#even now the only reason i don’t say it explicitly is because my friends have seen me drunk/tipsy in the past (again nothing bad i just dont
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Hi! Your tags on the post about Buck going sober are very relatable! I'm also someone who just doesn't drink without a previous reason making my decision. It would be really cool & refreshing to see that. I think nowerdays it seems to be a lot more "socially acceptable" (ugh that thats a thought for personal choice!) To not drink just because or without having to explain or be pushed about it, which is really great! Anyways, long story short its interesting & basically a "same!" to your tags 😅
hi anon, thank you!!!!! and yeah re: the socially acceptable comment, i think it goes hand in hand with the standard-but-incorrect assumption of “a sober person is sober because they or a family member is an addict”. so it was more taboo to mention sobriety because it would imply this history. we’re getting to a point now, at least where i am, that this immediate connection is slowly dissipating so it’s more of a “no thanks i don’t drink/i don’t want to drink now” vs “here’s a very personal part of my backstory”.
i haven’t looked into this myself (and i imagine covid kinda skews these values a little bc parties weren’t a thing for a few years) but gen z is shaping up to be the most sober generation. i don’t know if this is a chicken-egg situation—are we more sober bc there’s less stigma or is there less stigma bc we’re more sober—but either way i think seeing that choice made intentionally in media would be really good to see. hell, in my tags i said i was sober (there’s more nuance to it but it works for this instance) but i don’t say that in real life. instead, i just get non alcoholic drinks when asked. this is mostly still because saying you don’t drink still feels a bit like a big reveal and i think seeing a similar situation on a large scale show might help normalize it a little more.
#thank you anon :) it’s nice to know i’m not alone and i’m happy no one’s giving you too much grief about it)#(some additional stuff a little to the side of this convo:)#i also grew up in a ‘you don’t want to drink/smoke/get high? no worries that’s more for me! do you want some pop?’ type of group so no one#ever cared#even now the only reason i don’t say it explicitly is because my friends have seen me drunk/tipsy in the past (again nothing bad i just dont#like it) and i don’t really want to explain it. but they also don’t bug me about it when i don’t drink#idk i just find it an interesting situation and one that isn’t unique but also isn’t talked about widely#(also adding from my original post that bobby’s own struggles with addiction would likely play into buck’s decision and i’m not ignoring#that; just moreso stating that the average 911 viewer likely wouldn’t connect that and a sober buck would seem out of left field)#anon#ask#thanks again anon!!!!#a.txt
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DPXDC prompt. Adult!Danny x Sleep-deprived!Constantine: We seem to have a misunderstanding.
Warlock was willing to admit that the Phantom’s company was mostly useful and not unpleasant. Because of the specifics of his work they had to meet quite often. It was nice to be at least a little sure that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the back. The new ghost king seemed to be amused by the World of the Living and that was quite useful. In addition, the Infinite Realms had a history of endless conflicts with Hell, so when demons was messing with him, Phantom was happy to put sticks in their wheels.
However, the current enemy of the League was another alien. Both John and Phantom happened to be nearby. But it seems ghost had no reason to help Hellblazer now, as this fight had nothing to do with his kingdom. Given that Batman had explicitly instructed John to stay on the battlefield, it seemed that if John Constantine wanted to count on a weekend, he would have to use his trump card now.
Constantine: In view of the urgency of the situation, I would like to make a proposal. Life offers many challenges. I know I can meet them if you're willing to face them with me. In the spirit of saving time..[holding up a ring] This is for you. You in?
Phantom: I..I don’t know, John. I mean i want to say yes but It’s all so sudden. Please gimme some time to think, okay? And let me help to deal with these invaders first and then we’ll talk about it.
John: ..Sure?
~~~~~
Tucker: Whoa crazy battle dude.
John: Civilians are not allowed here.
Danny: It's all right. We were going to meet at a cafe, but now, well, there is no cafe. I mean, he's with me and not so civilian, okay?Ehem..John, meet my best friend Tucker. Tucker, meet my..Em, this is John, and he's kinda my John. It's new for us.
Damn. He was in a hurry and offered more than he should have. It turns out the ghost had an interest in protecting the city. It is unlikely that he would allow the destruction of the place where one of his humans lives.
And worst of all, Phantom did not accept the ring (for which John had to hunt for several months) as payment. Constantine got it specially in case he needed a favor or a way to calm the anger of the spirit he was starting to get along with. Like, really, John spent a fair amount to own the artifact which would have neutralized the consequences of wearing a ring of rage. But Ghost didn’t want it? Why? And yet he helped. So John was in debt.
And how it's all at a bad time. The peace treaty and the treaty of cooperation between the States and the Infinite Realms was concluded only recently. Of course John didn't even have time to discuss the terms of their deal because the blushing ghost flew away to fight but to say that he won't pay for the service is like admitting that you want to start a new conflict. Constantine was starting to have a headache. He'll think about it when he gets at least a couple of hours of sleep. Whatever payment the ghost needs, it can wait a couple of hours.
~~~~~
But as it turned out, the ghost couldn’t make up his mind and decide what he wanted from him. He started showing up at John’s place and looking at him thoughtfully, also recently dragged him to pick out a suit. How he could be mistaken for a stylist John did not understand but preferred not to unnerve a potential ally.
Moreover, for some reason the chaotic creature decided that he had the right to condemn John for always forgetting to have dinner or take a bath. This scoundrel dared to lock him in a bathroom with strange scented candles and colored water. Whatever these bath bombs were, dumb spirit failed to poison him but now John smelled like peaches. Disgusting.
After breaking down the door he found the same mess with candles on the kitchen table. Phantom fought a fierce battle with the green goo in the pot that he brought to John's house, but eventually gave up and they ordered delivery. All in all, it was a pleasant evening. Of course John didn't admit it but for some reason Danny decided that he could make such a mess every Friday.
~~~~~
Danny: So..me and Morningstar are friends now. Do you mind? I know you don’t get along very well.
John: Why should I care? Your friends are your business. Considering you’re crazy about the stars I’m surprised you’re not sleeping with their maker.
Danny: Hell no, Lightbringer is great. And I’m glad he’s sharing with me what I wouldn’t find in books but I would never cheat on my partner.
John: Good to know. (Wow, who knew the Phantom has a lover.)
~~~~~
Morningstar: I have no idea what you see in this arrogant man, stardust.
Phantom: I don’t know. It’s interesting to be around him. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And his determination and sarcastic nature are really charming.
Morningstar: Well, I’ll get rid of some of his contracts for your wedding but only because I like you and not because I’m willing to deal with this liar.
Phantom: Thanks, Luci, you’re the best.
Morningstar:That’s true. But it's not free. I need you as a babysitter to keep Spawn busy while, well, Detective and I are busy.
Phantom: No problem :)
#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc crossover#dpxdc prompts#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#dcxdp#have no idea what this ship name is.help?!#danny x constantine#dannyxconstantine
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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 7)
*Series taglist is closed.
angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: none aside from what's in general warnings
____
You don’t want to wake up. It might be a new day, but yesterday’s fatigue still seeps into both your bones and brain, like a hangover without the fun of drinking. And it’s Saturday, which means you can’t sleep in until Yoongi leaves for work. You might have melted into his touch last night, but now that you’re a lot less hazy and emotional, the events of yesterday cause a resurgence of anxiety in your stomach. His last sentence rings crisp in your ear.
You’re my best friend.
Best friend yet he couldn’t have one proper conversation before berating you in front of everyone? Your fears keep growing and rumbling inside, fears that he does hate you, and that the only reason he’s sticking around is because of his mother’s bills—just like he stuck around for his old boss. Did he see you the same way he saw him? If he could work under someone like that for years and put up with it…what’s to say he wasn’t just putting up with you? Saying whatever he thinks you want to hear?
And there’s also Taehyung and Hoseok—getting mad at them feels equivalent to kicking a puppy. Well with Hoseok, you’re more disappointed than actually angry. You really wish he hadn’t lied like that, but your heart hurts thinking about how much he’s been through to get to that point.
All you want to do is stay in bed all day and avoid the aftermath of last night, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing until you hear the little knock at the door.
“It’s unlocked” you mumble, rolling over to see who it is and what excuse you have to make to not leave your bed. In peaks a mop of light brown hair, timidly walking in wearing a rather messy apron.
“I made breakfast, everyone else is at the table already.” It’s not the chipper tone he had yesterday morning, but rather a jittery one.
“I’m not in the mood to eat.” You pull the covers up, hinting for the boy to leave. But he stays right there, making tiny noises with his feet as he nervously shuffles from one foot to the other. You pull the cover down to raise a brow at him.
“I said I wasn’t hungry Jimin.”
“W-we just want one last meal with you…please.”
“Last meal? What are you talking about?”
He looks like he’s ready to cry at any moment. “We all know you want us gone as soon as possible…a-and we don’t blame you! Just one last meal before the shelter, please?”
Shit, you’re going to have to get out of bed after all.
___
It’s clear everyone uneasy around you, dodging eye contact as you sit at the table. Yoongi’s the only one who meets your gaze, but now you’re the one looking down at your omelet instead. It’s clear whatever was “resolved” last night was a just temporary band aid for a much deeper wound.
“This isn’t working. Things need to change.”
They wolves nod half-heartedly, knowing exactly where this is going.
“You guys can’t just assume that I’m going to ship you off to some shelter the second I’m mad. It makes me feel like I can’t even be angry without scaring you, and that’s not fair. I should be able to be upset without feeling like the asshole here.”
It takes a few seconds of mechanical nodding before your words actually sink in, causing them to look up and around in shock, mentally asking each other if they heard that right.
“We can stay? Even after last night?” The Alpha has to hear you explicitly say it before his packmates get their hopes up.
“Yes Namjoon. No one’s going to any shelter, even after last night. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad at Taehyung, because I am. That book was very important to me, and he shouldn’t have been so careless,”
The guilt is still fresh on the wolf’s face, and it’s clear he wants to apologize again, but the words are stuck in his throat.
“and Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.”
“Yes, absolutely! I-I’ll be honest. I’ll be good!”
“You don’t have to be good. You’re not being evaluated here. No one’s sending you away for being ‘bad,’ but rather we all need to be accountable for when we mess up. That’s how things work here, everyone clear?”
All six hybrids are quick to respond, each feeling lighter after knowing that this isn’t their last day here. It’s Namjoon who your words leave the deepest impression on, the word accountability being played over and over again. It’s a word he likes. Punishment is for pets, but accountability? That’s for people.
Taehyung’s thoughts could not be more different.
Punishment is familiar. He knows how to bite down and stay still with each hit, knows how to cope with the binder clips on his tongue, knows how to huddle up and ration warmth every time he’s locked in the time-out room, but he has no clue how to do what you’re asking of him. He probably knew before the lab, right? But those memories feel like years ago, even if it’s only been a few months. All that’s really clear in his head are the commands and the punishments, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to toss him in your wine cellar with no food for a week. He doesn’t say anything though, not wanting to ruin the mood now that everyone else can finally breathe around you again.
“This omelet is heavenly. I’ve never had one seasoned in this way. What’s in it?”
Jimin beams at the mention of his omelet, listing off spices and vegetables at the speed of lightning.
“It’s actually Jin hyung’s recipe! Hyung, tell her how you came up with it!”
The oldest’s ears go red at the attention, and he laughs shyly before telling you of his experimenting ways in the kitchen. Your little praises in between only cause the redness to deepen, until his ears are the same color as the tomatoes diced into today’s breakfast.
It’s once again Jimin and Jin getting the attention. Getting to talk to you, be praised by you, and not have to spill eight thousand apologies. Caretaker hybrids who don’t mess up every task they’re given. Suddenly the omelet is leaving a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth.
___
“I want to apologize again.”
You let him in, closing the door.
“I just really wish you would’ve talked to me before jumping to conclusions. Did you really think I was capable of that…in the two years that you’ve known me?”
“I just—I didn’t know he could lie. Didn’t know it was possible with all those fake hormones in him…thought he had to be honest all the time or some shit like that…so I lost my temper, and I know how wrong it was of me. I really am sorry y/n.”
“If what you said was solely about me and him then maybe I could have chalked it up to some big misunderstanding, but that’s not all that happened, and you know it. The shit you said about servants and yes-men…being tired of coddling me…I know those words came from somewhere inside of you. That’s what hurts.”
He combs his fingers through his hair in frustration, saying nothing. The longer he’s silent…the more your anxieties turn into rage, defense systems on high alert.
“Oh, so I’m right? Spit it out.”
“Y/n.”
His eyes are pleading for any way out of this conversation, but you’re not having any of that today.
“No, say it. Go ahead, stop coddling me, as you’ve been doing all this time apparently.”
He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you again, room silent enough to hear both of your hearts beating.
“Going to work yesterday…everyone was in such a good mood. It was the first time since I’ve began working at Shin Investments where the atmosphere felt so…light?”
You wish you hadn’t asked. In fact, you wished he rather punched you in the gut than say what he just said.
“I already know everyone at work hates me, Yoongi. Might as well bring my grandmother’s book back out if today’s all about rubbing salt on existing wounds.”
“It’s not about that y/n. I’m not trying to hurt you, but you need to hear it from someone. The way you act at the office…it puts everyone on edge. And no I don’t think it’s wrong when it’s the board members we’re talking about, because I know how sleazy and cunning they can be. But the receptionists? The interns? The wait staff at the office restaurant? All the people that are just trying to do their jobs? What about all the times you’ve humiliated them? Or worse, fired them right on the spot for one thing you didn’t like?”
You can’t help but cross your arms, needing to feel protected in some way, even if it’s only words attacking you.
“Do you think I like being the bitch? You of all people know I don’t go home and laugh after making someone else cry. I thought, because of your old job at least, that you’d understand to some extent. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. I’m stressed every day about my father coming out of retirement, or someone on the board becoming the major stockholder, or five hundred other things that could go wrong. So I’m very fucking sorry if I need to play the bitch to keep things under control.”
“I don’t know if that excuse is enough anymore.” It’s barely a whisper, more to himself than you.
God you just want to be swallowed by the carpet right now.
“What?”
“It isn’t enough. It used to be, because yes I did do shitty things under my old boss and yes I thought I had no right to judge anyone else because of that, but I got out of there y/n. At some point I stopped making excuses and feeling sorry for myself and got out of there because I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. And I know you can do better, that you can change too.”
“You…you don’t get it…”
You don’t get that the second I let my guard down, they’ll all jump at me like piranhas. I can never be the soft, sweet person you think you can fix me into.
“and honestly you shouldn’t even be working for me anymore. It’s more obvious than ever that you do hate me, so just turn your resignation letter to Minhyun and move out of here. The less of me you see the better.”
You’re about to open the door to make him leave, but a hand on your shoulder halts you.
His gaze is softer, as is his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, not away from the company or you.”
“If this is about your mom’s bill—”
“It’s not. I don’t hate you, and I do think of you as my best friend. Which is why I want us to figure this out together instead of running away from it. Look, I’m not saying you can’t be mad at me. I know I deserve it for blowing up the way I did, and I’m going to keep apologizing and making it up to you until you forgive me. But the things I’m saying right now, it’s because I care about you…a lot.”
___
Accountability.
The word completely fills Taehyung’s brain as he paces a hallway in god-knows-what part of the ginormous house. Searching by scent is what finally gets Namjoon to track down the fretting wolf. Taehyung doesn’t even notice, too busy letting his anxiety gnaw away at him. It’s only when Namjoon blocks his pathway does the younger wolf look up.
“Oh, hi hyung.”
“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”
Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,
“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”
“Sorry Alpha.”
He flashes a warm smile, dimples working overtime to try to soothe his packmate’s nerves.
“It’s alright pup. I know how stressed you are.”
“I just—I just don’t know how to fix the mess I’ve made, and I want to burst out crying every time she looks at me now, but I can’t because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to get out of it by crying either. I just don’t know what to do.”
Namjoon pulls Taehyung in, tucking the wolf under his chin.
“You’re not alone in this. I’ve been thinking about different ways you could make it up to her, and I think I know one. It’s not perfect, but it might make her less angry. And it involves something you love to do.”
Taehyung pulls back to look up, brows raised all the way up in curiosity. Namjoon wastes no time in coming up with the game plan, telling Taehyung exactly what materials he needs to gather and what he needs to do. He watches fondly as the younger wolf’s expression becomes much more cheerful, hope coming back into his eyes.
“That might actually work! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!”
He doesn’t forget to plant one kiss on his Alpha’s cheek before running away excitedly to start his task.
“Careful! Don’t run!”
Namjoon can’t help but laugh at the way Taehyung only barely slows down.
Okay, one down. One more to go.
He knows his conversation with Hoseok isn’t going to end in smiles, because he has no solution to offer his hyung. Only apologies. The wolf is sitting out in the garden, zoned out in front of your flowers, when Namjoon’s presence pulls him back. He takes a seat too, taking a moment to admire the flowers before speaking up.
“I owe you an apology.”
It’s clear that’s not what Hoseok is expecting to hear.
“You do?”
Namjoon nods, “I haven’t been doing the best job at being your Alpha lately.”
“That’s ridiculous, you’re the best Alpha our pack could have.”
“I’m not talking about the pack, hyung. I’m talking specifically about you. I haven’t been the best Alpha to you. You were hurting all alone and didn’t even feel like you could tell me the truth, and I know it’s my fault. You always seem so…put-together…so self-sufficient y’know? A lot of the time I just let you do your thing and focus on the other members instead. But I see how wrong that is of me. You need to be taken care of just as much as Taehyung or Jimin or anyone else, and I’m going to make sure that happens from now on.”
“I’m sorry too, for lying, and for bottling everything up. I know it’s hard to be my Alpha, I’m not the best at showing when something’s wrong the way the rest of them are. It’s really not your fault though.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”
The two stay on the bench for a while, eyes darting between every bee that the flowers draw in.
___
“It’s Jungkook. Can I come in?”
He opens the door at your approval, taking in your distressed features.
“Um, I can come back later.”
“No no, I’m fine. I was just answering some difficult work emails,” you lie through a smile, “What did you want to see me about?”
He pauses to fish something out of his pocket, looking victorious when he holds up his little notepad.
“I finished Extraordinary Attorney! I wanted to fill you in like you asked!”
If there’s anything that can even remotely soothe your hurting heart, it’s the sight of an excited Jungkook flashing his more-bunny-than-wolf teeth.
“Now’s the perfect time, come, sit.” You motion next to you and he wastes no time cuddling up to your side, bursting with excitement to tell you every plot point. He walks you through everything: dancing through revolving doors, an extensive history about whales, and a handshake he insists you try with him. You don’t even notice two hours pass as you’re laughing and invested the whole way through.
“Thank you darling. I really needed this.”
He preens at the nickname, snuggling closer into you.
“Hard day?”
“Yeah, and it’s only eleven a.m.”
“Is it because of Tae and Hobi hyung?”
“More about Yoongi if I’m being honest.”
“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you last night.”
“That makes two of us. But I prefer it to what he said today.”
Jungkook sits up, eyes wide, “He was meaner today?”
“No, just said some things I really didn’t want to hear.”
“Well if you need him to, Namjoon hyung can beat him up for you.”
You throw your head back laughing, the statement even funnier due to his completely serious, deadpan delivery.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
___
He has to be in one of these rooms.
You open one door after another, making your way around from one side of the mansion. You haven’t seen Taehyung since breakfast, and it’s already 4pm now. Namjoon had assured you he was fine when you questioned why he wasn’t at lunch, saying he’d be eating alone today as he had something to do. But what could he possibly have to do? You can’t help but think he’s bawling his eyes out in one of the spare rooms, feeling too bad to eat or talk to anyone. Yes, you want him to have some sort of remorse for what he did, but the thought of him being miserable brings you no satisfaction.
You’re about to check another room when Namjoon quickly makes his way over, putting himself between the door and you.
You give a questioning look, “Is Taehyung behind that door?”
“Yes, but please don’t go in.”
You examine his face, becoming even more confused. There’s no concern in his eyes, making you think the caretaker hybrid isn’t crying on the other side of the door.
“Why?”
“It’s a surprise. Could you trust me on this? Please?”
He knows it’s a risky ask. You could easily laugh at his face, making it clear that humans and hybrids operate on commands and obedience, not trust. There’s nothing stopping you from giving a direct command for him to open the door right now.
You mull it over in your head, concluding that if Taehyung was in any sort of trouble, Namjoon would look much more stressed right now.
“Alright. I won’t ask.”
The Alpha can’t help the little smile that peaks through. He can’t help but feel as if he’s being a little greedy, pushing the boundaries of what autonomy you’ll allow him to have—but it’s so tempting to desire more, especially thinking back to how different things were at the lab.
Instead of turning around to leave, you decide to ask him to come out with you. You need some fresh air, but being alone with your thoughts is not something you’re sure you can handle at the moment.
“Do you want to take a walk with me? It’s not a command so feel free to say no.”
His face lights up instantly, “I’d love to. It’s a really nice day.”
The two of you make your way over, making a quick stop at your closet where you remember the new jackets you’d bought for them. You pull out a long maroon one, perfect size for the tall wolf. In another life, he would’ve been a model with legs that long. You smile as he checks himself out in the mirror, really feeling the outfit it seems. Just as you’re about to reach for the front door, a timid Jin stops both of you.
“Where are you guys going?”
“Just out for a walk.”
He looks at you with concern, so you elaborate.
“We won’t take long, and Yoongi’s here if you need anything.”
“It’s not that…”
There’s a moment of silence, neither you nor Namjoon understanding what the problem is.
Until you follow Jin’s gaze…all the way to Namjoon’s neck.
Fuck.
You forgot one of the strictest hybrid laws:
Owned hybrids must be collared and leashed when out walking in public areas.
It seems Namjoon has this realization a couple seconds after you, face going from confident glow to despondency in a second.
It’s a crisp wake-up call. A reminder how stupidly naive his dreams of becoming independent all are.
At the end of the day, I’ll always be seen as a pet.
“I…I forgot...I’m so sorry Namjoon. We don’t have to go.”
He shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. I’d still like to go.”
He tries to hide his disappointment as best as he can, standing firm. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with his feelings—an Alpha isn’t supposed to make anyone worry about him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Do you have a collar and leash?”
You nod, admitting to have the items makes you feel like you’re guilty of a heinous crime.
“I got them for each of you when I was shopping…just in case anyone wanted to go out.”
It’s the truth. The only reason you got them was after reading up hybrid laws, making sure to keep some in case they ever wanted to go outside. But that doesn’t mean it feels right saying it.
Namjoon shivers as you click the dark blue collar around his neck, contrasting stark against the white bandages underneath. You notice the way he stiffens as it’s on, but he assures you each of the twenty times you ask him if he wants it off. It doesn’t hurt against the wounds perse, more just uncomfortable friction. The real hurt is to his ego at the thought of being collared again.
At least this one doesn’t have needles. He tries to find the glass half full.
You miss the conversation Jin and Namjoon are having throughout the ordeal. It’s not with words, but rather their eyes. With Jin asking his packmate if he’s sure he’s okay, and the Alpha lying convincingly enough for Jin to drop the subject.
___
It’s clear you’ve never done this before with the awkward way you’re holding the leash. If you’re feeling this way, you can’t imagine how much worse it is for Namjoon—how humiliating it would feel to be walked out in public in this way. You’re trying to think of any solution, maybe wrapping your scarf on him and tucking the leash in under his jacket…but that would only make things worse. Namjoon is, as clear as day, a wolf hybrid, and there’s no doubt a fleet of cops would come at the slightest alert of a wolf who doesn’t look leashed.
The streets are relatively empty today, but the few people you do pass try to walk past Namjoon as quickly as possible.
“Thank you for coming out with me. I’m sorry it has to be like this.”
He gives a small smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, “It’s okay. It’s not like you make the laws.”
The two of you walk silently for a while, both lost in your own thoughts while pretending to look around and appreciate the scenery. You’re the one who breaks the silence—quite abruptly.
“What do you do when your pack doesn’t listen to you?”
Namjoon looks caught off guard for a moment, before processing your question.
“I find the cause of why they aren’t listening. They aren’t the type to act up because they can. Once I figure out the reason, I can get them back in line.”
“They’re never too stubborn?”
“Not typically. They respect me and the hierarchy enough to know better,”
Inherent respect. Must be nice.
“but that’s just part of it” he goes on, “the main thing is that they know that everything I do is with their benefit in mind.”
He’s quick to notice the sour face you make at that sentence.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” you sigh “I just don’t think I’ve been doing that last part pretty well.”
It sucks to admit, but it is true that you can get a bit narrow in your focus when it comes to work—only thinking about how to benefit yourself.
“I don’t always get it right either. If it’s any consolation, you’re doing it pretty well when it comes to the pack and me. You’ve shown us more compassion in three days than we’ve seen in three months.”
Your eyes soften. It does console you a bit, reminding you that you are capable of compassion—that you aren’t a complete lost cause. You ask the next question plaguing your mind.
“Are there ever times when you have to lead them even though they aren’t happy with you?”
“Oh plenty of times. I’m constantly telling them things they don’t want to hear.”
“And when it feels like it’s all falling apart?”
“Then I have to change my approach.”
“What if you’re not the problem?”
He stops for a moment, bending down to admire a particularly beautiful flower in a patch of grass.
“Most things are my fault. No matter which packmate messes up, it can nine times out of ten be traced back to some way I failed to communicate with or lead them. And even when it’s not, I still need to step up. That’s just how it works when you’re trusted to be the Alpha.”
There’s a pregnant pause as you soak in his words, before letting out a frustrated groan.
“Leadership. That’s what you’re describing. And accountability. Can you believe I lectured you all about it this morning only to be so shit at doing it myself?”
“It sounds like you’re trying. You wouldn’t be asking me all this if you weren’t.”
“How do you know exactly what to say?”
“Lots of practice with five very different wolves” he smiles.
“You’re an amazing person Joon. I hope you know that.”
It’s almost overwhelming. Your sweet words, the loving nickname his pack uses, being called “person” instead of “mutt.” The collar and leash serve as a reminder of servitude and ownership, but the way you talk to him goes against everything they symbolize. Everything feels so conflicting. Will the two of you ever truly be equals?
____
A/N: My brain is kind of mush today so nothing more to say than I hope you're week is going well.
Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g
Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele
#bts hybrid au#bts hybrid x reader#poly ot7#ot7 x reader#hurt/comfort#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#unnatural instincts
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Spoilers!
TW! A rant. Mentions of S@ and Abuse
AHEM! Alastor apologist (and apparently now partial defender) to the rescue!
This post is for anyone switching up on my guy after the newest episode. And the switch up originates from that one scene, you know, the scene below.
(EDIT: Sorry for the random censoring lol, I don't feel like going back to edit it and its an old habit of mine).
Yeah, we all know this scene. Basically the one where Alastor lashes out at Husk.
Immediately after seeing this scene I had TWO different reactions, in which consisted of “wow that was cool” and “people are going to twist this, aren’t they?”
And people did! So here I am!
I’m basically going to show a bunch of reactions and concerns to said scene that I disagree with and then I’ll say why!
1. “Alastor is like Valentino!”
Don’t even say that. PLEASE NO.
I like to think that I’m pretty good at letting my liking for characters go the moment that I realize they’re wretched in specific ways, but this never occurred for Alastor.
You wanna know why? Because he is NOTHING like Valentino apart from the fact that they’re both overlords who carry soul contracts. I don’t think I really need to pick apart their personalities because we can already tell how different they are.
The only reason why the two were “grouped” together was because Husk and Angel were stuck in situations both caused by soul contracts and an overlord which caused the two to be mentioned alongside each other.
2. “Husk’s relationship to Alastor is EXACTLY the same as Angel and Valentino’s!”
Nope. Both relationships, admittedly suck, trust me, I’m not discounting either relationship or saying “ok well one has it worse than the other”.
But come on guys, the relationships are not the same. Alastor sucks to Husk, obviously, considering he is forced to do his bidding for who knows how long? But there’s obviously a fine line between the two relationships.
There’s parallels of course, with the chains and the soul dealing. The situations aren’t completely the same but they have similar sources so parallels are bound to occur.
Valentino is an abusive ass whom frequently physically and emotionally abused Angel and Alastor (from what we’ve all seen) can be a jerk who drags Husk into clearly many “favours” such as working at the hotel and possibly many more considering he’s clearly met more of Alastor’s colleagues and friends before.
They’re both forced into things and with their souls under contract, they can’t do much about it. But the things they’re forced to do are significantly different. Once again, this isn’t me saying anyone has it better, because it’s not a competition.
But the relationships are not the same. The two are brought in for significantly different things. Do you really think Alastor is s3Xua!!y abusing Husk whenever he’s brought in? Yeah, no, me neither.
Do you think he’s mentally abusing him too, or that a situation like what was displayed occurs often whenever Husk does come in? Because no. Didn’t you see how startled Husk was? This clearly wasn’t just an average event that happened between the two frequently and the fact that Husk was willing to push Alastor’s buttons a bunch in the first place just shows that he wasn’t expecting it to happen either.
And for the people so insistent on Alastor abusing him like that. I suggest you hide your weird k!nks better.
3. “Alastor tortures Husk frequently!”
Okay and what gave you that idea? Was it the way that Alastor lashed out? Because he didn’t lash out of the blue as you may think.
Husk pushed his buttons and Alastor got angry. Trust me, I love Husk but he played a stupid game and got surprised when he won a stupid prize.
Considering Alastor abusive after pulling Husk to the floor is strange. Trust me, if he was supposed to be abusive, it would be explicitly showed throughout the episodes. And before you say “well it was implied”, I really don’t think so.
And once again, Husk was clearly extremely startled, which means this probably doesn’t happen very often. Which also discounts you all considering him to be similar to Valentino, who displayed hurting behaviour frequently.
Like the most we’d even seen interaction between the two was in the pilot and the recent episode. I think we’d get more display if there was more violence occurring in the relationship.
4. “I used to like Alastor before…”
Then what? You realized he was evil and did evil things? YEAH, he’s bound to threaten someone here and there.
Like if you don’t like him after witnessing his literal evilness then sorry to say, you never liked him in the first place.
I’m sorry for this guys but seriously. You can’t switch up on an evil character for doing evil things. He’s going to threaten people. Just know that when he does, it doesn’t signify he’s abusive or assaults Husk on a daily basis.
#hazbin hotel episode 5#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#alastor haters are gonna make me cry#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin alastor#rant#angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin husk
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i cannot be your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost. and what it cost now that we don't talk.
because pushing her away was easier than having to stomach seeing her be with someone else.
author's note/s: 1k words. this is part one of a series. close friends to sad strangers to surprise college roommates is a trope, right?
Ignoring Hazel for the rest of the year wasn’t an easy decision or any easy thing to do. You two weren’t attached at the hip but you were such good friends that even the people who didn’t really talk to either of you eventually asked if you two had a falling out. We’re both just pretty busy at this time of senior year, you’d tell them; you had no idea what Hazel’s answer was to that, and you didn’t wanna know. It hurt you to ice her out but after what happened at the game, you just couldn’t be around her. Not when it was clear that PJ was in the picture like that.
Really, you should’ve been happy for her. You were one of the first people she came out to and even though she never explicitly said it, you knew she wanted to experience one relationship, or even a sort of fling, before high school ended. But your wishful thinking that it could’ve been the two of you in the end like some cliche really was just that — wishful thinking. That kiss and the way she and PJ acted around each other after said it all.
So you blocked it all out. Joined some clubs to fill up your schedule and actually make you as busy as you said you were, focused on academics like never before, got closer to other friends (for obvious reasons but also, why the hell not? It was senior year and you might not see some of them again). Overall, there were pros to what you decided to do about your crush on Hazel Callahan. You were making the most out of a sucky situation.
What you weren’t proud of was deciding to go out with the baseball team’s captain on a whim, and then agreeing to really date him after. He was nice and was a pretty good boyfriend, but you weren’t as into him as he was into you. But that was the least of your concerns throughout that relationship that inevitably came to an end as graduation neared.
You’ll never forget the complicated look on her face the day he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek at your locker. You’ll never forget the ‘Can we talk now? Please?’ text she sent that night, her last attempt at reaching out before she took to ignoring you too.
And that was it. Hazel wasn’t part of your senior year until its end and you assumed it would be the same for the rest of your life, or at least for a long, long time.
But the universe just loved playing cruel tricks sometimes.
“Okay, you’re sure you’ve got everything? Those new notebooks, your writing materials, enough bras and pa—”
“Okay, mom!” You cut her off with a nervous laugh, silently thanking god that your roommate and whoever was helping her move in hadn’t arrived yet. “I’ve got it all, I promise. It’s okay for you to go now.”
Your mother sighs as she reaches out to give your arm a squeeze, and after a few more pointers for your first day and about five ‘you can always give us a call for anything’ reminders, you were alone. You smile to yourself as you look at your fixed up side of the dorm, jittery in a good sense. Everyone said college was different from high school in the best way and you were determined to make it so. Even though you knew how much busier and hectic life would get with university level academics.
You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door open. It’s only when that painfully familiar voice says your name that you snap out of it.
Hazel Callahan, practically the same as ever, standing in the doorway with her luggages and a duffel bag across her body. She manages a smile, small and hesitant. To your surprise, all you can say is, “You’re my roommate?”
Her face twitches in disappointment, smile faltering noticeably. You didn’t mean for that to come off the way it clearly did but the question escaped you before you could think. Of all the people in the world — or even just of all the people in high school, it just had to be her? You were over Hazel. You’d tried so hard and honestly haven’t thought about her much at all since graduation.
Only for all that effort to feel like it was undone within seconds. Fantastic.
“Trust me, I… I didn’t know this would be the arrangement. My mom’s got an old friend here who could probably do a room switch for one of us — I mean, for me I guess, you’ve already got your side of the room fixed up while I’m still all packed, so—”
You put a hand up to stop her. “Hazel, it’s fine. We can share this room. All that stuff from…” You let the sentence trail off and clear your throat. “I mean, it doesn’t matter anymore, it never really has.”
Though expecting her to brighten even slightly at your attempt at an olive branch, her expression stays the same. Complicated actually, like the one she had upon seeing you and your (short-lived) senior year boyfriend for the first time in school. You try not to think about it.
“Anyway, I’ve got some things to go check with the registrar’s office, so I’ll get out of your hair so you can unpack and all that.” There was nothing to check with at the registrar’s office, but you needed to find some place that wasn’t your dorm to pull yourself together. Or maybe scream.
There’s a look of understanding on her face but shakes her head at you. “You wouldn’t be in the way. We could use this time to catch up. It’s been a long while, you know?”
Well, you certainly weren’t ready for that, so you just say something about wanting to get to the office while it wasn’t too busy yet. You cast her a side glance with a smile that you really hoped didn’t look forced or fake as you watch her bring in her things, then make a beeline for the door.
But you stop when she asks, “Hey, um, maybe we can sit with each other at the orientation tomorrow?”
“Uh… yeah, sure.” And you knew that didn’t sound forced or fake with the way Hazel almost grins at you.
Yeah, you really needed to find a place to scream somewhere on campus.
#hazel callahan imagine#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan fanfic#hazel callahan
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Why is Pixane So Queer?
Some thoughts on Asexual Romance.
[warning, long post below the cut]
The Ninjago fandom had a very potent reaction to The Quest for the Lost Powers repeatedly describing Pixal and Zane as being 'very close friends'. This seemed quite contradictory to many who assumed the confession of undying love at the end of the last season might have been a small hint at a romantic relationship of some kind. However, after closer examination, it turns out Pixal and Zane don’t ever actually refer to themselves as a couple, and the show has never once referred to them being in an active relationship.
But there’s something here, right? Sure, it’s not explicitly stated, but you are lying to yourself if you can watch them and tell me there is zero romantic subtext going on here. A lot of people got very defensive that the children’s book stated they were friends, especially when it also seemingly confirmed that the much straighter straight boy ship, Kailor, was apparently canon, despite being only implied as a possible future for ages now. But I find this backlash to be a bit strange. Sure, Zane and Pix aren’t exactly ‘just friends’ but, what do you want them to say? That they’re boyfriend and girlfriend? You want these two to say they’re ‘going out’ with each other? You think these two robots are ‘dating’ each other, like they’re just susin’ out the partner pool. Are those the words that fit this relationship to you?
I found myself feeling weirdly offended at everyone, and I think the reason was that these two love-droids haven’t chosen to define their relationship in traditional terms, and so everyone’s insistence that they should be boxed into some sort of traditional term seems inherently strange. It’s like when two elderly people are dating, it feels weird when they say “this is my girlfriend” because despite it being factually true, there’s so much baggage that comes with the word, part of that implication being youth, which is directly at odds with the immediate situation. It’s the correctness of the word paired with the incorrectness of the societal implications which forces you to assess if those societal implications should exist. And that- that is what makes this relationship feel queer. That’s why there’s this undeniably different kinda energy radiating off of it. It’s that rejection of the traditional labels, the refusal to be put into a box, which forces it to be a-typical. But, why? Why does Pixane have this rejection of labels radiating off of it? Their ages, while being literally whack, are presented as being your typical teenage to young adult age romance. Their genders present as a typical hetero pairing. And it’s not like they don’t follow your typical cliche love at first sight plot. I mean, Pixal was pretty explicitly created as a generic love interest character. So, what is it? Why is this queer? Spoiler alert: It’s because they’re asexual.
So, what is asexuality? Strictly defined, it is a community of people who experience little to no sexual attraction to anyone. This is distinct from aromanticism, which is a lack of romantic attraction, and sexual engagement or urges which are their own separate boat, but often have overlap with asexuality. However, for our purposes, we are focused on just the sexual attraction part. You can think of it as the difference between finding someone hot and finding someone cute. That’s the distinction that made it click for me anyway.
Now, as a disclaimer, I am not going to be considering other queer interpretations of this relationship. Not to invalidate them, because of course they’re valid, but specifically because I feel there isn’t precedent for them in the text, and I feel there is for asexuality. This deep dive is particularly about validating asexuality as being queer, and so to do that we have to eliminate any other outstanding factors. People are extremely quick to pin asexual queerness to something else, and that in itself can feel invalidating, even if it’s only attempting to validate other communities as well. Asexual romance is so easily read as straight romance, that any queer undertones have to have an alternate explanation, because asexuality doesn’t seem like enough to cross the barrier. Yes, enby interpretations of Pixane are great, and fantastic, and I would die for your right to follow those headcanons, but to pin the in text queer vibes on the fact that they technically don’t have biological gender, despite having very clear presenting and unwavering genders in text seems like a real easy way to dismiss the asexual coding which is staring me in the face. While things like non-binary or aromantic readings validate communities who have immense oppression and are continually called fake or confused, which is insanely important, asexuality, especially as it stands apart from aromanticism, is often confused as not being a difference at all. You’re just pure! You’re just wholesome! You’re just so sweet and innocent! And yes… yes, I am, but also, it’s more than that. It’s fundamentally something different about the way my brain is wired, and I feel a need to defend the fact that it, specifically, is queer. And in no way am I trying to say that the aces are the most oppressed actually, I don’t want to start the oppression Olympics here, and if we were to, I would probably argue quite the opposite, but I am saying that there is oppression, and it comes from outside and inside of the community, and it is a thing. It’s a different flavor of thing that’s maybe not as severe, but also sits differently. Maybe it’s not as much a pressing thing as other things, but… it’s my thing. It’s what I feel. It’s something I can speak on. So, I’m going to speak on it.
Perhaps one of the largest factors asexuality has to offer is the necessary separation of romance and sex. The packaging of sexual attraction and romantic attraction is so ubiquitous that the term ace is often assumed to be referring to aro/ace people, despite there being a term for that… aro/ace! Asexuality is not an easy queerness to explain, precisely because of this deeply held integration. It’s not a difference of experience necessarily, it’s a lack of a certain experience. I’m not saying this is something you can’t understand, because, unless you’re aromantic, I know you understand it! You are going to be able to like and relate to and feel seen by asexual romances, because the main component it requires is that you have romantic attraction- which is most people. And so many people get confused when you point to an asexual thing and go “I get that! This! This is me!” Because they just respond with “You’re not special, I get that too. Is this supposed to be different?” And, yes, it is, primarily because everything else includes this giant other thing as well, which is sexuality.
When vegans get excited about finding a meal which is especially delicious and also meets their food restrictions, they get particularly excited. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that same vegan meal- no doubt it probably tastes incredibly delicious to you as well. But you likely won’t get that same feeling of excitement, because you don’t live under the same restrictions as vegans do. That’s the same thing I feel when I see an asexually coded romance. I can enjoy the full meal without having to pick things out or ignore vital parts. I have no doubt that others can thoroughly enjoy asexual romances, but you’re going to have to look at it in context of all the dominant romance stories in the world to understand why it’s so different and special to me.
Now, have I cracked the code on asexual romance in media? No. I only have my own experience with asexuality to lean on, and the very limited discourse on the topic I’ve come across while discovering my identity. All of this is simply a theory based on my own thoughts and observations, but these are some explanations as to what might possibly be included in a framework for an asexually coded romance, at least to me.
So, what makes romance asexual? It’s not simply a lack of sexual suggestiveness. Any number of romances aren’t sexually suggestive, but still glaringly heteronormative- especially in children’s television. And it’s also not a lack of initial attraction, as that would throw Pixane out of the running for sure. Well, I have a few things which I feel may contribute to asexual coding of a romantic relationship, and wouldn’t you know, Pixane is a great example of all of them.
Asexual romance may, as many have remarked, come off as more innocent. When you shove all of the focus of characters onto the romantic, emotional connection, rather than any underlying sexual tension, things end up feeling extremely innocent to the layperson. You get the sort of old married couple effect. Two people deeply in love, who just sort of stare at each other in awe, and that others can comment on how cute they are. Again, asexuals don’t necessarily find anything hot. Cuteness is the main operative factor motivating their attraction, so it follows that their interactions would radiate that factor back at observers. The characters might in fact be very touchy, have sex, enjoy that physical touch, but that’s not at the forefront of anyone’s mind in the story. This is an aspect of Pixane that can be read very clearly. Their romance is quite easily described as pure and wholesome by all who have the pleasure of observing them. The way they interact with each other is extremely gentle and supportive, and their level of old married couple vibes is by far the highest of any pairings in the show (aside from perhaps the actual old married couple of Ed and Edna).
Asexual romance, I find to often be less conflict driven. Take the classic enemies to lovers plotline- it’s built on a tension between an innate irrational attraction, and a perceived logical personality conflict. While romantic attraction is certainly not always rational, from my understanding, sexual attraction is often rooted in factors that aren’t at all related to logical compatibility or personality. This means the enemies to lovers plot is primed to work much better when sexually charged, because it presents a clear path to create the hate/love conflict. Not to say that asexual enemies to lovers is impossible, or that asexual partners don’t have conflict between them, but that it is less of an obvious threat to incorporate into asexual romance. Because there are less factors and layers of attraction to get involved in, there’s less room for conflict and contradiction between them. It is much easier to get tangled up in a situation with more strings. Pixane is a relationship which certainly doesn’t hold much internal conflict. The one disagreement they did have is solved quite neatly with basic communication skills in the middle of season 8. Most of their conflict comes from external factors which separate them or cause misunderstanding, rather than conflict from within the characters themselves.
Asexual romance also has the obvious potential to challenge traditional dating norms. Because there is no impulse to escalate things physically, it makes sense that the progression of an asexual romance would differ from traditional relationships where that escalation is expected. Your asexual romance is bound to get emotionally intense with each other quicker, or at least have it be the focus of their story, because there is no other facet to deal with. Asexuals don’t commonly have sexual fantasies for themselves, but rather romantic fantasies. Not to say that most people don’t have romantic fantasies, but… that’s all we’ve got. And when your impulse is ‘let’s get married, and then maybe I guess we can kiss’, it might seem like things are progressing out of order to the average person. While asexuals don't all hate physical contact or even sexual connection, it isn't an attractive or motivating factor in the same way it is in most romances, so even on a base level, the level of physical contact is likely going to be less than average. Pixane progresses ridiculously out of order. Zane is willing to split his soul for her- it’s only at this point that they romantically hold hands for the first time. It’s the emotional connection between the two that comes first, and all classic tangible symbols of affection and romance that are secondary. The most pronounced physical contact we’ve seen is a cheek kiss, and their most common type of physical contact is enthusiastic hugging (which I’ll dive more into later).
Additionally, because physical affection is more of an afterthought, it would also make sense for labels to come slowly. If you have an incredibly close personal, soulful connection, but you haven’t kissed yet, it makes sense for people around you to assume you’re just really close friends, or perhaps just crushing on each other still. Terms like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” invoke rather physical tactile images, and so to attempt to apply them to an asexual romance isn’t necessarily wrong but may feel a bit off putting because of this dissonance. Again, it’s this dissonance between the romantic meaning of the word, and the sexual undertones which forces discomfort onto the viewer. Pixal and Zane have yet to kiss each other after years of dancing around each other’s obvious romantic feelings. It remains unclear if they even are in an active romantic relationship at all, or are still mutually pinning, as no labels have been given to their relationship in show. I have no doubt part of this is the lack of planned dates or physical affection which are common outward signals of a traditional established relationship.
A lot of the saucy flirting which accompanies many classic heteronormative romances can seem rather pointless to asexuals. I would venture to say that asexuals are likely more direct and up front with their emotional vulnerability and feelings, because that’s the connection which they are seeking to make. To dance around it with innuendo and mind games is rather unproductive in achieving the end goal. There is less of a pressure to “perform” romance, and instead just be honestly romantic, because the romance isn’t a prelude to sex, or physical affection, it’s the end goal in and of itself. To only pretend to do it is entirely pointless. All of this is likely going to result in a romance which puts less focus on the “game of dating”. I mean, can you imagine Pixane ending up in a Jaya style love triangle? It’s almost an absurd pitch to make, right? There is no performativity to the Pixane relationship, it is exactly as it appears at first glance. And when Zane attempts more traditional, cheesy flirting tactics like in Ninjago Confidential, Pixal is nothing but confused and annoyed by his attempts.
The most prominent example which I feel exemplifies the inherently asexual coding of Pixane applies to many robotic romances- and it’s the characters’ relationship with skin. A lot of sexual suggestion and tension is based on skin. The revealing nature of skin exposure, the feeling of skin on skin being a sexual touchpoint, skin is essential to the sexual experience in most instances. This is part of the reason I love writing romance but have yet to write a kiss between anyone. The sexuality of a kiss is inherently uncomfortable to write for me because you’re encouraged to lean into the physical feeling of the touch of skin. Robots bring to the forefront the idea of this physical contact because their skin is often not exactly skin, and that in itself gives a sort of de facto distance from sexuality. There’s a moment which happens repeatedly with Pixane, and shows up in other robotic romances, like Wall-E and Eve, which I feel highlights this essential separation from the skin of sexuality. Pixane and Wall-Eve both have the ‘clink’ moment, in which intimate physical contact is made, (in Pixane’s case, all of their many hugs) and accentuated by the sound of their metal skin meeting with a loud clink. This sound not only highlights their lack of skin but serves to suck any sexual energy out of the interaction immediately and leaves it purely with the romance intended by the action. It’s not uncommon for people to find the sound humorous, precisely because of how desexualizing it is. It highlights the couples’ incapability of indulging in sexual skin on skin contact, and instead the closeness and companionship the act of touching provides.
And this is why I feel robots are in fact a decent candidate for asexual characters if done properly. Robots being coded as asexual can be a very negative stereotype, particularly when their asexuality is explicitly linked to their lack of emotion and feeling- but media about robots has been trending more positively recently. In fact, robots, if used correctly, may actually validate asexuality explicitly. Robotic characters are often used to explore the idea of what makes humanity human. If we give these robots human-like enough traits, when do they become human? Are they perhaps the most human? And it seems like fictional consensus agrees that sexuality is not required to achieve human status. Stripping away the excess human emotions may be part of what makes robots asexual (or aromatic, if your robot is also incapable of romantic love). The medium of robot literalizes the disconnect that asexuals have with their physical bodies, most notably their skin, and serves to put additional distance between the character and sexual contact, at least in the traditional sense. I mean, think about it, if you want your robot to be sexual, you need to go out of your way to establish that it has sexual capability, because no one is going to simply assume that your fictional robot was designed with that capability in mind. Why would it be, unless that was its explicit purpose? In a way, robots are sort of de facto asexual.
Pixane is queer because it’s asexual, and it’s asexual because they distill down only the purely romantic parts of a romantic relationship. They’re able to do this, in part because of their individual characterization, but also because of their robotic bodies, which make the separation between romance and sexuality just that much easier. They highlight the necessity to separate romance from all of the convoluted sexual layers which often accompany it, and so come out feeling distinctly untraditional and subversive.
That's the theory, again, all hyper based on my own personal experience with asexuality, which is of course not all encompassing. I'd love to hear your thoughts :)
#ninjago#pixane#pixal borg#zane julien#pixal ninjago#zane ninjago#asexuality#long one#parachuterants
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Permanence
->Wilbur Soot x Reader (hinted but never explicitly stated)
->No use of Y/n
->I tried to be as gender neutral as possible.
*Hurt, minimal comfort, hopeful ending
TW: Su*cidal ideation, Self destructive thoughts and actions, SH mentions/references, depression, lots and lots of depression.
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Summary: You are stuck in a multi-month long depressive episode, and it's gotten so much worse. You're on your last leg, and you need someone to help you. Good thing best friend(?) Wilbur and his band are there to help :]
Word Count - 2.4k
Wilbur Soot. Twitch streamer turned famous musician, heartthrob—you get it. He’s everything anyone could want in a partner. Trust me, I would know. He’s been my best friend since form. And since then, he’s only ever been kind and considerate and just overall an amazing person.
What a guy right? With his stupid brown hair that covers one of his eyes when it’s outgrown. Stupid brown eyes that have just the right amount of dark and light brown in them. It’s stupid of me really, to ever hope for a future with him that involves us being more than friends. I can only hope though, right?
He’s up there, in the states, singing his heart out on a stage. While I’m stuck, on the other side of paradise–more like purgatory–lamenting on how many people adore him. I’m feeling sorry for myself, rotting away in bed at 2 in the morning. It’s not like I have to work in three hours–whaaaat nooooo…
A knot develops in my stomach at the mere thought of leaving my bed. Maybe losing my job isn’t so bad. Wilbur has told me time and time again he’d pay me to edit for him. But I could never make him do that. Never would I take advantage of him like that. I’d feel like more of a burden than I already do. The thought of him having to support me financially makes me want to vomit. It makes my skin crawl, so it’s okay if I waste away. If I end up rotting away in my bed. It’s fine. At least then I wouldn’t be able to consume too much of Wilbur’s time.
Taking up too much of his time has always been my biggest fear. To me, it came true a long time ago and I’m finally reaping what I sowed. It sucks really, how I thought I'd have a shot. Just for it all to blow up in my face. Now he’s somewhere in America–having the time of his life. Good for him. Bad for me.
Reaching over, I grab my phone. My coworkers probably hate me. I keep asking them to cover my shifts so I can rot in bed for another day. It’s been like this since–September? It started off just once every few weeks. Now, it being almost December, I’ve not gone to work in over two weeks. What’s the point anymore anyways? I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. Deep down, when I started doing things for myself–I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. That was two years ago. I guess I’m finally breaking.
Pulling the duvet over my head, I try not to think about how my breath smells, and the uncomfortable way the oil sticks to my face. I shove my head into the pillow. Trying to block out the sounds of people existing below my apartment. It’s so much easier to rot away when people don’t rely on you. When you have no reason for existence.
I don’t want to die. But at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, so I lay and wait. I wait for some omnipotent being to strike me down and judge me for how I’ve managed to mess up any and all relationships I’ve ever had with anyone.
Me and Nikki haven’t spoken in almost a year.
Me and Wilbur haven’t even seen each other in months
My family doesn’t talk to me.
I wish I could say “The world is fucked and everyone hates me.” But that’s not the truth. The truth is I am my own undoing. I have destroyed everything I’ve worked for. Any relationships–platonic and romantic–have fallen through because of my own emotions and insecurities getting in the way. It’s not fair for anyone. Well, anyone except for me. I brought this upon myself.
My phone is the only thing lighting up my face. I looked at the time. Suddenly it’s six in the morning, and I’m late for work. The thought makes me want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t tell if it’s apathy—or dehydration.
I call my boss. She answers. “Where are you?! I haven’t seen you in weeks! I’m worried about you hun, do you need me to call someone?” She opens, sounding both relieved and shocked I even called.
I clear my throat the best I can, swallowing saliva feels like eating sandpaper. “I uh..I was calling to let you know I won’t be coming back. I’m quitting. And I’m sorry for not putting in my two weeks. It’s not–” Something foreign is bubbling up in my throat, I force myself to swallow it down. “-It’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry.” I whisper, hanging up shortly after.
I feel terrible for worrying her. I feel terrible for upsetting her. I feel terrible. I am terrible. I’m a parasite. I always have been. Mooching off of others in order to help myself get by.
My thoughts fall back to Wilbur. I’ve been mooching off of him for however long we’ve been friends. I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to be my friend to keep me alive. But at the same time–I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look myself in the mirror and tell myself it’s me. I can’t. I’m not the person I thought I’d become. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m useless.
My phone rings again. I go to decline it, I can’t.
Wilbur’s face greets me. His contact photo, the two of us at the amusement park I helped them film for Tommy’s vlog channel. We’re smiling. His arm over my shoulder, and my head on his arm. I remember that day. Wilbur held me for a bit while Tommy and Phil were off filming a different part of the vlog with Russ. I was overwhelmed and so was he, so we took the time to chill by the snack stands. He got tommy cotton candy, and we split popcorn even though he couldn’t really taste it. We spent a good time just taking funny pictures with each other. I remember that day, it was a great one.
Tears breach my eyes before I can stop them. A sob ripping through me, I force my face into the pillow to muffle it. The ringing stops. My tears don’t, and that makes me feel so much worse. My chest convulses as my sobs reverberate through the room. I’m a mess. I’m laying in my bed, rotting. Wasting away and feeling sorry for myself.
Everything is terrifying, every breath I take reminds me of how I’m alive. Reminds me of how I can’t escape the feeling of impending doom that washes over me. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die.
I was never permanent.
I knew I couldn’t do this. I’ve been lying to myself, little lies, white lies. To convince myself everything was okay. That it was fine for me to fall in love, it was fine for me to believe I wasn’t just taking up space. That I wasn’t slowly getting tired.
Contemplating whether or not cut myself some slack–but ending up just cutting myself loose.
I lift the duvet from my head, staring at the ceiling. My eyes flick to the ground, clothes and food everywhere. Some of it’s moldy. It makes me feel worse about myself. Turning my head, I look to my PC. I should sell it. Someone else would be much happier with it. I haven’t used it in a while anyways. I can’t take care of any of the stuff I have can I?
My phone rings again, this time I do answer.
“Oh my god–” I hear multiple people take a sharp breath in. I can’t stop myself from making a small noise of confusion. “Hey..Your boss–called us.” I recognize the voice to be Joe. I lift the phone, checking the caller ID. It was Wilbur again. “Wil—?” It hurts so bad to talk, I haven’t used my voice this much since the end of October. I hear a choked noise and whispers. “We’re gonna—come over there okay? The tour ended last night, no gigs for a while. Wil’s been missing you y’know.” I can’t tell who said that, “I–no. Sorry.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I hung up either.
Maybe deep down I did want them to help, I do want their help. But logically–It’s for the best.
I swing my legs over the side of my bed, cringing at how my clothes hang off of me. My back hurts something awful. I’m so tired.
Yet I stand on two feet and walk to my bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize them. My hair–too long and too oily for it to be mine. My skin is pale and the bags under my eyes are so dark they could rival a racoon.
It’s then that my legs decide to give out. I can feel my knees split as I hit the tile. I’m so tired. I look down at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s one of Wil’s. I can’t remember when I put it on. I can’t remember a lot of things recently. Like when this got so bad. Or when my arms started to sting.
My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad.
When I wake up it’s to voices around me. I’m laying on something warm–It’s moving. I can’t find it in myself to open my eyes.
My breathing picks up, and I hear an intake of air accompanied by a hand on my forehead. My eyes are shooting open in fear before I’m trembling. He’s above me, looking down at me like I could break.
I look around, there's two other people. I can barely make them out. Joe and Ash.
It’s hard to think. It’s so hard to think.
“There you are..” Wilbur whispers, his pointer finger gently stroking my cheekbone. “What happened to you love?” I can’t tell if it’s his tone, or the fact he looks so broken. But I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my body from turning into him, hiding myself away.
Embarrassment filled me, they’d seen it all. The moldy food, the dirty clothes. They probably saw the abundance of mail I'd gotten as well.
People are walking out the room. Not Wilbur, he stays. He stays and makes me look at him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna help you shower, and they’re going to clean and get you food. Okay?” My eyes widened. I shake my head so quickly it hurts.
His face falls, he looks down at what I’m wearing. His face falls even more. “Love…” He whispers. “I don’t–I can’t. Don’t make me.” I whisper. Wilbur wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “No. You’re going to get clean, eat, and then you will sleep for however long you need to.” He lifts me like I’m nothing.
He sets me on the toilet, turning to the tub and turning on the faucet. He waits for it to get warm before he’s plugging the drain and helping me get undressed. He brushes the hair from my face, he frowns at the sight of the back of my head. He looks down at my arms before I can see him clenching his jaw. “We’ll work on the matts too.” He picks me up again, placing me in the tub and going to shut the door. He grabs a towel from the cabinet, as well as a washcloth. He swipes the comb from the counter.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but whisper. He sighs. “I know. But it’s alright. We were worried about you.” Was all he said before he’s dousing my hair in water. He keeps a hand on my forehead, stopping the water from getting into my eyes. And with that, he applies conditioner and starts to de-matt my hair.
An hour and countless tub refills later, my hair is de-matted and I’m clean. Feeling slightly better too. Wilbur gave me the crewneck he was wearing for comfort, before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room to grab other clothes.
The sounds from the outside are a lot less foggy now. I can hear the boys outside bickering and talking.
“Are they okay Wil?”
“What happened?”
“From your face, I can tell it wasn’t good.”
I can’t help but stand weakly, the towel wrapped around me. I look in the mirror. I look a little more like myself. I touch my face, I look pale. I am pale. My hair is a bit longer now. I don’t smell bad anymore. I do feel better, but I can’t help but think I’m making Wilbur do this.
Wilbur reappears, he looks at me and smiles. He hands me the clothing he picked out before leaving the room once again, though he stands just outside the door.
I dress quickly. Slipping on Wilbur’s crewneck once I have my shirt on. I walk out, giving Wilbur a small smile. “You uh–You didn’t have to do this.” He takes my hand and leads me through my now clean apartment. “I did. Because if I didn’t–If we didn’t, you’d be dead right now, or you’d have killed yourself soon.” He says, sitting me down at the table that’s been cleared off. “Now, be honest. When is the last time you remember eating something?” He asks.
My face drops. That’s the thing–I can’t. “Uh–Tuesday?” I say, like I even know what day it is, his face falls. “It’s Friday.” He deadpans before going into the kitchen, he comes back with Ash, Mark, and Joe. They each have both in their hands. Wilbur has two.
“It’s just soup. Easy on the stomach.” Joe pipes up before sitting on my right, Wilbur sits on my left, and Ash and Mark sit across from me. “We don’t need to talk about things right now, no one is going to make you. But you need to talk to someone soon. Maybe not us, but someone.” Wilbur said, putting his hand on my knee.
“Yeah. I think I can do that.”
They smile, I eat my soup, and for the first time since September–I feel permanent.
#wilbur soot#fluff#wilbur mcyt#wilbur#angst#x reader#wilbur soot x reader#Wilbur Soot x Reader angst#wilbur soot x y/n#wilbur soot x you#heavy angst#hurt/comfort#Minimal comfort#lovejoy
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God every time I watch episode 37 it feels like repeatedly getting stabbed in the gut with a knife. Utena asking Akio out on a date because now that she knows what he’s doing to Anthy she tries to keep him away from while also taking off the ring in place for the sweater Anthy knitted for her. And Akio somehow not getting the hint that she knows who he is. What he is.
Anthy saying all girls are like the Rose Bride before taking Utena’s hand, knowing that despite both of them trying to keep Akio away from the other they’ve both failed and Akio’s abuse has changed both of them.
Saionji and Touga being honest with one another about how they feel and seeing each other as allies rather than rivals, while letting Akio believe that Utena is still completely under his spell.
Anthy echoing what Akio said a few episodes earlier, how she wishes she and Utena can be friends forever and her unchanging slight resigned smile as Utena rips up the letter because, regardless of what Akio thinks, she will choose Anthy and herself over him every time. Because choosing Anthy is choosing the moment she changed her destiny from that of a princess in need of rescuing to a prince. Choosing Anthy is choosing herself.
Juri, the only other explicitly sapphic character who gave Utena the sword to “take back her self”, forcing Utena to confront the fact that she and Anthy are not just friends and that Utena doesn’t even have the words to describe their bond.
Everyone, but most evidently Nanami, believing that Utena is still naive to who/what Akio and, more importantly, Anthy are while she gives them all a knowing smile without actually answering.
Juri and Miki admitting that Utena has caused a revolution for each of them too and that they have been able to change thanks to her.
The Shadow Girls saying they really are “true friends” before kissing paralleling Utena’s inability to truly answer Juri’s question about her feelings towards Anthy.
The car scene showing that, despite everything, Akio has to work harder than ever to keep Anthy under control, and even then it’s still slipping.
The iconic cantarella scene. No words are possible. That scene makes me feel so many things every time. All I’m going to say is that it’s Anthy’s final attempt to try to make Utena run away from Akio, but instead Utena shows she’ll stay no matter what.
And following this, Anthy choosing that, no matter how much pain she’s been in, Akio’s abuse of Utena was the last straw and she would rather die than let it continue. Because if not for her, Utena has no reason to continue down the path towards revolution. And if she can’t make Utena run away she has to try the only other thing she can to free Utena from the duels.
“Whoever believes in true friendship is a fool.” “Didn’t you know? I am a fool.”
Both Utena and Anthy choosing to confront Akio: Anthy through taping the letter back together, Utena by putting on the ring.
Not to mention the fact that this idiot pedophile honestly believed that Utena would choose him over the girl she’d been fighting to protect the entire time, for longer than she even remembers.
No piece of media has ever made me feel the way this specific episode does and I don’t think any piece of media ever will again.
And no piece of media will ever make me absolutely loathe a character the way RGU does with Akio. I have never had a villain turn my stomach the way he does.
#rgu#revolutionary girl utena#shoujo kakumei utena#sku#I swear this show is going to be the death of me
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Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.
I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them.
So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.
I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about.
Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.
“I don’t do families.”
“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”
“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”
“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”
“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]
The entirety of The Lodger
“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”
The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?
Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die.
“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”
This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’
This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.
Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact.
Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.
“This planet is protected.”
“Christmas has a new sheriff.”
For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it.
“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”
“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.”
There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death.
Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.
Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation.
“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”
The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library.
The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head.
While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.
The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.
So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?
The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.
Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.
Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments.
“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”
Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why.
“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”
But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that.
Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.
“But you’re fine.”
“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”
15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe.
But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it.
Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time.
She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness.
“Doctor! You can stop now!”
“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.”
“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.”
“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”
Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.
Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”
Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind.
That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.
And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping?
“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be.
#doctor who#doctor who spoilers#fourteenth doctor#donna noble#dw meta#dw spoilers#doctor who meta#meta writing
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The House
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader x Steve Harrington
Summary: A test of courage to spend a few hours in the Creel house on Halloween night turns into something else entirely.
Word Count: 9148
Content Warning: 18+ mdni. Fingering. Hand jobs. Oral (m receiving). Deep throating. Face fucking. Unprotected sex (P in V). Overstimulation. Swearing. Alcohol use (they drink a beer). Eddie and Steve kinda have a “good cop, bad cop” thing going for a bit (don’t know if that’s worth a warning). Never explicitly stated anywhere, but this takes place after graduation so Reader is of age. And please let me know if I missed anything!
Notes: A day late! I can only apologise, but this fic was a lot and only got longer and longer so that’s my excuse. This is my first time writing Steve in a smut fic so fingers crossed I’ve managed to do him justice🤞🏻
Beta read by the magnificent @mylifeisactuallyamess. Thanks again! ❤️ Any remaining mistakes are all mine.
Even now, as you walked up the steps to the front door, you still felt that same rush that you did when you were a kid.
Everyone in Hawkins knew about the old Creel House. The place where Victor Creel killed his entire family in a horrific way that didn’t seem like a human could have been capable of it. People avoided it like the plague and it was almost as if the whole town was waiting for the walls to finally crumble and turn to dust so they could forget that it ever even existed.
“Scared?” Eddie’s grin is wide, bordering on demonic because he was ever the showman. “We can still go back.”
“I’m not scared,” you retort. “Are you?”
“No,” he replies instantly. “It’s just an old house. Its only occupants are probably spiders, mice and bats. Nothing to be scared of.”
You didn’t believe him.
Every kid in Hawkins had gone through the same rite of passage on Halloween night.
Small groups of kids would gather on the sidewalk in front of the house and watch as someone from their group would walk to the front door, knock, stand there for at least thirty seconds before hightailing it back to his or her friends and the process would repeat itself until everyone had done the same thing.
You had managed to do it when you were ten years old, but only barely. It was different now that you were older and wiser and knew that there was nothing to be afraid of.
It was just your mind playing tricks on you, making you believe that every shadow was a lurking demon or that every time the old wood creaked that it was the dead children of Victor Creel out to get you, forever stuck in the old house.
The reason that you were here now was because of one of Eddie’s dumb ideas. He had practically dared you into going to the old house on Halloween night, not just knocking on the door, but actually spending some time inside, too. He probably thought that you’d be too chicken to do it, but you had surprised him by saying that you’d be game.
The days leading up to it had been spent trying to put the other person off from going through with it. Citing various urban legends that surrounded the house, with the murders coming front and center obviously. Neither of you would be deterred however and that was how you found yourself standing in front of that door right now.
In a way you couldn’t quite believe that you were dumb enough to actually go through with it, half expecting that the floorboards would snap in two underneath you the second that you set foot through the door, but it would be worth it simply to wipe the smile off Eddie’s face.
It took him a short while before he managed to get the door open and the hinges creaked loudly when he slammed his shoulder into the old wood.
“Ladies first,” Eddie says with a bow and his arm gesturing into the dark house.
“You pussy,” you mock and then you step inside. When you turn around, he’s still standing right there on the threshold, staring at you wide-eyed. “Are you coming?” You pull your hands into your underarms and flap them around like they’re wings. “Or are you chicken?”
“Pfff. No way.” He straightens up immediately and takes a couple of large strides into the house until he’s standing a short distance in front of you. “Was just waiting for you to chicken out.”
“Yeah right,” you counter. “I could see the look on your face, you know.”
“Sure you could,” he huffs. “Come on. Lets explore.”
It was even creepier on the inside than outside. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. The furniture had been left behind, picture frames hung askew on the walls or had fallen to the floor entirely, curtains hung in tatters on the rails, wallpaper was left to peel off the walls and the paint, which had probably been vibrant one day, had dulled over time.
Eddie had brought a couple of flashlights and while he wasn’t really illuminating much apart from his face by holding it underneath his chin almost the entire time, it did work brilliantly by making you focus more on him than on your surroundings.
Leading you into the back of the house, the both of you came to a standstill in what had probably been a study at one point or another. Some of the planks that had been put in front of the windows were missing and the pale blue moonlight was filtering it. It cast the space in an eerie glow.
“This is perfect,” Eddie declares. “We can hang out here.”
“What was the plan anyway?” You run a finger over one of the windowsills and look at the caked dust on the pad as you bring it up to your face. “You never were clear about that.”
“Nothing apart from drinking a couple of beers,” he shrugs.
“Huh,” you look around the space once more. “You just wanted to sit on the floor? Your jeans will get dirty.”
“I have a blanket in the van.”
“Of course you do,” you sigh. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me.”
“I sleep in there sometimes,” he responds.
“Sure, Eddie. Is that why you have condoms in the glovebox too?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Again.” He gives you the finger and you roll your eyes. “You wanna come with me and get the blanket and the beers?”
“No thank you,” you reply quickly. “I’ll wait for you right here.”
“Right here? You sure?” He actually sounds worried and you were somewhat sure that he wasn’t taking the piss. “You don’t have to act like a badass just to impress me, you know.”
“I’m not!” You step closer to him until you’re close enough to nudge his shoulder. “Just be quick, alright?”
“Fast as the wind, babe,” he says with a wink. “Promise.”
A shiver runs down your spine, but not because of the creepy house this time. Eddie flirted with everything that had a pulse, but it still made your heart flutter when he called you by an endearing nickname.
Eddie whistles as he walks off, some tune that you can’t quite place and that you highly suspect is from some random horror movie seeing how it sounds a bit sinister. You can hear him off in the distance, on the porch right outside, then on the path, until you can’t hear him at all anymore.
Now that Eddie had left you on your own, you weren’t so sure if you could handle it. You had merely told him that you could so he wouldn’t make fun of you (not that he ever would) and you were regretting it now.
It was as if every part of the house creaked now, as though the walls were talking and were telling you to get the hell out of here, but you couldn’t. Your legs were frozen in place, unable to move. You brought your hands up to your chest, feeling your heart beat furiously inside your ribcage and you took in a deep breath in the hopes of making it stop.
It didn’t work.
If anything it only felt like more adrenaline was being pumped through your system, triggering even more feelings of fear. You found yourself wishing that Eddie would come back soon, to have him fill up the silence by cracking dumb jokes, anything to pierce through the silence of the house. If your mouth had been able to move, you would have called out to him, but your jaw was clamped tightly shut.
When you feel a hand touch your shoulder, your entire body jolts before you breathe a sigh of relief, and you almost say the name of your friend as you turn around and find yourself staring straight into a Michael Myers mask instead.
You scream. It’s louder than you have ever screamed before and seconds later, you curl in on yourself, hands wrapped around your body and rocking back and forth on your heels.
The voice that answers isn’t Eddie’s voice and it barely even registers who was underneath the mask when he pulls it off, crouches down in front of you and tries to get you to calm down.
“Hey, hey,” Steve says softly before saying your name a few times. “Jesus Christ. Relax. It’s just me.” By this point, you’re crying and you can see the horrified look on Steve’s face over how badly wrong this prank even went. “Oh fuck. Please calm down.”
But you can’t.
So Steve does the only thing that he can think of doing.
From out of nowhere, he suddenly presses his lips down on yours and he keeps them there until you eventually reach out, tangle your fingers in his shirt and sigh. He pulls away slowly and you blink a few times just to make sure that he was really there.
“Okay now?” You nod and Steve smiles at you as he wipes your tears away. “Jesus, I didn’t even know you could scream that lou- Ow!” You slap his chest suddenly. “What was that for?”
“You scared the shit out of me, Steve!” When you try to hit him again, he grabs your wrist instead to ensure that you can’t hit him again. “Can’t believe that you’d do that to me!”
“It was Munson’s idea,” Steve jerks his head back to the doorway where Eddie stands, blanket and six pack of beer in his hands and staring at the two of you, his expression unreadable. “He thought that it would be funny.”
“Not funny, Eddie!” You flip him off. “Why would you even ask him to do that? That’s such a dick move.”
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles before walking over to where you and Steve were, spreading the blanket out next to you and sitting down on it. “Shoulda seen your face though,” he says, but there’s no real amusement in his voice. It just feels a bit… empty.
He pulls one can of beer from the plastic rings and gestures at you two to take one as well. You and Steve share an awkward look and then you join Eddie.
Instead of listening to Eddie’s voice as he fills the silence with all kinds of stories, you find yourself listening to Steve talk instead. He talks about work and Dustin who had come in to ask for the scariest movie that they had, which Steve had to deny him on account of his age. He recounts Dustin’s reply word for word and you laugh until your sides hurt.
Eddie is uncharacteristically silent. He keeps looking at you and then at Steve, biting his bottom lip and looking down into his can of beer wistfully.
Eddie had planned the whole thing out.
Steve would scare the crap out of you and then Eddie would swoop in, acting all heroic, you’d fall into his arms and then he could finally tell you exactly how he had been feeling about you for a while.
Instead, Steve had completely stolen his thunder and had ended up kissing you instead. Suave bastard. Leave it to King Steve to ruin everything.
Maybe he should have asked Dustin to scare you instead, but since he had other plans Eddie had never asked him about it. Instead opting for Steve because he didn’t have a date for once in his life.
Now he’s forced to sit there as Steve makes you laugh and he hates that he even feels this way. Eddie had prided himself in the fact that he has never once been jealous of Steve, hell, he really liked the guy too, but he sure was green with envy now.
Steve throws a couple of odd looks in Eddie’s direction as well, as if he was silently asking him what the fuck he was doing and why he wasn’t joining in with the storytelling because Eddie was far better at it than he was, but he got nothing back in reply.
“Oh, Steve!” you suddenly exclaim. “Didn’t you have to get that thing?”
“Thing?” He looks confused and honestly, anyone would have. “What thing?”
“You know,” you hiss and your eyes dart over to Eddie until you see some spark of recognition bloom in Steve’s expression. “That thing.”
“Oh, ha, yeah,” he mutters, unconvincingly. “Now I remember. So I guess I should uh… get it huh?” You roll your eyes at Steve’s sad attempt at acting. You’d think that he would be somewhat better at this. “The thing.”
“Yeah, you should.” You pull on his arm to drag him in closer so you can whisper in his ear. “Give us a couple of minutes, alright?”
“Sure,” he replies. He gives your shoulder a stiff pat and gets to his feet. Steve can’t seem to resist giving you and Eddie a weird thumbs up which he follows up with the immortal words, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids.”
A groan escapes your lips and you mouth the word, “Go,” at him until Steve leaves the room. You look over to where Eddie is still sitting, unmoving like a statue, and you can’t help but feel sorry for him. You really needed to get to the bottom of his sudden mood change.
“What’s gotten into you?” You sidle up close to him and put your hand on his forearm. “You’re so quiet.”
“Nothing.” Eddie couldn’t keep the dejected tone out of his voice and you frowned at him. “Long night.”
“It’s about ten thirty,” you say softly. “You’re usually not in bed until around two in the morning.”
“Yeah, well, I did a lot of stuff today, you know.” It was the weakest excuse that he could have come up with and he hoped that you bought it. “Had to help Wayne with some stuff around the trailer.”
“Hmmm,” you hum in reply and he can tell straight away that you don’t believe a single word that he’s saying. “Sure.”
“What?” Eddie can’t stop himself from bristling slightly at your reply. “It’s true.”
“No, it isn’t.” You shift until you’re sitting right in front of him, but he seems reluctant to look you in the eye. “Now are you gonna tell me what’s really going on? If you don’t tell me, I’ll just go home.”
That got his attention.
“You can’t leave!” There’s a bit of a panicked look in his eyes, but at least he’s looking at you now. “I’m sorry, alright? But please don’t go.”
“I’ll go if you won’t talk to me,” you repeat once more. “So spill. Tell me what’s up.”
“Alright,” he said with a groan. “It’s Harrington.”
“What about him?”
“Are you for real?” Everything about his tone of voice tells you that he seems to think that you should get it, but you have no idea what he’s on about. You look at him questioningly until he follows up on his question with an annoyed sigh and says, “He kissed you!”
“Yeah, he did,” you shrug, because you hadn’t minded at all. “Is that a problem?”
“Yes! He wasn’t supposed to-“ Eddie swallows his words back down. If he told you what the problem was, you’d laugh at him, of that he was certain. “Eh. It’s eh… he’s lame.”
“No. Fuck off. Don’t do that, Eddie. He wasn’t supposed to do what?”
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. He didn’t have a choice now. He had to come clean. If he didn’t, you would leave and he definitely didn’t want that to happen. “He wasn’t supposed to kiss you.”
“And why not?”
“Because… ‘cause… that’s what I wanted to do,” he eventually mumbled.
“Oh yeah?” In all the time that you have known Eddie, you never once thought that you’d hear him say that. You had dreamed of it, of course, but it’s quite different to actually hear him say it. You actually give the back of your hand a squeeze just to make sure that you’re awake. “You wanna kiss me?”
“Yeah.” He says it so softly that you can barely even hear him at all. “I do.”
“So why don’t you?”
“Wait.” Eddie blinks in surprise. Very much like you were thinking earlier, he obviously hadn’t expected you to say that. “You want me to kiss you?”
“You can if you want to,” you reply shyly. “Just saying.”
“Shit.” He looks at your face more closely, probably to check if you’re being sincere, but there’s no hint of a lie to be found anywhere. “Shit. Seriously?”
“Yeah.” You look down at yourself and pull on a stray bit of thread that came loose from the hemline of your shirt. “Do you want to?”
“Yes.” The thread is instantly forgotten when he says that, making you look back up into his dark eyes. “Yes, I want to.”
You lean forward a little, moving into his space, and Eddie’s eyes widen, surprised that you even want him to kiss you. He leans in, too, close enough for him to count your eyelashes if he wanted to, and being this close is making his heart race.
This was really happening. This was actually fucking happening.
Your lips touch, nothing more than a light brush against each other as you finally make contact, and he finds himself pulling away just a tiny bit, only for you to give chase and pressing your lips back on him with some more force. Your hands move to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair to ensure that he can’t pull away.
Eddie gives in all too easily and your lips press and slide against each other. His tongue moves over your lips, following the crease between them, and you open your mouth to give him access. His tongue dives into your mouth, seeking out yours so they can move together.
You sigh and his hands move to your waist, pulling you in closer until your chests are pressed flush together. Eddie can feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through your shirt and bra.
A loudly creaking floorboard pulls the both of you out of the moment.
Your heads turn as one to see Steve leaning against the doorway, his arms folded in front of his chest, and with an amused look on his face.
“Enjoying yourselves?”
“We were until you interrupted,” Eddie grumbled.
“I guess,” you say with a mischievous grin. When Eddie pinches your arm, you wink at him. “I was kidding. That was a good kiss.”
“Better than mine?” Steve asks as he settles back down on the floor in the same spot where he was sitting before.
“Didn’t last long enough so I can’t exactly compare you guys,” you giggle.
Steve takes a sip from his beer and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He wipes his mouth with his hand and suddenly asks, “You want to?”
The whole atmosphere in the room changes suddenly. The three of you exchange looks and there is a pause as you wait for someone to raise any objections, but nothing happens.
Even the house is silent, like it’s holding his breath as it waits for events to unfurl.
The silence drags on and from the way that Steve is looking at you, eyebrows raised and one corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided smile, makes you realize that you were supposed to say something.
“I wouldn’t mind,” you let slip, speaking so quickly that it almost comes out as one word because your nerves briefly seem to have taken control of your mouth. Steve tilts his head to the side when you give him that as an answer. This was not the time to be flippant. “Yes. I do,” you amend yourself with more certainty.
“Okay.” Steve shrugs with a grin before getting up and sitting down next to you. He brushes some hairs out of your face and his hand lingers on your jaw as he leans in slowly. “Now be sure to tell us who’s the better kisser.”
Kissing Steve is different.
With Eddie there was an underlying sweetness and a hint of hesitation, but Steve kisses you with a lot more certainty. He doesn’t hold back like Eddie initially did and hits you with the full force of what he can do.
You’re reduced to moaning into his mouth within seconds, the muscles in your thighs quivering as every press of his lips goes straight down to your core. Seemingly noticing this, Steve’s hand drops down to your lap, his fingers gingerly brushing over the front of your jeans at first before pressing down harder and making sparks fly from your cunt.
Not wanting to be outdone, you feel Eddie’s chest pressing against your back. He removes your jacket first and then his hands circle your waist momentarily before he cups your tits and gives a squeeze that’s almost too gentle. You mewl between the two boys and your mind has a hard time processing that this is even happening at all.
You pull away from Steve’s lips with reluctance. “What are we doing?” Steve’s lips settle on your neck where he starts creating marks by sucking on your skin. “Are we going to have sex in a haunted house?”
“You wanna have sex?” Eddie attempts to sound scandalized, but it doesn’t help that he’s chuckling and then Steve starts laughing, too. “Such a filthy girl.”
“If I had known this beforehand, I never would have kissed you,” Steve agrees. “You actually want us to fuck you on this old floor?”
“I dunno,” you gasp. “You guys just want to keep touching me like this?”
“Like what?” Steve counters as his deft fingers pop the button of your jeans, pull the zip down and then slides them in. “Like this?” He doesn’t have much room to work with, but his digits slide up and down your wet panties and you push up into his hand. “You’re soaked, babe.”
“Fucking knew it,” Eddie breathes into your ear. “She’s practically gagging for it.”
“You were right,” Steve acknowledges and the pad of his index finger rubs circles around your still covered up clit.
“You guys planned this?” The question spills out of you in between little gasps and moans as two sets of hands keep touching you. Eddie’s lips are on your shoulder, dragging back and forth, and Steve keeps his beautiful eyes on you at all times. “That’s just so-“
“Right?” Steve interjects.
“Filthy?” Eddie says at the same time.
“Unexpected,” you say instead. “I had no idea-“
“I didn’t exactly plan this,” Eddie reveals. “Didn’t get further than kissing you if I’m honest.” You crane your neck, turning your head slightly so you can just about see him. “But I’m not complaining.”
“Me neither,” Steve affirms. “And what about you?” He addresses you now, looks for even the slightest hint of doubt on your face. “You can still opt out. No hard feelings.”
“I could,” you reply teasingly, wanting to keep them in suspense for a little bit even if you were already ridiculously into this. “You guys wouldn’t hate me for it?”
“I wouldn’t,” Eddie’s lips move against your skin as he talks, the collar of your shirt pulled to the side to give him more room to work with. “I’d just be incredibly disappointed.”
“And you?” Your hand loosely curls around Steve’s bicep. His fingers never once stopped working you over, continuing on with their ministrations over your soaked through panties. “Would you be disappointed as well, Steve?”
Worldly Steve Harrington gives you nothing to work with, nothing apart from a smirk, because he already knows what you want. He had seen it written all over your face from the moment that you agreed to let him kiss you again.
You’re so fucking hungry for both of them.
“Fuck it.” You knock your back into Eddie’s chest. He gets the idea and pulls away. Steve merely looks at you with his eyebrows raised when you peel his hand out of your jeans. You take a deep breath. “Fuck. It.”
Getting to your feet, you take a step back and both the boys look up at you expectantly. Reaching down to the hemline of your shirt, you pull it up over your head. You kick your sneakers off and then strip out of your jeans.
So now you’re standing in what was probably once the dining room of an old house, a house that may very well be haunted, and you’re in your underwear. You’re standing in front of two guys, two very hot guys, and you’re about to embark on something that you had only ever dared dream about.
Eddie gets up first and all the uncertainty from before is gone. It’s replaced with confidence now that you’ve made it clear that you are very into this.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath as his eyes rake up and down your body. He cups your cheeks and kisses you with such force that it makes your head spin. “I always had you down as innocent, you know?” You laugh at that. “For real,” Eddie emphasizes. “Because you always looked like it. So sweet and perfect. Silently asking to be defiled.”
“Sorry.” You’re having a hard time not scoffing in his face, because you were far from as innocent as he’s making you sound. “Did I burst your bubble?”
“You’re fucking filthy, sweetheart.” His words make a shiver run down your spine and you swear that it makes you go even wetter as well. “But I never thought you’d be this filthy.”
“Maybe you’ll find out exactly how bad I really am.” Your hands move to his vest, sliding underneath the leather jacket and pushing it off his shoulders until it falls to the floor with a thud. “You want to know what I’m really like?”
“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out and your hands slide over his chest, feeling every muscle through the thin Hellfire shirt that he wore. “What are you gonna do?”
“You’ll see.” You don’t remove his shirt, nor do you tell him to take it off, not yet. Your digits skim over his nipples over the fabric and you see Eddie’s hips jerk forward a little. “I want to make you feel good.” His beautiful eyes were squeezed shut for a second there, but as soon as you start undoing his belt, he looks down. “Will you let me?”
With his belt now hanging open, you start undoing the button of his jeans and then slowly slide the zip down. His eyeballs almost pop out of their sockets when you sink down onto your knees.
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, somewhat unable to believe his luck. You pull his jeans down roughly, down past his knees. When you pull his plaid boxers down, his big dick nearly pokes your eye out. “Oh fuck.”
Grabbing his thighs, you make Eddie turn a fraction, just to make sure that Steve has one of the best views in the house. Your gaze falls down to his hand which is palming the front of his jeans to relieve some of the tension that’s building.
You know for a fact that Steve is packing, it’s all in the way that he carries himself. It is something that is also confirmed by his tight jeans that leave nothing to the imagination. It’s all right there, on display for everyone that wants to see.
Eddie’s just about had enough of waiting and he grabs his cock so he can wipe the ruddy tip over your cheek, just to remind you that he’s still there.
“Didn’t forget you,” you say as you look back up at him. Your index finger swipes over your cheek, to gather the drops of precum that he smeared over your skin, and you stick it in your mouth so you can suck the salty fluid off. “I’d never.”
A potential smartass reply dies in his throat and turns into a groan instead when you finally take his cock into your mouth.
This is as much a show for Eddie as it is for Steve and you start licking Eddie’s cock like it’s a popsicle. The noises you make are over exaggerated, humming and moaning like you were having the best meal in your entire life.
Steve’s hand slides down into his jeans and the way that he angles himself, just about able to wrap his fingers around himself, makes the reddened tip of his dick poke out of the top of his boxers.
You gesture with your hand in an effort to make Steve come closer, which he does. You circle the fingers of your free hand around the base of Eddie’s cock and lazily start jerking him off to make sure that he wasn’t being left out.
When Steve’s close enough, you attempt to push down his jeans, but when you’re only able to uncover part of the trail of hair that goes down into his underwear, he gives you a helping hand instead.
Steve doesn’t work slow. He pushes the fabric down just far enough for his cock to jump out and you audibly gasp when it’s finally revealed. He’s long, thick too, and you honestly can’t wait until he impales you on it.
You spit on the palm of your hand, reach down and lubricate his shaft with your saliva. Then your digits curl around the velvety skin, squeezing once, and then your hand starts gliding up and down his length.
Turning your head back in Eddie’s direction, you take him into your mouth again, deepthroating him to make up for your previous neglect. The noises he makes are a fair indication that he’s more than willing to forgive you.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with your mouth full,” he remarks. “Don’t you think so too, Harrington?”
“Yeah, she does,” Steve agrees. “She can’t give us any lip now.”
“True.” Eddie’s hand moves to the back of your head, just to make sure that you can’t pull away. “Bet you’d like to though, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
You manage to get out a distorted “uh-huh” and the boys laugh cruelly, amused at your current predicament. Though it couldn’t exactly be called a predicament when you were this into it.
Hollowing out your cheeks, you keep moving your mouth up and down Eddie’s cock, mirroring the speed with which your hand was working over Steve’s. Both of them swear under their breaths and their joined moans are like the sweetest music that you've ever heard.
“Such a good girl,” Eddie comments.
“Think that you earned yourself a little reward, baby,” Steve adds. He pulls your hand away from him and you would have asked him why if you could have, but he moves until he’s right behind you so you can’t see him anymore.
Soon enough, you feel him though. One of his hands settles on your stomach and starts to dip down lower until it’s between your thighs. His fingertips move over your panties and come to rest on your mound, his touch feather light and barely applying pressure at all. You whine pathetically and Steve chuckles in your ear.
His free hand moves in, hooking the saturated cloth under his thumb and pulling it away so that your cunt is now exposed to the cold air. He is still hardly touching you, his fingers digging into the top of your thigh, about an inch away from your burning core.
When his fingers finally touch your pussy, you sigh deeply, satisfied that he’s finally touching you right where you want him to.
Steve wastes no time. He slides his fingers between your wet lips, picking up enough moisture and sinks one finger in shortly after. One finger quickly becomes two and he fucks you with his fingers so fast that you can barely keep up with his onslaught on your cunt.
Steve’s erection pokes in your lower back, as a reminder that he’s still hard, his hips gently rocking back and forth against your flushed skin.
Since you’re now too focused on the pleasure that Steve is bringing you, you in turn lose sight of Eddie. Though you could have argued that that was impossible to do seeing how his dick was still firmly pressed into your mouth.
Eddie’s hands grasp your face, his touch far from gentle now, fingertips threading into your hair. His hips advance forward, holding your head still as his cock hits the back of your throat and he starts rocking back and forth.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says in a tone that sounds far from apologetic. “Had to take matters into my own hands.” You look up at him, tears already forming in your eyes, blurring your vision. “You don’t mind, do you?” Eddie relaxes his grip on you slightly, just enough so that you can shake your head a little. “Good fucking girl.”
Steve’s fingers curl up inside you, pressing against your sweet spot, the one that makes your toes curl, and you moan loudly around Eddie’s cock, who can’t help himself as soon as he feels the vibrations from your voice and presses in deeper than before. He can feel the muscles in your throat fluttering around him deliciously.
Saliva bubbles at the corners of your mouth and spills out as you choke around him. You breathe in deeply through your nose, letting Eddie continue to use you for his own needs.
Steve doesn’t let up either, his fingers not so much thrusting now, but more curling and constantly prodding that ribbed part inside. You can feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach, muscles tightening around his thick digits and your orgasm hits you with the power of a freight train.
You would have screamed if you had been able to. Instead the sounds of your sudden climax come out all garbled. Eddie doesn’t grant you a moment reprieve either, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he keeps fucking your face.
The first spurt of his cum hits the back of your throat and you do your best to swallow, to devour everything that he gives you, but when he pulls his softening dick out of your mouth, a little trickle of his seed comes out, mixed with your spit, spilling down your lip and chin.
“What’s this, sweetness?” Eddie notices immediately and his thumb wipes the residue away gently. “You made a mess.” He forcefully shoves his thumb into your mouth. “Suck.”
You do as he commands and your tongue twirls around it, cleaning off whatever leftovers were stuck to the pad of his finger and he doesn’t pull it out until he’s satisfied that you got rid of everything.
“Good girl,” he coos. “Isn’t she well behaved?”
“Very.” Steve’s lips brush against the shell of your ear and the skin on your arms bump instantly. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, too, baby?”
“Yes,” you reply resolutely. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“Even better,” Steve says. “We like that, don’t we?“
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Eddie sits back down, right in front of you and Steve, and he looks on hungrily. “What do you want Stevie to do to you, sweetheart?”
“W-want him to-“
“Don’t tell me,” Eddie cuts you off with a grin, “tell Steve.”
When you turn around to face him, Steve has an expectant look in his beautiful eyes, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you want him to do to you.
“I want you to fuck me, Steve,” you confess, “want you to fuck me real good.”
“Oh yeah?” He reaches out and trails his fingers from your shoulder down your bare arm. You shiver as soon as he makes contact with your skin. “Is that what you want?”
“Y-yes,” you confirm, “that’s what I want.”
“Take off your bra.”
Steve doesn’t just ask you, no, he’s telling you, and you’re willing to comply with his demand partly. You reach around your back and unhook the garment. You hold the cups in place with one arm and slide the straps down your arms with the other.
“Take it off for me?” You bat your lashes at him and bite your bottom lip.
“Sure,” Steve chuckles. He removes your arm from your chest and your bra simply slides off as soon as that happens. “Would you look at that,” he whistles through his teeth. “Aren’t you pretty.”
The urge to cover up is damn near overwhelming, their intense stares are practically killing you, but as soon as you shift your arms, the movement so slight it should have been imperceptible, Steve notices.
“Don’t.” His hands come up to your elbows, firmly holding them in place. “Don’t cover yourself up.”
An apology forms in your mind, but there’s little chance to actually utter it. Steve dips his head down, until he’s level with your chest, and licks a line from between your tits up over your sternum.
His lips start moving over your neck and to the bottom of your jaw, nice and slow, kissing his way up until he can blow air into your ear. It makes you shiver.
“You’re beautiful,” Steve speaks in hushed tones, almost as if he doesn’t want Eddie to hear what he’s telling you. “I always thought so, you know?”
“I didn’t,” you answer. His hand is on your lower back, index finger hooking underneath the elastic band of your panties so he can pull it away from your body and snap it back.
“Well, you are.” He picks at the waistband impatiently. “Why don’t you take these off, too?”
“Gladly.” You reach out, place a few fingers on his thigh and tap his jeans. “Are you going to do the same?“
“Guess I’ll have to.”
It doesn’t take that long until both of you are completely naked from the waist down. It does not escape you that you’re the only one that’s completely naked now either.
“You gonna let me fuck you in front of Eddie?” Steve husks in your ear when he leans in. “Make him watch while I split you open with my dick?”
“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”
“Please? Damn, I love that.” Steve sits back, long legs spread out in front of him and his arms positioned behind. You move in to straddle his hairy thighs and wait for him to make a move, but nothing happens. He flashes you a wide grin and says, “Go on. Put it in.”
Your eyes fall on his massive erection and you can’t help but swallow hard.
Obediently, you rise up, position his cock in front of your entrance and sink down on him. It’s insane how he just seems to keep coming, like there’s no end to his cock, but you’ll be damned if you let him break you.
Not when Eddie’s waiting in the wings to take over as soon as Steve’s done with you anyway.
You keep letting yourself sink down a little bit more at a time, taking inch after inch, until you finally reach the end of him. You inhale a sharp breath as you try to adjust to his size.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” you whine. “You’re in so deep that you’ll be coming out my belly button as soon as I move.”
“Think that you can’t take it?”
“Fuck, you think that little of me?” You grind your hips against his, slowly, slow enough to savor the feel of him. “I’d like to try.”
“Shit,” he laughs. “You’re a fucking dream, babe.” Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his yellow sweater and you pull on it harshly. “Off?“
“Yeah, off.” He pulls the sweater and the shirt that he had on underneath off. As soon as his chest is bare, you run your hands up and down his chest, feeling his chest hair on your palms. You lean forward to lick a stripe up his neck and when you reach his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth and give a gentle tug. “I’m gonna move now,” you tell him.
“Go for it.” He can’t resist smacking your ass and squeezing you roughly when you finally start rocking against him. “That’s it, baby.”
Hanging onto his shoulders, you start riding him. It’s all you now, Steve barely moves, instead looking closely at the point where your bodies meet and how your cunt greedily keeps sucking his cock back in.
Arching your back, you push your chest out and put a hand on the back of his head to pull him in closer until he figures out what you want him to do.
His lips latch onto your nipple, his mouth hot as he sets to sucking gently. You buck up, hips lifting so far up that his cock almost slips out entirely, but you catch yourself just in time and slam back down.
“Fuck, Steve.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on the strands every time that his tongue swipes over your hot skin. “Feels so good.”
“You feel good,” He exhales against you. “So fucking tight. You fit like a glove.”
Finally he moves, angling his hips so he can fuck up into you, and you mewl his name. He rams in so deep that it should have been painful, but the ecstasy that’s budding is starting to overtake all your other senses.
Shoving a hand in between your bodies, circling your clit with two fingers. The combination of his thrusts along with your own assistance are electrifying and you start chasing your release with desperation.
Steve mutters words of encouragement which you barely hear, because of your climax peaks and flows in waves through your body, from your cunt to the tips of your fingers and toes.
Your body goes limp, your head sagging forward slightly, and you need a second to recollect yourself. The only thing that even snaps you out of it is the fact that Steve is still rock hard. Tilting your chin back up, you stare deep into his blown out pupils for about a second before he surges forward.
There’s a sense of urgency in the kiss that he gives you. He’s barely able to press his lips on yours as it is, but Steve still tries. You feel his tongue at the corner of your lips and you close your lips around it so you can suck it into your mouth. He gasps, the kiss turning sloppy again, and he wraps his arms around your waist tightly.
“You gonna come, pretty boy?” He presses his head against your shoulder, teeth scraping over your skin as his thrusts grow more uneven. “Huh? You gonna come for me?”
“Fuck,” he breathes against your skin.
“Fill me up, Steve.” His hips jerk more roughly up into you. “I want your cum so bad.”
You scream when Steve bites down on your shoulder hard, his climax finally hitting him and needing another outlet. The last few thrusts are weak and then he stills entirely. His tongue laps at the mark that he just left, lazily following the outline of his teeth that was already appearing.
“Sorry,” he breathes against your skin. “Couldn’t control myself.”
“Don’t apologize,” you reply and you push him away from your shoulder so you can cup his face and look him in the eye. “That was so fucking good.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” Steve kisses you then and you can feel him smiling against your lips. “So, so good.”
Steve hangs onto you for a bit longer, his arms still wrapped around your waist, unwilling to let you go. You come down from your high together and you’re almost reluctant to let him go, but you hear Eddie exhaling deeply behind you (you don’t even remember him lighting a cigarette) and realize that you have to let go of Steve.
You start shifting a few seconds later, having now entirely caught your breath. Your lips find Steve’s again and you kiss him lazily when you push yourself up, softly groaning when his now soft cock slides out.
“Don’t move.” There’s an underlying sense of hunger to Eddie’s voice and you can hear him move in behind you. “Hold on to Steve’s shoulders.”
With your ass still in the air, you hold on to Steve, whose gaze is fixed entirely in your face. Then you feel a hand on your ass, squeezing, and another one on your slit, fingers sliding in all too easily after Steve spread you open.
“Fuck, it’s leaking out, man.” Eddie sounds impressed as he says that to no one in particular and then two fingers appear in your line of vision. It’s wet with your and Steve’s bodily fluids. “Suck.”
Like earlier, you oblige and start sucking off whatever was on there. The only difference now is that you can feel the tip of his cock prodding your opening. You moan around his fingers when he slides in entirely in one fluid movement.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Told you,” Steve chimes in.
“You did.” Eddie pulls his hand away from your lips and moves it down to lightly grab your throat. Then he pulls back before slamming back inside you roughly. “This fucking pussy,” he groans in your ear. “It’s sucking me right back in.”
“Still haven’t had enough?” Steve places his hand over his heart and pouts at you. “You wound me.”
You don’t answer. You don’t think that you’re able to remember any words at all now that Eddie is plowing into you while you’re practically in Steve’s lap.
Eddie’s ringed fingers squeeze your neck, cutting off your air supply for a split second.
“He asked you a question.” Eddie’s voice is low as he hisses in your ear. “You still want more?”
“Y-yes,” you choke out. “Can’t- can’t get enough.”
“Fuck, sweetheart. Guess I’ll just have to give you what you want then.” The speed of his thrusts increases until he’s pounding into you and reducing you to nothing but a whining mess. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”
It’s nothing short of insane that Eddie is even able to keep up this manic pace at all, the sound of his skin slapping against yours so fast that you can’t keep track, but somehow he manages.
Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, your eyesight glazed over by now. You’re so far gone that you haven’t even realized that you had started crying.
“You’re so pretty like this.” When Steve wipes a few fingers over your cheek, that’s the first time that you notice that your skin is wet. “Are you close?”
In an ideal world, you would have been able to answer his question. You would have been able to say “yes, I’m close, so close.” But nothing except incoherent babbling comes out of your mouth as you nonsensically string words together.
“I’ll give you a hand, yeah?” Steve sounds sweet, that’s about all that registers. Your body jumps when his fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing fiercely. “You’re okay,” he says just loud enough over Eddie’s groans. “Come on. Come for us.”
“C-can’t,” you whine. “Ca-can’t.”
“Yeah, you can.” His fingers don’t stop stimulating your swollen bundle of nerves. “One more, baby. Last one.”
“You can do it,” Eddie grunts behind you. “I want you to squeeze me dry, sweetness.”
Despite their encouragement, you’re convinced that you can’t. You came twice already, the most that you’ve ever climaxed in one night, so you’ve already gotten more than you ever could have wished for.
“I-I sw-swear that I- fuck!”
To say that you’re surprised when another orgasm tears through your body would be an understatement. You imagine that this is what it must be like to be struck by lightning. There’s no part of your body that isn’t tingling. You dig your nails into Steve’s shoulders and drag them down his chest all the way to his hips where they come to a standstill.
“Fuck!” Your walls clamp down on Eddie like a vice and he swears loudly as soon as it happens. “You’re fucking- holy shit.”
You barely even notice how tight his grip on your hips is, but come morning there would be an imprint of his ringed fingers on your skin.
Eddie fucks you straight through your orgasm and since Steve seems to be refusing to pull his hand away from your clit, you start screaming through your teeth from the overstimulation. Every muscle in your body jerks, desperately wanting to pull away, but they won’t let you.
There’s no escape from this and your only choice is to ride it out, to let it happen until Eddie finally pumps you full with his cum as well.
The noises that he makes change subtly at first, changing in pitch, his voice getting higher the closer he gets to his release. Eddie shouts your name, one final push, and then you can feel his warm seed filling you up and joining the mess that Steve left a bit earlier.
“Christ,” Eddie’s out of breath which is all down to how much he exerted himself. “Your pussy is fucking perfect.” His softening cock slides out, instantly making you feel empty. A few seconds later, you hear a loud thud. “I could sleep for days.”
“Insane,” you mutter. “You guys are insane.”
“Maybe, but that was hot as fuck,” Eddie replies from somewhere behind you. “Jesus H. Christ.”
“You trying to tell me you didn’t have a great time?” Steve asks and you briefly meet his gaze before looking away again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.” His hand cups your chin, tilting your head back up until you’re forced to look at him again. “You got a mixture of my and Eddie’s cum oozing down your legs. So don’t act all coy.”
“Wasn’t,” you murmur. “I mean, I wasn’t going to say that.”
“There,” he says, satisfied once more. “Feels good now that you’ve admitted it, huh?”
“I was feeling pretty good before,” you admit.
“Really?” You turn your head to look at Eddie who’s sprawled out on the blanket, his head propped up by his arm. “I hadn’t noticed,” he finishes with a smug expression on his face.
“Thought I was hiding it so well, too,” you joke. “Nice to know you’re not just a pretty face, Ed.”
“Shucks, sweetheart, didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Seriously, have you seen you?” You gesture at him with your hand, as if that simple gesture would be enough to explain what words couldn’t. “You’re a handsome devil. Take it from me.”
It had always mystified you how he didn’t have more women fawning all over him, with his big doe eyes, full lips and amazing hair. And you weren’t even talking about his tattoos.
“Same thing goes for you, Steve,” you say to him, even though you don’t think that he needs the validation. With the amount of girls that were throwing themselves at him for a large part of his high school days, he’s probably been told that he’s good looking plenty of times before. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” he smiles, “I’d much rather look at you though.”
“Charmer.”
“I can’t help it,” he explains. “I see a pretty girl, I need to tell her.”
“Are you giving me the King Steve treatment right now?” You lean in to kiss his cheek suddenly and whisper the following words, “Because you don’t have to, you know.”
“Nah. I wouldn’t dare.” Steve turns his head so he can catch your lips with his. “That was all me.”
“You’re actually making it worse,” you gripe. You nudge at his cheek gently before moving away from him and sitting down next to where Eddie is still spread out on the blanket. You drape your arm over the section of his stomach that’s bare from where his shirt has ridden up. “That’s quite an achievement.”
“I aim to please,” Steve gives you a two-finger Cub Scout salute and a wink which comes across as so cocksure that you can’t help but giggle. He wiggles his eyebrows and adds, “And you definitely look very pleased, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh god, please stop.” Reaching over Eddie, you grab what remains of the six pack and hand Steve a beer, “Here. Now shut up.”
“What about me?” Eddie pushes himself into an upright position and takes the can that you offer him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
A short silence falls over the three of you, nothing to be heard but your breathing and the soft creaking of the house as it seems to come back to life around you. It doesn’t seem as scary to you now as it did in the beginning.
Funny how that changed in a matter of hours.
When you feel Eddie’s hand circle around your ankle, his thumb caressing the back of your heel, you suddenly feel the need to inquire, “Same time, same place next year?”
“Next year?” Eddie sounds nothing short of annoyed that you had even suggested waiting that long. “Fuck that. I want to do that again tomorrow.”
How Eddie can say that when his touch on your leg gets more insistent, his hand already shifting to your calf, making it painfully obvious that he wants to do it again right now is beyond you, but you’re not foolish enough to point it out.
“My parents won’t be home until late November,” Steve helpfully throws in. “So.”
“That’s settled then,” Eddie replies with some finality in his voice, not even waiting for your answer.
They already know your answer after all.
“You guys are going to kill me,” you huff and you try to ignore how Eddie’s hand is slowly moving up past your knee. “Come morning, I’ll be dead,” you say directly to him now, but Eddie simply grins and shrugs.
“Do you mind?” Steve moves in closer next to you and nuzzles your neck. He starts leaving open mouthed kisses all along your jaw and murmurs against your skin, “You can take it. I know you can.”
“I’m not so sure,” you answer, but you still turn your head so you can give him a kiss. You gasp into Steve’s mouth when Eddie’s hand reaches the apex of your thighs. “But I’m willing to give it a go.”
“Attagirl.”
You can’t remember who said that afterwards, but you decide that it doesn’t matter, not when they were gearing you up for another round. Not when there was the prospect of more of this on the horizon whenever you wanted it, but you’d always remember this night, the night when it all started, the Halloween night that changed your life…
#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader x steve harrington#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#eddie munson x you#steve harrington x you#mar writes
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Got pretty annoyed yesterday while discussing the game with a friend (don’t worry, we’re still friends lol). But truly, I got annoyed at, once more, seeing how there are wrong assumptions weaved into the community discourse - things based out of someone’s ass, apparently, that got traction and now are repeated by players as if it’s true. But, of course, if anyone stops 2 seconds to actually pay attention to the game, these ideas prove to be just wrong.
This friend, for example, was mentioning how Astarion and Karlach NEVER agree or disagree together in anything. That’s a lie. I’ve (me myself, so I KNOW firsthand) been screen shooting every time there’s an agreement between them and when there isn’t. There are much more agreements than disagreements between Astarion and Karlach. They do come across as having different alignments, but they think alike MUCH more than ‘the internet’ (or even some devs?!) tend to believe. They might justify their rationale in different ways but they do agree together and disagree together way more than they disagree with each other. So that is something I personally can attest to.
Then I heard the argument that Karlach and Astarion don’t get unique scenes between each other: again, untrue. The tiefling party scene with Karlach, for starters, is the only unique romance scene for Astarion. The only person who has back and forth with Karlach after the paladins of Tyr are defeated is Astarion. They have (out of the top of my head, at least 4 unique short banters while both are in the party - again, more than Karl with any other companion.
Then the wrong assumption Astarion can’t go to Avernus : he can and he goes, both as ascended and spawn if you’re playing origin Karl. Ascended if you’re playing him.
A lot stems, again, from simplistic and shallow interpretations of both these characters’ story arcs and personalities. Others come from prejudice, from passing judgement on their appearance instead of their “content”.
Moreover, though, there will never be as much this x that content if it’s involving Karlach (and worse for Wyll) SIMPLY BECAUSE there is LESS than A THIRD the amount of content for Karlach in ANYTHING.
For some reason writers/devs took a long while to decide to put the work into Karlach and when they did they clearly made a bet that blew in their faces - that she’d be a lesser origin character and that’d turn out alright. But she’s the second most popular character and because people like her, they are paying attention to her story - and the massive lack of work and resources dedicated to her arc. Imagine if she had received the attention in detail and the game time / in game content, say, shadowheart received? Instead of a temple Shar, we went to Avernus? In place of Shar, ZARIEL made a personal appearance? We could’ve gotten a young Karlach flashback cinematic, an extra dungeon in act 3, then a personal quest closure with Gortash instead of SH’s parents, so we’d know what the fuck happened. As someone who can’t give two shits about SH, that would’ve been incredible to play. Half of that would still have been a blast. But we get nowhere near. And I’m only bringing Karlach to attention here as an example - if you look at Wyll (who was the front page origin boy since the conception of the game), the disparity is even more shocking.
I’ve read on a writer’s twitter a while back (can’t remember who exactly so you’ll have to excuse me), that they were the writers for Durge, and for a time they got to write some stuff for Astarion for a bit, due to some task delegation changes and whatnot, and they explicitly said they “managed to put in things specific to their “main” character (durge) in Astarion’s writing” - or something in those lines. Honestly… what the fuck? Not sure if that was the intention, but to me it sounded like someone with their own precious OC, which they are obviously attached to, pushing content in to benefit their “main”. In a game where there are several “mains” and many with glaringly less content than others. Again, in my interpretation of what I read that day, this information came across as the most unprofessional shit I’ve seen - if you are tasked to write someone else’s character, you should act as that character’s writer - not a fanfic writer trying to push a personal headcanon or narrative because it pleases YOU, in detriment of other characters. It was wild at the time and I just kinda… walked away and pretended I didn’t read it. It was just shocking and not the attitude I expected from a serious professional.
Whether that’s the whole truth or not I can’t say, but what I can say is that this left me with a weird taste in my mouth and perhaps that’s why until today I couldn’t finish a single run with Durge despite trying several. There are other issues with Durge for me personally in term of the actual writing of the sentences and the way they were worded that just seems impossible to take seriously. (But I’m trying to get over it still, as I want to experience this part of the game too, so I won’t give any sort of personal final veredict).
Also, the idea that Durge was supposed to be the main character… that’s a new assumption for me and my friend also brought it up. That sounded very sus and I went to read more about it and, of course, that’s also wrong. In previous BG games, we always played a Bhaalspawn. It would make perfect sense we played one again - but the butler shit, the amnesia, the gore erotic fantasies, that wouldn’t fly for the average BG3 player - and wasn’t supposed to. When they decided to split tav to leave the “absolutely neutral protagonist” they parted with the bhaalspawn narrative that was a very big part of the previous games, so I assume they didn’t want to just toss it, but put it to another “dark tav” or whatever shit that means. And then they doubled down with the evil and edge lord of kitschy horror narrative. It’s FINE. But isn’t supposed to be the main character.
TLDR: instead of taking random assumptions about bg3 as yours, pay attention to the game itself. And think critically about it a bit. All the origins are presented AS equals but they’re nothing but. And Larian should be (yes, troubleshooting tech issues but also) trying to even out the absurd gaps they allowed to happen in integrating the narrative of, especially, Karlach and Wyll into the game. Make more and decent content for them, fix the plot holes, rewrite the shit that doesn’t make sense for them FIRST.
Tbh, I wouldn’t be complaining if Larian had owned it to their content and presented us with Karlach and Wyll as sort of Halsin or Minthara type of companion - non origin, lesser tier of companion. Then the production choices they made would be at the very least justified. And I won’t EVEN start on the fact that these two, Karl and Wyll, are the two PoC origins… the black guy and the southeast Asian woman. Because, oh, boy, things start to look VERY bad when you put THAT into this equation… 👀
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#opinion#karlach#astarion x karlach#karlach x astarion#astarion#bg3 spoilers#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard#karlach cliffgate#bg3 analysis#bg3 opinion#bg3 ranting#bg3 durge#bg3 tav#bg3 writing#bg3 narrative#before anyone forgets that#this is my blog and this is my opinion#you can always suck my massive dong#have fun kids
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>1.6k words on bi Gansey
Hi! This belongs to my big Raven Cycle analysis, click here for the masterpost.
Today we are diving into all the reasons why I think Gansey is a bi king (and then some more). Enjoy!
(I think there might be mild spoilers up to trk, nothing too bad though, more character interactions than plot)
b) Gansey
Alright hear me out. This man. There is nothing this rich boy can do to beat the fruit allegations. He is a bi king, through and through. Everyone but him knows, including you, because what I have to say is the absolute truth and I am great at convincing.
I once saw a tumblr post that said “Gansey has to physically restrain himself from kissing all his friends” and there has never been anything more true.
And it’s important to note that this is really not only reader interpretation. Or, at least, reader interpretation includes other character’s interpretations, which are sometimes incredibly straight(lol)forward.
After doing Adam a big favor, Gansey’s sister Helen (who is aro-ace btw, because I said so) immediately assumes he is sleeping with him, which is a conclusion she jumped to way too quickly if Gansey has never previously shown any interest in Adam or other boys. Like, she seems to know him quite well, and for her to just think he’s in a relationship with Adam says a lot about the homoeroticism prevalent in Gansey’s friendships with both Adam and also Ronan.
Because then we have Kavinsky, another canonically queer character, who thus might arguably have some sort of gaydar, assuming Ronan and Gansey are in a romantic (but most of all, sexual) relationship.
Admittedly, this has largely to do with Kavinsky assuming things about Ronan and his sexuality, as is explicitly mentioned in the book. However, you can very easily speculate about someone’s sexuality without knowing their (previous) partners, if there have been any at all, so to correctly believe Ronan is gay does not have to randomly entail relationship speculations. So somewhere, even from not interacting with them so much, Kavinsky must have gotten that idea.
That somewhere is the deep affection the two of them share, which is absolutely palpable for everyone around. Yes, I know their relationship is described as brotherly (please note I do not condone incest!), but also somewhere within “they’re bros” lies the implication they are gay. Two bros chilling in a hot tub. They’re having a bromance. Let bros kiss.
Another person who seems to believe in a Gansey romance above bromance is Henry, who at that point of book three had only interacted with him at school very superficially. We can assume the way Gansey behaves with Adam and Ronan at school is very much homoerotic, or elsewise Henry would have no reason to be surprised about seeing Gansey with Blue (“a chick”). He can’t be surprised about Gansey pulling… someone, considering he is apparently super good-looking, he just never had reason to assume Gansey was anything but achillean.
Now this was mostly people who don’t know Gansey that well, or at least people not part of the inner circle, so it can’t mean that much, right? Surely there would not be anyone who truly, deeply knows Gansey, who would assume he is queer. Right?
Wrong. I have since forgotten the context of that quote, but Adam, someone who is very close to both of them, thinks that Ronan and Gansey could date. Make of that what you will, but I will it to be homoerotic subtext. (Or text, as what Adam says is what he says, no room for interpretation there.)
Lastly, Adam’s father called him the f-slur. Ok, I will admit that it’s not completely confirmed to be that, but what else would a censored word with f stand for? Again, it’s hard to tell, because my two options would be the slur and just straight-up “fucker”, but both “f*g” and “fuck” are used directly in the following books. The f-slur was used directly in Ronan’s narrative though, in that of a character who talks very obscenely in general, so I have no trouble believing Gansey just wouldn’t have wanted to repeat that word, especially if it’s just a memory.
The line between romantic and platonic interactions is thin enough in this series as it is, but Gansey seems to blur it especially. I am going to touch on that at a later point, but platonic affection is given a very important role, so much that in some parts it carries as much significance as romantic actions do (as it should- relationship anarchy rules), if not more.
With Gansey that seems to be especially strong, a lot of the things he does with his friends seeming romantic.
First of all, he is co-parenting with Ronan. Yes, it is a bird, but Ronan loves her like a human daughter so the point stands. The two of them even squabble about it like an old married couple, Gansey’s legendary “this is exactly why I didn’t want to have a baby with you” speaks for itself.
Then there is the insomnia quality time, as I like to call it. We, as the readers, are probably supposed to focus on the late night phone calls and drives with Blue, the fact that “she makes [him] quiet”, and that he can sleep after talking to her. But what I find equally important is the time he spends with Ronan at Monmouth during those sleepless nights, them getting orange juice at three a.m. While it might not be something super comforting that makes them both fall asleep, this routine they seem to have fallen into, just spending time while not expecting anything from the other, is something that means a lot to me; they are very much giving platonic soulmates, but also what if they kissed?
Of course I cannot not mention “While I’m gone, dream me the world. Something new for every night.”
That boy is being unnecessarily dramatic about going away for literally one weekend. And why? Because “they had been a two-headed creature for so long, Ronan-and-Gansey. He couldn’t say it, though. There were a thousand reasons why he couldn’t say it.”
What are those reasons though? Is it because he is actually in love with Ronan but admitting to that would make the friendship super fucking awkward so he whips out a dramatic, half-romantic metaphor quote? Yeah, that makes total sense.
Staying on my Ronsey bullshit, let’s not forget the glorious, deleted pool table scene. In case you are not familiar with it, or have forgotten the way it sounds (probably the reason it was deleted), I’ll just let two quotes speak for themselves.
“There was something suggestive about how [Ronan] wore the suit” Oh yes, of course there was. Sometimes you wear clothing with a certain intention, and in Ronan’s case, that intention is to be bent over the pool table by Gansey.
This becomes even clearer here: “Gansey was well aware that Ronan rather fancied the way he looked while he played pool, and the way he reached across the felt now, intentional and elegant and coiled, indicated that he was fancying himself at this very moment.”
Once again, everything is super intentional, and Gansey wants to fuck him so badly. Not even kidding at this point, the way Maggie wrote this scene really makes it look like Gansey finds Ronan super hot; even as an aromantic asexual person I have to say, this is a lot more than “bro appreciating his best friend’s glow-up in a completely heterosexual way”. This iconic scene is gay brainrot, which is exactly why we did not get to experience this masterpiece within an actual, published book. The Ronsey shippers would have gone too wild.
[Speaking of which, I’d like to clarify that I do not ship Ronsey in the way some other people do, I do prefer them with their canon love interests, however I clearly see the potential of them having had some kind of mutual attraction in the past, I just think it makes the dynamic a lot more fun and interesting, sort of like how Jesper had a crush on Kaz in Six of Crows.]
Gansey has received at least one (1) dick pic of Ronan. The circumstances do not say anything about either Gansey or Ronan, but I think it’s funny, it builds character, so I chose to include it in this.
Perhaps the strongest evidence for him running with the lgbtq+ is the fact that he goes to an all-boys school. Come on, what is he supposed to do, surrounded by all those guys rich enough to afford good haircuts and a private trainer? Should he just not have gay thoughts? Impossible.
Now all this was mostly evidence for Gansey swinging that way, somehow, but of course he’s one of those doors that open both ways. Yes, he has a girlfriend, but there is even more proof for him being specifically m-spec, just you wait.
To begin with, apart from his friends Gansey has two true loves. Henrietta (the town with a female name, who his sister refers to as his girlfriend- the same sister who assumes Gansey is sleeping with Adam; Helen is a bi Gansey truther) and Glendower, the dead, male king. Obviously, this is totally serious business.
Additionally, I have talked through to a very full extent how he is in love with Ronan, but of course he is also in love with Henry, I do not have to elaborate on this. He is also very much jealous when Blue and Adam are dating, as is described multiple times, but we don’t find out exactly who he is jealous of. Yes, he likes Blue, and he is sad that his best friend is sort of being stolen away etc., but what if he also just wanted to hold hands. With both of them. At once.
It’s not only Gansey being in love with all of them, it’s also all of them being in love with Gansey. His bi swagger.
It was this: Blue finding him irresistible.
It was this: Ronan wanting to smash his fist through a wall because of how hot Gansey is.
It was this: Henry saying Gansey is a “Caucasian with great hair”.
Bi Gansey is the truth and I will defend that until the day I die.
However, I will admit that he is absolutely a cis guy, no question. At no point in his life has he had to be afraid to take up space or anything, but that man supports trans rights of course.
He would not wear a crop top on his own, but considering how he is in love with them, Blue, Ronan and Henry could bully him into it and he would rock it.
#trying a catchier title with this one#trc#the raven cycle#the raven boys#the dream thieves#blue lily lily blue#the raven king#gansey#ronan lynch#adam parrish#blue sargent#henry cheng#bi gansey
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I’m way behind on posting about my rewatch - there’s plenty I do want to say about S2, and there’s a whole essay about gender and Phases that I’m probably never going to write - but I’m into Season 3 and I really want to note how much early S3 establishes the issues that are going to drive Buffy’s long breakdown in seasons 6 and 7.
Firstly, Buffy's tendency to pull away from her friends, feeling she has to take care of everything for herself and protect them from her problems and her feelings rather than sharing them. It’s a consistent pattern, and we see it in her running away at the end of Season 2, and continually refusing to talk about what happened with Angel with both the Scoobies and Faith. When she eventually does try to talk to her assigned school counsellor about Angel, she explicitly says she can’t talk to anyone else about what’s happening (only to find him dead, which I’m sure didn’t help).
Of course, this isn’t just a flaw of Buffy’s - her friends have a pretty big role to play, especially Xander. His sanctimonious, judgemental whining about Buffy leaving, as well as anything to do with Angel, does a lot to push Buffy away. (Not to mention the first thing he does when he finds out Angel is back is try to manipulate Faith into murdering him.) It’s also hard not to suspect that Xander’s lie back in Becoming did a lot of damage - because of that, Buffy thinks even Willow hates Angel and wouldn’t understand her continued feelings for him. ‘Kick his ass’ made Buffy feel like literally no-one is on her side.
Regardless of the reason, here we see the beginning of the split that will make Buffy feel increasingly isolated and unable to trust or rely on anyone as the series continues into the depression years, especially Season 6. But we also see the start of a pattern that will become a central flaw in Season 7 - her inability to express empathy or care for anyone who she sees as a reflection of herself.
I’m actually not talking about Faith here - that’s related, but it’s also a whole can of lesbian worms I don’t want to get into right now. But aside from Faith, in the first few episodes of Season 3 there are two girls who mirror Buffy, specifically in her relationship with Angel. In Anne, we have Lily/Anne, who’s wants to spend the rest of her life with her older boyfriend, who has a criminal past and seems a little crappy but also genuinely loves her and is trying to be good to her, and who ends up being sent to hell. Then in Beauty and the Beasts, we see Abby, who started dating a guy who seemed nice at first, but who turned out to be an abusive monster. Both are very obvious parallels to Buffy in her relationship with Angel (in soul-having and soulless forms), and serve as ways for her reflect on that relationship.
But what I want to focus on is the fact that, while Buffy does try to help both girls, she’s also unusually harsh and unempathetic towards them. Her attitude is ‘This is how things are, and you need to set aside your emotions and just deal with it immediately and without emotional support’; it reflects how she treats herself, but it’s also a pattern in how she treats people whose challenges reflect hers. Which will come to a head in how she treats the Potential slayers in season 7, and the way she alienates everyone around her in part through her treatment of them (and therefore also her treatment of herself).
It’s just interesting to see these issues that will dominate the last couple of seasons come across so strongly in this early part of Season 3.
#my apologies#i've been terribly lax in my posting duties#will try to post more (energy permitting)#and i'll try not to hate on Xander#but by early season 3 I'm really understanding where the Xander hate comes from#it's not him at his best#btvs#Buffy the Vampire Slayer#btvs rewatch#btvs s3#btvs s6#btvs s7#meta#Buffy Summers#Xander Harris#Anne#Beauty and the Beasts
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Ok now that I’m fully awake. It’s time try and organize my thoughts on that audio oh my god.
Also trigger warning for mentions of suicide under the cut
That’s actually the first thing I wanna talk about, and is the only gripe I have with the entire video. Why the fuck wasn’t mentions of suicide tagged in the description??
Like I understand the concept wasn’t dwelled on and Sam didn’t outright say “I’m gonna fucking kill myself” but he PRETTY EXPLICITLY talked about how he planned to commit suicide even if he didn’t say those words. idk “chosen morality” doesn’t seem like the right warning for that? I’m not gonna complain abt it like too much, I just was a little confused on why it wasn’t tagged.
But anyways onto my jumbled up thoughts about the actual audio! Because as a member of the Sam Collins fandom, I have thoughttsssssss!!
THIS AUDIO MADE ME SOB! I couldn’t sleep because of how sad I was over it. Sam and Darlin need to be happy just for fucking ONCE, god give them a BREAKKKKKK.
The idea of them just silently holding each other on their roof with the night sky above them, a few tears probably falling from both of them. IM DUHXSJDIJFDJFHFHJ
AND MOTHERFUCKER THE VIDEO ENDING ON “Brown. My eyes were brown” I FELL TO THE FLOOR SHUT THE FUCK UP!
On a happier note about that, I KNEW Sam’s eyes were brown. I feel like almost everyone did tbh. I’ll tell you what gave it away though, the gentle way he says “please” to Darlin in some of his audios. Automatically gave it away that he would have had the biggest brown puppy dog eyes you have ever seen in your life. I’m physically sick over it, it’s not even funny.
Now back to the thing I desperately don’t wanna think about. Sam telling Darlin that he wasn’t planning on living forever.
That’s where the dam broke for me, I started bawling. It totally makes sense, I get it and I can’t say that it’s not a choice that makes sense given that Sam never wanted to be a vampire in the first place.
Do y’all think that he was planning to watch the sunrise on his roof? Because that was my first thought and it hurt real bad. Sam finally getting to feel the sunlight after so many years of having been deprived of it, only to be ash when the sun was fully in the sky.
Also I know damn well he probably would have done it after Darlin died and that’s what hurts so bad. If Darlin chose to be a vampire I think he would happily spend however long their eternity would be by their side, but once they were gone he probably wouldn’t feel a reason to stay. Especially because if Darlin turned into a vampire the two of them probably would have completely pulled away from all mortals before that would happen.
On that note, I don’t think Darlin is gonna want to be turned. I never really thought they would, unless they were under very specific circumstances. Sam telling them to spend time in their wolf form and with their pack before deciding solidified that for me 100%. I don’t think they would be able to lose their wolf which we know is a pretty big part of shifters, talking from Milo’s audio where he breaks down worried he was never going to be able to shift again. I don’t think they would be okay with the idea of watching their friends, and their family all start to wither away and eventually die while they remain.
Now, do I think Darlin is going to want to be turned? No. Do I think the dynamic of Darlin choosing to remain mortal opens a lot of really good angst possibilities? Yes. Do I fully trust Erik to not turn them anyways? Not really no.
If I had to put a bet in for how it would happen if Darlin got turned, it would be by Quinn. Quinn would find out or catch wind of the fact that they chose not to be turned (if he didn’t already know they would chose that) and turn them anyways just to hurt them.
(I think Alexis turning them is an interesting idea to think about, from any angle but I highly doubt that’s gonna happen lmao)
All in all I genuinely think that was the only audio that has affected me that much (aside from maybe listening to the inversion for the first time??)
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Ok so…ima need you to explain jackieshauna to me. Because I’ve stanned so many f/f ships, but I just don’t….see it. I see people refer to them as homoerotic yet….they barely even show physical affection. Hell, they barely show affection towards the other. So what are y’all seeing that I’m not?
I mean yeah I can explain what I see for sure! But also; ships are just ships, and they’re just for fun. You can not see it if you don’t want to, and that’s totally your prerogative! Honestly, I’m cool with people seeing it or people not seeing it or whatever. It’s all pretty chill to me.
But, to me, there’s definitely something there. Gosh, it’s almost hard for me to put it into words. It helps that the showrunners have stated that they loved each other, with Bart explicitly saying in an interview that they were in love.
However, i guess I should get into why I like it. For one, they’re childhood best friends, but there’s also something so much history between the two that we don’t even get to see in the show. But what we do see in the show is two people who know each other so, so well but not at all, not really. They got used to the idea of knowing each other and appear to have forgotten taking the time to actually do that.
The way that Jackie and Shauna look at each other is another reason I like them. From the pilot episode, to me, it looks like there’s something in their eyes when they see each other. The way they look at each other in line at the pep rally, the way Shauna stares at Jackie and Jeff. Now, an argument can be made that Shauna’s jealous because of Jeff, but there’s not enough evidence to back that in the show. The main (and likely only) reason that Shauna sleeps with Jeff is because he’s Jackie’s. Because she wants what Jackie has, because she wants to be Jackie. In my opinion, she does it because she’s chasing the taste of something she thinks she can never have. Then, of course, you have Jackie looking back at Shauna, Shauna looking back at Jackie, the hug, the “love you,” the fact that it isn’t returned.
And all of that’s just the pilot.
There’s so much love and jealousy between these two characters. And there’s a lot of physical touch and intimacy if you know where to look for it. Sharing the necklace, the numerous times that they hug, the lingering shots of hands gripping shirts, arms squeezing tight. I love the jealousy aspects, how Jackie reacts to Shauna spending more time with Tai, the way Shauna looks at Jackie when she chooses to hang out with Mari at the lake. Jackie is trying to make Shauna jealous; it’s working.
Jackie never moves on from Shauna’s betrayal; it’s a contributing factor in her death. And, like. She would have forgiven Shauna if she’d just apologized; the dream in the season one finale kind of confirms that. She’s more upset about the way that Shauna thinks about her than the cheating. And it seems less upsetting to her that Jeff cheated on her with Shauna than the fact that Shauna cheated on her with Jeff. It’s the secrets. “You lost your virginity without me.”
Shauna never moved on from Jackie. Period. Full stop. The trajectory of her entire life changes. She fits herself uncomfortably into the life that she thinks Jackie would have occupied, despite the fact that Jackie never planned on being with Jeff full time, always planned to go to college, likely hoped to make something of herself. Shauna fits herself into the mold that she thinks Jackie would have settled for in her worst timeline because Shauna thinks she deserves it. She sees Jackie’s ghost, both in ‘96 and ‘21, though some of the hauntings are almost a perversion of who we actually see Jackie to be in the show. She talks to her corpse, keeps it for two entire months between season one and season two before the rest of the girls do something about it.
“I can’t tell where you end and I begin.” “She wants us to.” “It’s what she would have wanted, if not for us, then for you.” They cared about each other. They really did love each other. And they were kind of obsessed with each other, so much so that it sort of ruined both of their lives.
So I don’t know. I mean, it’s just the way I feel about them, what I see when I watch the show. I think there’s plenty of evidence that they’re affectionate towards each other. They do more than just revolve around each other; they’re like organs in the same organ system, connected and needing each other to survive. And they feed off of each other. Oh, teenage girls cannibalize each other metaphorically all the time, and Jackie and Shauna were doing it for years before they ever ate Jackie’s body. This is all just my own personal opinions and my own reading of the show. But I think there’s more than enough evidence there.
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Okay time I do my Walten Files posting. I’ve noticed some confusion regarding timelines and what’s happening when, so I want to try to write down what happens and when. Now someone this stuff not make much sense, and some may possibly be retconned, but this is what we are given.
The crash happened the night of May 2nd. Multiple times in the series we are told this. Jack calls Felix that night, Felix does not pick up. Jack goes to Felix’s house (12:23 AM according to CC), Felix does not answer. Jack says “I know you can hear me” and “I know you’re in there,” but we are to presume this is wishful thinking on his end, because Felix is not actually home. Felix was out until early hours of the morning the next day (May 3rd) digging the graves (still sitting in one as of 8:56 AM according to CC), throwing the bag into the river, and then going to the police station. Even earlier in the morning, presumably after Jack went to Felix’s house (which was past midnight and thus morning), Jack had already gone to the police. We learn this in the description under Lacrimosa.
"Report 90892 May 4th, 1974 - Brighton City Police Department
Wrr: Frank Davis
Felix Archer Kranken reportedly arrived at the station in the morning on May 3rd, He had a broken pair of glasses, dirty blue pants and a yellow dress shirt covered in dirt and blood. When I got the call He was already taken into custody, we sat him down for a few hours and he revealed valuable information about a case we were previously told about earlier that same day by Mr. Jack Walten. Walten's 2 youngest kids, Edd and Molly Walten, had disappeared with Kranken the night prior. Felix's alibi stated he was unconscious or about 20 minutes, when he woke up the kid had ran off."
In TFW4, we get a sort of update from Felix from “3 days after the accident.” He said he “finally told them what happened” in his office, which I think we are to believe he told them the truth, as opposed to the lie he told the police. However, he still lies about the Rocket doll. In the description under Guilty, we see this:
"In memorial of Edward Walten - Molly Walten:
- Ed (12) and Molly (9) died Thursday, May 2nd, 1974 in a fatal car accident, they were leaving a party made by their school to celebrate Spring. Jack Walten (father, husband) couldn't take the kids to the celebration because of work. A friend of Mr. Walten would take the kids instead. On the way back home, Jack's friend would be driving in questionable conditions, thus crashing his car near the road next to Saint Juana's forest. Instantly taking both Edward and Molly's lives. You will be remembered, our little angels, our little red children."
The video Guilty is from three years ago, so this may be retconned, but it is the current understanding that by the time of the funeral for Ed and Molly, they knew the truth of what happened. This points to the idea that during the meeting in Felix’s office, he told the truth. However, it is unclear if this truth went out to the police. There are a few reasons why The Waltens may not go forward with the information Felix told them, but I don’t cover them here as they aren’t explicitly stated.
It is unclear when the funeral is, but based off of the memorial, it is after Felix came clean. In TWF4, on “05/13” (May 13th) Susan and Charles only find out “weeks” later about the funeral, but it physically couldn’t have been more than ten days, implying the funeral was held quickly after the accident, possibly as soon as they Waltens found out the truth. With it also being clear it was “family only,” it seems in addition to not telling the police, the family hadn’t told ANYONE. It is unclear if Susan and Charles know the full truth, or only the truth given to the police, only that he was “drunk while driving the car.” By that time, Susan says she hasn’t heard from Jack “in a long while.” Both of them think there’s something off with Felix’s story, implying that they maybe don’t know the full truth, but they could just be doubting what we the audience have been shown (which still may not be the full story). Charles asks if the kids are “gone,” which is ambiguous wording. I think it may be intentional that we don’t know what they know. Some point prior to that, Felix hid Rocket at Bon’s Burgers, and told Susan not to tell Rosemary or Jack. Jack disappears almost a month later, on June 11th. Susan dies even later, on June 30th.
So that’s the timeline of the events we see surrounding the new video. I can’t tell you if maybe there’s more than Felix even knows happened that night, or who knows what, or why the Waltens haven’t gotten Felix arrested. But that’s the timeline.
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