#and hell. who's to say this didn't happen before

[kashverse]

Imagine someone making mama reader cry and minisukuna is just roasting who man her cry’s ass, while sukuna is trying to hold back from murder

i didn't wanna make the mamakuna's reading this cry, so have a bit of banter instead. i hope this is what you were requesting for!

rule number 1 in a sukuna family barbecue is to kiss the cook—aka mamakuna, aka you.

rule number 1.2? only babykuna and sukuna can kiss the chef. no exceptions.

but the most important rule—the one etched in stone, the one more sacred than sukuna’s secret steak rub recipe—is rule number 2:

never. insult. the cook.

so when yuki, choso’s plus one, decides to run her mouth at the absolute wrong time, saying, “not gonna lie, this chicken is kinda dry,” there is an immediate, deafening silence. choso, sitting next to her, freezes mid-bite, eyes darting around like he’s witnessing a live execution. nanami takes a slow sip of his beer, very wisely deciding he wants no part in whatever is about to happen. gojo, ever the shit-stirrer, grins and leans in. “oh-ho-ho, you done fucked up.” meanwhile, you? you just blink.

"oh?"

it’s just one word, but it’s enough to send chills down the spines of everyone within earshot. sukuna, who had been manning the grill (read: standing around looking important while you did all the real work), slowly sets down the tongs.

his jaw twitches. his veins pop. he looks two seconds away from committing murder.

"who made the food, yuki?" he asks, voice dangerously calm. yuki, still blissfully unaware of the shitstorm she’s just walked into, shrugs. "i dunno, the caterer?"

sukuna exhales through his nose, like he’s actively trying to keep his soul from leaving his body.

"your caterer is literally sitting right there," choso hisses under his breath, eyes darting to you. yuki, now finally putting two and two together, has the audacity to look sheepish. "oh. uhh…"

but before she can say anything else—

"DODOHEAD!!"

everyone turns to look at babykuna, who is fuming, tiny fists clenched, eyes ablaze with unwavering rage. "how dare you," she huffs, looking as offended as if yuki had personally spit on a framed picture of you.

"i—it’s not that deep—"

“SHAME ON YOU, POOPIEHEAD!!” babykuna stomps her foot, dramatically clutching her heart like she’s a widow in a soap opera. "mama’s food is the best in the whole world!"

"i didn't mean—"

"take it back!" babykuna demands. yuki blinks, caught between disbelief and fear.

"uh…?"

"TAKE. IT. BACK."

babykuna’s arm lifts. her grip tightens around the precious stuffed labubu in her hand. and before anyone can stop her—

"oh, hell no," sukuna mutters, finally snapping.

"you listen here, you ungrateful shit—"

"okay!" choso interjects, physically holding his brother back before this barbecue turns into a crime scene. 

"yuki," he hisses, “apologize before you get us both killed.” yuki, now 100% convinced she is not leaving this barbecue alive, raises her hands.

"okay, okay! i’m sorry!"

"say it like you mean it!" babykuna shouts, labubu still armed and ready.

"i mean it!!"

yuki, now sweating bullets, looks at you.

"your food is great. i love it. i’m sorry."

babykuna narrows her suspicious little eyes.

"hmph."

after ten long seconds of dramatic silence, she finally lowers labubu.

"...i forgive you."

yuki exhales in relief.

"but don’t do it again, dodohead!"

sukuna grumbles under his breath, still looking like he wants to throw hands. but then you, grinning, lean over and kiss his cheek. "down, boy," you tease. "i don’t need you getting blood on my good plates."

he grunts. “whatever.” but he still sends a glare yuki’s way.

“next time, i will let babykuna throw the labubu.”

[redladydeath]

@storm-ismyusername

“You know, Sarah was frozen at an age when kids are still putting stuff in their mouths. She was a very well-mannered child on Earth, but things will always slip through the cracks. Mental image of Vox desperately trying to keep her from sucking on dirty things in their shitty little apartment.” Now I’m imagining Single Dad Vox trying to deal with the kids' new Sinner abilities. For example: Fineas getting things stuck to his head and Vox has to figure out how to unstick them. (Wait-! What Ondine somehow got stuck to Fineas’ head (maybe they were play-fighting? Oh the joys of raising demon children as a single father~)

Sdfghfdfghjk, you'd think keeping the two of them locked inside a single room apartment all day would keep them out of trouble, but alas, life finds a way. The kids both have claws and probably scratch the shit out of everything in the apartment, but that's a problem Vox has too.

Even in the "main" verse though, there was definitely one occasion back in the 70s when Vox walked in on Ondine desperately trying to pull a hat off of Fineas's head, stress crying about how it won't come off. Figuring out how your new demon anatomy works is fun.

What would happen if Vox’s parents met Vox in the kid Ondine and Fineas scenarios? What if Vox’s parents found kid Ondine and Fineas before Vox?

Sort of a repeat of Vox's own childhood, just with kids who didn't grow up in a theater and have no interest in performing. Not sure what the timeline on this would be, but let's say Thalia and Buskin had been in Hell for a year or two before the kids arrived and had already carved out a place for themselves in Pride's theatrical scene. When they happen upon the kids, of course they take them in– family sticks together, after all!– but they expect them to contribute, just as they did with their father.

Tommy and Sarah are now in the totally-fun-and-not-exhausting-at-all position of rapidly having to learn how to sing, dance, and act at a professional level when the only experience either of them had with performing before this was their church's Nativity plays. It especially sucks because not all the pressure is coming from their grandparents; the leader of the troupe they belong to doesn't allow freeloaders (even if they're literal children) and Thalia and Buskin don't have anywhere else to send the kids if their boss wants them off the premises.

Sarah turns out to be the better performer than Tommy (obviously), even though she starts off with intense stage fright. Tom is stiff and awkward and very clearly doesn't want to be there, but the natural charisma he inherited from his father plus the charm of a brother-sister act carries him through it. It's all very Gypsy. The kids are miserable, but their grandparents feel like they won the lottery: not one but two adorable children who will never grow up and can never get permanently injured!

The kids can't say they're all that heartbroken when their dad suddenly shows up out of nowhere, murders their grandparents, and takes them to go live somewhere where they don't have to work. Sarah might ask if she can act in Vox's shows later on though.

Also, side note, but this could be a possible route for that one Proto Vox scenario where he finds out the kids are in Hell, but doesn't want to let his overlord know about them/let the kids see his new body. If he'd somehow run into his parents at some point and they didn't annoy Lantana into killing them, he might have to make the tough decision to send them a message asking them to go take the kids off the street, knowing full well that they're going to put them through exactly the same thing he went through as a child. Again, Thalia and Buskin feel like they lucked out– Vaughn may be tied up with some overlord at the moment, but at least they get his kids!

What if Helen found them both instead? I can see this leading into a few pathways: A-Vox who isn’t an Overlord yet finding out (co-parenting in this situation sounds like a NIGHTMARE) B-If Overlord Vox found out about this would he kill Helen and stuff the kids into a fish tank? C-Vox finding out just as he’s gaining power and is still friends with Alastor.

Option B is the most likely (and the circumstances I originally imagined the fish tank scenario happening under). Options A and C are entirely contingent on how much Vox care about the kids' opinion of him. If he does care, then he has to suffer through an incredibly awkward shared custody/child support situation. If he doesn't, then it's uxoricide time. Maybe he can meet in the middle and just put out a hit on Helen and pretend to the kids he had nothing to do with it– Hell's a dangerous place, after all!

New theory: Vox and Alastor "broke up" because Alastor didn't like how Vox handled his baby mama drama.

@storm-ismyusername

Okay, so, the "Vox's kids die as children AU." I came up with the image of Vox keeping his kids in a fish tank first, but upon further reflection, I've realized that it doesn't really line up with the timeline I've established.

Vox's children were 7 and 10 when he died (1957)

Vox worked under an overlord for 3 years after his death before he broke free, started his own business, and met Alastor (1960)

He and Alastor were friends for 6 years until they fell out (1966)

Vox gained official overlord status 2 years later (1968). By the time Vox had the resources for the fish tank plan, his kids would've been 18 and 21.

The only window of time where Thomas and Sarah can die and still be children is 1957-1961, so it would have to happen when Vox was still in the employ of his overlord. I actually think the idea of struggling single dad Vox is really charming, so let's go with that.

With that background, I'm not sure if Vox would feel the need to do the fish tank thing since they went 15 years with nothing going wrong. Maybe it exists, but Sarah and Thomas aren't confined to it 24/7. Everyone already knows they exist, so they're allowed to move around the tower as they please (they are absolutely not allowed to go outside, though).

Okay, with that out of the way, onto the responses. Gonna answer this in parts: this one is the pre-canon stuff, the next will be the canon stuff, and the third will be RAM stuff.

Ondine & Fineas where they die as kids: How does child Sarah and Thomas react to: 1-Dying 2-Going to Hell 3-Reuniting with your dead Dad (who now has a TV for a head) Would any of their Sinner features be different? Is it weird I can see Vox being more fatherly to Sarah and Thomas than he was in his human life? So when Sarah & Thomas die as kids does Vox find them before or after his big fight with Alastor? If before, what would Alastor make of the situation?  How long does Sarah and Thomas fend for themselves in Hell? A few days, a few weeks, a month, a year?  Did someone find the first? Did Vox only learn his kids were in Hell when someone was using them as blackmail against him? Did Sarah and Thomas watch as their father brutally murder their kidnapper in front of them?  Maybe another Overlord (like Carmilla, Zestial, or Rosie) found them and gave them to Vox because they felt threatening children was beneath them and drew the line at hurting kids. Wait what if Alastor found them first? What would he do with them if he did?

Okay, so Sarah and Thomas die somewhere between 1958 and 1959. They still drowned, maintaining their aquatic theming, but I'm not sure how exactly– could've been from their mother driving under the influence and crashing the car through a bridge's guardrails, could've been just regular drowning at the beach or something. Their mother survives, so they land in Hell alone (I have no idea what an 8~9 and 11~12-year-old could've done to get sent to Hell, but let's just move on).

Not sure how Vox finds them. In the main AU, they found him by recognizing his voice in an advertisement and seeking him out, but at this point, Vox is just some random nobody. Let's just assume he got extremely lucky and happened to come across them 1-30 days after they first arrived but before anyone else thought to scoop them up. Vox is horrified that they're dead and in Hell and privately swears to permakill his wife for letting this happen if he ever sees her again. He brings them back to his shitty little apartment and starts trying to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to care for children in Hell.

Despite the circumstances, Vox is actually a better father in Hell than he was on Earth. He has nothing to his name other than a shitty errand boy job, a tiny apartment, and his two small children, who he thought he'd never see again. While the stress of having to provide for them is a beast, losing everything sort of forced him to get his priorities in order. They become far more tight-knit than when they were alive, as Vox is forced to spend more time with them and get creative when it comes to meeting their needs.

It's all quite the adjustment for Thomas and Sarah. Dying and trying to survive on the streets was as traumatizing as you'd expect. Reuniting with your dead dad and having to adjust to living in poverty is also a lot to take in. Every day, they're stuck in a one-room apartment with gunshots constantly going off outside and explicit instructions from their father to be as quiet as possible and not open the door for anyone��� very different from the upper-middle-class suburbanite life they were used to. Eventually, their dad will come home with cheap food, they'll spend time together for a while, and then they all curl up together in their singular bed and try to sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a comfortable life, but it's definitely more intimate than how things used to be. Thomas starts letting go of some of his resentment of Vox since he can tell he's actually trying now, and Sarah's view of him as A Good Dad, Actually solidifies.

Eventually, Vox secretly kills his overlord, starts his first business, and is taken under Alastor's wing. Things become more comfortable for the three of them, and Alastor becomes something akin to a weird, kind of fun uncle to the kids. Things are looking up for the family as Vox starts to build power and wealth. It's horrifying for the kids when Vox comes home one night without a head and swears revenge on Alastor, but that incident only adds to Vox's upward momentum. After ten years of struggling in Hell, Thomas and Sarah (or rather, Fineas and Ondine) find themselves back in the lap of luxury as their father claims the title of the Overlord of Television.

[starzgaze]

📖₊✧ 🖋 “ TANGA TANGAHAN “—s.jw/filo!reader

shit ass snippet: "gago?? who did you try copying off again?" ".... the exchange student" "BUANG KA B—"

your friend let out an exasperated sigh as you gave her a sheepish smile, scratching your cheek awkwardly. cheating wasn't something you do usually but you were pretty desperate to pass the math exam but 'luckily' you sat beside the korean exchange student! you heard koreans are generally smarter in math so you thought you were passing the exam until you saw his paper and realized a few copied answers in that... he was also copying off you.

a/n: special thanks to park for helping me in this idk if I added the cleaned up version but I gave up reading this

oh my god. you didn't study for the exam today.

with you clutching the straps of your bag, you anxiously entered the classroom and saw many students cramming for today's exam. some of your friends were scribbling on the board practice equations while the other kids reviewed their papers over and over again and the remaining half just accepted faith and slept until the exam started.

you walked over to your desk and placed your bag beneath it, sighing in defeat as you probably accepted the fact you're gonna see a line of 7 in your card for the quarter. maybe playing games the whole night instead of studying the bazillion ways of solving for x was extremely stupid on your part.

but you were hopeful that perhaps your stock knowledge will save you. (for the sake of your grades and sanity to avoid a beating)

"[y.name]!!!"

a voice called over for you suddenly which prompted you to turn to the owner of the voice. it was one of your friends who looked extremely drained. your eyes widened at the sight.

"jesus christ. the hell happened with you? napaka haggard mo 'teh" you joked as you pointed out your friend's unbrushed hair and disheveled appearance. She pouted before she softly punched your shoulder with the rolled up paper she was holding.

"oh zip your mouth! anyway, did you study for the math exam?"

your friend went for the throat as she didn't bothered starting up small talk, time was ticking, every second that passed means the start of the exam will begin shortly soon.

the question made you pause a bit before you sloooowly moving your head over to your friend as an awkward smile forced it's way on to your face.

"haha... no"

her dropped as she blankly blinked at you for a good 2 minutes before shaking her head vigorously and shoving her face into her hands, groaning probably in despair.

"GOODDD.. who am i supposed to ask now how to solve these things?! or even cheat off..."

you shrugged as you looked over to your seatmate,

the exchange student.

you can't really tell but he seemed pretty confident about the exam with how 'relaxed' he is, maybe your friend can ask him instead of you.

your friend followed your gaze that lingered on the exchange student which made her look over her shoulder for a moment before smirking. completely misunderstanding the situation.

"hala, may crush ka?"

"ha? gago, anong crush? I'm just thinking that you should probably ask jinwoo over there instead of me about the math equations" you retorted back which was only received with your friend pouting as she playfully wiggled her brows, occasionally nudging you along with it. a sigh left your lips.

before your friend could further tease you about it, your proctor entered the room, signalling the whole room to pack their reviewers in their bags and bring it to the front of the classroom.

you sat on your chair, fiddling with your pen as your proctor started to explain the flow of the exam. you didn't pay attention to the instructor since you probably memorized whatever the hell he was about to say but your eyes wandered over to your seatmate once again, sung jinwoo.

he was one of the korean exchange students from your school's exchange program, his luck is horrible for how the exchange program timed perfectly with the quarterly exams so now he has to go through this too.

but anyway, the more you drown out your proctor's voice out of your mind you can't help but stare longer at jinwoo. it's not the fact that maybe he's a bit handsome and is basically eye candy to you but it was the fact you could see an extremely tiny wisp of black off him that is almost reminiscent to a shadow. that sounds crazy to you.

jinwoo immediately notices this though which ended with him returning the gaze, making you jolt in your seat as you swiftly looked away. acting like you didn't stared him down moments ago.

oh man if you could only see the small smirk on his face.

　　　　　✎ᝰ

oh my god². it's been 43 questions in the exam and you still haven't confidently answered anything, more than 40 questions that you answered swiftly was basically you playing eenie miney moe or pulling formulas out of your asshole as you prayed to your patron saint of your school and Jesus that the number you guesstimated was correct. you're at the point that you're counting the 'probably' correct answered questions to guess your score, you were aiming for passing barely.

but you knew you couldn't rely on that, you knew that out of all people that if you don't answer something here that isn't you half assing it you're gonna repeat a subject definitely from how bad this exam is gonna put a dent in your grade.

until an idea crossed your mind!

a very academically horrible idea but it was better than nothing.

you ever so slightly moved your head to the side, glancing over to jinwoo and noticing that he was almost done (isn't he going way too fast?!). a random, possibly, stereotypical fact popped in your head that how most koreans are smarter in math which justified the reason why jinwoo finished his exam so fast in math, maybe it's the fact he was korean.

craning over your neck to his desk a bit more, carefully glancing over to your proctor and your classmates making sure that no one was looking. you squinted your eyes as you tried to make sense of his answers and copied it down on your own paper.

a few minutes of you repeating this until you answered the last question, placing your pen down as you huffed quietly in victory. you were pretty confident ok whatever you wrote was accurate on whatever the hell your seatmate wrote but it was better than leaving it blank.

you glanced over to the clock and noticed you had a few more minutes to spare so you checked through your previous answers and even tried comparing it from your seatmate who was now seemingly muttering to himself while swatting his shoulder like he was dusting off something. the hell?....

you ignored it, chalking it up to the old idea that geniuses were weirdoes in their own ways that's why they were smart in the first place. you wouldn't understand because you weren't one.

anyway the moment you started comparing your answers to his paper you thought that maybe most of your answers were correct! until you took more time reading in between the lines and comoared again for good measure. then the realization hits you.

your answer here was an a. his was an a also

it's also d. here and his was a d too..?

the more you skimmed through, even the previous calculations that you made up before you bothered copying off him was also matching the ones on his paper. what the hell was going on?!

...

wait, was he also copying off yo—

RRRRRRIIIINNGG!!!!!!!!!

the timer went off as the realization finally dawned on you, you need to change your answers asap or else you'll be called after class along with this dumbass too!

"okay class, hand over your paper to the person in front of you and then to the people in front please pass it to the middle" your instructor instructed as you panicked. you're not even sure if you can even do last minute changes as you can hear the person behind you wagging their paper behind you was starting to get annoyed that you weren't grabbing their paper.

"hoy! [y.name] kunin mo naman ang papel ko. tapos na ang exam bala, wag mo nailisan ang mga sabat mo" your classmate complained as you groaned in frustration and took the papers behind you and stacked it properly again then passing it to the person in front of you, internally crying over the fact that you just copied off someone who was also copying off you

'why the hell was he even copying off me?! isn't he supposed to be more smarter because he's korea— oh wait that's stereotypical... wait... oh my god. I'm so stupid. why did i assume he was good in math'

you dropped your head on to the desk, a pretty loud thud emanating from your area which earned a few stares from your classmates and your seatmate.

　　　　　✎ᝰ

jinwoo was happy that through his track and field practices and astounding performance in athletics that he managed to snag a spot in the exchange student program, especially to the country where [y.name] was originally in.

in a previous time, he could recall that [y.name] studied in their homecountry for highschool and college but went to korea for higher education. it was one of the things he learned about them early in their relationship in his past life but that was in the past. In the new one, jinwoo was way too impatient to wait for his 20s to meet [y.name]. he needed to see them asap.

so this exchange program was a great opportunity! but the timing was awful. the moment he got in the school in the new country, he unfortunately couldn't get [y.name] as his host home but another family but it was fine since he somehow got in the same section as them. (even if it wasn't, he could just easily ask his advisor if he could switch sections). there was another unfortunate factor though, it was exams season in the school here.

academics wasn't his strongest factor let's say... jinwoo would rather be the brawn than the brains if he had the choice when it comes to academics, which was mainly why he got a scholarship through track and field in his school. thinking is something he would rather do later than now.

which is why when people around him in the new school he stepped foot in started to whisper that he was probably smart, especially in math, baffled him a bit. what gave them the impression that he was remotely any good in mathematics or science? was it because he's an exchange student or was it because of the cool aura he exudes? he couldn't understand it but he can't seem to prove the rumors wrong whenever he recites pretty well in the classes.

well it doesn't matter because the luck he has to land in [y.name] section was worth it because maybe in their eyes, they see him smart.

[pricegouge]

Also for the apocalypse if you’re still in the mood … Nik and his dochka who didn’t have a particularly healthy normal relationship to begin with, and toss in either a contagious infection or mutation-causing radiation, maybe some sex pollen type vibes. Nikolai locking his sweet girl up in her room after he’s exposed— needs to protect you from him— and he’s getting all of these sick urges… but he’s a strong man with an iron will, so he’ll be fine. You can stay in here until… until this wears off. Until there’s a cure.

His will may be iron when it comes to denying himself his own desires, but when it comes to you? It’s paper thin. He can only stand to hear your crying and pawing at the door for so long. You’re used to so much affection from him, he’s all you have left in a world that’s ending, you’re used to being able to crawl into his bed to sleep if you need to. You just can’t handle feeling so lonely, even if it’s what papochka says needs to happen to keep you safe. It hurts too much to be without him, you tell him as much, chipping away at his resolve. Not to mention the sweet scent coming from your door, like a siren call…

-🦷

I've said it before and I'll say it again. whatever the hell the opposite of dacryphilia is will always get me

cw: incest, obviously. grooming implied. dubcon due to consent being pretty meaningless but aside from that everyone is very happy to be here. i ended up adding a dash of religious guilt just cause i thought it added to reader's innocence. unedited and idek if it's hot to anyone else but like. gotta jump back on that smut writing horse sometime.

the worst part is, you want to be strong for him but you just can't seem to manage it. you know he's in pain, that he's scared for your safety. you want to be good, like he asked. because you're always good for him. but everything's been so hard ever since...

well, ever since.

(you don't like thinking about it, the incident. that first encounter, on the train, when papa had had to bloody his fist on a man's jaw because he'd gotten to close to you.)

they said it affected one's inhibition. made angry men violent, and lustful men like that one on the train... physical. in the streets, people had been reduced to animal instinct, but papa was not a sinful man so you didn't understand when he'd locked you away in your room, offering no real explanation beyond a general need to keep you safe.

yet there was no safer place than by his side, especially not when you spend every waking minute scared, jumping at shadows as the ghost of the man on the train haunts you late into the night. you'd tried to keep your cries muffled, but it was hard to do so in your sleep. twice now you've woken up to the sound of your father just outside the door, thumping his head against it as he tries to keep himself in check. keep himself away from you.

it only brings you more tears, fear and loneliness mixing until you can't even pry yourself away from the door, scratching at it like an abandoned puppy as you cry for the man who has always made things better, who's never once denied you anything until now.

he gives when you ask if it's the virus making him this way, if he's always wished to keep you locked away from him. "you're like that man, aren't you?" you sniffle, heaped next to the door one evening with your cheek pressed up against it, listening to him pacing on the other side. "acting on impulse. only, you don't want me." your voice creaks, fresh sobs building, but it's drowned out by the squeal of the hinges, the door falling away from you as it's ripped back, spilling you out into the hall where's papa's crouched to catch you, free hand heavy as he stokes it over your brow, down your cheek. with his forehead pressed to yours, he murmurs something about how stupid you are and then kisses you soundly before you can even get yourself worked up about the insult.

apologies follow, murmured against your skin in between the kisses he peppers across your face. he's sorry for locking you away, for ignoring your cries. he's sorry he left you all alone when he knows how scared you are. he's even sorry for calling you stupid, a notion that would make you giggle if not for the way his stubble scratches your skin, makes you arch into him, seeking more. he's overgrown, hasn't shaved properly in days. you wonder if that's due to a general lack of care brought about by the virus, or because supplies are going limited.

but it's hard to care about such things he's pressed against you so insistently, blocking out all other thoughts with a physicality you're unused to from him. papa has never been distant by any means (in fact the two of you have always had the close sort of relationship that's made your friends jealous. snide little comments and meant to drive a wedge between you. papa had never let you listen, assured you that your friends were simply misguided because their own fathers were no good.) but this feels different. his kisses have never lingered like this before, never been pressed into the crook of your neck, humid breath lingering on your skin as he breathes deep your scent. neither have you ever felt -. he's never been -.

"i'm sorry, milaya," he says again, aimless, like he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for anymore. generally, maybe.

there's no need for it, regardless. you hold his face between your palms and tell him it's okay and he caves, again, sinking against you with his lips sealed to yours until your knees buckle and he guides you to the bed. he keeps apologizing but you don't want to hear it, not when he's making you feel so good, so you distract him with more kisses, keep his lips busy another way. distantly, you know it's wrong, but what can it matter when the word's burning outside your window? when he's burning here and now, between your thighs, desperate for a relief only you can give him?

he promises to at least make it good, makes a sound like you've gut punched him when you say you know he will. he gets your skirt up first, lets you bunch it between your teeth when he draws embarrassing sounds from your lips, his own moving against your pussy with the same kind of ardor he'd shown your neck - desperate huffs and gentle, lingering kisses. it's… a lot, but not enough. makes you whine and squirm but doesn't make you mindless the way you'd thought it would, not until he groans in pleasure and digs himself deeper, panting against you with his nose pressed to your clit as he works you open on his tongue. he lets you get used to it, lets your pleasure build as much as it will, like this, dissatisfied and empty. he only moves when you're begging, fingers sunk into his hair as you try to pull him closer, deeper, anywhere -

of course he knows what you need. resurfaces with a deep, shuddering breath which he filters through the hair on your mound. his finger finds your hole as he mouths at you absently, too busy watching your reaction with heavy-lidded eyes. you take the first finger easily enough, cunt soaked with all his efforts. he gives you time to adjust anyway, digit gently probing against your front wall as he fucks it in and out of you minutely. it's better, but still not what you need, and he chuckles against your skin when you pout at him, trying to work your hips up despite the oppressive weight he's got leaned onto you.

"patience, dochka," he warns, no real heat. but it seems he's done denying you anything because his second finger lines up with the first even before he's finished speaking, blunt tip rubbing against your fluttering lips until they give, slight burn soothed by the way his first finger keeps rubbing against you. still, your father is a big man and it's a big stretch, forces a tiny gasp from you even as you try to breathe around it. and papa's at his limit for how much pain he can cause you.

his lips find your clit before you can even process the sting, long hot stripes that have you melting, legs falling away from him like a flower in bloom. he muscles impossibly closer in their absence, broad shoulders carving space for himself in the cradle of you. his free hand snakes over your hips, keeps you pressed against the mattress with enough force you couldn't squirm away even if you wanted. it's oppressive, being surrounded by him like this - even if you're not, not really, left lonely and open and embarrassed on your top half. it's good though, at least it is when you hide your face away and focus on papa's steady tongue, let him work you up until you don't feel the pain anymore, two fingers pumping into you with ease. you drift where he takes you, at his mercy as he reels you in and out of pleasure, distracted enough that you barely even register when he repeats the process with a third finger until his knuckles are bullying past your gate, earning another whine.

"i know, malýshka," he growls against your clit. "just a little more, hm? are you gonna be good for papochka?"

you're always good for him, nodding along before you can even fully register what he's asking. but that's okay because he makes it easy, sitting back enough that he can spit on your cunt, voice a low rumble of his native tongue as he watches you flinch at the sudden insult, hole clenching tight around his fingers before letting them ease oh so gently in, freshly lubed with his spit.

it gets easier after that, stretched so wide around his digits he can't miss any inch of you, scissoring you open with fingers that drag against all your most sensitive points. he doesn't go back to licking you yet, is too entranced by the way your mouth gapes, open and honest as he forces little whines from you, a heady overture to bass rumble of his voice, low enough you barely register when he switches back to english, a steady stream of praises which have you arching under him, always eager for his affection. khoroshaya devochka. that's it. there we go. give it to me. his thumb finds your clit and start to shake, falling apart at the seams.

"said i was like that man, dochka," he growls, a sudden vicious edge to his voice as he works you with singular focus. it sounds important so you try to listen, but he makes it hard with the rough pad of his thumb working you over. "durak. that man would have used you up. spat you out. not like him, milaya," he promises, kneeling back and dragging you with him, your legs pushed up and back until he could slot his hard cock up against your ass, lean his whole weight into you as he continued pumping his fingers into your abused pussy. your pleasure crests, pools in the basin he's made of your pelvis, brimming. spills when his free hand brushes your hair back from your face, that soft care you've always needed from him. "papa just wants to make you make you happy."

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 69 ~ We've all got Jobs to do

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

Era : Season 5

Word Count : 6.4k

In this chapter ~ As Rose continues to contemplate the job she was unexpectedly offered, Deanna talks of a party she's throwing to welcome all of the newcomers such as themselves. But that's not all the group has to be weary of as Rose has a run-in with a certain doctor that puts her on edge. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

I was beyond irritated. Irritated because I was woken up at the ass crack of dawn to hear someone knocking frantically on the door, and that someone just so happened to be Deanna. The sight of her of all people irritated me too. She made a huge fuss about what happened yesterday with Nicholas, saying I ran away too fast before even having a chance to go to their infirmary to be looked at. But I knew it was pointless. The man had his hands around me for about two seconds before I shut it down immediately, wanting to just forget it ever happened. Though eventually, I agreed. Because she wouldn't seem to shut up about it until I did.

But the worst part was I was missing out on the first secret meeting with the others as they headed off toward the woods. Rick, Daryl, and Carol were planning to escape for a while to discuss what the next move would be to take back our guns. While I on the other hand had to go get a fucking check-up like a five year old. However, I knew that if I skipped out on seeing the doctor, Deanna would eventually find out, and I definitely didn't want to deal with that.

So, here I was, standing tiredly outside of the clinic, telling myself to knock while also simultaneously wanting to turn on my heel and leave. But the quicker I got in, the quicker I would get back out. With that I finally tapped my knuckles on the door and awaited the answer of the doctor that apparently was "too good to be true," according to the woman in charge.

The door swung open a few seconds later and I was met with a man that instantly gave me the chills. He looked perfectly normal upon first glance, but there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. I just didn't know what.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

But there it was. His speech was too slurred, and his breath smelled too much like liquor for it being nine in the morning. Seriously? The town drunk was the doctor that was too good to be true? The quicker I get in, the quicker I get out, Irepeated to myself before putting on the best fake smile I could muster.

"Yeah, I hope so. Deanna sent me over here to get looked at after what happened yesterday."

He gave me a blank look, like he had no clue what I was talking about. "The uh...the fight? Some guy got his hands around my throat and...well I guess it's better to be safe than sorry." I explained.

He let out a long sigh of frustration before reluctantly opening the door a bit wider, "Fine." he muttered, turning around to head back inside with a stomping of his feet, expecting me to follow.

My feet remained planted on the ground for a beat as I took a second to collect whatever patience I had left, before finally trailing after him. I followed his frame with my eyes as he led me into the back area, telling me to take a seat while he gathered some things together. I did a brief scan of the room, the varies of medical supplies before ultimately doing what he asked, sitting myself on some type of metal table. His back was facing me as he got everything he needed, surprising me a little that he was the one to break the dreaded silence.

"You're a part of that new group?" he asked, "Rose?"

My brows furrowed slightly, confused at how the hell he knew who I was, "Yeah..." I answered hesitantly, "How did you know my name?"

He turned around to face me now, "My wife said she met you the other day. Jessie."

Oh shit. "Oh, right yeah...briefly."

He hummed a response and came over with gloved hands, "Let me know if this hurts." he mumbled as he put some pressure on different parts of my throat.

I sat there patiently while his fingers moved with precision, but nothing pained me in the slightest. I knew coming here was a giant waste of time. My gaze traveled around the room again in utter boredom as I waited, scanning right past his head and quickly noticing a bottle of whiskey hidden behind a tissue box on the counter. Called it. But I didn't utter a word.

About a minute went by before he took his gloves off and threw them away in a nearby trashcan, taking out a small flashlight from his back pocket next. He aimed the light at different spots and angles of my neck to check for markings, before clicking it off a few seconds after.

"You might have some small bruising in the next few hours, but other than that you should be fine." he said under his breath as he turned away from me once more.

I nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I figured it wouldn't be anything too serious."

His head then suddenly whipped around to face me again rather quickly, "Then why the hell did you come in?" he questioned with a slightly raised voice.

My eyebrows flew up in shock at his sudden outburst for absolutely nothing, and the look on his face afterwards told me he knew he had fucked up. Not because he suddenly yelled at me, but because he didn't want anyone else to know about his bipolar behavior. He attempted to brush it off with a chuckle and raised his hands up to me as if he was surrendering.

"Sorry, sorry...I uh...didn't get much sleep last night. Someone kept me up." he said.

I hummed as if I understood, "Was his name Jack Daniels?"

The man's smile faded instantly, and a dangerous look appeared just behind his eyes. But I wasn't fearful. I knew he didn't have the balls to do a damn thing considering any marks or bruises he could potentially leave would be much harder to cover up rather than a few words he spit. Plus, he knew that I could fight. After all, that's the reason I came in here in the first place.

Now it was just the waiting game, to see who was going to make the next move. Personally, I was just waiting for him to say something, perhaps deny my assumption, but I could tell he was too angry to come up with a reasonable response.

"Does your wife know you start your day off with him bright and early?" I suddenly spoke again.

I was playing a dangerous game, but I wanted him to know a few things that were disguised behind my words. One, I wasn't going to let anyone talk to me like that. Two, I noticed his little secret that he seemed to keep hidden away. And three, I wasn't scared of him no matter how big and terrifying he may think he is.

His hands gripped the side of the counter until his knuckles turned white, and I took this as my cue to leave. "Well, thanks for the checkup doc. For your sake, I hope this is the last time I see you." I said sweetly before shoulder checking him on my way out, making it to the front door to leave.

I can honestly say I was left surprised when he didn't make a peep after the way my mouth ran on and on. But then again, he had to keep his sociopathic behaviors to himself, and couldn't show his true colors other than behind closed doors was my best guess. My mind didn't linger on the interaction for longer than it had to, tucking it in the back of my mind for later in case the man could potentially be a problem. But I prayed to God he wouldn't be.

Time passed as I finally made my way back to the safety of the house, expecting to see a few stragglers inside, but instead the place was empty when I walked through the door. The silence was almost unnerving in a way. But I tried to not let it bother me as I opted out to head upstairs, needing to find something to pass the time.

As I passed the bedrooms to my right, I stopped and backtracked a few feet when I noticed someone was in fact home. Michonne stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking at herself in the uniform she was given that looked exactly like Rick's, turning different ways to see every angle. I leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching as she adjusted the jacket a few times in unsureness.

"Damn, look at you girl." I suddenly spoke.

She jumped a little at my presence, but smiled when she saw it was just me, "Yeah?" she asked genuinely, "It's not too much?"

"No, it is," I said honestly, "You just pull it off pretty well."

Her smile grew larger, "Thank you." she muttered somewhat bashfully, before pausing and looking towards me a bit longer, "You know...you could be rocking one of these jackets right along with me."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, I know."

"So why don't you just accept the job? I mean if we're going to stay, I think that would be the best thing for you." she said.

"I don't know, Chonne...it's just not something that I thought I would ever have to do again. I mean it's not like I hated my job or anything, but...it's just a lot, I guess. Going back to normal."

She nodded, "I know, believe me it feels weird for me too. But we'll get used to it, build up something for the future. If you really think about it, this is the start of something that could be pretty amazing."

I didn't say another thing as I just looked at her, a growing smile on my face that apparently made her grow uneasy. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing...you've just come a long way since I first met you." I said.

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Haven't we all?"

"I guess so," I shrugged, "But you've just become so...positive. Makes me sick sometimes." I joked as I scrunched my nose a bit.

"Just trying to move forward and be optimistic." she said with a small laugh. I hummed in response, watching as she grew a little more serious, "But seriously...just think about it, yeah?"

I stared at her for a moment longer before slowly nodding my head in agreement. I already told Deanna I would think it over, and that's exactly what I was doing. I just didn't know if this decision was the right one. Looking at this opportunity, I only saw it as a shell of who I once was, and that's not someone I necessarily wanted to go back to. All of this was supposed to be a chance to give us a fresh start, not something old from the past that we were trying hard to forget.

The floorboard suddenly creaking to my left is what caused me to look over, seeing Rick was back and making his way up the stairs to stand beside me.

"Hey," he greeted as he squeezed my shoulder before then nodding towards Michonne, "Deanna wants to have a meeting with us about the job. Just the basics of what we're doing." he informed her.

Michonne nodded simply, moving to make her way out of the room as I let her pass, "Well, you kids have fun." I spoke sarcastically to the two of them.

The man chuckled, "Uh, yeah don't think you're getting away that easy. She specifically asked that we bring you along too." My eyes narrowed at him, and he quickly raised his hands to defend himself, "It wasn't my idea, don't look at me like that."

"I haven't even agreed to take this, why do I have to go?"

"Because if I go down, I'm taking you with me." Rick muttered so only I could hear, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to practically drag me out of the house alongside them.

My stomach churned uncomfortably, the anticipation building further and further as we approached her familiar house, making me want to crawl into a hole. I felt as if this is something that I shouldn't be a part of, something I shouldn't have any input on seeing as I hadn't fully committed to the role. And there was still something about this woman that always left me feeling a sense of dread. One that I had felt before, yet couldn't quite place.

As the three of us finally rolled in, Maggie was sitting at the dining table with Deanna to her left, a welcoming smile on her face once she noticed us.

"Ah welcome you three." Deanna greeted, giving us a chance to pile into the room, "Mrs. Dixon tha-"

"Rose." I interrupted with a wave of my hand, "Just Rose."

She nodded slowly, "Of course. Rose, thank you for coming along for the ride. Have you had enough time to think about my proposal?"

I glanced around at the others before shaking my head, "Um, no... still thinking."

"Well, take all the time you need. I've also been meaning to check in to see how the visit with Pete went today, is everything alright?" she asked.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, "Oh yeah, everything's great..." I said sarcastically.

She nodded, "Good."

Man, that one really flew over her head.

Though the man being brought to my attention again caused me to cease the opportunity while I had it, subtly gesturing for Rick's attention while Deanna's eyes were directed elsewhere. Exchanging a few words with Maggie that I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to. I felt him shift closer when he noticed my waving hand, leaning closer so I could lower my voice.

"Keep an eye on him." I muttered.

"Who?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the others as to not draw attention.

"Pete, the doctor. He's an alcoholic and was showing signs of aggression during our little time together. Could be abusive." I said casually. Though I could feel his gaze divert toward me, staring at me in what looked to be slight amazement. "What?" I asked.

An impressed smile crossed his lips, "Nothing...detective." he emphasized.

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up."

"How long exactly were you with him?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, a few minutes?"

"You found all of that out in a few minutes? And you still don't think this is the job for you?" he continued.

"It wasn't hard to figure out," I assured, "Just please back me up on this, okay?"

Upon seeing how serious I grew, he instantly nodded his head, "You got it, Rosie."

As if on cue, Deanna tore her attention away from Maggie the moment our silent conversation was done, getting straight to business it seemed like. "Well, it seems we all know why we're here. And your job is to protect and serve. You patrol, walk the wall, watch out for the kids. If there's a conflict- you solve it, and people will listen to you."

"Because we're wearing windbreakers?" Michonne asked, her eyes briefly looking at me with a knowing smile.

"Because they believe in this." she answered seriously, "Because I'm telling them to. A police officer used to live here so we already had the jackets, and I wanted to make it official. So, now it's official. There's going to be a government again one day and that's why I want Maggie working with me. There's also going to be a police force, which is why I want...you three to start it."

I couldn't help but shake my head at what she was saying, looking down at my shoes. "What?" she asked when she noticed the slight tension in the room, "Does it sound like pie in the sky?"

"No." Maggie answered immediately, Michonne's voice following soon after as she gave the woman the same answer; the one she wanted to hear.

Deanna then looked at Rick and I expectantly, "No..." we both seemed to mutter at the same time.

But it did. Every single thing she talked about seemed unrealistic, something that she tried hard to push for even though it wouldn't work out in the end. People had to be willing to work together in order to make a bright future possible. But from what I've witnessed, it seemed like not everyone here liked to play nice. And she had absolutely no idea.

"Let's talk security." Rick suddenly said, gesturing with his fingers for us to follow him back outside to look at the gates of Alexandria.

My boots clicked against the pavement as I followed behind the others, hearing Rick start to do what he does best. Take over. But he had clearly noticed something that he wanted to bring our attention to; and that was the lack of protection. He couldn't seem to express enough how there needed to be people on patrol at all times. How there should be someone constantly looking for any type of danger that could be coming our way. It amazed me slightly that this place had lasted as long as it had without really anyone keeping an eye out, especially with how the world was now.

Rick's voice seemed to fade into the background as I looked around at the walls, wanting to find any blind spots that Deanna should be made aware of for the future. But I paused when my eyes instead caught sight of Jessie and Pete standing just outside of the infirmary, talking quietly amongst each other. But by the look on his face, it didn't appear like the conversation would be staying peaceful for very long, his skin turning a slight shade redder. I watched the interaction closely, as if wanting to catch something I wasn't meant to see. As if to prove to myself that I was right about him from the very beginning.

"Excuse me?"

I blinked a few times and looked over to see Sasha approaching the small group we had formed, politely interrupting whatever was being said. However, I quickly tore my attention away again to find the couple I had been analyzing just seconds ago, but to my surprise, they were gone. Like they had vanished into thin air. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me all along, or maybe they had noticed me watching, quickly escaping from the public eye while my attention was elsewhere. I was leaning toward the latter.

"I want to volunteer to be one of the lookouts in the clock tower." Sasha spoke again, her hands resting on her hips as she looked toward Deanna.

"There are no lookouts in the clock tower." the woman said.

My brows furrowed as I was caught up with the conversation now, "What?" I found myself asking before my brain had time to process it.

Michonne grew concerned, "But we saw someone up there earlier."

Deanna waved it off, "That was an empty rifle my son, Spencer put up there. He mans it sometimes but not often. Look...there hasn't been a need."

I couldn't hold it back any longer. Her ignorance and stupidity starting to really get under my skin, "Hasn't been a need? Do you have any idea how dangerous people can be now?" I asked harshly, "There should have always been the need to have someone up there...if you want to protect your people that live here, you better be prepared to make some damn changes."

A deafening silence followed after my outburst. But deep down, I knew they all were aware of how right I was. "The truth is harsh sometimes, but someone had to say it." I muttered.

"No, I agree." Rick chimed in, "We need a lookout in that tower right now, twenty-four seven. It's the only way we'll be able to see if someone's coming at us."

The woman nodded her head in compliance, "Okay, okay, we'll make shifts."

"I'll take those shifts, as many as possible." Sasha quickly offered.

Deanna stared at her for a moment, "Why?"

My eyes panned back and forth between the two women, wanting to roll my eyes at my next words. Even if they were true. "Sasha's one of our best shots, she can handle it."

Sasha glanced over at me in obvious surprise, but ultimately nodded her head as a thank you, to which I returned the gesture. There was obviously a certain tension left between the two of us ever since we were nearly at each other's throats the last time we spoke. But I wasn't planning on holding a grudge. After all I would just be a hypocrite. If Aaron forgave me then why shouldn't I?

Deanna nodded to herself as she looked back at Sasha, "I'm going to put Spencer up there today, and I'll consider you being our primary lookout...but I want something in return."

Sasha grew to look just about as confused as the rest of us, "Tonight, I'm hosting a welcome for all of you at my home. I want you to be there." she said to the woman.

"Why?" she asked.

"Come tonight...then we'll talk about it." she said before turning towards me, "And you too. Don't try and hide out like you have been since the day you got here."

My eyebrows raised, "I'm sorry...hide out?"

"I can see why you and Mr. Dixon are married...similar in many ways. Like running away from anything unfamiliar. But if you'd just venture out for the evening, who knows? You might even have fun." she said with a raise of her eyebrows.

My fists clenched tightly at my sides as I wanted to rip her a new one, but I didn't. I managed to swallow whatever pride I had left before turning around to walk away without another word. It had only been three days in this hell and that bitch was acting like she somehow knew me like the back of her hand. To me it was unbelievable, the way she treated me the minute I walked through her door; like I was below her. It infuriated me.

The sound of heavy footsteps seemed to echo with mine the moment I took off, glancing over my shoulder to see Rick jogging to catch up with me. "Who the hell does she think she is?" I asked harshly before he could even get a word in.

He was slightly out of breath from the little run he had to make, "I don't know...I'm just surprised you held your tongue."

"Oh," I breathed, "Believe me, you have no idea. I'm over here considering her offer to help her and all she can seem to do is insult and condescend me like..." I trailed off, suddenly slowing down to a stop as I came to the sudden realization.

I hadn't thought about her in years. And now it was like she was standing in front of me all over again.

Rick looked down at me in concern, "Like what?"

"Like my mother used to." I finished, connecting the dots in my head finally as to why I resented the woman so much. Why I couldn't stand to be in the same room as her, or even look her in the eye. It was like my childhood was flooding back to me at full force.

But to my surprise the man next to me started to laugh a little, unknowing of the weight behind my words. Though one unamused look from me seemed to shut him up as he cleared his throat. "Sorry," he muttered, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Just...talk about something else, so I don't break into the armory and shoot myself right now." I replied with a thin-lipped smile.

"Speaking of," he lowered his voice, "Carol thought of a plan. She wants to sneak in there tonight so we can get a few of our weapons back."

I blinked, "That's what you guys talked about?" He nodded. "Some meeting." I muttered sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes, "I don't like not having those guns on us at all times; we're taking them back. The party tonight- everyone's gonna be there. That's our chance."

I nodded slowly, "Okay, fine. Carol's taking care of it?"

His eyes panned from me to just past my head, "I'm about to find out." he said, causing me to turn around to see where his gaze was now trained too. The woman herself was standing nearby, talking to some neighbor on the porch a few houses down from where we stood.

"Okay," I agreed as I turned back around, "Just keep me updated on what's happening." I spoke, snapping his attention back to me as he nodded in confirmation. "Did Daryl come back with you?"

He nodded, "Yeah, but he said something about heading out again to go out on a hunt. I'm thinking he needs more time away from here."

"Right. I'm going to try and catch him before he leaves."

"I'll talk to Carol." he said.

And with that, we parted ways, splitting off to head down different directions of the street. In my opinion, the idea of taking back the guns that were rightfully ours to begin with didn't seem like that big of a deal. It's not like we were trying to take over this place now, even if it was something to keep in the back of our minds.

My head was practically spinning and it was already starting to feel like the longest day of my life. With the secrecy we were keeping from the others about the armory, the idea of Pete being a new threat we had yet to escape from, and Deanna...it was a lot to process. I suppose this just goes to show that it doesn't matter how lucky you are with what you got, life truly doesn't get any easier.

"Hey, Ro!"

I sighed as I came to a stop again. What now?

Looking back, I saw Maggie approaching as she too apparently wanted to catch me before I wandered off, coming around to face me with a soft huff. "Well...that could've gone better don't you think?"

"You're the one who jumped at the opportunity to work alongside someone like that." I deadpanned.

She sighed, "Don't start. You know we need to put in the work, make an effort around here if we want to stay. And that includes going to that party..." she hinted sheepishly.

I pretended to think about it for a moment, "Hm...no."

Her face dropped, "What? Come on babe, she asked you to be there just like everyone else should be."

"Yeah, right before she insulted me." I corrected, "Did you know she acted like that from the minute I had my interview with her? She didn't even know me, and she still looked down her nose at me. I can't say I'm a huge fan."

She sighed, "Alright- you're right, she shouldn't have treated you like that. So, don't show up for her, show up for...me. Please?"

"Don't do this to me." I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Now, you know you don't do nothing you don't wanna do, but it would mean a lot if you stopped by tonight. And hey, maybe you can even get Daryl to go."

I stared at her like she was crazy. "Oh yeah, he'll be there. Maybe I can even get him to wear a nice, pretty dress."

She narrowed her eyes at me, "Stop."

"No, no, maybe with some heels too, that'll be real nice and classy."

"Okay, enough, you made your point." she laughed lightly, "But you never know unless you ask, and I know that man would do just about anything for you."

I sighed heavily, "Alright I'll ask...but I'm preparing to get shut down."

"So...you'll be there?" she asked with that hopeful glint in her eye.

It was silent for a few seconds before I rolled my eyes again how she was able to subtly manipulate me, "I'll be there."

A smile broke out onto her face and she pulled me into a hug, thanking me over and over again under her breath. I couldn't really understand why it was so important that I showed up in the first place when the others company would be just as good as mine, but I didn't linger on it. After we parted she began heading in the other direction, but not before calling over her shoulder that I should wear something nice. Like a dress? I was kind of joking about that. I guess maybe now it was a part of my karma.

Again I found myself lost in a spiral of thoughts on the way back into the house, mindlessly wandering in to see if Daryl was around here somewhere or if I was too late and he had already left. A part of me wanted to at least try to convince him to come with me, but I knew in the back of my mind he wouldn't do it. He hated shit like this just as much as I did.

Going out and socializing wasn't really his thing and that's okay. Socializing wasn't really my thing either, but here I am, being forced to go against my will. "You should take the job," "You should come to the party," man, these people were sure as hell making themselves comfortable crowding on my back. And I say that with love.

I looked up suddenly when I heard footsteps making their way down the stairs, seeing my husband in all his glory, standing there with his crossbow slung across his back ready for a hunt.

"Hey, there ya are." he said as he came up and kissed my cheek, "Was just about to head out and find ya."

I smiled, "I was looking for you too."

We fell in step together as he headed toward the kitchen just down the hall, "Did ya talk to Rick bout the meetin we had this mornin?"

I nodded, "Yep, the plan about the guns, be ready for anything, we aren't taking this place over yet still being cautious. I got the whole thing." I went on.

He huffed softly, "Alright, good. M' bout to go out huntin but I'll be back by dark. Just wanted to come and say goodbye to ya first." he said with a sweet smile before turning and grabbing a glass from a cabinet.

I took in a breath, "Okay, yeah just be safe out there...and uh, I actually wanted to run something by you quick."

"Shoot." he said, briefly glancing at me over his shoulder.

Here we go. "Well, Deanna mentioned this thing earlier that's happening tonight at her house, and the whole group is invited. It's more like a...party?"

"Mhm." he hummed.

Jesus Christ, please take the hint.

"And the thing is, I wanted to ask if you...would spare me the absolute horror of having to go by myself...?" I asked hesitantly.

He was silent for a moment before he let out a soft huh sound, turning on the faucet and holding the glass underneath to get the cup full of water. "I know it's not your thing; it's definitely not mine either, but I sort of promised Maggie I'd show up. Not that I know what difference that would make, I don't exactly light up the room with my bubbly personality. But anyway, I get it if you don't want to, I just thought I would, you know, ask."

"Rosie?" he questioned.

I raised my eyebrows, "Yeah?"

"Yer rambling." he said with a slight chuckle.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, "My point is, you really don't have to go if you don't want to."

There was a long and terribly loud silence as I watched the wheels turn in his head even though he was facing away from me. He took his time taking long sips of the water in his hand, purposefully making me crazy. I could almost sense the smirk on his face while he did it. He knew what he was doing, I just wanted him to turn down the offer faster so I could get on with my day.

My nails began to tap impatiently on the counter, "May I remind you that you don't have to go?" I repeated to try and move this along.

He turned back to look at me, his smirk fading slowly as he saw the look on my face, before he turned back and dumped the rest of the water down the drain, "Ya want me to go?" he asked, now facing me again.

"Well...yeah-" I started.

"Then I'll go."

I shook my head a little, "What, that easy?"

He shrugged with a small smile, "Yep." he said, making his way over to stand in front of me, "But I ain't stayin the whole time." he warned.

"I'm not staying the whole time."

"Well, then you got a date pretty lady." he said softly before leaning down to peck my lips, the action alone bringing the reassurance I needed.

I hummed with a smile as I tilted my head to look at his face a little longer before he left for a few hours, "Is it pushing it if I asked you to dance with me while we're there?"

"Yeah." he answered immediately.

I shrugged, "Eh, worth a shot."

He chuckled quietly, leaning down to kiss me once more before parting from me, adjusting the strap of his weapon. "Might not be back by the time it starts, but I'll be there, alright?"

"Hey, you're showing up, that's more than I could ask for." I joked.

He smiled, "I'll see ya later."

"Bye" I winked, watching as he headed out toward the front door, opening and shutting it with a soft click, leaving me alone in the quiet.

Now I had the whole day to be anxious about this stupid party.

I never thought I would ever be in this situation again. Staring at a closet full of clothes, absolutely not knowing what the hell to wear.

I was never a big fan of dresses really, but it seemed like the only suitable option considering I didn't just want to show up in a shirt and jeans. I had been nervously anticipating this event for hours, cautious about meeting a bunch of people and the thought of dressing up sounded awful. But regardless, I promised Maggie that I would be there, and a part of me wanted to prove to Deanna that I wasn't just going to hide myself away like she had claimed. Even though I felt it was better that I did.

Eventually, I decided on a simple black dress with thin straps and added a pair of tights to really bring the look together. And luckily enough, I had managed to find a pair of dark heels sitting in an old shoe box in the closet, a pair that looked like they would absolutely torture my feet the moment I put them on. I sighed quietly to myself before walking over to the full-length mirror and taking a look at the final product in the reflection.

My eyes widened slightly when I saw what I looked like. I guess maybe I could clean up nice, even though the scars on my face didn't really match the whole "classy" look; it was still unique. My thick curly hair came down to below my chest and surprisingly looked full and healthy, but as my eyes trailed down, I noticed just how jittery my hands were. A small part of me wished that Daryl was here to help soothe my worries, walking right next to me into that personal hell as we went through it together. But that wasn't the case. I didn't need him there, but I wanted him there.

"Wow." came a sudden voice from the doorway.

I turned around slowly to see Rick standing there with slightly wide eyes and his hands on his hips. He was dressed nicely in a clean, white button down and some nice black jeans with his hair slightly slicked back.

I made a face, "Like a good wow?" I asked, subconsciously smoothing the dress down to get rid of any lingering wrinkles.

He nodded his head, "Yeah...like a...a breathtaking wow."

A shy smile stretched across my lips as I waved him off, "Aw, thanks Ricky." 

He laughed softly, making his way further into the room until he was standing right in front of me, "I've never seen you so dressed up...you look nice."

"Yeah, well don't get used to it or anything. You don't look too bad yourself." I said as I slightly fixed the collar of his shirt, "Got someone you're trying to impress?" I asked with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes, "Thank you, but no. Just going because..." he trailed off, before sighing as he rubbed his head stressfully, "I don't even know why I'm going."

I nodded, "You're not the only one in that boat." I muttered, my eyes taking him in for a moment in contemplation, "Hey, can I ask you something?" He met my eyes and nodded. "That job...you really think I should take it?"

"Yeah," he assured almost instantly, "I get why you're weary...but you're damn good at being a cop Rose. You just have to...trust yourself again."

I knew he was right. At times like these when all I could do was doubt myself, he always seemed to swoop in and say just the right thing whenever I needed to hear it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad in the end.

I smiled at him in appreciation before my feet involuntarily shifted uncomfortably, to which I let out a frustrated groan. Rick began to chuckle under his breath, "What, was the advice that bad?" I heard him ask.

"No," I sighed, "We just haven't even left the house yet, and my feet are already killing me." I said in faux agony.

He laughed even harder before moving by my side to place an arm around my shoulders for support, "It's alright. Just lean on me when you need to." 

"Ah, you're the best." I mused as I wrapped an arm around him to steady myself as we walked out the bedroom door.

After getting Carl and Judith, the four of us left the house to venture down the street towards Deanna's. The sun was just starting to set which gave the whole community a warm orange glow, and we could already start to hear the music that was being played from the inside as we inched our way closer to the source.

Before any of us were really ready for it, we were standing tall in front of the door, almost dreading to knock. Though eventually Rick stepped up to the plate while Carl and I eyed each other cautiously, both silently hoping this wouldn't be as bad as we thought. But just as that thought crossed my mind, the door opened up to reveal Deanna standing there, greeting us with a welcoming smile. While over half the community in the background immediately looked over at us with curious glances.

Yeah, this was going to be a long fucking night.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @marsmallow433 @catlalice @winterassassin1804 @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[utilitycaster]

The reason those C3 fans shit the bricks over the Charity stream was because they viewed the charity stream as a win for them and bells hells. Not like you know, an actual good thing to help people in need. Because when it was announced they were in the qrts and on twt yelling that the cast closing to play as Bells Hells was cause they loved them above all. That BH were "winning" because MN didn't get one shots while airing. No1 expected anyone BUT BH to be played so they were fighting air tbh.

[Cont. So when Laudna got yeeted and Beau joined it, it's like they suddenly hit with the fact that the cast like all the times. All character sheets were available and BH was being played by default of the one shot happening during c3. But they hung their entire world view on BH being extra special that they broke. Saw them also being PISSED at Ashley and Liam for getting MN members to the top before everyone else and especially the gate was "showing up BH".]

Here is what gets me, as a person who does not follow sports in any form: The Mighty Nein are a juggernaut of popularity within the fandom. I think this is for the most part deserved and I also think a lot of fans of C1 who never vibed with any later campaigns are simply not active in fandom any more since it's been 7 years, and Critical Role had more recognition with Campaign 2, so like, numbers within active social media fandom are not a perfect indicator of quality, itself a subjective measure.

HOWEVER. If you want your team to win, the most efficient way to do that is to start rooting for the winning team. I get that this is considered treasonous to genuine fans of sports. But like, if your biggest priority is Number Is Bigger then there is an obvious solution and it's called jumping on the bandwagon. Otherwise, perhaps you should consider a different metric, such as "did I have fun at this game? Were the snacks good? Were there some cool plays?" (from this you can see my priorities re: live sports namely are my friends here and did I get some nachos and a beer but you get my point). Honestly, this is how I and a lot of other people have been approaching Bells Hells week to week for some time now: were there some cool scenes? Did the character they liked most at the time say something funny? Did NPCs do anything? Were the fight mechanics interesting?

I have a post that I am saving for next week about specific elements of C3 that goes into more depth but I feel like Campaign 3's fandom in particular fell to a certain attitude that feels very specific to a younger (to me, an ancient crone, so like, mid-20s) crowd, of obsessing over numbers: how many fics. how many notes. how much screentime. can you believe that Episode 100 didn't even have Bells Hells in it????? And it's like. who the fuck cares. Is it good? Is it satisfying? Because right now we're watching you guys all admit it hasn't been and 120 episodes in you were waiting for the campaign to REALLY begin.

I don't think the cast dislikes Bells Hells! I think they all like all of their characters, and frankly when the cast gets asked directly a lot of them go with a "you never forget your first" and give their VM character anyway so like, the vitriol at the Mighty Nein really is a petty popularity contest in the end. But Bells Hells are the party that the cast happened to be playing during the Moon Plot Campaign and the party that the cast happened to be playing at the time of the livestream. None of the three main parties are uniquely special. They are special to their individual fans.

I made the Elon Musk comparison for C3 fans earlier this week and I don't want to go too hard since like, he is truly horrible, and I do think that a lot of C3 fans, while currently shitty self-absorbed people, are also quite young and it is my hope that a sharp but ultimately harmless disappointment like this campaign might shock them into fixing their hearts, but the final lines of this post came to mind while writing up a lot of my responses: "And in fact I would argue that seeking to put yourself above other people is inherently going to leave you empty, because egotistical as you may be, you've adopted a values system where your sense of self worth intrinsically depends on other people. Congratulations, you played yourself."

If your day can be ruined because your blorbo wasn't present for 100% of a live stream for charity and the cast likes all of their characters? You should work on that! I'm not saying it's easy or fun but it really is a thing you should work on because right now, the worst thing that's going to happen to you is people laughing at your misfortune on social media. But if you keep up this behavior, you're going to be bitter and miserable forever, and it will be your own fault because you're getting mad that something that was never about you continues to not be about you. Learn to accept that you had a good time (if you had a good time, anyway) and it's over and that's okay.

[collapsedglasshouses]

TANGLED THREADS [Noah Sebastian x fem!reader, Nick Ruffilo x fem!reader]

COLLEGE!AU

CHAPTER TWO: TAKING THE LEAD SUMMARY: Nick knows. And he won’t let it slide. PAIRING: Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader; mentions of Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ [unprotected p in v, degradation, rough sex, …], no mentions of reader’s name, angst, reader is toxic, toxic dynamics, nick is a meanie but he kinda is right, mentions of nick and reader thinking about noah during intercourse, swearing, its not entirely proofread (ill do it eventually, pinky promise …) WORD COUNT: 2.2K A/N:Holy hell. My brain hurts after writing this. Nick finally made a proper appearance!!! I don’t even know what to say. There is one part left, but don’t ask me when it will come out. Hope you enjoy! Bye bye. READ PART ONE HERE.

You knew it was stupid. You knew you were incredibly stupid for doing what you were doing these past few weeks. You were so deep in this tragedy that the thought of calling your mom had slipped your mind for a reasonable amount of time, but you quickly realized that you were not quite ready to tell your mom that you had slept with two guys in the span of four weeks who, to make matters worse, were also best friends.

You wanted nothing more than to leave what had happened behind you, but for some reason you kept coming back to that one particular moment. Your thoughts revolved around that one night that changed everything. Nick had called you that night to catch up on your day, and you had asked him outright if he was in love with you. You wanted to be the bigger person, wanted to show Noah that you were really just casual with Nick, but when he did not answer right away, you felt something crack inside of you. You liked Nick. Maybe a little too much for your own good.

On the other hand, you really didn't know where to put Noah. You had noticed the way he looked at you before something had even happened between you. You saw how he always seemed a little too close to be just friendly with you. You had noticed the way he looked at you when you were with Nick, and somehow you understood how he felt.

It must have felt similar to the first time you saw him and Nick in that bar. They felt like this unbreakable team. Like a duo that really cared and loved each other no matter what. You had sworn to yourself that you would not try to challenge their bond, but when Nick kissed you just a few days later, you knew it was too late. You were already far more invested than you should have been.

You liked to think of yourself as rational and collected, but you really couldn’t understand the actions you had participated in, these past few weeks. You had sworn to keep your distance, even skipping classes to avoid Noah, but somehow he kept slipping right back into your life. Or literally… into you.

Not once had the two of you talked about Nick as if his name was a curse. But you soon realized that you were stupid to think that Nick would just let it go.

The air in your room was tense as Nick stormed in angrily. There had been weeks of silence and tension since your breakup, but this night would be different.

You sat on the bed, your legs crossed and your eyes fixed on the papers you had to finish soon. You knew exactly why he was here, but you weren't quite ready to face it.

"Please tell me you're joking." Nick hissed, his eyes glittering with anger.

"What?" You asked, your eyes still glued to the screen. Then he threw something at you. You jumped at the impact before examining the piece of cloth. A small piece of black lace with a little heart on the waistband. It was your panties. You vividly remembered the last time you had worn them. You had stood outside Noah's room that night like a desperate little shit.

Your eyes darted to Nick's angry face and back to the garment. Inside you were screaming, but there was also this intense anger bubbling up inside you.

"Could you explain to me why you think it is necessary to snoop through people's things and then barge into my room like that? I have things to do." You exclaimed as calmly as possible while throwing your panties to the floor.

"You know exactly why I'm here. You slept with him, didn't you?" It wasn't really a question, but an accusation that dripped from his lips like poison.

"So, what? The last time I checked, we weren't serious or exclusive." You answered him, the annoyance you felt lacing your words. It still stung. Thinking about how he had gotten to you and how pathetic you were to think he really wanted a real relationship with you. With Noah, things seemed easier. You knew something was there, but neither of you felt the need to talk about it, and you liked it that way.

"He's my best friend, for fuck sake." He said, his eyes cold and distant. If you weren't so sure that this had to do with his ego being bruised, you might have misinterpreted it as some kind of vulnerability.

He took two big steps to stand in front of your bed and leaned down slightly, causing you to close your laptop. "You knew it was wrong. You knew how he felt about you."

You quickly got up from your bed and looked him in the eyes with a fake smile. "And now? It's not like it stopped you from fucking me anyway, knowing damn well how he felt."

Nick clenched his jaw as he studied your face. Neither of you dared look away.

"To be honest, it sounds to me like you are jealous that he actually had the courage to show me how he felt." You almost spat the words in his face.

His gaze darkened, but that only made you ramble on. "Or maybe you're angry that he can get me off a lot faster than you can."

"You're a fucking whore, you know that?" He whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't flinch at his words, but leaned forward, his warmth radiating off your body. "And you're a fucking hypocrite, Ruffilo."

His eyes traveled to your lips for such a brief moment that you almost missed it. Anger was written all over his face, but there was something else you noticed that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"Wait." You murmured, a small and mocking grin finding its place on your features. "This shit turns you on, doesn't it?"

Nick didn't say anything, but didn't dare to move away from you either, while you started to snicker bitterly. "You're seriously calling me a whore when you get all aroused at the thought of Noah and me together? "You're pathetic."

Nick was silent, breathing heavily through his nose as he stared down at you with such intensity that you could almost feel the weight of his eyes as they bore into you. His hands were clenched into fists and before you knew it, he had grabbed your wrist and was pushing you against the wall next to your bed.

“Noah just doesn’t know how to deal with your fucking attitude.” Nick hissed, bringing you so close that your lips almost touched. You met his eyes, the warmth spreading through your body, while your heart still leaped with pride.

"Noah has a bigger dick than you." You answered him, knowing it was childish, but you wouldn't let it go.

"Yeah, that's a lie." He breathed. "Maybe you need a reminder."

"Noah has a bigger dick than you." You answered him, knowing it was childish, but you wouldn't let it go.

"Yeah, that's a lie." He breathed. "Maybe you need a reminder."

With a quick move, he had turned you around. You leaned your hands against the wall for support as you felt Nick's breath against your neck. You tried to stifle a moan as his hand traveled over the curve of your body, but failed miserably. You cursed yourself internally for wearing only your thinnest shorts, making it harder and harder to ignore his touch against your lower abdomen.

“You still wanna tell me about Noah?” He asked as his hand slipped through the waistband of your shorts, teasing you.

“As if you wouldn’t like it.” You tried to say as confident as possible, while his hand slipped into your panties. 

“Aw, look at you. You’re so invested in Noah that you’re already soaking wet for me and I didn’t do shit.” He mocked you as his finger teasingly flicked over your clit. A stuttering breath escaped your mouth.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, but you also weren’t thinking about stopping him in the slightest. 

“Don’t be like that, princess. We both know you love this.” He snarled in your ear before retrieving his hand, causing you to shiver. You were about to push away from the wall, when you heard him hiss: “Don’t you dare.”

It merely took seconds for him to get you out of your shorts and also get rid of his pants. He kicked your feet further apart, one hand placed on your waist, the other lining up his hard dick at your entrance. You felt precum leak onto your leg, causing you to suppress another moan and you felt how you arch your back in his direction, without even realizing it.

“Look at you. All of the sudden, all desperate for my cock.” He said, as he slowly pushed inside of you. “You can brag about Noah all you want, he still can’t fuck you like I can.” With that he bottomed out, groaning quietly.

You clenched around him. Of course, he was right. But you would rather run into an open fire than admit that to him. You bit down on your lip when he started to move, his pace immediately as brutal as his emotions.

You wanted to say something. You desperately wanted to put him into his place, but you were too busy trying to lower the pleas that left your mouth, while your pussy throbbed with the burning need to come.

You gasped for air, fighting to speak up under the intense pressure of his cock, but nothing besides whimpers came out.

“I see why Noah couldn’t resist you. I think we both like it a little too much to see you fall apart like this.” Nick tried to hiss, but his words came out as a moan. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to moan out his name, as his right hand dropped from your waist onto your swollen clit.

“You sound like the desperate little slut you are.” Nick mocked you as heavy breaths left your mouth. You sputtered, one of your hands leaving the wall to grasp onto his wrist as if it would save you from falling apart.

“Tell me… Who do you think makes you come harder?” Nick whispered in your ear and your mind betrayed you. For a split second you thought about the two of them together. You wondered if they would try to compete against each other. You remembered how Noah’s tongue felt against your clit and with what precision he carried out his acts in comparison to Nick.  

The image alone of Nick and Noah sent you flying over the edge. “Nick - I…” you stuttered, your voice strained. “I’m gonna…” 

“Come on.” He almost ordered, his finger flicking over your clit in fast motions while he hammered into you. “Come on my dick just like you did on his.”

You let out a sharp cry as your head hit the wall, thighs shaking violently as Nick’s hips went on in his brutal pace. You tensed up, your vision becoming blurry as you moaned out his name in a repeating and pleading manner. Nick, in the meantime, didn’t stop, fucking into you in overstimulating manner. 

You felt how his nails dug into your hips, causing you to gasp for air immediately. It felt like something was missing to tip him over, when an idea shot in your head.

“The night…” You breathed out. “when he first fucked me, I was wearing your Limp Bizkit hoodie.” Your voice was so hoarse and quiet, you first weren’t sure if he heard you, but all of the sudden, he let out a groan.

“F-... Fuck you.” He cried out, his hips stuttering ever so slightly, while his grip on your hips became bruising. Without another warning he spilled into you so violently, you could feel each hot splash painting the walls of your pussy.

With a deep breath, he leaned against your back, his head resting on your shoulder. 

It took the two of you a few long minutes, before anyone dared to move or talk. You were sure if he suddenly decided to move, you would simply collapse to the ground. 

“You know, Noah would-...” You wanted to annoy him even more, but he quickly cut you off. “I swear to god, if you say his name one more time.”

Something in his tone had changed though. He wasn’t as angry anymore as he used to be. If you had heard right, he even let out a small snicker.

It took another minute, before Nick slowly pulled out of you, causing you to take a deep breath. You felt how his cum slowly started dripping down your thighs, but you couldn’t care less.

You silently cleaned up and got dressed again, before facing each other. 

“Noah told me, by the way.” Nick confessed, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “He did?”

“Yeah, and we both think the three of us have something to talk through.” Nick then exclaimed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. You started to pick the skin on your index finger, not knowing what was about to come, but you slowly began to nod.

“Text us when you’re ready.”

That was the last thing Nick said, before stepping out of your dorm without looking back. 

There was no way you could ignore that now.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 @sitkowski @exitwoundsx

[fettery-fetterie]

It's already joever for me so let's go say:

(wait why did I say joever? I meant to say it already late for me)

Implied suicide/suicide ideation??????

Peka but he has found a way to "die" and now every now and then kills himself in order to relief the pain of the wait. Peka who has experienced the freedom of death like if a soothing sleep was only to wake up again as if his death meant nothing. Because it doesn't. He can be put back together whenever he feels like it.

Peka who desperately wishes for death. Peka who hopes for the day he doesn't wake up and can finally rest for the eons he has been going through

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Burning Rotten Bridges

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[destinywillowleaf]

one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

[smartzelda]

Sorry guys I gotta speak my truth on this one

I'm not kidding when I say that I think that blaming shit media literacy from fans on shipping/shippers avoids the actual root of the problem to throw people you can easily throw under the bus (simply because it's not unpopular to consider people who post about ships or ship characters in media as having lesser or derivative tastes by default)

And here's why.

I think when you blame people who are "shippers" or "consume media through shipping lenses", the true root of it all is a mindset problem.

In actually, putting on shipping lenses can be helpful when trying to analyze a piece of media. When analyzing media you're supposed to approach it through a number of mindsets and put on different lenses (both to deepen your personal understanding of the media, and to pick it apart and see what you can find there (whether intentional or not on the author's part)), and different ships can be some of those lenses

When it comes to ships between main characters (for those who are genuinely willing to see what the narrative is showing with their relationship and what it's doing), there are times when analyzing it from a shipping lens may be helpful. As someone from KH fandom, I have seen people come to deeper understandings and pick canon apart in the process of analyzing a relationship that is genuinely integral to the story (platonic or not). I've also seen people get into rarepairs of characters who barely interact or who just suffer little screen time, and I've seen them come to better understandings of those side characters and how they potentially fit into the world of the media simply because people are now focusing on these characters and how they fit into the narrative.

Frankly, I resent the idea that the only way to truly objectively analyze a piece of media is by turning off the part of your brain that gets excited over relationships and individual characters. Don't get me wrong, that is a way to approach a piece of media and a valid one at that, but the truth is that we cannot be free of bias.

For instance, I was watching House MD with my parents circa last year. At some point I started heavily tuning into what was going on with House and Wilson's relationship. My parents, on the other hand, were largely watching casually. They're not thinking of character relationships or getting heavily invested in most characters, they're watching because they like watching. One of them in particular did try to analyze things that were happening in the show as they happened. However, when it came to the scene late in the series where House threw out Dominika's letter approving her American citizenship, my parents could understand that he was doing that because he didn't want her to leave, but not much beyond that. I ended up explaining to them that House's fake marriage for Dominika was an explicit parallel to when Wilson was living with House in the early seasons. Both situations started with House being none too happy about it but ultimately letting them stay, spending a considerable amount of effort getting them to leave/getting this situation to be finally over so he didn't have to deal with it anymore, and then by the time a piece of news comes through that would mean the person in question actually leaves, House hides this news as long as he can. Because he doesn't actually want them to leave and has grown attached. And by doing this he became a self fulfilling prophecy. By reacting to the truth of Wilson and Dominika leaving him the way he does, he seals his fate and they ultimately leave anyways. Maybe I ship Hilson, but becoming open to how their relationship was handled allowed me to transition to doing character studies and recognizing patterns/parallels that I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't particularly care about the characters or their relationship.

Likewise, I've seen mutuals complain about how people who don't like or don't care about certain characters often overlook these characters (what they're actually like and their place in the narrative), while the mutuals in question (by default) are able to come to deeper understanding of what the writers/story is trying to do because they care about this funky guy

You can't eradicate bias when you're engaging in media analysis, but you can consciously put on a range of lenses and observe the media through different povs with the goal of understanding the media better or bolstering your reading of it. And those lenses/povs can include focusing on specific relationships or the perpective of certain characters

And this is why I say it's actually a mindset problem. Shippers and people who have this one blorbo they like a lot aren't inherently terrible "fandom brained individuals" who are the root of media analysis problems. The problem only arises when people's readings/analysis of a piece of media are inherently restrictive/narrow and self centered. Your problem is with people who view a piece of media through a ship they like but don't keep an open mind about it, and whose "media analysis"/views on canon cannot be split from fanon and their comfortability levels. These are the people whose "media analysis" starts and ends with justifying their fanon as canon, whose views on media revolve around sorting characters and relationships into categories they personally enjoy rather than trying to understand what's going on.

Here's another example.

Here we have a fictional ship we'll call uhhhh...Blanebin. this fictional ship I made up on the spot for characters that don't exist named Blane and Corbin

Person A is super into Blanebin. They're part of the main cast of characters and canonically childhood best friends, so person A (as much as they enjoy fanart and fic) is also enjoying analyzing how narratively important to each other they are. Recently, Corbin started dating another character in canon, but Person A is enjoying watching how Blane is reacting to this. "Is this potentially a tell that Blane is jealous or is having complicated feelings about this? What if he was, how would that contextualize his behavior this season? Here's what I think based on how Blane dealt with explicit jealousy last season in a different situation". It's not impossible that person A is still missing further understanding due to their obsession with Blanebin, but at the end of the day this obsession has allowed them to start picking through the characters both in and outside this relationship. It has allowed them to see potential subtext and theorize on what might happen next with these characters' relationship. Not to mention that with addition of Corbin dating someone else, instead of trying to erase this fact or state that Corbin canonically isn't into that person, Person A is trying to factor in how Corbin's current dating life affects his relationship with Blane (irregardless on personal views on the nature of Corbin's relationship with the person he's dating).

Person B is also super into Blanebin. They really enjoy fanart and fic of the characters, love obsessing over their moments together, and just feel like there's really something between the characters. To person B, every moment between them is just further proof that the writers are ship teasing them. But Corbin getting together with someone else this season? Oh that pissed person B off. They cannot believe that even though Corbin and Blane are CLEARLY gay for each other the writers had Corbin get with someone else this season. Perhaps, they think, it was even a decision specifically made to spite fans. How evil of the writers to tease a perfectly good ship and then have them not get together first? They must have been just doing those teases to get views from Blanebin shippers those scoundrels. To Person B, since Corbin started dating someone when he obviously has some chemistry with Blane (even though the series is far from over) means that Blanebin can never get together now and Corbin x person he's dating is ruining Blanebin by existing. In fact, they think, this is terrible writing for Corbin to be dating someone else because they don't like that relationship and don't see the point. Obviously if the writers were good then Corbin would have started dating Blane instead because this was supposed to be the Blanebin show.

Person C despises Blanebin. Don't get them wrong, they've always enjoyed the character's childhood friendship, but they actually have always thought Blane would have been better off with Victoria. They have a lot of moments too! But they're tired of seeing people ship Blanebin. Corbin just got together with someone else, so obviously that's not gonna work out. Plus Corbin and Blane totally has always given person C bro vibes. In fact, person C thinks, sure Corbin and Blane have a close friendship, but people shouldn't be shipping them. Person C likes Blanetoria and Blanetoria can't be canon if Corbin is in the way of it. So Person C likes to read Blanebin as siblings anyways. Sure they're canonically friends, but obviously their friendship turned into brotherhood. This means that nothing can be in the way of Blanetoria and Corbin can keep dating the person he's already canonically dating. Actually, now Blanebin just straight up makes Person C uncomfortable. Don't the pesky shippers understand that Blanebin are sibling coded because they're childhood best friends and that they're important to each other because they're brothers? It's obvious to anyone with eyes.

Sure, ships are involved here, but is the root of this problem shipping? Character A isn't as knowledgeable of other characters in the plot due to this lens they're using, but at the end of the day they're dedicated to analysis. Their love of the characters is pushing them beyond what they like or dislike to try to understand what might be happening through their lens. Not perfect, but they are slowly broadening their horizons. But Person B and C's problems here are their restrictiveness. What is or should be canon to them is tantamount to what they personally like or find comfortable. Is person C actually analyzing the this fake show when they decide to "read" Blanebin as basically canonically siblings (and this all of their moments are totally a bro thing) just because they don't like Blanebin and the idea of them getting together over Blanetoria makes them uncomfortable? Is person B actually analyzing this fake show when their "analysis" of Blanebin goes only as far as asserting it's being ship teased and deciding anything short of canonizing Blanebin is a targeted attack or "bad writing" because it's not what they wanted personally to happen?

This is what I'm talking about. This is the mindset. Shipping isn't the problem. The problem is when people marry fanon and canon to the point where they have a vested interest in superimposing their fanon over canon as "a reading" and trying to make "collective decisions" on what is canon (or what canon is trying to say) based on what does or doesn't make them uncomfortable. The problem is people being restrictive and centering their own likes and dislikes in the conversation, so they can only interact with canon "analysis" wise by deciding what is canon or should be canon "as obviously agreed on by everyone". You can't simply claim you like media analysis. To be able to analyze media and bolster your views on any given canon, you must be open to looking at it through multiple povs, to studying characters without trying to pretend things you don't like don't exist or do like do exist. There is a balance that must be kept between trying to keep objectivity and putting on specific focus/bias based upon the lenses you're putting on. You have to be willing to try to figure out what a media is doing or saying, not saying you're trying to figure out what it's saying while in actuality trying to define the narrative around what people believe it's saying in ways that suit you.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[hauntingblue]

CAUSE THIS IS THRILLER (bark), THRILLER (bark) NIGHT

Usopp's outfit is so funny for reals

He got the whole squad laughing

Luffy enablers at it again.... (Robin.... I know.....)

The humor panels so far have been so good!!! God this arc is so funny

HE SAID IT‼️‼️

They look like birds 😭😭

It's just too good... luffy taking cerberus and zombies what can't he do

It's just banger after banger what can I say

Franky feeling for other people because of his guilt complex and sanji lying through his teeth and pulling out the women excuse to seem unaffected... yeah

Look at them.... look how they ate

Omg joyboy reference?? (No)

Sanji is rubbing off on usopp.... also chopper noticing that is sogeking's weapon akdhaksjak

ANOTHER SLAY!!!!!

Their priorities: I'm not strong enough, there isn't enough food, and nami isn't here

Franky going from wanting to kill brook for his jokes to making a joke like his after he hears his backstory... exactly (Robin was already enabling him before the backstory even fdagjsfha)

Sanji is altering his body and actually being on fire to communicate to us how fucking mad he is..... I need more of him going insane I do I do

My god what is he doing ALDJALAJALA

AHSAHAHQHAH THEY ARE THE SAME!!! naaah sanji wouldn't force a woman to be his wife

You cant see me but I am nodding my head in agreement over and over

You don't understand he altered his body to communicate to us how mad he is. He inploded himself and then reconstituted again. Those germa 66 genes are insane

You tell em usopp!!!! The first of many girls you've scared into defeat!!! Akdjqknql

Zoro zombie regressed to not trusting robin akdjaks he's still in there

ROBI-CHO SUPLEX??? HELL YEAAAAAH

There is zosa- [GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]

Super frapper gong.... he is doing combo shots with frobin... omg.... parents....

Everything is so fun I'm having such a good time reading.... and then zosan angst like damn I am being fed well here

[hickeygender]

23 is young and i don't wanna go acting like it isn't but sometimes i see stuff from baby zoomers and i feel fucking ancient. skibidi toilet? i have yet to understand what that's referencing. reality shifting? i was into new agey stuff as a teen and i get the whole law of attraction/manifestation thing, but the rest is all greek to me. a good half of the aesthetics i see talked about online? literally got overwhelmed when i stumbled on the aesthetics wiki last year and i feel like an idiot seeing all these kids list off like 4 different hyperspecific aesthetics to describe themselves 😭 girl what does any of that mean? patiently explain it like i'm 85 when it comes up, or don't expect me to know what the hell you're talking about. i'll just end up smiling and nodding like your out of touch grandpa who loves your energy but is frightened by cellphones and the concept of smartfridges 💀💀💀

[maryasmorevna]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

no yeah i really love how every core 4 member got a real happy ending....except for ej

nini is happily pursuing music in la with her moms' full support

ricky is dating gina, a girl he calls "home". he's finally becoming more at peace with love and how to show it. he's learned how to not run from his problems. his parents are getting back together (???) and his drama teacher wrote such a good letter of recommendation that he was accepted into a community college

gina becomes a literal movie star and was able to change the filming location of her second movie, without any consequences, to salt lake so she can physically be with ricky, the boy she finally got to date after crushing on him since the day they met. she has a permanent home to call her own now. her mom finally showed up to an opening night and she was finally able to portray gabriella

and then ej...is alone (in a wildcat sense) at college, financially cut off from his family, working multiple jobs to afford it. he spends most of his season 4 screentime guiding and helping others (ricky, gina, miss jenn, madlyn) instead of an actual storyline and a lot of his lines were about how he's made mistakes and has to live with them

[souridealist]

me: this is going to be my nice, fun, lighthearted fandom where I just write lots of low-pressure goofy shit, I really need that right now me: me: me: me: trips and lands 1100 words into a fic about Laura, "Worst!"Logan, and the seven million psychological complexes that Laura's original Logan by all logic would have left her with