arm back and other arm as you circled her. 

For a moment Electra glared down at you, yet it was clear he was thinking about it. “Deal.” He said after a bit and you knew it was going to be perfect. 

It was time, you stood ready for control to announce your new race partner with you behind him. You couldn’t wait to see Greaseball’s face when he realized he had messed up and you weren’t going to take this back unless he started growling on his knees for you.

You heard control call out Electra’s name and soon you felt yourself being pulled forwards by the electric engine, the crowd cheering as you two came out of the docks and underneath the beautiful light that illuminated the both of you perfectly. 

After taking in the beautiful scenery with the crowd’s excited cheering in for a bit, you turned your head towards Greaseball who seemed to shake off the look of surprise on his face and then gave you a look that was perfectly between the emotions of anger and hurt.

You could only give him a mean smirk, before letting your face fall and let him see how pissed you were at him. Further than that the race was a blur, all you knew is that you won with Electra in front of you.

After the race was over the consequences came in full force. Although you had tuned out the way, Greaseball came up to Electra and the both of them got into a verbal fighting match, until Electra decided to stomp away in a childish fit of rage. Luckily you were already uncoupled, but that left you and Greaseball alone.

“You dared to go to that damn electric just to humiliate me?!” He roared in anger, turning towards you. You gave him a harsh glare and held up your hand. “I will not be yelled at Greaseball. If you have a problem, talk like a fucking adult.” 

Greaseball faltered, almost as if he forgot you wouldn’t let yourself get walked all over. He stepped back, anger still visible in his eyes, but clearly didn’t have a proper way to express that other than yelling. 

You took a deep breath. “Okay I’ll admit that was petty of me, but can you really blame me after you left me in the dust like that? One argument was all it took for you to leave me.” You said, the hurt finally seeping into your tone as all of your own anger finally disappeared and made way for the sadness you felt. 

“I-... Fuck, I'm sorry.” Greaseball said, practically forcing the words out of his throat as if they were foreign to him. “I’m too.” You simply responded, it was exhausting enough to keep all that anger up. You kind of wished to already be back in his arms and forget about the stupid race.

Luckily you got your wish as the diesel engine skated closer towards you and put his strong arms around you. For a moment you let your guard down, leaning into the embrace of him as the two of you stood there in silence.

“Was he better than me?”

“I never want to be behind an electric again.” You responded matter of factly. “I like the purr your engine gives.”

---

Electra would not be off any better than Greaseball. Although their anger is a lot more stomping their feet with a chance of getting a zap sent towards you. You’re just lucky he would never hurt you like that.

Not only did you not race with them, but it’s with that loud, toxic masculine, diesel??? She cannot even fathom why the hell in your right mind you would race with a filthy, greasy engine like Greaseball. 

They wouldn’t even know what to do with herself. You might just send him absolutely spirling or fainting in his compartment’s arms like when Pearl decided to go with Greaseball…. hey are you getting deja vu or is that just me? 

That’s it, you were done being side lined. You understood Electra racing with Volta, she was by far the best choice out of all of you as she was composed, knew how to handle herself and was positively elegant on the racing track. 

Not to mention she was part of your group and yet there you were, standing and staring at this new observation car that suddenly showed up. Apparently Volta had a headache (What an amazing lie, Purse) and couldn’t race with Electra anymore, so apparently she was the next best option and was chosen to race with them.

You knew that it wasn’t Purse’s fault as he was just following orders, but you couldn’t help but feel a little salty here. Not only were you the next best person to race with them, he was your fucking partner. So now you were cast aside like some toy just because Electra found this newer, prettier thing to race with.

You had tried to bring it up to Electa, but you only got met with. “Do not question me, baby.” With a sharp tone that made you almost want to cry. Being so harshly rejected by your own partner and you were supposed to just… take it lying down?! You didn’t think so.

With newfound determination you managed to sneak away from the electric engines and the rest of the components to find the diesel you were looking for. It wasn’t hard as he was loud and currently was with his rolling stock and the rest of the international trains, doing their usual engine thing.

“Greaseball.” You called out, causing the world champion to whirl around to face you. He looked you up and down with a cautious look, before raising his chin to try and seem bigger. “What do you want, electric?” He asked, slightly puffing up his chest.

“Calm down, I don’t want trouble. I have… I guess a favor to ask.” You said while skating a bit closer to him. Two of his rolling stock buddies seemed to want to lunge out, but he stopped them by holding his arms out to the side. “I’m listening.” Greaseball said as he skated closer to you in turn.

“I want to race with you.” You swear you could see his eyes bugging out of his eye sockets as he fully straightened himself out. “I’m sorry I don’t think I heard you.” He said putting his finger towards your face.

You simply slapped his hand away. “I want to race with you. I’ve been side lined one too many times. I don’t mind if it’s by my fellow compartments, but some random new girl isn’t going to cut it. I’m going to show him what I’m made of on the racing track and I need your help to do that.”

A wicked smile suddenly crossed Greaseball’s face. “Sounds good, I’m in.” He said as he looked back at the rolling stock. “I’ll be back, I think me and this one have some training to do.” He said, putting a hand around your waist as he led you over to the training tracks.

With the blink of an eye it was racing day and you knew exactly what to do. You had shined your outfit and you looked your absolute best. You were gunning for surprise, a jaw drop and a childish stomp on the floor like a bunny that was mad. 

Control suddenly said Greaseball’s name and you were pulled forwards into the wonderful sound of a cheering crowd, big bright lights and the wind in your hair as he put on a show of how he was going to win.

Your eyes immediately found Electra who’s neck snapped towards you and Greaseball the moment she heard your name called out by control after Greaseball’s. For a moment you thought they pulled some wires with how their eyes twitched, but it was exactly the reaction you were looking for.

They didn’t seem to realize the race was about to start, until Pearl had touched their shoulder and looked at him in concern. You just looked forward with a smirk as you made sure you were ready for the race yourself.

The race was like a whirlwind, but it was far from done even though it was over now. You had won with Greaseball and you knew Electra wasn’t going to be happy. You stood alone having already said your goodbyes to Greaseball after the race, waiting for Electra.

Soon enough you hear him stomping up from behind you. “What was that about?” They demanded in an eerily cold and sharp tone which made you flinch and almost prepare for a zap. “That was me wanting to race, Electra.” You responded as you turned around to face her with a frown.

“With that diesel? How could you betray me like that?!” He raised their voice as they towered over you with their blue eyes staring holes inside of you. “Oh so I have to just be okay with you getting a new play toy?!” You asked, tears in your eyes as you got choked up on your own emotions.

“Fuck! I didn’t want to cry!” You yelled out in frustration, you had tried to promise yourself you’d be brave when confronting Electra and yet all you could do was think about the hurt that you felt when they chose Pearl.

Yet when you looked back up at Electra, all of their anger had vanished. “I’m… so sorry.” They said almost defeated and you felt like you had to get your ears checked out by Wrench, did he just say he was sorry?

“I didn’t want to make you feel that way. I- There’s no real excuse for this.” Electra said clearly, opting out of explaining as well. “Just don’t go back to that diesel.” She said, trying to keep her composure of the confidence they normally possessed. 

You couldn’t keep back any longer, you just skated forwards and into their arms. “I’m sorry too, for going to Greaseball. I just wanted to prove myself.” You murmured into their chest as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head.

“I know and you did.”

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Look. i love creed. but he is messy to write. he never knows what he wants exactly.

logan and him are AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Remy opens the door the the brotherhood house and makes it three steps in before he is tackled to the ground. Remy yelps and is slammed with a wall of aggression, worry and… possessiveness.? Is that even an emotion?? His brain spins as he hears sniffing and growling beside his ear.

Oh.

Sabretooth. Who… apparently doesn't like the smell of Logan. 

“Why do you stink of the runt?”

Sabretooth growls and before Remy can form a reply to the fangs that are near his ears, Logan is growling.

“Maybe because I drove him home, Creed.”

Remy feels anxiety and rage leaking from Logan and his brain feels very assaulted by the large waves of emotions that crash against him. 

“Maybe we all calm down, non?”

Remy tries to get out, squirming a bit. Sabretooth pins him a little more firmly and Remy goes still. He is not wiggling prey. He is not being strapped to a table. He is pinned by Sabretooth, who he sort of knows, and not by mental powers from a vile scientist. He takes a deep shuddering breath while the two ferals keep growling deep. he needs to achieve calm or he's gonna spark again.

Remy begins to hum, long and low. He fills his mind with his brother's singing and piano playing. He lets his body relax, letting go of all his tension. Sabretooth makes a snuffling noise. 

“Sabretooth, I'm fine. I had a bad day at school and Logan found me in the aftermath of my powers gettin’ loose. He brought me home. Don't claw him up for bringin’ me back.”

Remy says carefully and calmly. Sabretooth meets his eyes and sniffs again. Sabretooth slowly shifts back. 

“Fine.”

Remy sits up but stays sitting, looking at Logan. Logan is still tensed, ready to fight.

“Logan, do you gotta be growlin’? You stepped into his territory. Invited by me, mais he wouldn't know that.”

The teen starts swiping at the dirt clinging to his clothing. He feels a flash of confusion from both but they both back down a bit. Remy nods to himself.

“Fine.”

Logan huffs.

“Perfect.”

Remy chirps back and slowly rises up. His back hurts a bit from hitting the ground so hard.

“Did you have to tackle me so hard homme?”

Remy asks, rubbing his back. Sabretooth looks a little contrite in his eyes but gives a huffy snort. 

“Don't come home smelling like an enemy then.”

“Fair enough. You catch anythin’ today?”

Remy starts to walk towards the house. 

Logan interrupts before Sabretooth can speak. 

“Kid… Are you okay? Really?”

Remy scrunches up his nose and turns, one hand on a hip. He can see Logan looking over the old house that is a bit battered. A bit in disrepair. Remy can feel judgment rolling off of Logan. Sabretooth puffs up a bit.

“I'm fine Logan. You don't gotta be askin’ that every time you see me. Im fine. Mon petits are fine. Everythin’ is fine and I need to take a nap.”

He gently puts a hand on Sabretooth’s arm. He hopes the man will not snap at him. Sabretooth shifts a bit so that Remy is now safely behind him. Remy blinks at this. What? 

“Leave runt.”

Logan looks at Sabretooth and steps back just a small bit. Enough to be a concession but not a submission. 

“We need to talk Creed.”

Sabretooth snarls. Remy crosses his arms. 

“I'd rather fight.”

Sabretooth shifts forwards and Remy makes a noise.

“Don't you dare be fightin’ near the house!! We got a hard enough time with accidental powers goin’ off!”

Remy says, letting his irritation be heard loudly. 

“Victor.”

Logan says head bending slightly. 

Sabretooth huffs and bends his head slightly. 

“Fine. We’re just gonna talk, pup. Go inside.”

Sabretooth steps towards Logan and Remy isn't sure what is swirling off of both of them.

“Sabre’ooth?”

He asks, hesitating a little. He is not going to leave the person helping him feed the household alone with a potential enemy. Sabretooth turns his head and chuffs at him. 

“I caught some rabbits and left them in the kitchen. I'll come help you after I talk to Jimmy here.”

Remy slowly nods.

“I'm trustin’ you. Yell if it comes to blows. I’ll fight with you.”

He says, touching Sabretooth’s arm and then walking inside. 

--

Creed is a little pleased with the last thing Remy says and finds himself surprised at that. Huh. Seems like he has a pack now. One of the main reasons for his panic and rage when smelling Logan’s scent mixed with Remy’s was worry that something had happened to the pup that had taken pretty good care of him. Creed finds that he likes being looked after and having someone eat his hunts and appreciate them. And Creed knows that he hates sharing. So Logan daring to be around Creed’s newly forming pack is annoying. 

“What do you want runt?”

He growls. Logan huffs but gestures away from the house.

“Show me your territory boundaries. You are planning to stay long-term, arent you?”

The words are clipped and tense. 

[postsforposting]

that's an incredibly negative view. i don't think people should default to steelman; i do think taking a positive view, especially of toneless plain text, should be the default. it makes for a pleasant atmosphere. unfortunately people, especially online, seem to think the meanest view of those around them is.....a good thing? how it should be??? that there's no other way to do things???

we really can just. not. do that. believing other people mean well is....a pretty basic requirement not only for civility but also for simple geniality.

and again, "it sure can be stated in a negative or entitled way, but that is true of literally everything. that isn't the nature of the sentiments expressed here." i didn't rephrase anything.

the difference is your attitude vs mine about other people that neither of us know. everyone knows a "bad attitude" sours everything, not because the rest of the world is suddenly foul, but because that's what you personally see. most people have the self awareness that's a personal problem and they should not change how they treat other people based on....personal mood. you can feel annoyed while understanding "annoyance and selfishness" is your own miasma and not what others meant.

that's. really the entire thesis. if we're going to declare hate is the default, and it's this hard for people to understand, perhaps we need to demonstrate why that's a bad idea.

"where is the content"

if we interpret the meaning in your way, this is someone who is either new to fandom or to a particular website. it is a normal question to ask. most people in the world never even know settings and manuals exist, let alone look at, understand, or change them: the things that control their experience. for clarity given the nature of this conversation, i do not mean "haha what a fucking entitled jackass" in the sense of your use of "ignorant"; i mean "figuring out and understanding things is hard for most people". let alone people who are new to a thing. asking something like this is normal, expected, and necessary. responding in the tune of "what an asshole" is unkind and establishes a gross atmosphere.

i daresay a lot of people are familiar with the lucky 10,000 comic. everyone likes that, but when it comes time to practice it? yeesh.

you misunderstood what i said above; i don't think it would be useful or correct to dismiss that as ""fucking ignorant"". it sure does make a lot of people feel good to do that though. which is the problem.

even going "where is the content????" is often "i am frustrated that i can't find these wonderful things everyone else easily finds, will someone show me". "where the fuck is everything" is the same idea in a much more combative tone; for some strange reason, it seems like that would be seen LESS negatively given the worldviews in this post.

imo, generally people ask "where is the content" to express that they have noticed there is less now than there used to be. hence: i love this so much, why don't other people.

people write in the style of how they talk when having an in person conversation. generally nobody goes around delicately crafting their punctuation to avoid the slew of wrong interpretations that are possible with any statement. let alone the cultural differences that can contribute to that. people assume you're going to understand them, or at least that you'll ask for clarification and not default to jumping down their throat. like, you know. the way people navigate normal conversations.

i don't know why people should have to put that much effort into what they say, while listeners not only don't but aren't expected to put in any thought to how they're interpreting it. the speaker has to accommodate literally every possible way they could be interpreted, including batshit aggressive ones (which means they have to assume their listeners are both.....ignorant....and nasty? unpleasant way to live.), while the listener gets to assume their knee jerk and negative assumptions are perfect and they can't have possibly misunderstood or inserted things that aren't there?

fuckin weird.

"why has all the hype died down"

if most people understand this, either this person is one of the ones that do not, or they don't mean it strictly literally.

if they do not understand it, again, asking why is a normal and expected thing. lucky ten thousand, yeah? responding negatively to that is....not nice. does not create a pleasant atmosphere. i don't think most people are familiar with serious fandom; most people aren't part of it, meaning they watch a thing, like it and move on without engaging further. the "fandom" people are generally familiar with is juggernauts that have lasted decades, things with dedicated yearly events: things that have never died down and the average person always likes. it is normal to think that if you like a thing, you don't suddenly stop. that's wrong, but it's how people think of fandom.

if they do not mean it literally, imo it usually means something to the effect of "why did people stop liking this". a normal thing to ask, especially if they also don't understand the fad nature that most fandoms go through.

"Why is there no more content why did everyone leave"

follows naturally from the previous. "there is nothing" generally means "i can't find anything". it's a request for help. people are uninclined to phrase it as "please help" because.....a lot of people respond to that with "haha what a fucking ignorant asshole". it should not be hard to see why that's destructive.

it could also mean "there is way less", which again, is normal to wonder. "there is way less" is only asked if you....want more. because you enjoy it. that brings us to

"it's about the blatent dismissal of creators' work and being content-hungry"

which you unambiguously mean in a negative way.

"i am sad that there is less" does require that the speaker enjoy the content and would like more. that is....the opposite of "blatent dismissal". the most common fan question is "will there be a sequel" and "what's the release date". you seem to think those are disgustingly hateful things to ask, which is a bit odd given that most fandoms get upset when their canon content is cancelled.

"i like this so much that i want more" is second breakfast and elevensies type behavior. of course people are.....content hungry. i think it's a bit mean to take gollum's view that pippin and merry are nassssty wicked hobbitses for that. it should be obvious that such an attitude drives people away and makes it feel like their appreciation isn't wanted.

....

i gotta say, i'm tickled pink that people who identify as "serious fans" deny that there can be meaning beside what you personally interpret, especially when the common fandom sentiment is "oh that was a clumsy accident, it doesn't mean anything deeper" while.....inserting all this extra meaning for actual, real, people who haven't had years to craft what they mean. we imbue two seconds of thought with hatred, but nothing for years' worth of a deliberate act?

"there is less" is about those who stopped. it is not about those who remain. it's quite obviously not about you. to answer with "it's not dead, i'm still posting" is to insert yourself where you weren't addressed. sir this is a wendy's. even when it IS a personal question, that's not inherently a demand to perform, it is literally just interest in you and your thoughts. "why" is not a hateful question. and even, EVEN a personal question, you still really can just. not answer at all. regardless of the valence you assign to it.

people are always going to have the same questions as other people, because every day someone new shows up, or someone old has a new thought. reality and your reaction to it are separate things. if they were not, we would have to shout down every kid asking endless whys, since obviously the parent's annoyance and frustration must be synonymous with the kid being a hateful greedy dismissive monster telling its mother she's not good enough, a child who needs to be taught that expressing interest is a sin. bad way to go about interacting with other people, if i do say so myself.

if you don't enjoy the culture of having everything you say reprocessed into its secret and true evil meaning that you obviously totally intended, perhaps we should. just not do that. to other people. as a general rule.

hostility is unpleasant to be around. there shouldn't even be "doubt" to benefit from, but even then, assuming other people aren't evil should not be treated as a sin. whereas doubt literally is a canonical sin.

'Where is all the Deadpool and Wolverine content'

'Why has all the hype died down'

'Why is there no more content why did everyone leave'

Meanwhile the people who are making the content are left feeling insulted because lord forbid we're not enough. Dude stfu and make your own stuff or didn't complain.

Do you see me whining about Boondock Saints? No! Because that's an old franchise and there's not near as much stuff as they're used to be, but I love everything that comes from it. And I don't ever complain.

[entropicbias]

star trek online with a youtube video.

(note, this is an old post, but i've decided to do more blogging like this here, so i remembered it.)

i decided to try out star trek online and live out my trekkie fantasies the other day. my first run in with the game was eons ago at a thrift store, but my current laptop is lacking a cd player, so i couldn't really try it out for sure. i don't know if it would work anyways considering it's a copy of the game from, what, 2010? what would be the point of that.

the first star trek game i ever played was the TNG game for the snes. i emulated it on my shitty old laptop. it was unfortunately a bust, cause i had no idea what i was doing.

speaking of tng, before i do my review, did you know a certain somebody used to make tng edits? can you recognize that flute sample?

anyway, my best friend dave (who doesn’t even have a tumblr) brought it up, assuming i’d never heard of star trek online. TCH! who do you think i am, you simpleton? naturally, i had to flex on him. whipping out the cd like some kind of seasoned star trek online veteran just to make a mockery of him. but really, the joke is on me, because let’s be honest, no one takes a self-proclaimed star trek online expert seriously.

so, i downloaded it off steam and ignored all the mixed reviews! i didn't stay in character creation for too long, but i tried to make him resemble me as much as possible. that's because my character's name is john kirk. he is john tiberius kirk.

john t. kirk of the u.s.s johnterprise. because enterprise is a restricted word (STUPID AND LAME?)

here is what i was greeted to.

quite frankly, i'm a little upset at the amount of diversity aboard. already i am seeing TWO vulcans. this is absurd. there is only one vulcan that should be aboard my ship, and he hasn't finished downloading the game yet.

OK! TIME TO PLAY THE FREAKIN' GAME FOR REAL! :D

after picking some of my skills (i chose to be aggressive, pistol handy, and uhh... i forgot the other one but believe me when i say it was good.)

i am meet this son of a bitch

captain...? CAPTAIN? OF THE JOHNTERPRISE? THE HELL YOU ARE! GET YOUR FALLOUT CLAYMATION ASS OFF OF MY FREAKING CHAIR! i thought you started out as captain? what is the point of naming my ship if i don't even get to be captain??? i need to show this guy who is BOSS.

the second thing i figured out about this game, is that if you walk into an object and believe in yourself you can actually gyrate with skill akin to that of a zumba instructor. so, i immediately had to gyrate next to captain isaac carrot to put him in his place.

it was a massacre for garrett. if i was you, "captain", i'd hang my head in shame and go back to being an ensign from being so hopelessly outmatched. it was also at this point i remembered that i could record my gameplay, which countered my ability to remember that my computer's cpu couldn't properly cool itself and i hadn't turned on my laptop fan. so amidst scanning some debris, my computer shat itself and died.

AND THEN RECORDED THE REST OF MY GAMEPLAY! watch it here. https://youtu.be/eeEs0el8Woo?si=djN9iLpkH3bGwNle there is some impossibly hard to read commentary there, and you may be wondering why i don't talk, and that's because i sound like bart simpson, so it's best that you just squint your eyes and pretend like morgan freeman's sultry voice is narrating my captions. if you do not want to sit through half an hour of shitty footage, then feel free to skip to 24:47 where i realize that you do not get a chance to meet captain kirk at the end of your first rodeo, and it genuinely breaks my heart. that is todays post, goodbye. update from jan 2025: i haven't touched the game since because i realized that i was just not going to be all that invested if most of the gameplay was from outside of the ship and i didn't have my very own personal spock.

-eb

[yanderes-galore]

Would you do a yandere Sanji (One Piece) concept?

YES! He's single handedly one of my favorite characters so I hope I get things right!

❗️Some spoilers for Sanji's backstory in Whole Cake Island Arc❗️

Yandere! Sanji Vinsmoke Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Clingy behavior, Submissive yandere, Jealousy, Violence, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Attachment issues/Fear of abandonment, Stalking, Isolation, Delusional behavior, Blood, Implied murder, Brief mentions of marking, Tampered food, Possible cannibalism implied, Possible drugging implied, Forced relationship implied.

Sanji himself can be an intense and clingy yandere due to his past.

He's someone who wants to please, always has been since he was young.

He's had a rough time growing up which affects how he acts with his obsession.

For example, Sanji might be against trapping his obsession in a cell as he knows how it feels.

He's loyal and caring towards you, even self sacrificing like he is with most of the crew.

Sanji would take anything you gave him with a smile.

Which isn't healthy but he doesn't care as long as you pay attention to him.

Sanji works as a romantic yandere most of the time, which is what this concept focuses on.

When he finds someone he loves... He no doubt will do anything to pursue them.

Sanji is probably one of the most affectionate yanderes on the Straw Hat crew.

He's flirtatious, sticking around you while planning ways to earn your attention

Out of all the Straw Hats, Sanji would probably be the most submissive with his obsession.

Don't get me wrong, Sanji isn't always like that.

I'm just saying if his obsession asked him to, the man is on his knees with hearts in his eyes.

Honestly to him, your word is law at times, but he's no pushover.

Sanji will definitely swap his demeanors if you asked him too.

Yet if anyone is around you, he's quick to be an intimidating presence.

Sanji can be a rather controlled yandere despite being intense.

He's possessive and easily jealous though....

Sanji wants to protect and impress his obsession, completely unwilling to watch you throw yourself into danger.

He treats you with manners, like a gentleman despite his pirate origins.

Although, considering his biological family, it makes sense.

Man... He'd do downright anything for your love.

He'll wait for you, defend you, cook for you, anything.

As long as he has your attention, he's a happy man.

Even if you just choose to smile at him or thank him for something, he's swooning.

Sanji might also fall into the pathetic yandere category around you.

However, as I said before, he isn't always like that.

There's times when Sanji will be aggressive, jealous, or overall possessive.

He'd most likely form rivalries with others, especially Zoro.

He loathes the idea of Zoro winning your heart over him.

He's not even a gentleman who's willing to observe and tend to you!

Sanji, while acting like a gentleman, can sometimes be a creep.

He stalks you, yet never likes to admit that's what he's doing.

He's a bit delusional, telling you he just... want to attend to you?

He's your bodyguard now, like it or not.

At first you don't mind because, well, the crew has a tendency to be targeted by others.

Yet you can't excuse the rumors you hear of Sanji rummaging through your clothes or belongings in general.

You just seem to know it's him when things go missing.

He probably won't really want to admit to it when you confront him either.

He might stop when you tell him to... but no promises.

If Sanji was obsessed with something, he'd probably practice being dedicated to you.

He hasn't loved someone as intense as he does with you.

It's strange for the crew to see Sanji indifferent to a pretty lady, instead focusing on you.

Normally he's a big flirt... yet it looks like you've charmed him.

It's interesting how fast Sanji can swap his behavior around you.

Sanji could be over protective or worked up over you.

Maybe he's having an argument or overall just fighting with someone else about you.

But once everything is taken care of, he's practically on his knees in front of you like he's yours to command.

Sanji could go from kicking someone half to death... to kissing you senseless.

Everything he does is for you when he's obsessed.

Even if you turned him down, even if you said you weren't ready to date...

He'll patiently wait for you, all while being incredibly clingy like usual.

Now, would Sanji kill over you?

Usually Sanji knows when to stop.

He'd probably get into fights or hurt someone bad... but usually they can recover.

However... If Sanji snapped, probably due to seeing you hurt or taken from him...

He'd snap, see red, and by the end of it is probably covered in blood.

Sanji sees no issue with this if it's for you.

It's ironic considering his father deemed him a failure for not being an emotionless assassin.

Sanji is far from emotionless, in fact he has no shame in expressing himself around his crew.

Yet the man sometimes acts like an assassin if it means he's protecting who he loves.

He hates scaring you though, often coming up to you to check if you're alright.

Even if his suit is wet with blood.

Towards most, his jealousy starts small.

He grumbles a bit or gets moody.

Although, if he feels you're getting too close to someone else, he steps in.

Even if you aren't dating, he acts like you are.

Could be his delusions, could be him just trying to scare others off...

It's unclear, really.

He'd never harm his own crew too badly but he may get in fights with those not a part of the Straw Hats.

Like someone flirting with you on the street or something? That would be enough to set Sanji off.

But murder... well... that's reserved for if he thinks he'll lose you.

Something he doesn't think he could ever accept.

Sanji has different ways of displaying affection.

It always seems to be intimate in a way, but the intensity depends on his mood.

Most of the time his affection is soft, gentle, and loving...

He likes to pull you aside in private to pepper you in kisses.

He wants to cuddle you, to show you he can be the perfect man for you.

He'll hold you close in a hammock, tell you that you're the only one for him.

He's gentle when he kisses your lips, like you're porcelain.

He'd let you take the lead if you wanted just to see you happy.

He wants you to want him too.

If he's jealous, his affection is rougher.

He nips your skin a bit and often takes the lead.

He tries not to harm you, yet at the same time he wants to show everyone you're his.

He desperately wants someone to love him back for who he is.

In fact, while Sanji would probably attempt to change himself to have you love him... if you accepted him for who he is?

He's surprised... yet is completely enamored.

All Sanji wants is for you to accept him, to be your lover.

He yearns for love as he was rather isolated when younger.

Now he's scared once he has you he can lose you.

He'd never lock you away... but he'd never leave you alone either.

He doesn't want you to leave him which is why he's so submissive towards you.

Just tell him what you want... He'll do it.

If you want me to drop some more twisted things, Sanji insists on being the one to cook your food.

Which would, y'know, allow him to slip things in?

This is rare, but if Sanji is delusional enough, I can see him putting a drug in your food...

Or even a part of him if you want to go down that route.

That seems a bit too OOC... yet it's possible, depending on how dark you want to make him.

He doesn't want to breach your trust... yet curiosity may get the better of him.

Point is, yandere Sanji can either be sweet, submissive, and insecure who wants to protect you and jealous... or a total creep if you want to go down that route.

Regardless, in his own delusional little way, Sanji adores you.

He'd spoil you with affection and gifts...

He'd make sure you know he's the only one you can love.

Overall, he can probably be a sweet boyfriend...

If you don't look into his more creepy behavior.