#not that fandom space is stupid for not agreeing with you

[macabremoons]

still find it funny when I see the take that fandom is bad at diverse platonic relationships and always defaults to pesky, pesky parental relationships. God, I really can't think of a single reason many people seeking escapism would craft positive parental relationships from their media... can't think of a single justification as to why people want to see random man be a good father.

[blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings]

[bellshazes]

several days late but what if i do want to think about s5 e19 vegas au. who are u thinking is bleeding out in the desert after saving one reality yet dooming many others

HI HELLO???????? WHO ARE YOU AND UNFORTUNATELY HAVE YOU BEEN AROUND LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW THIS BC OF WHEN I'VE POSTED IT PREVIOUSLY OR ?

anyway. bdubs is the type of guy to blow up a solar system through his perfect genius. this is known. and etho is the most just some guy who is also kind of a freak loner fail jockgenius who probably likes ferris wheels and things that go 200mph (and he's got dumb wristbands!!!).

the problem is that alt universe etho would NOT be doing all that vegas shit. bdubs absolutely is starryeyed trying to save the alt universe version of his friend but he's also more hte type to bleed out uselessly for no reason after chasing a space vampire across the desert. etho could BARELY do r*dney but bdubs is so vegas to me. all of it. the real question is who is Todd. and i can't answer that question bc it makes me want to cry laughing every time i generate a random name as answer

although based on fourth or fifth-hand reports of other mcyt smp updates. frankly the most bleeding out in the desert vegas-style guy of all time must be scott smajor but i don't know enough to figure allt hat out. and he should be stopped. so

[starlooove]

You know I talk a lot about how fandom doesn’t realize how fucking bigoted it is in every aspect bc they get turned on by gay men and go by sock and that means they’re progressive but it hit me when someone with a viktor pfp is in the comments getting gassed up (ha. You’ll see in a second) by other braindead bitches for saying piltover gassing (get it) the streets is not bad and is actually appropriate to do in order to find one person. Like how the fuck do you watch arcane and agree with the enforcers. How is the propoganda working for you when you’re looking at EVERY angle. I will sound insane if I connect this to common viewpoints on stuff irl and I do have enough tact not to do this however I will say it’s less surprise and more. Watching another dominoe fall after it wobbled for a few minutes. What the fuck

[synthetic-sonata]

good lord got a post put on my dash that was some Fandom Opinion blog talking ab how things irl shouldn't be mentioned in spaces where it's not meant for. curiously, i searched racism, and well, what you expected to happen happened,

[communistkenobi]

I’ve been thinking a lot about fandom recently, both as someone who has engaged with it regularly for over a decade on various platforms and also as someone who has increasingly become disenchanted with those spaces. Not only because of pervasive issues of (especially anti-Black) racism, misogyny, transphobia/homophobia, and the like, but the particular way those things take shape within fandom.

At the most basic level I think fandom has a fundamental methodological problem with the way it approaches texts, be they shows, books, movies, etc. What I mean is that people almost invariably approach fandom at the level of character, often at the level of ship - your primary way of viewing a text is filtered through favourite characters and favourite relationships, as opposed to, say, favourite scenes, favourite themes, favourite conflicts.

This is reinforced through the architecture of dominant platforms that host fan content, particularly AO3 - there are separate categories for fandom, character and ship, and everything else is lumped together in “Additional Tags.” You cannot, for example, filter for fics on AO3 by the category of “critical perspective” or “thematic exploration”. There is no dedicated space for fan authors to declare their analytical perspective on the text they are writing about. If an author declares these things, they do so individually, they must go out of their way to do so, because there are no dedicated or universally agreed-upon tags to indicate those things, and if your fanfiction has a lot of tags, that announcement of criticality gets mushed together in a sea of other tags, sharing the same space with tags like “fluff and angst” or “porn without plot.” Perhaps one of the few tags closest to approaching this is the tag “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat,” which doesn’t indicate perspective or theme but rather that there is, broadly, some kind of “problematic content” contained therein - often of a sexual nature, frequently as a warning about “bad” ships.

Now this is not an inherent problem, as in, it is not inherently incorrect to approach a text and primarily derive pleasure from it by focusing on a given character or relationship. And I think a lot of mainstream media encourages (even requires) audiences to engage with their stories at these character- and ship-levels. The political economy of the production of art (one which is capitalistic, one that seeks to generate comfort, titillation, controversy, nostalgia, or shock for the purposes of drawing in viewership, one that increasingly pursues social media metrics of “engagement” and “impressions”, one that allows for the Netflix model of making two-season shows before cancelling them, as well as a whole host of other things) enforces a particular narrative orthodoxy, one that heavily focuses on the individual interiority of specific characters, one that is deeply concerned with the maintenance of white bourgeois middle class values of property ownership, the nuclear family, normative heterosexual sexuality and gender, settler-colonial ideas about community and environment, etc. If you do not care about the familial drama surrounding Shauna cheating on her husband in Yellowjackets, for example, because you think the institution of monogamous marriage and the nuclear family is stupid and violent and heternormative, then you will have a difficult time engaging with the show in general. We exist within a deeply normative (and frequently reactionary) media environment that encourages us to approach art in a particular way, one that privileges the individual over other narrative components (settings, themes, conflicts, ideas, political and moral perspectives, structure, tone, etc).

All of which culminates in priming fans to engage with art at these levels and these levels alone, even when that scope is deeply inappropriate. A standout example I recently encountered was browsing the fandom tags on tumblr for the movie Prey - a movie that recontextualises the original Predator film by setting it in colonial America to make the argument that the horrific violence of white colonists and imperial soldiers is identical to the violence we see the Predator do to human beings. It is a movie that makes the argument that, despite this alien monster running around killing people, the villains of the franchise are these occupying soldiers and settlers, an alien force who themselves have just as little regard for (indigenous) human life.

And when browsing the tags on tumblr, what I found was dozens upon dozens of horny posts about how hot the predator monster was. Certainly there were discussion of the film’s narrative, and these posts got a good amount of notes, but the tags were heavily dominated with a focus on the Predator itself. People were engaging with this film not as a solid action movie with interesting and compelling anti-colonial themes, but as a way to be horny about a creature that is, ironically, a stand-in for white settler indifference to (and perpetuation of) indigenous suffering. And if this is your takeaway from an extremely straightforward film with a very clear message, this is not merely a failure to comprehend the content of a text, this is something beyond it - a problem that I think is due in part to the methodological problem of approaching all texts as vessels for bourgeois interiority, individual but ultimately interchangeable expressions of sexuality, perhaps best-expressed by the term “roving slash fandom,” a phenomenon wherein fans will move from one fandom to the next in search of two (usually white, usually skinny) guys to draw and write porn of, uncaring of any of the surrounding context of the stories they are embedded in, and consequently dominating a large sector of fandom discussion.

This even gets expressed in the primary ideological battleground of fandom itself, the ridiculous partitioning of all fan conflict into “pro-“ and “anti-“ shipping compartments. Your stance on engagement with fandom itself historically was (and still is) always first filtered through one of these two labels, describing your fundamental perspective on all texts you engage with. And both of these two labels are only concerned with shipping, as if all disagreements about art can only be interpreted through the lens of what characters you think are acceptable to draw or write having sex. Nowhere in this binary is space to describe any other perspective you might take, what approaches you think are valuable when interacting with art, what themes or stories you think are worth exploring. It’s not just that the pro/anti divide is juvenile and overly-simplistic, it is a declaration that all fan conflict must be read through the lens of shipping and shipping only - the implication being that any objections raised, and criticisms offered, is ultimately just bitching about ships you don’t like.

Which, again, I think is a fundamental error of methodology. It leaves no space for people to discuss the political and moral content of a work, the themes of a piece of art, the thorny issues of representation not just as expressed through individual characters but entire worlds, narratives, settings, and themes. You are always hopelessly stuck in the quagmire of “shipping discourse,” and even rejecting that framework will inevitably get you labelled as either pro- or anti-ship anyway - and you will almost invariably be labelled an “anti” if you express any kind of distaste for the bigoted behaviour of fans or the content of the text itself, again reinforcing the idea that this is all just pointless whining online about icky ships you personally hate.

And this issue is best perhaps epitomised by reader insert fanfiction, circumventing any need for you to project onto a character by literally inserting yourself into fiction, primarily in order to write/read about a character you want to fuck. This then intersects in particularly disgusting ways with real world politics, such as reader insert fics about Pedro Pascal going with you to BLM protests. Even if this is (incredibly over-generously) interpreted as a very poor attempt at being “progressive,” it still demonstrates that many (white) fans are often incapable of thinking about anything outside of a character-centric perspective, quite literally centring themselves in the process, and consequently they think it’s totally appropriate to do things like that. The fact that this is also frequently a racist lens is not coincidental, because again, a chronic focus on (fictional) individuality prohibits any structural perspective from entering the discussion, which necessarily excludes a coherent or useful perspective on systemic issues, where people come to the conclusion that the topic of police brutality is little more than a fun stage to enact whatever romantic shenanigans you want to get up to with a hot guy.

I will stress, again, that it is not a moral sin to have a favourite character, nor is it bad to enjoy reading about two guys having sex in fanfiction. I enjoy and do those things, I engage with fandom often through a character-centric lens (see my url) - because it’s fun! But I think that this being the dominant mode of engagement inherently excludes and marginalises all other approaches, and creates a fandom space where the most valuable way to talk about media is to discuss which two characters you most enjoy imagining fucking each other

[python333]

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.” 

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago. 

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late. 

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath. 

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left. 

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?” 

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening. 

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind. 

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me? 

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece. 

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking. 

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?” 

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment. 

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?” 

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you. 

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—” 

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.” 

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath. 

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again. 

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—” 

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear. 

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it. 

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.” 

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?” 

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?” 

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?” 

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.” 

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?” 

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.” 

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?” 

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?” 

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.” 

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?” 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?” 

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—” 

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too. 

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet. 

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?” 

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed. 

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…” 

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.” 

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.” 

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth. 

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?” 

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…” 

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.” 

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away. 

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before. 

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed. 

— 

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates. 

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows. 

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you. 

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly. 

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well. 

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one. 

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head. 

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more. 

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back. 

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.” 

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—” 

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together. 

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?” 

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin. 

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit. 

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.” 

“You had the right to.” 

“Sure I did.” 

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.” 

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.” 

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

[deathdetermineslife]

I genuinely cannot stand you and your account. Every time I make a new account, you're always the in selfship tags filling it up with your terrible art and shitty posts. You are a waste of space and no one in this community likes you. Your f/o (who isnt YOUR f/o by the way, stop calling him that) doesn't love you, he definitely thinks you're annoying and wouldn't love you in any universe. I want you to know that I have an entire group of selfshippers I'm friends with that wish you'd do the world a favor and kill yourself, just so you know. It doesn't matter if you block me, by the way, because I can and will make new accounts to try to make you feel like shit. I pray to God every day you get in a terrible accident and die a slow and painful death. You mischaracterize "your" f/o (just a reminder, he doesn't love you and wishes you were dead!), you make the entire selfshipping community look stupid, and you're a sharer, too, which means you don't actually love any of your f/os anyways. You should get off of Tumblr. I'm serious, several of my friends are skilled hackers and will dox you. You don't deserve any of the merchandise you own, you don't deserve to be happy, really. And don't even try to tell me that since I'm a proshipper this goes against my "antiharassment values" or whatever I'm sure you'll try to say, every single proshipper I've spoken to thinks you're a hypocritical, disgusting, terrible individual that doesn't deserve the likes and attention you get. I seriously cannot believe anyone will a brain follows you. They probably do because antis don't have brains. They're retards that like throwing pedophile accusations at anyone that breathes. You all are some of the most idiotic and stupid people I've ever seen in my entire life. I cannot stand you. No one likes you, any mutual you think you have is secretly hoping you die, and trust me, a few people I know who follow you or at the very least have reblogged your things are secret proshippers! Isn't that terrible? I'm sure you think so. Because you think we're so bad, don't you? You think that all of us are rapists and evil people that deserve the death penalty. Every time someone reblogs the art you make and says "otp" and "I ship it", just know they're lying to you, they don't believe that, in fact, everyone's out to get you and no one likes you. And that server you own? Just know no one in there likes you. All of the friends you probably think you have? They don't like being around you. He doesn't love you, no one loves you, and if you have more f/os, they don't like you either. Your familial f/os want to disown you, your platonic f/os wish you weren't friends with them, and every single romantic f/o you THINK YOU HAVE does not LOVE YOU they DON'T LOVE YOU and they NEVER WILL. THEY DON'T LOVE YOU. Every person I have talked to you about agrees they wish you didn't exist they wish you never made an account they wish you never started posting to selfship Tumblr. You are lucky that your main blog isn't linked here because if it was, I would be sending asks there too so you'd have to delete your main blog too, and maybe then you wouldn't come back to Tumblr. The entire selfship community hates you and your lazy posts that a five-year-old could write up. In fact, just so you know, I regularly steal your posts and post them to the proselfship tag and they get more attention than your blog. Antis are the minority in fandom, no one likes antis. Not a single person likes them, you're all braindead children who have no morals or understanding of the world. This website would be better without you on it. I know you'll post this, and I know that there's probably going to be people in the replies telling you that they love you so much and that you're a good person and that "your" f/o loves you but he doesn't love you and he never will love you and you're absolutely fucking delusional if you think so. I fucking hate you. I'll continue to ban evade until I can push you off of this website. You can't get away from me and I will dox you.

uh oh someone let grandpa out of the nursing home again. also you sound like an evil supervillain. you expect me to take this seriously? this CANNOT be serious I'm giggling so fucking hard

anyways, heres all the art i have of me and korekiyo!

also bad news buddy, i dont have any familial or platonic f/os. womp womp. go back to algebra class, lil bro.

[blanketforcas]

🚩Cult and cultlike/toxic behavior: red flags in fandom 🚩

A non-exhaustive list inspired by my 10+ years of experience in fandom, both personal and second-hand. By sharing this, I hope to make other people more aware and able to protect themselves in the future. No fandom space or friend group is worth your mental health.

They claim they have secret information and use that to lure you in

They might either lovebomb you at first or make you (feel like you have to) prove your worth

The leader(s) of the group might not feel super approachable, at least not without fear of saying the wrong thing

They seem to create or point out a divide in fandom you’d never noticed before. Likely this divide isn’t actually there in wider fandom, or the need for it is wholly unnecessary.

They create an us vs them (outsiders) situation. Their group has the most knowledge and expertise, if others critique them it’s simply cause they must’ve heard false rumors. They are always the ones who are “misunderstood”.

Questioning statements from leaders/people with high regard in the group, is not without risk. You can get dogpiled, your intelligence put into question and gaslit about your own words and feelings.

You see discussions happen and get more heated, and at the end of that discussion the person on the receiving end of the things mentioned above ^ starts apologizing profusely and/or believes they are indeed stupid. However, if this person does keep defending their stance, they might get bullied or kicked out of the server/group chat

Too much emphasis on Being Right/having the correct take or theory – it may seem it has a higher priority than empathy and tactful communication

You need to have an opinion (their opinion), because silence equals condoning or agreeing with the “other side”

Bad-faith interpretations of posts/statements from someone considered part of the "out-group". You feel in your gut that something is off and they're misrepresenting it, but you find yourself wanting to agree anyway cause it fits the narrative the group subscribes to and going against that is generally not welcomed.

Everything is a moral issue. When everything is made out to be a high-stakes issue or reflective of everyone as a person, it's easier for the leader(s) to manipulate you.

You find yourself excusing people’s behavior because you agree with their point. The way they bring their argument forward and the tone they use, become subordinate to finding out the truthTM

There is such a thing as The TruthTM in every theory, discussion or analysis

If you don't Get It, it's cause you haven't "worked on yourself enough". Or it's cause you're not trying hard enough, or you haven't done enough reading, or you have blind spots only they can see.

There is a lot of conspiratorial thinking – maybe actors are trying to send us secret messages, maybe there is a Whole Lot You Don’t Know But We Do, Trust Us, maybe this or that person in fandom has tried to attack us and are planning a bigger attack,…

You barely/don’t have fandom friends outside of this group and if you do, you tend to intentionally (whether subconsciously or not) hide your experience from them. They wouldn’t understand the way they talk, they wouldn’t understand the way it works etc

They want to know a lot of your personal information. - might only happen once you get into higher ranks

You might get (more and more) specific “tasks”, it starts becoming a part-time job instead of a hobby/fun space to hang out with friends

Of course, these red flags are not always immediately visible let alone advertised when you join a group chat/discord server/twitter or tumblr bubble. They can also be nonexistent at first and show up later. Here are some general ways to stay vigilant:

Periodically check in with your values, if they might be changing & how you feel about that.

Keep an eye on the way people (and yourself) are being treated. Is it kind? Is it fair? Do you feel on edge all the time when you’re having conversations? Is your body more tense when you’re in this online space or when certain people are around? Be honest with yourself here.

Ask yourself: Is this space becoming my only coping mechanism? Am I spending too much time here? There’s no shame in spending a lot of time on things you enjoy, but do check in with yourself sometimes whether you are actually still having fun and if you are taking things too seriously or parasocialising a lot.

There's a lot of fun to be had in fandom and a lot of good that comes out of it - don't forget that. Keep seeking that. It's why we're here!

[adickaboutspoons]

Honestly, I don't think we as a fandom talk enough about how this:

is a moment of HUGE character growth.

I think people tend to miss that, because Stede is bitchy, that he doesn't really draw boundaries for himself, and ESPECIALLY not with Ed. Ed puts him on the spot and keeps pressing him for a solution to the Spanish persuit (knowing damn well the whole time that he's got a solution already)? Stede just marvels at the brilliance of the plan Ed didn't bother to share with anyone, and never calls him out on what a dick move that was. Ed tells him that exchanging books on the raid is stupid (it's not. Stede only has a limited amount of shelf-space in the library) and knocks his books to the floor? Stede again says nothing. Ed joins the French in humiliating "Thornrose" and accuses Stede of being jealous of the attention he's getting when Stede has tried multiple times to warn him about how fickle the adulation of these people can be? Stede sulks on the deck about "not being any good at these things" and when Ed shows up, humiliated, doesn't utter a single "I told you so" and, indeed, immediately goes on Ed's defense. Ed is a dick the entire treasure hike? Stede keeps trying to cheer him up by showing him cool bugs and complimenting the tenderness of the snake, and playing (flirting) with him. Ed confesses to intending to kill Stede? Stede not only agrees to forgive and forget, he focuses exclusively on helping his friend through his obvious emotional crisis. So when Stede actually stands up for himself? Draws a line in the sand and says "These are the things you are doing that I do not agree with. You didn't do them until this jackass showed up. Ergo, I don't like the things you do when you are around HIM." That's a big fucking deal. It's a little clumsily expressed, but give the man a break; he's new to this, and, as much as I'm sure he wishes Ed would just stop, he doesn't ask that of him. Instead, he just explains why he's upset and removes himself from the proceedings. He's FINALLY expressing his emotions clearly, explicitly and directly (the way so many people in fandom always say they want him to)! And I just think that deserves a little credit and celebration. Even if it makes Ed sad to be told he's acting like a dick, when he is, indeed, acting like a dick.

[ritzcuit]

ppl who follow me are tired of me saying this, but if i could address the aa fandom directly... i rly would just ask that people like, stop being mean about dd and soj. like thats all i want.

im not even IN the fandom anymore, so i have no reach. i draw fanart and make my little ship posts but thats all. and thats bc the wider fandom ... is so fucking mean sometimes. omg. like its just not fun!!

but really, specifically, its about the dd and soj thing. the "play ace attorney we have so many games and [MOST OF THEM] are good!" thing. like, its fine if you dont LIKE dd and soj, obviously!! im not saying you HAVE to!

but "i dont like these games" and "these games are objectively bad and no one likes them" are entirely different statements.

plenty of people like dd and soj, even have them as their favorite games. i know this bc my soj fanart gets notes 😭 i have ppl in my tags excited and happy when i draw dhurke and datz. bc we like these characters!! and like to think about them and the story they come from!

...just bc YOU dont like soj, doesnt mean a lot of ppl dont like soj! so i really dont understand the drive to constantly talk down and insult these games?! like ... why be negative. u could be nicer. its possible and easy and then doesnt drive ppl away from the fandom bc their favorite games are being trashtalked all the time.

a lot of ppl find the space family dd interesting! they LIKE the phantom and his concept as a character! they LIKE soj and all of the political settings! it doesnt rly matter that they are, by and large, A Little Flop, bc people still LIKE them and like making content for them and thinking abt them and playing in the space and...!! like. why hate that? why constantly put us down for enjoying smth you didnt?

just dont need to constantly make slights at how "bad" and supposedly unenjoyable dd and soj are. cus not only is it mean, and makes the fandom hostile, but its literally untrue. i dont even consider myself in the fandom anymore bc all the fun is taken out of it when i have to brace myself for shitty comments like this whenever i read a post abt the series!

and i rly wish i could just Not Care what other ppl say. a lot of my friends dont care. but soj is like.....ive spent the past 5 years loving that stupid ass mediocre game. like its deeply important to me. and i just feel like a lot of ppl would have some fun with it if they werent constantly told how bad and skippable it is. im sure dd fans feel the same way.

its very cliquey. its very "the popular opinion is correct and if you dont agree, you dont get to play with us". it just sucksssss

[avephelis]

okay. jrwi fandom. sitting you all down. i need everyone to hear this. all sides. okay? ready? the discourse is stupid. (TLDR: block each other)

making a dichotomy out of what is a nuanced topic, and enforcing it on EVERYONE with an "us versus them" mentality, is stupid. boundaries and fandom activity are not a black and white moral issue, and you are all harassing each other over having different personal opinions. and forcing that discourse onto everyone else.

you CANNOT and WILL NOT "win" an online argument by harassing people. if you group people up, and ostracise/villainise that group, those people are going to LASH OUT. and DOUBLE DOWN. they are not going to magically agree with you. it's frustrating, but that is how the internet works.

boundaries and fandom are complicated topics. jrwi boundaries, especially, hinge on a message from 2021, which has since been contradicted by the source material. it is a grey area. but REGARDLESS of your stance on that, the point of boundaries (about fictional media and fictional characters of age) are to protect an INDIVIDUAL, and what THEY see and interact with. not to create a code of rules for everyone. and as far as i'm aware, nobody has been making the council interact with nsfw content.

FURTHERMORE. people are ALLOWED to have their own boundaries. people are ALLOWED to be uncomfortable with sensitive content, and to choose whether to engage or disengage with it based on the information they are given. making fun of people (ESPECIALLY minors) for being uncomfortable with a complex situation, and for disengaging to look after themselves, as well as acting intentionally obtuse, is not counterculture. or a "ha, gotcha". it is not cool. it is immature and needlessly cruel.

and, while it is important for people to have safe spaces, jrwi is a piece of adult media. it is fine if teens are interacting with it and the fandom space, but you cannot expect everyone to cater to your personal comforts in that space. and i don't mean this condescendingly, but everyone NEEDS to be responsible for catering their experience to best look after themself and others. because social media by design is a hostile environment.

block tags that are uncomfortable. block people you are uncomfortable around. and the people creating said sensitive work? TAG IT so we can avoid it. rate it appropriately. it is not funny to intentionally expose people to content you know is triggering for them.

and as for callouts. if there is nobody being actively hurt (which there were not in recent events), you can handle it privately. otherwise you are actively exposing uninvolved people to content they are probably trying to avoid. which isn't productive.

please just be respectful and take care of both yourself and others.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

i for once want to get the opinion of a "rational" jikooker who knows how to take a step back and take certain things for what they are and i wanna know your opinion or interpretation of jikook in chap2 and them not meeting and also that conversation they had in the car about that please.

And you thought I'm that rational person? Funny.

You know, there's something I always disliked about being in this fandom space. I mean, there's plenty of other things, don't get me wrong, but this one in particular really irks me. It's the need for approval, for confirmation of one's thoughts. There's a severe lack of independent thought. It might be hidden under apparent strong opinions, but when you look at how those opinions are spread to anon messaging to bloggers everyday, that's a sign that the complete opposite happens.

Jikook as a kpop ship always has to be questioned. At this point, I think it's part of its narrative as a ship. But what's curious (and stupid) is that the hardest line of questioning comes from the ones who consider themselves interested/curious. But make no mistake, this is not done for the sake of not becoming delusional and discard any rational thought. It happens because of the need for approval.

You sent me this ask because you hope for me to agree with your own thoughts about jikook and what that conversation in the car means. Not for them actually, but for you. And you're not the only person. A sure sign of fandom insanity is debating for over 2 weeks now a conversation that is not only heavily editated, it is mediated as well. It takes place in the context of a show for fans in which participants are two people who will never reveal everything about their lives. And on top of that, there's an intentional need to ignore that people can speak in hyperbole, that people can ommit or say one thing that actually means more or another that only the other person is capable of understanding the nuances of that.

Communication is complex. We do know that because we engage with it everyday. Except we forget all that the moment we have to talk about this specific ship. We forget a lot of things about human behavior, relationships, etc. It is an intentional act. So we start writing fanfictions. We start making relationship timelines. We start taking about temporary or definitive break ups of a ship that hasn't even been confirmed as a couple. At this point, shippers operate into this alternative universe sphere, canon adjacent but instead of doing it on ao3, they use their blogs and anon messages for that. But hey, fanfics on ao3 are a lot of the times the work of talented writers, while 500-1000 words essays on tumblr are simply a complete waste of time after the first paragraph.

Is this what you would consider a rational perspective? Or should I start writing down a timeline of all the times in which JM and JK have met in "Chapter 2" up until NY in July? (As if in reality their lives are actually separated that clearly, as if a break in band work completely defines their personal lives, jesus christ!). So, should I note down all the public events that they've been to? And to draw a conclusion from it to prove or disprove that the amount of times they've seen each other is reflective or not of what they said in the car when they left for their trip? Of course, we should ignore that there's an entire life outside of what we see.

And that's the thing, you know? We all supposedly agree that they actually share little of their lives with their fans, but practically? The fandom doesn't really give a shit. Because of the classic parasocial relationship we have developed that makes us believe we know everything there is to know.

What we are allowed to see and what we hear from whispers here and there should allow us to realize that no theory over a supposed relationship is better than the other. Believing they are just friends, that they have broken up, that they are fwb and so on is in no way more rational that believing they are together.

What does this mean? If none of us are wiser? It means we have a choice. Some are choosing to be losers or little bitches crying in anon asks about their "insecurities" over a ship. Some are choosing to look at this ship as a duo that includes two people who have really good chemistry and who match each other's freak.

I've always been in the latter category, I thought that was obvious and I've said it before. If one day Jimin makes a public statement that he's marrying the love of his life, a sweet girl that is also the mother of his 5 secret children, then so be it. And if one day, Jungkook shows up one day after he decided to run away and join a bike gang where he met his boyfriend, then so be it. If somehow that next day, a jikook clip would turn up on my tl in which Jimin is brushing his teeth while straddling Jungkook, my reaction would be "well, jikook fuck. Often". You know why? Because for me, the public life of stars and what they choose to share is entertainment. A travel show, a wlive, concerts, these are all forms of entertainment. I do not consume my entertainment by being a loser on the internet, pondering if my assessment over two people might be fucking is real or not or is approved by other people.

[axeltr342]

Eltingville confession anons cowards in a nutshell

Over time the posts from that blog became more and more toxic, even when the author supposedly """ensures""" that it doesn't end up that way, but they obviously didn't care about that with their last post:

This take is very condescending towards both the fandom and Evan Dorkin, is genuinely concerning how butthurt you can be over people just having fun and expressing interests for the things they like.

Can we agree that the reason behind this take is really stupid? The fandom knows what Evan himself states: what he says are just possibilities. It is genuinely ridiculous to think that people being interested about what Evan has to say about a topic is somehow being a "gotcha seeker" or being "short on imagination".

Also can we talk about how every time people like this talk about this topic they always try to larp they are a better fan? Why are you so confident in saying that Evan doesn't like being asked by fans even tho he already stated multiple times that he likes it? How much of an idiot you have to be in order to call other people "lazy fans" for having an interest while the only thing you do is complain?

This may seem like a "man yell out at cloud" moment, but this is part of a bigger concern which is the little to no care from the blog's author and how they even break their own rules.

Like I said before, they don't even try to ensure that the confessions follow their own rules, even when the people behind them don't even sugarcoat the toxic intentions behind said takes.

As a result, the blog tends to casually bring a "safe space" for people to post and normalize toxic behavior and fantasies.

If you really want to make an anonymous blog something entertaining and interesting, then don't make it a safe place for cowards to throw their takes without any consequence just for the sake of content and attention.

[montyluvsjasper]

The problem isn't nuance or media literacy.

The problem is fans feeling like they own the work and characters.

The problem is people not deconstructing their purity culture and just putting its structure and attitudes into social justice and fandom spaces. (working on this myself and i will be making a separate post with useful links.)

The problem is using fandom spaces as social justice vehicles.

The problem is basing someone's moral character and values on what fictional stories and characters they enjoy.

The problem is the I'm right and if you don't agree with me you're stupid and a bad person mentality.

The problem is there is zero live and live mentality anymore.

The problem is rude delusional white social 20 something girls with a god complex saying "actually sweetie your wrong" along with a long line of mean girl insults. When they haven't so much as read a nonfiction book in years, watch a documentary that wasn't some flavor of true crime or researched something off of TikTok or Instagram. Sorry not sorry for saying that. I'm guilty of it too.

The problem is attacking actors, writers and other ARTISTS.

The problem with the current fandom climate goes so much farther than media literacy or nuance.

I'm tagging this in the GoT/HotD fandom but this IS UNIVERSAL.

[asirensrage]

Catalyst - Uzui Tengen & Wives One Shot

Title: Catalyst

Rating: M

Pairing: Reader/Makio/Hinatsuru/Suma/Tengen

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Warnings: Swearing. Sex. Polygamous relationships. F/F, M/F, mention of M/F/F/F/F. Mention of you being from the future. Un-betad.

Summary: You meet Makio first...

Notes: This fic possessed me. I don't entirely know what happened but here it is. I don't even usually like writing in 2nd person, but like I said, it possessed me. I just had the line "you meet Makio first" in my head and this is what happened. I wrote it in the space of 2-3 hours. This is my first time writing Tengen and his wives (aside from my Rengoku/OC fic which isn't posted). Reader is unnamed and undescribed but references to being female. Enjoy.

You meet Makio first. 

It happens by accident. You end up standing next to each other as you wait for your turn to pay for the food. Her outfit catches your attention, not because it’s low cut and short, but because it reminds you of the outfits you’re used to back home…in your own time. You’ve been blending in as best you can but the outfits are so restrictive in comparison. 

“Do you mind if I ask where you got your outfit? Who designed it?” 

She turns to you in surprise. “My outfit? Why?”

“I want one.” 

The request turns into her admitting that she makes the outfits with her wives but she’s willing to ask them if they’d help make you one. Providing you pay, of course. 

“Of course,” you agree. 

Meeting up again is easy, as well as providing the measurements and down payment you give. If you’re honest, you haven’t had a lot of luck since arriving, but your history in retail gives you a great customer service voice and the patience required not to snap at belligerent clients. It gets you a job as a server which pays decently enough that you can afford it.

The longer you talk, the more you’re amused at the woman. She’s a bit brash and unwilling to deal with stupidity, but she’s also a huge dork. It’s hilarious. 

The two of you often find yourself sitting on a hill in the area, enjoying the view. Makio likes to talk about her family. It’s nice, letting yourself pretend that everything’s okay. You’re used to the time period now, but you haven’t really let yourself make any friends, assuming you’ll get back. It’s been a year though and prior to meeting Makio, you didn’t really spend any time with anyone. 

She’s not around a lot, her work taking her away from the area often, but she promises to come back with the outfit the next time you see each other. 

The second one you meet is Hinatsuru. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Hinatsuru says with a smile. “Makio has been talking about you often. We hope you like the outfit.” She offers the bundle she’s holding. 

“Thank you,” you smile at her. It’s cute watching her blush. 

“Try it on,” Makio orders. You raise your eyebrows at her until she offers a please. “We want to make sure it fits.”

“Sure,” you say. “Mind waiting?”

“Not at all,” Hinatsuru says. 

You invite them into your home, the small apartment-style area that you rent. It takes most of your wages but the woman who acts as your landlord is nice enough and you don’t have to worry about people breaking in. Makio looks unimpressed at the space but she doesn’t say anything once Hinatsuru nudges her. You don’t care. You’ve lived in better but you’ve also lived in worse. You’ll take what you can get. 

You change quickly and the weight of the outfit is strange after so long in standard kimonos and yukatas, but it’s nice. You feel like you can move again. You come out, unashamed in the sudden change of the amount of skin you’re showing. It’s freeing. 

The women waiting for you look surprised as you grin at them.

“Well? What do you think?” The dress is a cobalt blue with a black obi around your waist. There are slits up the sides with a short skirt that ends above your knees. 

“You look great!” Makio says. “Not as good as us though,” she adds, teasingly. You roll your eyes, used to her antics. 

“It suits you,” Hinatsuru says softly, her gaze darting between the two of you. 

“Thank you!” You grin at her before moving to grab the rest of the payment that you owe them. “Here. Do you think I’d be able to order more?”

“Are you sure?” Hinatsuru asks. “It is…revealing for the average citizen. We don’t want you to get any trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” you assure, thinking of your origins. “I’m anything but average.” 

You meet Suma next. She follows the other two, bouncing slightly before darting past them to greet you. 

“It’s you! I finally get to meet you!” 

You blink in surprise at the enthusiasm as she clasps your hands in hers. She grins widely. “Makio’s been keeping you a secret.”

“No, I haven’t!” Makio yells, reaching to drag Suma back away from you. You try not to smile as they argue, or more so, as Makio argues and Suma reacts dramatically. Hinatsuru sighs but looks at them fondly before she heads towards you. 

“We’re so glad to see you again,” she says. 

“Me too,” you agree. “I missed your company.” 

She smiles at you, gaze softening slightly before the two of you are overrun by Makio and Suma, both demanding your attention. 

The longer you spend with these women, the more you understand how well they fit. They balance each other perfectly in a lot of ways and despite the way they like to argue, you can tell that they care about each other deeply. It’s sweet and a little heartbreaking. Not that you’re in love with any of them, but it’s a reminder of what you don’t have. You doubt that anyone here would want to marry you, especially since you don’t have relatable experiences. It’s fine. You can deal with it until you decide to shove the truth about yourself down so deep that no one will ever dig it out. 

You still spend the most time with Makio. Mainly out of habit more than anything. You think she might be your best friend but you’re not entirely sure you want to tell her that. It feels like there’s something waiting for you on the horizon and you’re not sure if it's impending doom or something great. Probably doom, knowing your luck. Maybe you’ll just wake up back home. 

“Are you okay?” Suma asks. The four of you are huddled in your small living area, snacks and tea laid out between you. 

“We should have just taken you home,” Makio grumbles. You know she’s just uncomfortable in the enclosed space but you like it. You feel safer knowing there are not a lot of areas for someone to hide in. 

“I’m fine,” you assure them. “Just a little homesick.” You catch the look they all give each other and wait, knowing there’s some question they want to ask. Can they read you as easily as you seem to be able to read them? 

“Oh,” Hinatsuru says softly. “Can you not go visit?” 

You give her a small smile. “No. There’s…there’s no way,” you pause and correct yourself. “There’s no one left.” 

Suma looks like she’s going to cry again and you wave her off. “It’s fine. I’m used to it now. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have friends, right? I have all of you now.” 

“Of course you have us!” Makio says, looking fierce in her outburst. “We’ll be your family, okay?”

You laugh slightly at the determination and that way Suma eagerly nods in agreement. “Thanks. I’d like that.” 

Things change after that. 

You’re not sure what it was, the reveal that you have no one else in this world or the fact that they’ve decided to be your family, but things change. They’re around more often, bringing small trinkets from their travels back to you that they insist improve your living space. They also touch you more. Not that they didn’t before, but it goes beyond the casual brush of skin as you sit next to each other or a hug goodbye. Hina, as she asks you to call her, enjoys playing with your hair of all things. Makio occasionally tries to feed you, offering bites from her own food or holding up a treat for you to try. Suma no longer has any concept of personal space, enjoying lounging herself across you and pressing her cold feet into your shins. 

It’s funny because you never considered yourself touch starved before but now? Now you think if they ever stop, you’ll miss it. Your life slowly adjusts to consist mainly of serving customers and the Uzui women. 

Makio, as every time before, is the first. This time to kiss you. 

You’re stunned as she pulls back and you can see the concern in her features that maybe she made a mistake. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought–” 

You stare at her for a moment before you grin at the expression on her face. “No,” you say, “I just…I’ve never kissed another woman before.”

“Did you not like it?” she asks. You know that if you tell her you didn’t, she’ll stop. Things will go back to the way they were. 

“It’s not that,” you admit. “You’re married.” 

She grins at you. “I know,” she agrees. “But all three of us have been talking about wanting more with you. We just weren’t sure what you want.” 

“Aren’t there four of you?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Lord Tengen knows,” she says. “He’s waiting.” 

For what? You want to ask but you don’t, because Makio moves forward again and you find yourself distracted by the feeling of her lips on yours. It’s different from the guys you’ve made out with. Not necessarily better or worse, just different. Turns out that Makio is a great kisser and you’re not as straight as you originally thought you were. Huh. Who knew?

Once that barrier is breached, the others are not long to follow. You feel a bit guilty to be making out with each of these women knowing that there’s a husband somewhere waiting for them, but this isn’t the first polygamous relationship you’ve heard of, especially since ethical non-monogamy seemed to be everywhere in the online dating arena, so you know that communication is the most important thing in a healthy relationship. You also have no doubts, based on what you know of these women, that one of them has told their husband everything. You’re just wondering when he’s going to make himself known. 

Speak of the devil and he’ll appear. Isn’t that the saying? 

You meet Tengen by accident. Well, probably not by accident since Makio said he was waiting and it was bound to happen, but you didn’t expect it like this. 

You were in the market on your day off, wandering from stall to stall in one of the outfits that Makio, Hina and Suma made. They had worried about you finding yourself in trouble due to the cut of it. Instead, trouble found you. The strange man propositions you on the street. You shoot him down. It’s not the first time you’ve had to do so to such a request and it likely won't be the last. No big deal. You’re used to it. 

Until he touches you. 

The man grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from moving on. Unfortunately for him, you come from an era of women’s rights, self-defence and a love of action movies. You shove your fingers into his throat before anyone else can step in. He recoils, coughing loudly, and let's go. You straighten your outfit and prepare to move on only to stop as someone appears between you and the man. 

“Now that’s a flashy response!” 

The man in front of you is huge. You’ve seen a lot of men in your life but you’re beginning to wonder if any of them ever compared to this one. His arms look like the size of your head. Your mouth drops open as you register the jewels on his headband and the swords at his back. You’ve heard every description of the man possible but you have never expected him to look like…this. 

He glances over his shoulder and you have to actually move to peek around him to see the man who assaulted you being led off by some other. Tengen turns back to look at you and you watch as his gaze overtly looks over you. There is nothing subtle about this man. At least, not when he doesn’t want to be. 

“So you’re the one monopolizing my wives.” 

“Maybe,” you admit. There’s no reason to lie. “They’re good people.”

“They are,” he agrees. “They’ve spoken highly of you.”

“Not as much as they’ve said about you, I’m sure.”

He grins at that. “May I join you?”

“Knock yourself out,” you say, nodding. He looks slightly confused before he grins as he realizes you’re saying yes. 

Tengen is not as patient as his wives. 

Which is funny because you never considered any of them to be patient once you got to know them. Maybe Hina, but that’s only in comparison to the others. He’s also straightforward. You like that. 

“You’re not only attracted to women,” he points out once he catches you staring at him again. Honestly, you’re just amazed at how small you feel next to the man. That’s never happened before. 

“Nope,” you agree. “Though, to be fair, it might only be them. I don’t know. I’ve never considered it before.” 

He seems pleased at the compliment to his wives and doesn’t hide the way he appreciates you as well. He walks you home and before he leaves, he promises to return and kisses you hard. It’s easy to see how he’s kept the three of them if this is how he kisses. 

You don’t see them during the days that Tengen is around. You suspect that there’s more going on, but you’re willing to let it play out. Getting to know him is like adding another piece to a puzzle. It all starts to make sense and you can understand how the dynamics fit. The four of them are practically a well-oiled, well-loved, machine and while you’re not entirely sure what their purpose is for you, you’re going to enjoy it. After all, who knows if you’re really going to stay? Even if it’s been almost two years. 

Makio is not the first this time. 

It’s Hina who proposes, even though they’re all there. You sit there, surprised at the offer. You hadn’t expected this. Even when they said they’d be your family, all those ages ago, you didn’t think they meant literally. 

“I can’t,” you admit, wincing as you watch Makio’s expression fade into blankness and Suma starts to cry. 

“Why?” she wails, reaching out to you. 

You consider it. It’s not that you don’t want to. You love them, each and every one. How could you not? At least, you’re sure that you do. You haven’t exactly tested things out completely, always stopping before it led to full-out sex because you had been unsure of their marriage, but the desire was there. 

“I don’t know if I’m here to stay,” you try to explain. “For good.” 

“What do you mean?” Tengen asks. “Where would you go?”

“Back to the future?”

They stare at you for a moment, the words processing before Tengen leans back and laughs. 

“I knew it!” He says, looking at you with a grin. “I knew you were flashier than you let on! Your score is different from everyone else's!”

“My score?” You don’t remember telling any of them how many people you’ve slept with….

He explains…and so do you. 

Things finally start to make sense. They never really explained what they did, at least not in detail besides trying to ensure you stayed indoors at night. The truth of their occupation, and their history, is the final puzzle piece. The truth of you clears up the confusion of all the strange little things that you do that don’t really make sense…but are also the same things that drew them all in. You all agree to give it some time, to think about it. 

It takes a day before Tengen is back with advice. 

“Say yes,” he says, hand on the small of your back as he pulls you towards him. “Even if the worst should happen and you leave, shouldn’t we enjoy the time we have? Marry us.”

“Let me think about it,” you ask, kissing him softly. 

Suma is the next. 

“Please say yes,” she begs. “Please! We need you!” 

You smile in response. “Let me think about it,” you ask again before kissing her this time. She melts into it and you try not to let it sway you. 

Hina comes about a week later. 

“Please join us,” she asks, holding your hand in hers. “We miss you. Let us take care of you and you take care of us.” 

“I miss you too,” you admit. “All of you. But are you sure?”

She kisses you. “We are. Are you?”

Makio is last. Her arms are crossed as you come across her waiting for you outside your work. 

“You’re being stupid,” she says as soon as she sees you. 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Why are you doing this to us?”

“What? Making you wait?”

“Yes!” The brashness fades as she looks at you. “Don’t you want us?” 

You sigh. “Of course I do.”

“Then marry us!” 

“One more day,” you say. “Give me one more day, okay? I’ll come to you.” 

You’ve known your answer since Tengen spoke to you. He’s right. Why should you deny yourself the chance of enjoying your life here, even if it might not be forever? Really, what is? If they want you, they can have you. 

It’s not hard to find their home despite the fact that you’ve never been there. The place is beautiful and a little out of the way. It suits them though you wonder if they’d like chimes. Wooden chimes would suit the place but it might be a bother considering Tengen’s hearing. 

The door opens before you even get to it and Suma comes running, nearly tackling you on the path. 

“You came!” 

You laugh as you hold her, miraculously steadying the both of you. It doesn’t last long as soon as Makio joins in. The three of you end up sprawled on the path and your face is covered in kisses despite the fact you still haven’t given an answer. You don’t mind. You know your answer and kiss them both back. 

“Alright,” you hear Tengen say. “Get up, you three.” Hina giggles as you all try to untangle yourselves. It takes a couple of tries before Tengen eventually steps in and lifts Suma off of you, listening to her protest. Makio stands up next and offers you her hand. 

You hold it, reaching out for Hina’s before you follow Tengen inside, trying not to laugh at Suma’s expression as she’s carried over his shoulder. 

You say yes. Tengen looks like he knew you would and the women are ecstatic. So are you. You’ve never felt as loved or as wanted as you do at that moment, as they all celebrate the fact that you’re joining them and going to become one of their wives. Even if you disappeared in this moment, you’d remember it forever. 

Luckily, that doesn’t happen. 

What does happen is that someone opens some sake and the night ends with you on your back and someone’s face between your legs. They know you’re inexperienced but the four of them aren’t. It’s not hard to listen to their cues, let them guide you and relish in the way you can help make them break. 

You learn new ways to use your tongue, the sweet spots that make each of them clutch you tighter and beg, and you learn how many times you’re capable of orgasming. It’s way more than you ever expected and you might have blacked out at some point. You come to curled up next to Suma while Hina’s head rests on your stomach. You’re all covered in sweat and the room stinks of sex. You can hear them though. The soft praises of Tengen and the way Makio cries out. 

“You did this,” he tells her. “You completed us.” 

“Thank you,” she cries out, clutching at his arm as he thrusts up into her. “For letting me–” She’s facing the rest of you. Both of them are and you catch Tengen’s eyes as he realizes you’re awake. 

“My beautiful wives,” he says, kissing her neck. “You’re so good to me. So good to all of us. How could I resist?” 

Suma shifts closer, throwing an arm around you as she buries her face against your skin. Indeed, you think, closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep even with the sounds of them fucking. How could you resist?

taglist: @raith-way  @chrissymunson @veetlegeuse  @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse