#stop excusing bad behaviour

[jotarobutcat]

I'll just be honest and say that I hate it when people use neurodivergency as an excuse to be immature. And by that I don't mean things like liking shows with a younger target audience or getting overwhelmed by tasks. These have nothing to do with being emotionally mature.

I mean refusing to cooperate or make compromises, throwing tantrums in public and overall disregarding other people's needs in order to make yourself comfortable.

The world doesn't revolve around you. We live in communities, and in order for the community to prosper, you need to take into account other people's needs and comfort as well, not just yours. If you have special needs, you're obviously allowed to ask that these needs are met as well as possible, but neurodivergency isn't a "do whatever you want without consequences" card.

You're allowed to have emotions, you're allowed to feel overwhelmed and you're allowed to have your own wants and needs, but you need to learn to communicate these in a mature way and to take other people into consideration as well. It's a part of growing up and maturing.

And before you come at me with the "we shouldn't have to abide by neurotypicals' rules", many of these rules also benefit many neurodivergent people. For example, I am extremely oversensitive to noise and have trauma from overbearing parents, if an adult man suddenly started screaming while I was bying new clothes I would likely have a panic attack. When somebody chews with their mouth open I feel like someone is trying to put a living spider in my ear. When someone throws a tantrum I have a hard time keeping myself calm because the noise is so overwhelming that it fills me with violent anger. It's not just neurotypical people who the "don't be an obnoxious little shit" rule benefits.

/nbh

EDIT: Since this is getting way more attention than I thought it would, and some misunderstandings have arisen, I'll just add here what I explained in the comments as well. Before anything, this edit is merely to prevent further misunderstandings, not to put anyone on a pedestal of shame for misunderstanding what I meant. The original post leaves many things vague, and it is understandable that it might come off the wrong way.

This post is about using neurodivergency as an excuse for bad behaviour, not as an explanation for problems that actually come with neurodivergency. It is specifically aimed at people with autism and/or ADHD who use their neurodivergency as an excuse for behaviour that is usually *not even caused by their neurodivergency*, but rather bad parenting or other external factors.

The word "tantrum" is NOT used to describe meltdowns here. Tantrums and meltdowns are very different in nature, the former being usually caused by an inability to accept not getting exactly what one wants, and the latter being caused by emotional or physical overwhelm. During tantrums a person is in control of their emotions, but chooses to release them as an angry outburst towards other people. During meltdowns a person is NOT in control of their emotions, and cannot choose how they present their overwhelm. If you need an example of what I mean by tantrums, you can look at your nearest neighbourhood "Karen" for that, and you will probably see that the kind of behaviour I mean is very different from an autistic meltdown.

#if you're mad at this you're part of the problem #stop excusing bad behaviour #do what you want in private #but have some courtesy in public #here come the generic tags #text post #autism #actually autistic #adhd #actually adhd #audhd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity

[hamartia-grander]

I definitely used to be one of those "Gavin Reed actually isn't as bad of a character as everyone thinks" people so I know the mindset and how easily fanon confuses you, but yes, actually, he is. He is JUST as bad as everyone thinks. PLEASE Do not let fanon alter your perspective of canon Gavin; fanon Gavin is fun, redeemable, and has a personality. Canon Gavin is a racist piece of shit who hates androids and Hank for no reason and is so one dimensional you can practically see the cardboard he was cut from. CANON Gavin is just as bad as everyone thinks he is. FANON Gavin is whatever you want him to be. Thanks.

#dbh #dbh gavin #detroit become human #dbh analysis #gavin reed #I am SO tired of seeing people say he's not that bad. YES HE IS. BUT IN FANON YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH HIM #THAT'S THE POINT. IT'S A PLAYGROUND HAVE FUN. #you can enjoy Gavin all you like but PLEASE stop using the fanon explanations for Gavin's behaviour to excuse canon Gavin

[escaping-thoughts-reviews]

No, Gabriel. “Anything” does NOT go.

#gabe stop trying to excuse your bad behaviour #the road to hell is paved with good intentions #i get it but still #gabriel agreste #miraculous ladybug #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml season 5 #ml spoilers #ml illusion #escaping thoughts

[running-in-the-dark]

today was exhausting - my friend was here for about 7 hours and I just. oh man I love her and all but it's just a lot sometimes. it's probably for the best that we only meet up like 2-4 times a year now (gives me enough time to forget how draining it is so I look forward to it, and recover afterwards)

I don't talk to anyone but my husband most days, and he doesn't really talk. so that's maybe 15 minutes total of talking. and today it was literally. 7 hours. no breaks except when we were eating (but no even then someone was always talking).

first of all ouch, it hurts (my voice is very hoarse now). and also. it's so so so draining. like. we really have nothing in common at this point. but she's my oldest friend and I do love her so it's tolerable... but just barely. these days there's way too much diet/food/weight loss talk, and also she seems to be getting into alternative medicine which I cannot fucking stand (it's one topic where I can't pretend or be nice about it either). lots and lots of very preachy vegan stuff too (I don't have any problems with it, I admire people who can do it, but fuck dude you know I eat meat and that I've said many times that I *can't* go vegan (I would starve. there's not enough foods that would be left. seriously.) and it feels pretty shitty to keep going on about it every damn time. I'm not sitting there trying to convince her that she should really be an atheist or something, because I know what her thoughts are about that and I respect it.

when she hangs out with her other friends a lot it's mostly just talking about all the issues that come from that (they fucking suck). I don't know, it kind of feels like I'm her therapist. when I talk about something I'm interested in she doesn't ask many questions and it kind of sucks. like, dude I don't care about your plants either, but I'm interested because you care, so. maybe try that too. would be nice!

#like I know alllll about her other friends and their shitty behaviour #and just. it's exhausting #it's also exhausting telling her over and over again that she is too nice. yes being nice is good and all but she lets people walk all over #her and afterwards she goes 'oh well I guess it was probably just because [they had a bad day/other thing that happened/I said the wrong #thing]'. I do that too! but it's just EVERYTHING. always. even when someone is CLEARLY being shitty to her. like her shitty friends. she #will still excuse their behaviour #it just makes me sad man. #buuut #like come on maybe let me talk about my stupid tv show for 5 minutes and try to seem a little interested? I know it's irrelevant I know no #one cares but damn you really can't pretend?? I've mentioned it before a couple times on the phone and she's always just vaguely like 'ah #that sounds interesting' WHEN I HAVEN'T EVEN SAID ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT IT'S ABOUT. but she doesn't ask what it's about so. I just stop #talking about it and we change topics. #like. yeah I know it's a bit weird that I'm in my 30s and that is one of the most important things in my life rn but. that's how I am. it's #always been that way. and my other friends care (or at least pretend to because they care about *me*) #so it feels pretty shitty! #like if I can look at 15 pictures of how big her fucking plants and herbs are getting. idk maybe ask one question about my show. #or like. even things like our new apartment and stuff. she listened and everything. but it's just. there's no interest there really. just #live 'oh that's nice :)' and we move on to the next topic again #idk man it makes me a bit sad (and I know it's ironic because I say she needs to acknowledge that people don't treat her well but. I mean I #do know this isn't great. and I limit my communication with her to a level that doesn't feel too exhausting. so. idk I feel like it's #different or whatever. buut really I just don't have many friends and I get lonely and it's better to listen to someone talk about #themselves all the time than not talking at all) #okay I'm gonna shut up now #and anyway I'm just exhausted and it's all very fresh rn and I'm incredibly tired so I'm very grumpy. usually it's really not that bad. #I just needed to vent I guess #okay bye and goodnight and I will stop talking now I swear #personal

[forcedjuggalofication]

narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real narcissistic abuse isn’t real n

#vent/rant in tags #some people are JUST ABUSIVE. #i’m not gonna lie - it hurts so fucking bad to have done so much work all by myself - untreated - unmedicated - no resources - #just guesswork - just to have it not fucking matter because people discard me the SECOND they learn about my #TRAUMA BASED fucking disorder. #it’s not my fault. i was a CHILD. i was a CHILD who should have been cared for - not neglected - isolated - and abused. #i’m sorry that maybe some people take that and repeat the cycle - but everything about that told me that i HAVE to be BETTER - #i CANNOT repeat those same fucking behaviours that wounded me so deeply and ruined my fucking life #IT IS NOT MY FAULT. #and you know fucking what? my biggest abuser had NPD - and i rejected my diagnosis for YEARS. because of terms like narc abuse. #and because people demonized him on the basis of being a narcissist instead of on the basis of being an abuser. #rejecting my diagnosis only hurt me more - and hurt the people around me more. #i am so tired. i’m just a person. i am just a human being. i try so hard - i don’t even want recognition or praise for trying - #i’m just tired of being thrown away - i’m tired of being treated like my abuser just because of my diagnosis #he quite literally tried to murder me - believe me if you want - i don’t care - i was a child and he tried to murder me and i still think #that there is no excuse to demonize NPD just because he has it. #fuck all the way off - go die - i don’t care #none of my friends would ever know i have NPD because i’m not a fucking stereotype - i’m not an evil monster - i don’t want to hurt anyone- #the way i’ve been hurt - i NEED to be the best - i NEED to be as good as possible #stop demonizing my disorder - please - i am begging #screaming into the void #NPD #narc abuse #narcissistic abuse

[celestial-sapphicss]

it's good that i already don't like jim as a guardian so i am not affected by wheather jim being homophobic in the previews is accurate or out of context, i do worry for little li ming though 😭

"but vi he's tryin-" no i have ZERO empathy and understanding for any bad guardian/parent. i don't care if you have trauma, i don't care if you're poor, i don't care about how difficult your like is, i don't care how much you love the kid but struggle to show it.

if you have to take care of a kid, you do so with love and affection and care regardless or your circumstances, which jim is not the best at, which automatically makes me dislike him as a character, no greys, only black & white.

yes you make mistakes as a parent, but you can always make it up to them, and it costs literally nothing to be kind. stop projecting your problems on your children

#vi.txt #sometimes shows hit too close to home and it hurts sksksks #thank you p'aof for depicting how frustrating it is to live in households with overbearing caretakers #yes its very real yes i still hate it #i agree with every argument of jim trying his best given his life age circumstances but those aren't reasons to condone his behaviour #just because its understandable doesn't mean its okay #because all that does is set a very dangerous precedent #there are parents who have gone through hell and a lot worse and still end up being a hundred times better and kinder #jim as a gay man should be protective of li ming because of how cruel the world is #instead of showing that same cruelty in his face in the name protection #you know all these things sound good that jim's intensions are good even if the way he conveys them isn't #but how are we forgetting that there's the mental health of a very real child at stake here who is only going to see the actions #moments like these are the ones that break you destroy you #stop making excuses for bad parenting it only makes it worse for children in abusive households to not feel guilty

[adsevel]

unpopular bleach opinion?

Hi! I answered this as an unpopular opinion about the series as a whole on another blog, so imma do one for rpc here, because I can. 

Unpopular opinion: I as a writer, especially a writer that does indeed create stories around the series villain(s), do not need to change them according to other people's whims and how they perceive it. If you think that someone has to actually 'atone' for a character's sins as the writer and 'water them down' or make them 'more amicable', aka, you push them out from being ic into ooc against their own will because you have a problem with the character and what they did, then that is wrong and you should cease it. 

This is something I've seen a lot. OOC and IC antagonizing villains or morally very grey characters and the mun behind them even in a "fun" way and, lemme tell you, as someone who primarily writes 'mean' or 'villainous streaked' characters, it's not. You are not funny, you are annoying. In the worst case, people will think you have a personal problem with them. And do you really want that?

#☆ [ ooc ] #[ this was something i had in mind for a while so here we are ] #[ gotta add something in the tags: obviously this does not include excusing abhorrent behaviour on the mun's side but for all #that it's worth #don't make people bad for writing villains lmao that's horrible stop it ]

[lockwie]

some of y'all need to stop finding excuses for Izzy

like you can empathise with him that's totally fine

but he is so queerphobic and abusive

#there's zero excuse for going around calling queer men effeminate in a derogatory way just because you're pissed off #there's zero excuse for telling someone who you know is emotionally vulnerable that you'd rather have them be dead than femme #he embodies toxic masculinity #which is tragic and you can feel bad for him #but stop excusing his shitty behaviour #izzy hands

[clovernment]

it's genuinely frightening me how terrible my attitude has become when it comes to studying, like idgaf that i have a huge super important super difficult exam tomorrow in less than 12 hours and i cant be bothered to revise anything because ik so damn bored out of my mind ive tried washing my face walking around a bit, distracting myself for a bit to get back to studying but i cant bring myself to even look at it or even go through the topics in my head

#what is it called when your lack of care is alarming to yourself #i mean i know anxiety and i know the nausea and violent acidity that comes with it #and there is none of it right now #i feel so extremely understimulated i might cry i cant even sleep #and because none of this actually affects my scores in a “big way” no one is going to say i have a problem #which means i am never getting that adhd diagnosis #bc whatever i have clearly isnt impacting my life in a “significant” way #i feel like i need to beat my head against a wall to stir myself into action but im here trying to sleep unsuccessfully #i will have wasted time and ill regret it probably but most of all i hate everything about myself right now #and this sucks in extreme ways because i dont hate the subject i dont hate studying i hate the situation right now i hate exams #i hate that this is my last major exam i have no possible way to improve my performance #i hate that i sound like im making excuses #i hate that im honestly never getting that diagnosis #most of all i hate that im gonna be fumbling tomorrow and something is going to be just out of my minds reach #and if i was on some sort of medication that stopped me from becoming a literal zombie i wouldve studied better and id have remembered #i fucking hate that marks dont really matter to me much especially in my field #i hate the absolute helpless feeling i have right now #and the helplessness i will have in the exam hall tomorrow #it isn't so bad as it was a few years ago but my own behaviour has gotten rotten more and more and i honestly couldn't hate myself anymore

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 5

05 : DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

SUM : It’s been a few weeks and James makes a reappearance in your life, Remus too — they’ve fallen into bad habits. 

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; remus smokes ; drunk james ; reader is sad ; this is a little sad chapter ; fergus is an amazing, lovable manager ; i’m horrible at writing the scottish accent! ; james is an adorable drunk ; james’ car is sexy and red ; remiss has eye bags and smells of cigarette smoke ; uh oh ; it’ll get better soon! 

LENGTH : 2.8k

← PREV. : 04 | DISAPPEAR

You stare in disbelief at the notice that stares back at you mockingly from behind the glass door of the ‘Marauders Tattoo Parlour’. 

‘NOTICE’ it said in bold red sharpie, right above a handwritten message that you recognise as Remus’ neat penmanship, ‘due to personal reasons, Prongs, Padfoot and I (Moony) will be keeping the parlour closed until further notice. We kindly ask that you remain patient as private matters are being sorted through and resolved. We are still open for online and phone consultations to discuss designs and potential future appointments. Kindest Regards, The Marauders’. Beneath the polite and brief explanation of current circumstances was a business email address and phone number as well as working times for phone calls. 

The weeks following your discovery of the boys’ true relationship, you rarely ever passed their parlour. A little over three weeks has passed now and you’ve finally been able to walk past their studio doors close enough to read the notice. You’re frozen in place as dread and worry cultivates shards of sharpened ice to grow within you. Freezing up your senses, freezing up your mind and freezing up limbs. Yet, your heart is racing like never before, your blood pounding against your ears like a drummer gone mad. 

The feeling that settled in your stomach wasn’t a pleasant one, especially when you felt completely responsible for the boys’ sudden hiatus in business. They had often talked to you about how much the parlour meant to them, how it was their best investment and remains their biggest source of opportunity — an opportunity to help people express themselves. It’s a form of freedom that many have been deprived of (themselves included) and they were honoured to now be able to provide that same freedom to others. For them to completely close up shop like this was completely bizarre. 

How long have they been closed for?

You bite your lip and will yourself to move your feet, the ice in your limbs breaking uncomfortably, shattering into a million knives of ice, shooting pins and needles up your arms and legs as if your blood had been frozen up too. As you walk away, you slip your phone back into your pocket, where your hands also remain. 

While contemplating what could have happened to your favourite tattooists and piercer, you made sure to save a picture of their business phone number onto your photos. 

You were never able to call their business number. And you had many excuses lined up to absolve your cowardly behaviour. The main one being that it was their business number, it wasn’t meant to be used for a conversation between friends. Were you even still friends at this point? The thought made you shiver and stole the appetite right from your stomach. It was a greedy little thing cowardice, regret too. They’ve stolen many things from you, your appetite was their favourite thing to purloin, motivation another, happiness as well. Nasty, selfish and greedy thieves. But you weren’t brave enough to confront them and make them stop. And that, alone, makes you their willing accomplice — so who’s really to blame? 

It didn’t help that through this entire ordeal, you’ve realised that none of the boys have exchanged phone numbers with you. To say that you were bitter was an understatement. If they never gave you their number, why would they want you ringing them in the first place? 

…maybe they didn’t have a reason to? You couldn’t remember a single time after the day you first brought them that homemade ‘thank you’ lunch where you hadn’t seen them on a regular basis. And now that you were used to seeing them almost daily, your life has since been bleeding of colour and vibrance. Days are dull and monotonous, it’s hard to motivate yourself to do pretty much anything, let alone your job.

“Yer’ve been sighin’ so much these days, I’m startin’ to see wrinkles forming’ on yer cute lil’ face lass,” Furgus comments, nudging your hip with his own as he passes by you behind the counter. 

Flustered, you scramble to get back to work with a quick apology, evidence of your embarrassment heating up your cheeks as you do so, “I’m so sorry Gus,”

With hearty laugh, the burly Scottish man pats you on the back and whispers some reassuring words, “Yer’ve got nothin’ ta worry about lass, I jus’ wan’ed ta see if you were al’ight is all,”

“I’m okay,” you smile grateful for his care only to be met with suspicious eyes and a deep, bearded frown. 

“Don’t grow a habit o’ lyin’ ta me lass, it won’t do ya any good,” his words make more heat rise to your cheeks but you reassure him as best as you can in between taking orders and serving drinks. It was no use however, Fergus saw you as his own daughter, he knew you like the back of his hand and you know that he had his suspicions of your odd behaviour lately — all derived from a sadness he didn’t like you wearing. Thankfully, he decided to leave you alone with your sorrow and regret and focused back on managing the pub. Tonight was pretty average, you saw the regulars and greeted them with a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes; if any of them noticed, they never said a thing about it to you. Thank god. 

It seemed like it would be another regular night until you caught sight of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye. You had just gotten back from your break when you spot James at a far table, nursing a pint and buried under a sheet of suffocating misery all on his lonesome. 

“James?” you breathed in disbelief with a wide-eyed stare directed right at him. 

“You know that guy?” Bonnie, your coworker, asks in a whisper into your ear and you had no choice but to nod your head in confirmation — you’ve already outed yourself, there was no point in lying, “well he’s been drinkin’ himself to death for the past hour or so, what’s gotten into him? D’ya know?”

“No…” you’re a liar. 

“Well ya be’er find out or else imma have ta kick the poor bastard outta ‘ere,” Fergus comments, his arms folded over his large chest and his brows knitted together in disapproval. 

“May I—…?” you begin to ask softly, sending a curious look towards Fergus who meets your eyes with a small smile and a wink. 

“Consider yerself off fer da night,” with a smile, you thank him and take a breath before making your way over to the miserable tattooist. 

“Angel!” James smiles happily at the sight of you, his drunken state adding an adorable dopiness to his already charming grin, “It’s you~” he coos and wraps his arms around your middle to bury his face into your stomach when you were close enough, “I missed you so much, angel~” he sighs, his voice muffled by your clothes as he refuses to detach himself from you, “even if this is just another dream…” you barely hear him and you almost curse yourself from being able to because his words make your heart drop to your stomach. 

“James,” you ask softly, “can you please get up?” 

“Why?” he shuffles to press his chin into your lower belly and stare up at you with those sweet hazel eyes of his. The sneaky bastard, he knows how weak at the knees you become from his simple stare. You’ve never told him so and often put in the effort to not show it but you know, he knows. 

“Because you need to go home,” he gives an incredulous look at your reasoning and he’s adorable doing so, even in his drunken state. 

“Why would I need to do that when you’re right here?” he slurs and hiccups, your heart pounding erratically at his words.  

“James please—”

“No!”

“James—”

“‘m not going home! I wanna stay here with you,” he presses his face into your stomach again and sobs into your clothes, “you’re gonna disappear again,” he sobs miserably, “I don’t want that…” 

“Please just let me call you a taxi James?” he doesn’t respond, pressing his face further into your stomach as you comb your fingers through his dark hair, you touch gentle and comforting, coaxing him into some compliance, “remind me of your address again and I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”

“NO!” 

You suppress a defeated sigh. 

It takes several minutes of coaxing until you’re finally able to take his phone from him. He refuses to let you call him a taxi and you weren’t going to force him to walk home alone in his drunken state so you’re going to have to do the one thing you can think of that’ll guarantee his safe return home. Not that you’ll enjoy it because it means confrontation. 

“Can you tell me your passcode, please, James?” you ask in a gentle whisper, only to him, “I need to do something very important on your phone,”

With a large smile he recites the digits, “22nd of the 6th, 17,” the way he says it makes your raise a brow. Sensing your curiosity, James answers your silent question, “is the day Moony, Pads and I became official,” he giggles adorably to himself as you smile somewhat sadly — another reminder that you should stay away. You don’t say anything to prompt him further and, instead, type in the code before looking through his contacts. It takes you a moment but you’re eventually pressing call and waiting patiently for Remus to pick up.

“…James?” Remus’ familiar, kind voice speaks tiredly through the phone and you don’t know whether to breath a sigh of relief or worry, “Hello?”

It takes you a moment but you finally will yourself to speak, “Hey, um, Remus?” 

“…Dove?” he’s in complete disbelief and it’s evident in his voice, “Is that really you?”

“uh…yeah,” you chirp sheepishly and Remus is all forms of elated but his excitement dwindles quickly when he realises how you’re able to call him. 

“Why do you have James’ phone?” you were right to call him, knowing that he was preceptive, reasonable and easy to talk to even with the tension in the air. Patiently, you explain the situation, never taking your fingers away from James’ hair as he practically purrs into your form, adoring the physical contact and muttering to himself happily. It’s especially loveable like this, considering that it’s him being dopey and giggly and not anyone else.

“Oh…” Remus sighs, clearly disappointed, “I’m so sorry, darling, I’ll get him right away,” 

“It’s no trouble, Rem,” it was hard not to cringe when the familiar nickname easily rolls off your tongue. As if nothing happened — oh how you wish for such a reality!

“Just tell me where you are and I’ll be right over,” you don’t know if you’re just imagining it but there’s a considerable shift in his voice, he sounds much softer after hearing his nickname easily fall from your lips. 

“We’re at the Boar and Elephant pub on Chapel Road,” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” with a click, he was gone and you were left to keep James satisfied until he got there. It wasn’t an overly tough job; James seemed perfectly content nuzzling into your stomach with his arms hugging you in place as your fingers massage his scalp and gently groom his hair. He’s like a puppy, eager to receive affectionate cuddles and pets. If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it like crazy and you giggle to yourself at the mental image it conjures up. 

“I missed that…” James mutters, maybe to himself but it wasn’t clear.

“I’m sorry?”

“I miss the sound of you giggling,” you don’t know what to say but he continues, going off on a tangent, “it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty. It’s like the sound of a cute little bell ringing…so pretty— pretty pretty pretty!” you can’t lie to yourself, he’s absolutely precious, “I miss you so much angel, why did you go away? I don’t want you away, I want you with me, and with Remus and with Sirius too…” he murmurs something into your stomach that you weren’t able to pick up but don’t press him further on the matter, fearing that your heart might just about burst if you do. You can’t afford to hope for such a fantasy with them when it could never become a reality. 

It just wasn’t possible…

“Not fair!”James whines, making grabby hands at you as Remus, with the force of a gentle giant, manoeuvres him into the back seat of a red Jaguar XJR. Dealing with a defiant baby was a struggle so dealing with a giant, beefy baby like James Potter was like trying to control a hurricane. But Remus had a magic touch and arguably had more of a silver tongue than Sirius did so he made it look like a walk in the park. It was astounding, “I wanna be with my angel!” James sobs as Remus closes the door on him, putting a stop to James’ needy cries. 

“She’s not yours, she’s no one’s,” was Remus’ response even though he had already closed the door, James unable to hear him and the hint of dismay coherent in his tired voice, “thank you for looking after him, Dove, you’re always too kind,”

“N-no, don’t worry about it,” he smiles down at you, silence filling up the space between your two lonely figures under the amber lamplight. He doesn’t seem to mind the hush in conversation but knowing that his eyes were fixed on you was unnerving, “so! Is that your car?” you ask, desperate for a change in conversation; your restless fiddling making your intentions obvious but Remus keeps to himself. 

“No, no, it’s not mine,” he answers with a short chuckle, “this is James’ car,”

“Oh…” you hum to yourself thoughtfully, eyes carefully examining the body and model of the car, “I see,” it looks like a car James would have, you think to yourself. There was more silence until Remus finally brings himself to commence your farewells. 

“Well I suppose I should head off, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” your heart stutters, almost to a stop, at his words, even more so when you see him hesitate upon leaning down. A victim to your own habits, you find yourself closing your eyes and awaiting his gentle kiss goodbye against your temple.

…But it never comes.

“Goodbye then,” he calls over his shoulder, and rounds the car to get to the driver’s seat. 

“—Do you smoke?” you suddenly ask, in some part desperate to extend your interaction with each other and other parts curious of the lingering cigarette smoke you smell on his clothes, masking his usually comforting fragrance. It’s strong enough that you were able to catch it from your formal amount of distance with each other and it struck you as odd. You had never seen him smoke before. 

Remus laughs a brief and strained sound as he looks at you from over the hood of the car, did he always have such deep eye-bags? “Not usually,” he sends you a sheepish smile once you’re finally able to meet his eyes, “but I’ve recently taken to it again,“ he sees worry and grief fill your eyes and hurries to correct himself, ”—But don’t worry, Dove,” his features are gentle and kind, warm and… forgiving, “I’m okay,” 

The world slows as you watch him bend his head to sit in the drivers seat. It’s been too long. For you, at least. This can’t continue. It scares you to think about where this may go if you leave it to late. It’s only been three weeks! If this is the result…you dread to think about what would happen if things went on for longer than that. James is drinking himself to death. Remus is smoking cigarettes. What about Sirius? Your stomach twists uncomfortably, painfully, your heart too. 

“No! You’re not!” you shout, tears of anger welling up in your eyes as Remus stops and looks over at you once again, his breath hitching when he sees your eyes glistening with tears, “you’re not okay…” 

“Dove—”

“I’m coming by tomorrow,” you announce, “at lunch,” this was a commitment you’re making, a commitment to him, to them. Even if you’re heartbroken, that doesn’t give you the right to be a bad friend. You brave a watery smile, “I’ll make your favourites…so you better be there!”

→ NEXT : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES

A/N : i’m so sooo sorry for my depiction of the scottish accent, i really tried my best, please don’t hate me! if you have any ideas of how i could make it better, please say so, i’d really appreciate it. Also, i know that this isn’t completely fluff but we’re getting there, you’ll have to wait and see in the next chapter! 

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

@ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic @zesnuts @enamoredwithbella

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#poly marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus lupin #marauders #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #heroes in tattoos series #marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders #marauders x you #marauders fic

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader

2.6k | fluff, mentions of physical abuse If Simon still had his family (part 2)

Simon Riley just got back to the safe house when he saw it.

Tommy Riley, 2 hours ago, 5 missed calls

It’s mum. Call back.         

His heart thumped as the phone rang. “Mum?” he said as soon as the line connected. ”Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Oh, Simon…” her voice cracked.

His dad had always been an alcoholic ever since he could remember. He and his younger brother Tommy grew up witnessing his antics: stumbling through the door with slurred shouts in the wee hours of the night, often breaking things in the house, taunting them with the exotic animals he brought on occasions, if he even came home at all.

Mrs. Riley turned the other cheek, making excuses for him. As a child, Simon believed her, that people were short sometimes. Because daddy was tired at work, because mummy didn’t cook dinner right, or forgot to buy his favourite beer… Until he grew up and saw the behaviour as what it was.

But she never left, reassuring him his dad would never lay a hand on her. Simon didn’t trust that bastard of a man, but it was her choice to stay and he could only respect that. It was not his decision to make.

At least if he couldn’t bring her the happiness she deserved, he had to do something to distract himself from the hell at home and divert his aggression. That, and he wanted to help make the world a better place. When he left for the military, he firmly warned Tommy to take care of mum and to be there for her if anything was to happen.

Still, Simon spent his adult life painstakingly watching, waiting for the man’s first misstep so he could eliminate that cancer out of everyone’s life once and for all. The day was finally here. His dad had chased his mum about the house with a knife.

“I- I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back. I walked barefoot to Tommy’s,” she said between sobs.

“How long has this-“ He stopped himself. It was not the time. He took a deep breath, his hand in a fist, knuckles white. “You’re catching the next train to Hereford,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll stay at my flat until I’m back and we’ll figure things out. Someone from the base will call and help you out.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, Si. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re never a bother,” he said sternly. “I only go back home on the weekends, just stay there. I need you to be safe, mum. Please.”

In Hereford, on a chilly Tuesday night as you made your way down the hall to your flat, there stood a lady fumbling with the key to her own. On the floor laid bags overflowing with fresh produce. She turned as your footsteps approached.

“Hiya, sweetheart. Terribly sorry, but could you give me a hand please? I can’t seem to get the door.” She was middle aged, greying short hair, soft spoken with a Manchester accent.

 “’Course.” You smiled at her as she moved aside. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The key only turned halfway before stopping.

“I just got here some days ago.”

You grunted before turning it all the way. “There you go.” You pushed the door open.

“Oh, you’re an angel, luv.“ She thrusted a bag of apples towards you. “It’s not much, but here. Please have these as a thanks.”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. It’s nothing really.”

“Please, I insist.” She put her hand on yours. “And it’s Melanie.”

You smiled. “Welcome to the building, Melanie. I’m at the end of the hall if you need me.”

You spent Saturday morning baking, courtesy of Melanie’s delicious gift. Even that you devoured the apples throughout the days, you didn’t want to risk the rest going bad on you – you could only eat so much. As you let the pie cool, you cleaned up before making your way to her flat.

It didn’t take long for the door to open. Your smile fell as you blinked at the man staring down at you. His stature huge, almost filling the doorframe as he stood unmoving.

You cowered, eyes darting away. “Hi, uh, is Melanie in?”

“Melanie?” he repeated, voice gruff and cautious. He leaned his forearm against the frame, appearing even more intimidating than the situation needed him to be. “What does this concern?”

You took a step back. “Just… wanted to give this to her.” You held out the pie towards him.

“Who is it, Si?” a woman from behind him called.

The man stepped aside to reveal the much shorter Melanie.

Her face lit up. “Oh, hello, luv. What a surprise!”

“Thanks for the apples, Melanie. I made you this.” You trudged the pan towards her, shifting your weight.

“Come in, come in. This is my son, Simon.” She turned to the man, patting his arm. “She’s the bird who helped me with the door the other day.”

Still with the sharp stare, he gave you a curt nod before you followed Melanie in, placing the pie on the dining table.

“Lunch is almost ready. Would you care to stay, luv?” She made her way towards the stove and muttered, “I always cook too much.”

You smiled. “I’d love to, sure. It smells lovely.”

You helped set up the table as she finished up the soup and brought it out. Simon got himself a helping and sat across you with Melanie beside the both of you. The blond was a few years older than you, jaw lined with a light stubble, but those brown eyes. They were icy, calculating as he glared at you.

Even that the soup was tasty, you regretted saying yes to it as you ate under his scrutiny. Instead, you averted your gaze to take in the flat. The layout was similar to yours, but quality pieces furnished it instead. The large, dark couch in the corner of the living room looked particularly comfortable, behind it a tall shelf lined with books. It was sparsely decorated, and too tidy to be recently moved into without boxes about.

“Do you know if they’ve got a farmer’s market nearby, luv?”

“I don’t, sorry. I get by going to Tesco.” You gave her a soft laugh. “But I can help you ask around.”

She beamed. “That’d be very nice.”

“I do know a bakery a few blocks away with wonderful loaves though. I always buy there.”

While the both of you chatted about the area, Simon was wordless. In fact, he almost didn’t make a noise at all, but at least he’d stopped staring which allowed you to finally relax your back you didn’t realise had been tense. You thanked her again for lunch, and she promised to return the pie pan as soon as she could.

Later that evening, the knock on the door took you away from your laptop. You expected Melanie, but were instead greeted by Simon. Standing a respectable distance from the doorway, he didn’t look like he was trying to scare you this time even that his gaze was as stony.

“Thanks for the pie. Was mint.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flat tone, taking the pan from him. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He grunted, averting his gaze. “I wanted to thank you, for how nice you’ve been to my mum.” He looked back up at you. “She’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting.”

Your shoulders relaxed. “I understand. It’s not always easy going somewhere new.”

“If you ever need anything, feel free to drop by.” He gave you a half smile before turning away.

The blond Mancunian was the last person you expected at your door on Wednesday night. You’d just taken your coat off as you arrived back from work.

“I got greedy and bought too much takeaway. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

You laughed. “Really? Too much food?”

“I’m not fond of leftovers.” He shrugged, inadvertently emphasising his size.

“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Mon’ then.” He tiled his head towards his flat, his hands now shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie.

“Glad you could join us, luv.” Melanie smiled as she set the table.

“Hard to resist takeaway.” You chuckled as you approached. Takeaway boxes almost covered the entirety of the table. “Wow, this is a whole spread.”

“I said the same thing!”

“What can I say, I’m a hungry man,” he said gruffly behind you.

You turned to him in amusement. He gave you a shrug, but this time his eyes didn’t look as hard. In fact, you thought you saw a whisper of a smile on his lips.

Later that Saturday as you lounged around on the couch, you looked up from your book at the knock on the door. It was once again Simon in his hoodie, his posture impressive as always.

“My mum told me to run to the shops because we’re out of salt. Any chance you’ve got some to spare so I don’t have to?”

“Salt? Of course.” You headed to the kitchen, leaving the door open.

His fingertips brushed against yours as you handed him the ceramic container.

“She’s cooking pasta. Fancy some?” He tilted his head towards his flat.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow.

You gave him an amused smile. “I’m starting to feel like a freeloader.”

“It’s the least we can offer in return of the salt.”

“It’s just salt.”

“We wouldn’t be eating without your salt, if I’m honest.”

The smile remained as you shook your head.

“Come, she’s waiting.”

At the stove, Melanie thanked you for the ‘life-saving’ salt when you should be the one thanking her for her hospitality. By now, you knew where the tableware was and started setting the table, but this time Simon trailed, grabbing glasses and closing the cabinet doors after you.

“It’s brilliant, really,” you said after the first bite of the tomato pasta. “You’re feeding me too well.”  

She smiled proudly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m not a culinary prodigy at all, but please let me return the favour and make the meal next time.”

“Don’t wor-“

“When?” Simon piped up.

“Next weekend sounds good?”

“Can’t do.”

You hummed. “Well, I won’t have enough time to cook anything fancy on weekdays.”

Melanie swatted her hand. “Oh, you really don’t have to, luv.”

“But there’s still tomorrow. How does lunch sound? I’ll do the shopping today.”

“I’ll drive. Need to pick up a few things too.”

You smiled at him and turned to Melanie. “You want to come with?”

She shook her head. “You kids have fun.”

Simon cleaned up while you got ready before leaving in his SUV. In the sun, his eyes were gorgeous glimmers of deep caramel framed by long, blond lashes. He’d pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms – the left one inked.

It flexed as his hand rested atop the steering wheel at the red light. You could see the details from here – skulls and rifles over fire adorned his pale skin. You wondered how far up the monochrome sleeve extended.

He still hadn’t said anything since he picked you up at your door. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was awkward or simply didn’t like to talk. You tried your luck anyway.

“How do you find the building so far?”

“No complaints. Been there over a year.”

“Really? I don’t think I’d seen you before actually.”

“I don’t really live there. Just on the weekends, if any.”

“Didn’t Melanie say she just got here weeks ago?”

“She’s visiting.” He turned to you. “I meant it when I said she likes your company.”

You smiled. “She’s real sweet. I hope she enjoys her stay.”

When you arrived, he beat you to the basket at the entrance.

“I’ll get it. On you, luv.”

You got called ‘luv’ all the time, but the way he said it made you look away. You couldn’t ignore the tickle that ran down your spine.

On the way to the produce section, the offer sign caught your eye as you passed the biscuit aisle. You reached for the goldfish crackers you hadn’t had in a while.

“Two goldfish are in a tank…” he started behind you.

You turned to him, a brow raised.

“One looks at the other and says ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”

Nothing prepared you for a joke from him, the brooding man in oversized hoodies who barely spoke. You cackled embarrassingly loud in the empty aisle. It was your first time seeing him actually smile. He had pretty teeth, and his eyes finally thawed, crinkles by them.

“That’s a good one,” you said after your laughter died down, chucking a bag into the basket.

The ghost of a smile remained on his lips as he looked ahead. You took it as a cue to move along. He stood behind you as you moved about and picked ingredients, telling you the reason he couldn’t do next weekend was because he was in the military and would be gone on a mission. You didn’t know it, but his gaze lingered on you the whole time.

Before long, you were ready to check out, grabbing a box of English Breakfast tea on your way there. In the queue, Simon stood a touch closer behind you than he needed to, his arm splayed on the railing next to you. You didn’t make a move against it. Instead you tried to make out the rest of his tattoo, but the way his veins budged under the ink from holding the basket distracted you.

It occurred to you people had joined the line when you heard giggles behind the wall of Simon. You couldn’t help tuning into the rather loud conversation. One of the girls was dared to skydive after losing a round of beer pong, and the instructor was “so fucking hot summer came back to Birmingham”. She very much looked forward to their date the following week.

You bit back a smile. You were oddly proud of the stranger. You go, girl.

Simon tapped your shoulder and leaned into your ear. “Why don’t blind guys skydive?”

You only managed to turn a fraction before coming face to face with him. Your breath hitched, not expecting the proximity.

“Because it scares the shit out of their dogs.”

Your laughter boomed before you slapped a hand over your mouth and turning to him fully. His warm eyes returned with his smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself.

The eye contact remained a touch longer, only broken by the cashier calling for the next customer. You whipped towards the lady, gaze cast down as Simon hoisted the basket onto the counter.

He didn’t give you a chance to pay as he already had his phone ready at the receiver, shrugging off your protests. You didn’t mention the fact that he didn’t even pick up anything for himself.

It wasn’t a lot, but Simon carried all the shopping up to your flat. You gathered the bags from him after you opened the door.

You pulled a box of salt from one of them. “Here’s for your mum.”

He quickly took it and looked away.

“Thanks again for the ride. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

He nodded, but stood unmoving. His boots only thudded away when you’ve locked the door.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

#call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #neighbor!ghost #call of duty fluff #cod fluff #call of duty x you #cod x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #telat sebulan lol

[cameronspecial]

good morning, good afternoon or good night depending on the time you see this . Excuse my English, I'm using the translator.I wanted to ask for an imagine about dad Rafe, where his son (Theo/Luca or whatever name you prefer) besides being jealous of his mother (not letting Rafe give him kisses, pushing him so they don't hug, etc.) at his young age He starts calling Rafe "Rafe" instead of "Papa", I think it would be a nice imagine

Oedipus Rex

Pairing: Dad! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Jealous Rafe.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: This is a great idea and don't worry, your English is great!

Masterlist

Theo is the love and entire world of Rafe’s life, along with Y/N of course. However, right now, all Rafe wants to do is force his son to stay in his room. Not because his son is being bad, but because Rafe is jealous of the child. Y/N’s eyes are on the TV while Theo is snuggled under her arm. For the past three minutes, Rafe has been trying to sit on her other side so he can watch with her, but every time he steps closer, Theo’s eyes narrow at his dad. Deciding to ignore his son’s judgment, he plops down beside his wife and leans over to kiss her. Theo has other plans though, leaving Rafe’s lips to fall on his hand. Rafe’s eyebrows knot together and he groans, sitting back up to continue watching. 

———

Y/N has just returned home from work and Rafe goes to greet her. Before he can kiss his wife, tiny footsteps patter past him and Theo throws himself into his mom’s arms. She leans down to pick him up in her arms. Theo peppers his mom's cheek with kisses. The boy pulls back and Rafe goes in to try to kiss his wife; however, Theo’s tiny hand places itself on his dad’s shoulder and pushes him away. “No, my mommy,” he protests, wrapping his arms around his mom’s neck. Rafe looks to her for back up and she only shrugs, “I think he is probably just hangry. Why don’t we get him something to eat?” “Okay. I just think it is unfair that he gets all of your cuddles,” he grumbles, following his family to the kitchen. 

———

Rafe has to set his foot down at some point and it is definitely going to be now. When he got out of the bathroom after he finished getting ready from bed, he found Theo in bed with his wife. His son is pressed up against Y/N, cuddling at her side. “I thought he was supposed to be sleeping in his own room now. He’s six. That’s old enough to be sleeping by himself,” Rafe complains. He gets into bed and tries to bring his wife to his side, yet Theo stops him. “No, Rafe. I can only cuddle Mommy.” Hearing his son say his legal name crosses his line. “My name is Papa to you, Theo. I’m your dad, not your friend,” he criticizes, crossing his arms over his chest. Theo ignores his father and falls asleep instead. Once he is sure his son is sleeping, Rafe leans over to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “I don’t like how possessive he is of you.” She giggles with a shake of her head, her fingers lacing through Theo’s hair. “I can think of two reasons why he is acting like this. One. He is going through the phallic stage of Freud’s psychosexual stages, which means he is experiencing the Oedipus complex. He sees you as a threat and wants to replace you. But I think that one is creepy, so my favourite is number two. He is just modelling your possessive behaviour. I told you it was going to bite you in the ass one day,” she rattles off, reminding Rafe of the fact that she has a doctorate in psychology. Annoyance flashes on his face, “Ugh, why does my amazing wife have to be so smart? You did tell me so and I didn’t listen to you, so I’m sorry. If I had known I was teaching him to be a little asshole, then I would’ve listened to you.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “You didn’t just call our son an asshole,��� she baffles. Rafe shrugs, “Act like an asshole, get called an asshole. It’s okay though. I’m going to stop being possessive and he’ll stop acting like an asshole. I promise.” She rolls her eyes. “I highly doubt that is going to happen, but whatever you say,” she says, turning to turn the lights off. Rafe copies her actions and lies against his pillow. “Goodnight, I love you,” he bids her. “I love you too, goodnight.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

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[weirdrandomtina]

Poppy character development appreciation post!

In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.

When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)

"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.

Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"

In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"

When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.

When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.

At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.

Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.

The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!

BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.

Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:

#queen poppy #trolls band together #broppy #character development #trolls 3 #trolls poppy #dreamworks trolls #appreciation post