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streets-in-paradise · 2 years

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Birthday Wishes

Requested by @losersclubisms

Masterlist

Word Count 2.5K

Characters: Andy Barclay (main), Junior Wheeler (main), Jake Wheeler (main), Kyle Simpson, Karen Barclay, Glen Ray Tilly, Nica Pierce, Glenda Ray Tilly, Devon Evans, Lexy Cross.

Relationships: Barclay Wheeler Family AU ( AU where Andy adopts Jake and Junior), some implicit Andy x Nica.

Warnings: No proofreading. Birthday fic, AU ( canon? what’s canon?), Andy being a parental figure for the Wheeler boys. They call him mom sometimes while the reason for that nickname isn’t explained.

Summary: Andy hasn’t have a happy birthday on decades, but Jake and Junior want to change that.

Notes: This fic is a found family love letter of happy birthday for Andy. I was going to post it sooner, but i had no internet connection for a couple of hours.

The kitchen was absolute chaos with the two cousins working on it that morning. It was a special yet hard day that needed to start in the best way, but that wouldn't mean that the Wheeler kids would stop bringing mischief while messing with each other. Jake dragged Junior out of bed earlier and his morning crankiness manifested in tons of little practical jokes while cooking breakfast together. The result was unfortunately affected by the distractions on their games and some outside distractions happening on the process.

" I can't believe you just burned the pancakes!!!" Jake complained to his cousin, witnessing with horror the biggest mistake of all. " JUNIOR, YOU HAD ONE JOB!"

" IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU LEFT THE FIRE TOO HIGH!!" The boy defended himself. " It wouldn't have burned so fast at a normal temperature."

He had a point, but not a valid reason.

" I was talking with Glen! They are getting the gifts. Whatever you were texting with Lexy, I don't think it was what matters today. "

Junior felt called out because he was either discovered by a peek at his phone screen or, worse... By his enamored reactions when receiving the texts.

" I was convincing her to come to the party... you know, just in case Devon didn't yet. We know it's not gonna be like the sort of parties she likes and for the most Andy creeps her when being himself but it would be nice if she would come ... "

" Just because YOU want to see her. " Jake concluded for him. " Listen, I understand how you feel but you can't lose focus today. Andy hasn't had a decent birthday in decades, we can't screw this one up too. He is not expecting anything, but that doesn't mean we can't still disappoint him."

Jake really didn't mean to trigger him, but the automatic setting on Junior's mind to fear disappointment from parental figures got activated to the nagging.

Suddenly he felt awful, freaking out to the realization that the big day was going to start with a nearly burned breakfast but there was not much time to completely fix everything.

" SHIT!! What do we do now?"

" Carry on and hope for the best." His cousin added, in resignation. " I'm gonna make some french toast to put at the side in case he wouldn't want to eat this shit. "

Junior's mischievousness faded a bit, scared to face such simple failure. Even if Andy wouldn't mind, he did.

" ... Maybe I should keep focusing on the party plans. "

Jake still had a not so little objection to add.

" I know you wanna help but, for fucks sake, we are not gonna hang the garlands you made. "

" But I know Andy is going to love it." Junior protested while still cooperating bringing out more stuff from the fridge. " You are so full of shit, Jake, I swear. When you take a pile of ugly dolls and make a sculpture that's art, but when i do is disgusting."

" Excuse me, Junior Sawyer, but someone has to protect Glen from your artistic sense... THAT'S THEIR FREAKING FATHER!!!"

Junior wasn't touched in the slightest with the reaffirmation of an obvious fact.

" So what? They aren't on good terms with Chucky."

" That's it? That's your excuse?" Jake followed, desperately trying to make him see the point. " Think about this: How would you feel if Glenda would make a welcome mat of Logan's skin?

Realizing he had used a terrible example, Jake released a groan of frustration while going back to the cooking and Junior self declared the winner of the altercate.

" From you and I... Whose the one that thought first on making art out of Chucky? "

Some of the yelling going on reached Andy, but he was asleep and way too used to the boy's bickering to pay attention. He could tell that the noise was approaching, but didn't guess why. All he thought before rolling on bed was that, whatever chaos that was going on, he would deal with that later.

Ignoring his conscience for the rest of the day was already going to be hard, so he didn't want to make the kids participants of his inner hell. They didn't deserve having to stand his terrible humor on the worst day of the year. He was not okay, but he was their caretaker and it was not their responsibility to deal with that.

The door was opened just as he was falling back asleep. Andy didn't react quickly, unusual for a light sleeper. It was a ' just leave me alone' sort of indirect sign, but the wheelers weren't going to give up.

" Good morning, Andy! It's your big day!!" Jake saluted him first, obtaining only some groans of protest.

Junior didn't hesitate in becoming the goofier echo of his cousin. While Jake was holding the tray standing at one side of the bed, he rushed to the opposite and began to shake Andy.

" C'mon, mom! Wake up!!!"

Andy opened his eyes to the excessively energical call, feeling that nickname that the boys gave him a bit stronger than usual because he found Junior covered in flour stains looking like a toddler in mother's day.

" What time is it?"

" 10 am, but you weren't waking up so we got worried."

Andy chuckled, holding his impulse of making a dark joke about how he didn't have will to get up.

" For how long have you been up to annoy each other?"

" Since forever!" Junior complained, a dramatical mock to Jake and the morning schedule he settled on. " We are that much excited."

Andy tried to calm him down sweetly reminding both of them that there was nothing to cheer about.

" You don't have to make it a big deal. It's not ... I appreciate, but."

" We made you breakfast." Jake cutted him off, ruining his way for any objection.

The man glanced at the teenage boy carrying a tray that seemed a complete mess. The mug on it was splattered with coffee and Jake himself had his clothes stained with something wet.

" Shit... Are you alright?"

" Yeah, the coffee fell on the ground. Those are eggs that Junior threw at me, that's why he is full of flour."

Junior smiled innocently from his spot.

" Happy birthday, Andy!!" He changed the topic. " You are gonna celebrate with us at least. "

" We love to have you in our lives. Junior and I have always been related ..."

"But what truly made both of us a family was to find you. We are not gonna let Chucky steal the spotlight on your birthday. You matter more than the anniversary of his first death."

Andy sat on the bed and the boys observed him attentively, looking forward his reaction yet he found himself unable to pronounce a single word because he was in the purest awe trying to process the amount of love they were giving him.

Then, he picked the tray and got to see what they made for him. It was messier than what it looked like from afar, splatted coffee and partíally burned pancakes with some orange juice and french toast to the side put there as compensation.

" It's horrible, you don't have to eat it.." Junior apologized ahead, confusing his silence with disappointment. " It's my fault, I let it burn. I can't do anything ríght."

Andy began to cry and both cousins were completely clueless about that. Of course, they couldn't possibly know about the last happy memory of his childhood: the burned toasts that he carried to his mom's bedroom early on the morning of that fatidic day. He was then in her place, those were his children even if they weren't little kids anymore.

" I KNOW WE RUINED IT BUT, PLEASE. DON'T CRY!" Jake begged, feeling unable to do anything else. " I CAN'T SEE YOU CRY."

Junior was already sobbing and then, with their evident sorrow, Andy remembered that they indeed didn't know anything about that.

"... It's perfect, more than perfect." He quickly clarified in a cheerful tone. " This isn't sadness, ok? I cry because i love you both so much."

He cleared his throat, trying to sound his best despite the crying.

" Jake, Junior. You weren't born from me, but that doesn't matter. You are my boys and I love you. I ran out of birthday wishes because you are the best thing happening in my life and you don't have to do anything to make it better."

The tray ended up on the nightstand because both boys rushed to hug him, tears of happiness flowing everywhere.

" Happy birthday. " Jake followed. " We are going to make this the best day of your life, I promise. "

It was, Andy didn't remember a happier day. With surprises happening all the time, it could only have ended on the highest note: a party where all of his loved ones were present. The lonely six year old kid was then an adult surrounded by people who wanted to celebrate with him. Most of them were kids, but there was also his amazing sister who brought his mom for the occasion, and some unexpected surprise guests.

Nica arrived with Glen and Glenda, what was a pleasant surprise for many reasons. To say that he developed a crush on that woman was an obvious fact that he tried to hide in vain at that point. If he once pointed a gun at her to take his shot on killing Chucky, he went to hell and back searching for a way to help her later. He had direct responsibility for the situation that led her back into a free and full body and the twins saw it. Glen adored him and he got Glenda's respects through that.

They brought two beautifully packaged gifts with them, but one of those was quite concerning due to the size. A big, rectangular package that was too suspicious and Glenda's mischievous stares everytime Andy would look at it from afar were making it worse. They were probably just messing with him, but he was thrilled and finding it hard to focus on his surroundings.

" The garlands are a symbol." He heard Junior explaining himself to Glen, making up excuses for what was pretty much the birthday version of his typical creepy decorations made of scratches from various copies of Chucky that he killed. That time, only pieces of clothing were used." When Andy was little he had those at the birthday party your dad crashed at, so it's about healing.``

" Well, you will have to refresh me on that part because I did the shopping and don't remember anything like this. " His mom was adding. " We didn't have those garlands."

Jake, Kyle, Devon and Lexy were too aware to avoid laughing, what made an unaware Glen smile because they seemed happy.

" I think my boy is thinking of another birthday tradition. " Karen pointed out at Andy's distraction. " Gifts first, honey?"

Andy smiled for her before justifying himself.

" The big one, I just HAVE to know what's inside there. "

Nica made a ' my lips are sealed' gesture, joking around while keeping the secret that the children of Chucky trusted her with. Her sweet silliness got a smile out of him even despite he was mildly panicking.

" Ohh, yes! That's perfect! Open ours before the cake!" Glen cheered with sparkling excitement.

"... You would feel better with no knives around." Glenda followed, their grimm joke resembling Junior's trauma based humor.

Before Andy could pick up the box Glen did it for him, then rushed beside him holding the two packages. Although the man promised he would open the smaller one later, he practically tore the wrap of the bigger.

It was what he suspected, but not quite exactly what he thought.

A doll, pale and red haired, but not a Good Guy.

" A little bit of me for you." Glen sweetly explained. " I can't technically gift it because Is not mine to give, I share it with Glenda. They agreed to let me give it to you for the party."

Andy stared at them, unable to understand what was going on but guessing that the answer was going to be cavity-inducing sweet just because it came from them.

" Is this what I think it is?... Glen, are you giving me the doll where you were born?"

" It's a borrow, but yes. " They continued their explanation. " Many, many years ago my dad harmed you so deeply as your birthday gift doll, so I want my doll to be your gift."

Andy had a bright smile on his face and had to restrain his own emotions a bit to avoid tearing up in front of everyone.

" We also got you clothes.." Glenda followed. " You need some help with your wardrobe.."

A possessed doll and new clothes; the exact replication of his birthday gifts that year. No one else noticed the irony, but it was a happy one for once.

" Is this doll... safe?" Karen asked, evidently weirded and as concerned, perhaps even more, than Andy was. " How does it work?"

" It's them, as harmless as Glen is. Trust me, they are an angel." Nica explained. " They agreed that Glen keeps control for today, so they are gonna be pretty much like a kid running around. The doll that your son deserved."

Andy approached it hesitantly. Since their doll form hadn't meet him before he felt the need of introducing himself.

" Hi, Glen! I am Andy... I am friends with human Glen."

The doll blinked its eyes, as if it was waking up from a long nap, then replied.

" It's so nice to meet you! Hi, Andy! And Happy birthday, by the way."

The Barclays stared at each other as if they were contemplating the universe's biggest irony, then laughed.

" Really, Glen? Your doll?" Junior complained, showing a bit of jealousy because the gesture was impressive. " Nothing here can compete with that. What am supposed to do now? That's the nice doll of his childhood dreams!"

" We are not brainwashing more dolls, don't even think about it. " Devon commented. " They have the best gift. Get over it."

" Are you gonna fight over Andy? Right here and now?" Lexy joked. " I can't believe it."

" Of course not!" Jake added in what seemed to bring maturity into the discussion, but wasn't mature at all. " We don't have to, Andy is our mom."

" Alright, people. I'm gonna get the cake." Kyle announced. " Is anyone going to give me a hand with that?"

The doll spoke once more.

" I can help."

" Anyone that isn't the doll? No offense to you, Glen, I just don't know them."

They smiled and followed as their human persona, to what Junior followed as well just so he wouldn't be less.

At their return everyone began to sing while Andy stared at his cake and the little candles on top of it. For the first time ever he had no idea of what he was going to wish for, since nothing felt missing in his life.

#child's play #andy barclay #junior wheeler #jake wheeler #barclay wheeler family au #andy adopts the wheelers AU #alex vincent #teo briones #zackary arthur #chucky 2021 #kyle simpson #karen barclay #glen ray tilly #nica pierce #glenda ray tilly #devon evans #lexy cross

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quotesfrommyreading · 10 months

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Don’t compare things to the Holocaust that aren’t the Holocaust. In some senses, this is obvious. Whatever one thinks of them, vaccine passports are not the mechanized murder of millions of Jews and other undesirables. Mask mandates are not the Nuremberg Laws. But these are easy cases.

The truth is, some things do warrant comparison to the Holocaust. Personally, I can think of no more relevant frame for understanding China’s heinous treatment of its Uyghur Muslim population. But just because some things can be likened to the Holocaust doesn’t mean they should be. The reason is sadly simple: When you compare something terrible to the Holocaust, the argument inevitably becomes about the comparison rather than the terrible thing you intended to decry. Instead of raising awareness about an atrocity, you end up distracting from it.

Invoking the Holocaust seems like a shortcut, but it is actually a dead end. The term Holocaust has rhetorical power because so many people already understand its awfulness. By definition, contemporary catastrophes do not have that cachet, and any effective advocate needs to use specifics and facts to impose the urgency of their cause on the public. Skipping this step and jumping straight to Holocaust elides the hard but necessary conversation required to educate and motivate outsiders to action.

— How Not to Talk About the Holocaust

#yair rosenberg #how not to talk about the holocaust #antisemitism #history #sociology #holocaust

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neroraven · 2 years

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I saw your tags on tbk and im glad someone said it. i waited to read tbk last because everyone kept saying its dostoivskys best work but i see now why its so popular with the right-wing, podcast boys. there were parts i enjoyed but for the most part, it sucked.

the main female characters exist to be catty and dramatic (and the women in the court room of course treat the trial like a soap opera). Lise, the only one with depth, vanishes off the page.

Dmitri goes around beating, drinking, shouting and being generally awful. He cheats on Katerina, chokes Grushenkas maid and admits he couldve have killed her and also was fully ready to kill Fyodor but!! he didnt get the chance to and someone else did therefore hes a tragic character ig. seriously am i suppose to feel bad for him? cause i dont, he very much deserved to be in prison.

Ivan and Smerdyakov are both actually fascinating and both are punished by the narrative, ivan for being a well-educated atheist and Smerdyakov for not wanting to be a servant of the man who raped his mother and having ambitions to go abroad.

And finally Alyosha. i know hes adored and hes cute and all but my god does he do shit all. his crisis of faith couldve been interesting, had it lasted longer than 5 mins. after which hes exclusively a delivery boy. we are constantly told hes angelic and everyone thinks as much but what exactly he is doing to stand out is never explained. he also doesnt really engage in zosimas 'active love' when it would have been difficult but needed. most people can be kind to children- thats easy. but what about being kind to Smerdyakov and treating him as a brother? what about addressing that Dmitri is the problem rather than just being helpful to people he has slighted?

Alyosha never has to acknowledge that being passive with Dmitri and Fyodor is at odds with supporting the people they torment. Helping Dmitri escape couldve been interesting in Alyosha having to face that he might be freeing the murderer of their father but nope. he *knows* Dmitri is innocent, so no difficult choice for him.

Anyway very sorry for the rant, i was just pretty dissapointed in this book. Its heralded as a sum of dostoivskys works but it really seemed to highlight all his flaws. Its long winded and repetitive at times, the characters seem less nuanced than he usually writes, the themes are on the nose. god is good, socialism and foreign influence bad. And again, there were parts i loved and was immeresed with but holy shit did i finish it underwhelmed.

I can’t help but completely agree with you anon, I think we are on the same page after finishing the novel.

It’s obvious that the book is far from terrible, it’s complex, it has beautiful prose and an interesting narrative, but overall it's just too many things at once. I understand that Dostoyevski knew that he wouldn’t have time to finish another book so he probably put 3 in 1, so we ended up with a mix of themes and plotlines and characters that’s too convoluted at times.

And I think Fyodor doesn’t deserve to be read superficially, I don’t want to fall into the simple interpretation of “he said orthodox christianity good and atheism bad”, because the entire part of Ivan’s and Alyosha's conversation at the tavern is a debate Fyodor is having with HIMSELF about faith and god; he puts arguments in Ivan’s mouth that he KNOWS are impossible to oppose (that’s why Alyosha is unable to counter Ivan’s stance of “God might be the creator but I don’t accept the horrendous world he has created”). However, the right-wing dudebros you mention DO interpret him in simple terms because his favoritism between the brothers is TOO obvious. If the narrative punishes one side while forgiving the other for horrible sins then we have Fyodor’s judgment on paper.

I can’t help but hate Dimitri even though Fyodor wants to portray him as a victim, a romantic and a “sentimentalist”. We get to know him through a story in which he’s about to rape a poor young girl because her family needs his money, but because he changed his mind the moment she bowed to the floor and was completely vulnerable below his thumb, we have to forgive him? He’s a hedonist obsessed with money because, as Fyodor tells us, “he has never worked for a cent”. He abuses women and people around him, he lies, etc. I wouldn’t even have cared if he had killed his father. I’d even have thought it was the only good thing he did in his life.

Ivan is punished in the most cruel way: his intellect and mind are taken away from him as he falls into madness. And for what? For rejecting a cruel god and understanding that his country needs the new ideas being born in Europe? For being an intellectual? I feel like Fyodor wanted to show us a contrast between him and Alyosha and I can’t help but laugh because at least Ivan was an ACTIVE character that had an effect on the narrative. Also blaming him for Smerdiacov’s actions? Dostoyevski's thesis through this plotline is basically: “Look at what happens! You intellectuals will write your academic papers and ideas and then stupid people will read them and cause mayhem. Therefore YOU are the gilty one.” But then he turns around and gives us religious sermons and applauds orthodox christianity, as if religion and the church are not the best example of misinterpreting ideas and causing harm and violence.

Also, how does he expect me to feel like Smerdiacov was a bad person? I don’t care that he killed his horrible father. If something, he should’ve done it sooner. Even more, he is the bravest and smartest of the Karamazov brothers because he decided to cut the cause of all their suffering from the root, and even come out rich out of it. He couldn’t choose the fate his mother and he had been given but he could choose freedom and he did so. But again, Fyodor punishes him and tells us he was a coward that would‘ve chosen death before consequence. It’s almost like he thinks that some people are really born to be a slug that lives in the mud and any desire to become something else is an unforgivable sin.

And Alyosha, he could be replaced by a plant in a pot and the plot wouldn’t change a bit. He is passive, ignorant and naive, and Fyodor applauds it because he thinks that that’s what Russian people need; if they are naive and never get in contact with DANGEROUS new ideas and follow their religious teachings everything will be fine. Which is the most idiotic thesis in my opinion. And don’t get me started on the classism and the paternalistic view of “the peasants”, it made me throw up a little. And the misogyny. Ah! Everything young right-wing men who just discovered “nihilism” would love to read and feel vindicated.

Even though I didn't like the general idea of the novel there were some parts that I truly loved, my favorite part being that conversation between Ivan and Alyosha at the tavern. And to finish, Dostoyevski is a men’s writer, he's a masculinist perspective of the worst of the worst, but nonetheless a damn good writer.

#this was a long rant but that's all i could put into it rn #i feel like i could talk about this novel for hours #it's so good and bad at the same time #the brothers karamazov #fyodor dostoyevsky #books #classic literature #russian literature #m #ask

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xuthorpe38 · 1 year

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toddlazarski · 2 years

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“The Terminal List”

The A.V. Club

“I’m not gonna tell you again. Stay off my list.”

A meme-able bit of brute, reminiscent almost of Harrison Ford’s “get off my plane” from Air Force One, it’s the kind of guttural one-second trailer blip that makes a story’s audience targets and muscle and narrative ambition pretty evident. But it is leveled by Chris Pratt, played with an occasional thousand-yard stare so vacuous, so PTSD-soured it looks like he's either forgotten his lines or is taking a beat to consider how the winding paths of his varied career ended him here. Critic’s Choice comedy player, lovable character actor, Marvel lead, Warner animation lead, Hillsong church member, maybe not Hillsong member, he is “muddled,” he admits, and now Andy from Parks and Rec is the type that can recognize a hitman just by his wraparound shades.

The Terminal List is peak dad prestige TV, a political thriller straight from the songbook of Tom Clancy, with the best-seller list trappings of Lee Child and others so capable of framing bloody revenge tales around characters with names you feel your voice drop an octave when speaking aloud: Jack Ryan, Jack Reacher. In this case we have James Reece, as penned by Jack Carr, a former Navy Seal himself, who holds the distinction that the FAA has mandated no domestic flight can takeoff without at least one middle-aged passenger reading one of his books. He writes muscularly about guys with muscles who call each other "brother" and refer to teammates as "my boys" and discuss objectives in terms like “this motherfucker is ours” and grow lush beards and pick each other up from the airport in Jeeps with lines like “don’t tell me you’re calling a fucking Uber” while a Butt Rock version of "Simple Man" tumbles from the car stereo. There are acronyms, oh so many acronyms — IED, SOP, QRF—tossed knowingly with practiced company man aplomb. If you are not a dad or a knowing dad isn't viewing beside you, it almost feels one might manifest on the couch there simply to explain how it is short for “Quick Reaction Force.”

The archetypal flavor profiles are all here: patriotism, heroism, duty, fellowship, shirtless knife-and-gun fights. Also, there is summertime popcorn appeal, for us armchair schlubs to follow along, be a bit awe-inspired by those in a noble-ish trade, to pay witness to the high purpose of communal badassery.

The action opens with a Seal Team Seven job gone awry. An ambush turns into a 15-minute bloodbath. Hurried whispers of “access points” and "trip wires" lead to a bloody cavalcade of yelling and grunts and fire and wounds and neon orange lines emanating from machine guns donned by men wearing tactical gear and night vision-type contraptions leftists will find themselves shaking their heads disapprovingly of, thinking, “our taxes pay for that?”

By the end it all just looks like a lot to clean up. Postured explanations are levied at disbelieving superiors and investigators: "that's not how it went down." To kick it all off we get an opening verse from the bible. There is more than a hint of red state chest thump—a suspect is chided for drinking “light” beer, somehow there’s a Bryson DeChambeau cameo. Also in the mix are Taylor Kitsch as Ben, an incorrigible good-natured bad influence buddy we know is like a brother because he says “I am your brother.” And Constance Wu plays Katie, a war journalist who only cares about the truth. You know because she says, “all I care about is the truth.” Jeanne Tripplehorn is the Secretary of Defense, a whole cloth TV land politician, obvious because she speaks of "leaving things better than I found them."

The List mostly pops with the nuance of an M-16. From the jump the feel is of a bloody, predictable, testosterone-charged romp making occasional detours toward melancholia. Afterall, following such an open there are funerals to tend to. And though he’s given chances to opt out, Reece stands there, stoic in shades and Navy formals, letting you know these lips don’t quiver. There is a deeply human story here, as he deals with memory confusion, untrustworthy flashbacks, general fuzziness, headaches. A doctor flippantly discusses concussion “repercussions” like the Seals were a late-80’s NFL team. Hints of sadness creep in, a bit of pathos, almost—we don’t really get a picture of who those guys in those caskets were, but, well, they were co-workers. It really feels like a relief when Pratt’s personality, that easy neighborly goof charm, briefly emerges with a bucatini joke halfway through the third episode. There are such moments, fleeting, off-ramps that might allow an approach to contemporary post-war literature like Nico Walker’s “Cherry,” with its dark absurdist poetry of military pursuit; or some vibes of the devastating portrait of PTSD in the 2018 film “Leave No Trace.”

But it’s really about the procedure of uncovering and the business of revenge. “Answers or blood?” as Ben says. It starts with a chemist outside of Aleppo, the Seals’ original target, and the first clue in Reece’s late-night brow-furrowed Google searches, operated while popping pills and bottles of beer. It’s hard not to picture Burt Macklin. But hunkered in his man-of-war cave in Coronado, the show and actor seem to fancy themselves a kind of True Detective (an aesthetic from which the opening credits borrow generously). There is a brooding but bent machismo, with such fist-clenched will it feels on the verge of a boxing movie training montage. Reece begins on his odyssey (“this is personal”), toward varying levels of military contract-type baddies, some with offices and lairs absurdly fit for a Bond villain. Here is an altruistic man on fire, with, yes, a unique set of skills, the kind who knows when “we need to get off the grid,” or how to keep your cell phone from acting as a tracking device, increasingly alone, further alienated. Carr seems to ask: who can you trust but your gun? Another acronym, LLTB, or, “Long Live The Brotherhood,” is engraved on one said piece, and you know most of what he is getting at.

As we are confronted, if you can stand to look at all at the daily news, by a circle of abject cowardice and failure of men with guns, who stood pat and frozen and scared or indifferent to a opportunity for righteous duty, right there in front of them, there is a certain catharsis in viewing even fictional heroic violence. Reece packs his bags, his passports,checks a rifle for readiness, takes a pair of hand axes off the wall, and there is an expectant feel of pregame. It is a comfortable groove, a thinking man’s thriller, neither too thinky nor too thrilling. But damn if it doesn’t feel a bit invigorating to go down the dark hallways of this world of men of action, and think, yeah, this motherfucker is ours.

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slothgiirl · 3 years

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the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet.

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship.

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war.

It was what you kept telling yourself.

You would.

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath.

And spot the Red Paladin.

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him.

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle.

You don’t even think.

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance.

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough.

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin.

But he doesn’t pull away or argue.

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure.

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy.

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?”

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number.

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.”

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.”

You laugh.

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill.

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away.

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen.

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die.

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination.

You didn’t understand why.

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished.

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely.

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars.

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes.

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step.

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was.

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith.

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.”

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you.

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers.

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive.

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered.

You meet his gaze head on.

“I might need some help,” he allows.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing.

War made quick brothers out of everyone.

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.”

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features.

You follow his lead.

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space.

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters.

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true.

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.”

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana.

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.”

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly.

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science.

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak.

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks.

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining.

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him.

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy.

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities.

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason.

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself.

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging.

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these.

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you.

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls.

“It’s true,” he says simply.

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here.

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe.

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease.

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in.

It was an unprecedented reaction.

He must feel it too.

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun.

You shift your weight from one foot to another.

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away.

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers.

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave.

He says nothing.

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors.

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone.

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job.

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing.

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl.

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away.

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip.

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest.

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew.

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity.

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours.

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room.

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates.

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel.

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you?

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far.

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers.

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you.

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint.

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt.

In the hall.

Where anyone could see.

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome.

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip.

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you.

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards.

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires.

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy.

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed.

You want more.

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket.

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron.

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge.

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off.

He’s watching.

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well.

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer.

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter.

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat.

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours.

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected.

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out.

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans.

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers.

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in.

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his.

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin.

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.”

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it.

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you.

Keith aquieses.

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you.

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out.

“God, yes,” you utter dazed.

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour.

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down.

You come.

Leaving you boneless.

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out.

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you.

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands.

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds.

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure.

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room.

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth.

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame.

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed.

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you.

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess.

“Right there, right there,” you utter.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax.

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks.

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up.

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life.

You got what people meant about the right partner.

The right sexual energy to match.

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you.

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed.

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in.

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of.

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you.

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed.

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself.

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you.

You wanted to lay there with him.

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway.

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt.

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows.

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow.

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours.

He closes his eyes.

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly.

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.”

So he could joke.

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met.

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring.

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side.

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours.

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed.

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out.

So you say nothing.

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled.

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up.

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing.

You close your eyes.

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check.

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods.

You exhale.

There’s no way to mark the passage of time.

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you.

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely.

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft.

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you.

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you.

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling.

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back.

You give in, sinking down onto his cock.

He moans your name, shutting his eyes.

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat.

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you-

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise.

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh.

Your stomach was taunt.

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly.

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat.

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think.

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out.

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped.

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away.

You falter. Had you read things wrong?

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…”

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform.

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there.

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it.

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears.

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come.

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically.

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely.

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .”

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted.

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take.

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk.

Getting up the next morning is hell.

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages.

Nothing from earth.

That was expected.

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel.

You shower.

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being.

Come was gross.

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens.

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again.

No.

Not going there.

No space weirdness this morning.

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space.

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut.

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked.

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring.

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way.

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish.

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away.

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit.

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful.

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now.

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap.

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon.

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

You connect the dots.

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra.

Only that made no sense.

He was from Earth.

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra?

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days.

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud.

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels.

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks.

Still, it was your assignment.

“It is vital.”

They always said that.

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space.

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.”

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours.

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze.

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it.

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet.

It was intriguing.

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor.

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters.

Keith is pacing outside your door.

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him.

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off.

Your heart ached.

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all.

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first.

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness?

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect.

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge.

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought.

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning.

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all.

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants.

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things.

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony.

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.”

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips.

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb.

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips.

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more.

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #keith kogane imagine #mine #smut #surprisingly soft for being esentially a take on the whole galra heat thing in fanon #part 2 will b just sex lol #feedback much appreciated (as a motivator too)

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

Text

football hysteria x damon albarn

I LOVED THIS SM LMAO !!!!!!!! football obsessed damon is so cute

Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 2.281

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

"Who you supporting?" Graham asked me, handing me a beer as he sat himself beside me on the couch next to me in the middle, Damon sat on the opposing side. Damon had dragged me over to Graham's house to watch the Man City and Chelsea game tonight, and knowing just how competitive Damon came to football, I knew it was better that I simply went along with things rather than moan about how much I really didn't want to spend two hours watching two teams pass around a ball for entertainment.

"Erm, Man City." I replied, quickly flicking the can open to taste the bittersweet barley flavouring of the heineken beer as it embellished the walls of my mouth.

"You don't support Chelsea?" Damon questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.

A small chuckle left my mouth. “Of course I don't, they're shit." I sneered, aware of the havoc that my statement was going to cause. Immediately, Damon's mouth fell agape; stunned by my malevolence, as well as partial shock from the new-found information surrounding my opinions on football.

Graham's laughter rang through the room and my ears as my eyes continued to burn into Damon's piercing gaze, him just as amused as I was. Nobody was as big a football fan as Damon had become. "They're anything but shit," he continued, eyebrows now raised as he scoffed. "You're telling me that you support Man City? Gallagher-brother-Man-City?"

"Okay I'm going to sit between you both,'' Graham announced, swiftly standing up, shoving my body to the side he had just accompanied, placing his body between me and Damon, a blockade to prevent either of us going at each other's throats. "Just so we can all be alive by the end of it."

“Well I wouldn't have fucking invited her over if I knew she supported those manic twats, Graham."

"Piss right off Damon, we're in Graham's flat, not yours." I bit back, completely unphased by his childlike behaviour. It had been made quite apparent to the media that Chelsea were indeed the band dominated by the south, as well as Blur, and Man City were celebrated in the north by Oasis. However, it was quite comical noticing the immediate flush of anger that filled Damon's face after my sly comment. Leaning back into the loveseat, my back adorned the soft feel of the cushion behind me. "Graham, who do you support?" I asked, curiosity laced in my words as the football pitch came into view on the television screen - initiating the beginning of the match.

My eyes were focused on Graham as I watched him toss his glasses onto the coffee table in front of us, which had been cascading with countless bags of crisps and other treats to keep us stuffed as the ninety-minute match played through. "In all honesty, I'm not that phased with football," he began, reaching over to open a bag of crisps. "It's Damon here who's completely obsessed with it."

As the match began, tensions were already built to a high degree between the three of us. Small but meaningless comments had been thrown into the atmosphere of the apartment, merely portraying our silliness and how neither of us had seemingly outgrown the competitive side of our personalities, something that would be more apparent during teenage years. Unfortunately however, very early into the game, Damon's supporting team had decided to skillfully snatch the ball from one of the players, eventually managing to get it into the goal - portraying the first goal scored subsequent to the game's start.

Damon instantaneously rose at the goal, shouting loud enough for the neighbours to hear every single word that rumbled out of his throat. "Told you we were bett-" he said, smugness intertwined between his words so effortlessly, though shamefully his words had been cut off by the sound of the cushion, once placed behind me, now hitting his face. I couldn't help but allow a tiny smirk to illustrate itself on my facial features as I admired his face dripping in absolute bewilderment towards my actions. “What the fuck was that for?” he scoffed, falling back into his side of the sofa, as I sustained the grin on my face, watching him. The atmosphere that was once overflowing with hostility was now completely serenaded with Damon's egocentric giggles, forcing my body to hunch into a sulk at how quickly my team had been warranting for a loss so early into the match.

Mid-way through the game, Graham had decided to go to the corner shop by his apartment to get more beers for us to share, due to us having run out to share between the three of us. I dreaded being alone in the room with the game ongoing with Damon present, full-well knowing that his upbeat jolliness would attempt to torment me upon the fact that he was winning, which, to my demise, was exactly what had occured. The air fell still in the room once the sound of the door slamming etched through the flat walls, my gaze focused entirely on the match following on the screen, attempting to focus my mind on anything but the room that I was currently occupied in - though my peripheral noticed Damon's head almost instantly turned to look in my direction once it was made evident that Graham wasn’t inside the flat anymore. As if reading my mind, he decided to shift his body weight, which was once adorned to the other armrest of the burgundy couch, right next to me, where he attempted to wrap his arm around my shoulders, warming me into an embrace. In spite of this, I could feel his intense stare on my features. Using all my strength to avoid connecting eyes with him, I wasn’t going to admit defeat so easily, my stubbornness proving a point.

Once Damon realised, he carried on watching the game, however his body had continued it's embrace with mine. At one point, I was thinking that the match was going to be a lost cause from the performance shown by Chelsea, However, things began to turn around, and Man City managed to score a goal, to Damon's consternation. The sudden win resulted in me lunging from my seat, swiftly detaching myself from Damon, my whole body cheering towards the goal as it replayed on the screen. What was amusing was that, after I had finished my applause, I noticed that Damon had moved back into his seat by the side of the couch, distancing himself from me. "Aw, you don't want to sit with me anymore?" I sarcastically questioned, not waiting for an answer as a small smile crept on my lips. It was very amusing, pissing Damon off. I must say, watching his ego deflate into nothing but a simple sulk at the corner of a room was really the sight.

"What did I miss?" The sound of graham's voice sounded through the room, paired with the clank of multiple beer bottles as he reached into the plastic carrier bag to place them on the table. Each and every one had an individual water-streak pattern, indicating that they had just been chilled - when they taste best.

"Man City scored!" I exclaimed, reaching out for one of the glass bottles as I got the bottle opener to unfasten it from its metal clasp, promptly taking a swig from the beverage. The intent was, of course, to provide Graham with the extra knowledge upon the events that occurred during the match whilst he was absent, however knowing myself, I had also wanted to remind Damon of said occurrences, to surge him to the edge of his frustration. Exclaiming it at the top of my lungs held just enough power to do just that.

A chuckle immediately left Graham's mouth from my enthusiasm. "Need me to sit between you both again?" He jokingly asked, yet an element of seriousness was laced between his words.

“Depends if Damon's gonna stop sulking or not.” I replied, focusing my view on the game playing on the screen.

"You're the one who was fucking throwing the cushions!" Damon shouted, reaching over to grab himself a beer.

"Because you were pissing me off!" I answered, shifting my gaze onto Damon, who was, to my surprise, staring directly at me. There was a certain look of annoyance glazed on his features, though the agitation seemed to subside as soon as we locked stares, as if he was longing for my eyes to bear their sight toward him, as if it was an examination, an analysation to confirm whether we were still on good terms or not; of course we were, while conflicting preferences drew evident tears between us during that moment in particular. After a few seconds had passed, Damon leaned back into the cushion, carrying on watching the game unfold, satisfied with his response from my eyes. Switching my gaze over to Graham, I took notice of a look of question illustrated on his features, to which I decided to mime that it was alright, in order to move myself next to Damon once again. It would've been a lie, and a mere understatement, to say that I hadn't missed his arms around me.

Bunching up next to him, enough space was made to allow graham to sit himself down next to me, though that thought was the last passing my mind; my body was shivering from nervousness, the close proximity between us, regardless of our romantic acquaintance, never failed to bloom butterflies at the pit of my stomach. Due to my body's weight pressing down onto the cushion next to him, it was obvious that he was aware that I moved to sit next to him - but at a cause of his stubbornness, him averting all his attention onto me, admiring me as if I was the only living being in the apartment, a home that hadn't even belonged to me, would never happen - it would take much more to result in his feign of irritation to melt away. Placing my arm around his shoulder, I granted my hand to reach up to his beautiful head of hair, my fingers caressing his strands gently as I brushed any parts that were sticking out on the sides of his head. His arms were wrapped around one another, like a child encompassed in an angry stupor at their parent due to them not allowing them a packet of sweets from the grocery store, though I was playing at his heartstrings, aware of just how much he adored me playing with his dirty blonde locks.

For a short sum of time, we both sat there, my hands never halting their actions. The next few minutes of the game played out of continuous dribbling and passing to other teammates, oftentimes resulting in the other team taking hold of the ball and running around with it for a while until their attempt to score. Randomly, Damon's arm had released itself from its shared embrace with the other, engulfing my body with his as he encased his left arm around my shoulders. We were in a sense of comfort with one another, though from Damon's avoidance of my stare it was made obvious that he was still in the least carrying a small element of annoyance, nevertheless, as I allowed my eyes to linger onto his delicate, paradisiacal features, holding back a grin was seen much easier said than done, a small curvature sneaking itself on his lips.

"Look who's won." Graham mumbled, his voice detaching me out of my trance that I was enamoured in.

A laugh rang itself out of my throat as I admired the lengthy team cheering as they enveloped one another in a massive embrace. "Told you they were better!" I grinned as I diverted my gaze onto Damon, the same look of frustration painted on his demeanour, still avoiding his eyes on me. "You want a kiss?" I asked, tilting my head in order to make sure I was the main thing in his sight, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep up his facade so easily. "Kiss kiss?"

I continued until his eyes met mine. It was as if, for a short segment of time we were frozen in place, momentary seconds passing of us merely marvelling at the view illustrated forth one another, my hands snaking their way around his neck as I leaned in slightly, noticing his blue orbs fall onto my lips, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his mind wandered through fields of appraisal. It was then where I couldn’t hold resistance for any longer, and I doubted that Damon could, bringing my head forward as I let my lips latch onto his, allowing time to flow as they lingered still before he kissed me back with gentle force, enough to notify me of his desire that encompassed him just as much as me. The kiss held innocence, portrayed adoration in its true beauty, nevertheless, also embodying eagerness, a yearning of lust.

"I'm going to be honest," I mumbled, removing my lips away from his, panting as I attempted to recollect my breath. "I don't actually support Man City."

"Of course you fucking don't." Damon laughed, our lips connecting once again as he perched his head forward, intoxicating me with the very thing that I desired most in that significant moment.

"If you're gonna shag, please go home." Graham groaned, causing our bodies to jolt at the sudden awareness that we weren’t alone together. Pulling away instantly, a wave of embarrassment covered my cheeks as we looked at one another, infatuation the single thing flowing out of our eyes.

“Sorry Graham.”

#i loved this so much please #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #90s #blur band #britpop #graham coxon #imagines #band imagines

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snackleggg · 3 years

Text

Loud music and hard of hearing conspiracy

~~~

An Unidentified Flying Ship one shot

~~~

The music was blaring loudly but from the hallway at least it was a little muffled. Not entirely, Wes could still pick out the words to whatever awful pop song was playing if he focused but it was muted enough that he could at least ignore it.

How did I end up here?

A week ago everything had been fine, normal. Then everything went downhill.

It started when everyone was getting hyped about prom because it was only a week away. What was once an occasional subject that was mentioned once or twice in conversation quickly dominated the forefront of everyone's minds.

Of course with it came everyone talking about dates and Wes had rolled his eyes at the relationship drama that would proceed the school dance.

"What about you Wes?" His twin brother Kyle had asked.

Wes at the time was glaring at Fenton from across the cafeteria, totally zoned out from the world around him and whatever conversation was going on at the table but his brother's question had reeled him back in.

He blinked, turning his attention to Kyle who sat beside him "What about what?"

"Are you going with someone to prom?" One of the others at the table asked. Oh so the conversation had drifted there.

Before Wes could answer no, he was going to be too busy trying to gather evidence to expose Fenton someone else at the table went "I'm pretty sure he wants to ask Fenton to prom"

Wes' brain blue screened for a moment but when he saw everyone at the table nodding he was immediately snapped out of his stupor "wha- NO! Of course not! Why would you even think!?" Wes fumbled but then Kyle put his hand on Wes' shoulder.

"Bro, no offence but we all know you have a crush on Fenton and that you're just using your conspiracy theories as an excuse" Kyle said while looking at Wes sympathetically.

"I don't- I'm not using anything as an excuse, Fenton is Phantom! How can you guys not see it!?" Wes said, he was pointedly ignoring the heat he felt rush to his cheeks.

Another person at their table just shook their head in pity "Oh you poor thing, still in denial about your feelings. You know well still accept you no matter your sexuality right Wes?" They said and Wes heard his brother mumble something about how sad it was Wes thought ghosts were real.

At this point Wes was left completely speechless at the way all his friends seemed to agree with the outrageous notion that he had a crush on Danny Fenton. A crush.

Wes just stood up and walked away with his tray of half eaten slop. He could hear his friends sighing over how hopeless and oblivious he was.

It didn't stop there though.

Later that day at home Kyle, Wes and their older brother Easton were in the living room together quietly doing their own things. Kyle doing some homework, Easton texting someone and Wes looking over all the pictures he had gotten of Phantom after the fight earlier that day, unfortunately all were too blurry to make out anything Wes could actually use as evidence.

Then Kyle broke the comfortable silence.

"Hey Easton, you think you can give Wes some advice for asking his crush to prom?" Kyle asked, not even looking up from the algebra equation he was doing.

If Wes had been drinking anything he would've done a spit take, instead he settled for just staring at his brother in growing horror.

"Hmm? Crush? Oh you mean Jazz's younger brother?" Easton asked as he looked up from his phone. Wes already knew that Easton was good friends with Jazz Fenton but he became even more horrified by the fact that he had immediately connect the 'crush' Kyle had mentioned to Danny Fenton.

Kyle just nodded and Wes was still too shocked to say anything as he looked between his brothers.

"Well, you can never go wrong with chocolates and just straight up asking" Easton said with a shrug before looking back down at his phone.

Finally Wes regained he ability to speak "NO! I don't have a crush on Fenton!" Wes exclaimed.

"Wes you shouldn't be embarrassed to ask for help. I'm your brother, you can't really hide the fact that you have a huge crush on Fenton from me" Easton said simply and some part of Wes was thankful that neither of his brothers are currently looking at him because he knew his face was probably almost as red as his hair.

The larger part of Wes though was shocked and horrified by what his brother had just said.

Not for the first time that day Wes just got up and left without another word.

The rest of the week didn't fair any better.

Anytime Wes inforned his brothers or friends that he was going to tail Fenton to finally expose that he was Phantom they just rolled their eyes before going "Are you finally going to ask him to prom?" And everytime without fail Wes would turn bright red before stomping off in whatever direction Fenton had ran off to, muttering under his breath about how he did NOT have a crush on Fenton.

Finally, Friday he snapped.

"WHY!? Why does everyone think I have a crush on Fenton!? I thought it was obvious that I hate him!" Wes yelled after Kyle had off handedly asked if he had asked Fenton to prom yet.

"Duh, it's because you're pretty much infatuated with him" Kyle stated like it was obvious.

"I'm NOT infatuated!" Wes said.

"Then what do you have to say about all those pictures you take of him? Or following him and his friends around? The fact that you have an entire notebook filled with little facts about him that no one else would care to notice?" Kyle pointed out.

"That's all evidence! It's me trying to expose that he is really Phantom!" Wes argued.

"Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that but you can't live in denial forever bro. I mean why would you need to keep a catalogue of his interests or have so many photos of him just being normal and not at all 'ghostly' " Kyle said while making air quotes "that stuff can't be used as evidence so why still keep it?"

"Because! Be... because..." Wes stopped. Why did he keep all of those things? They weren't particularly helpful in exposing Fenton so why?

"It's cause you like-like him. Prom is tomorrow so I'm sorry to say your denial made you miss your chance to ask him out" Kyle said while patting Wes on the back.

Wes once again stood from the couch and walk away, up to his room and slammed the door behind him.

He spent the whole rest of the day just laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling. He went to prom the next day because some of his friends insisted he couldn't miss it.

For most of the night he had felt numb, especially as he watched people dance and talk and laugh together while he practically glued himself to the wall.

Then he spotted Fenton and Wes was hit again with his brothers words 'it's because you're pretty much infatuated with him'.

Wes hated to admit it but Fenton actually looked good. He wore a white dress shirt with a dark green bow tie and black slacks. It was simple but he pulled it off quite well and Wes couldn't help but notice how the flashing lights of the gym reflected off of Danny's ice blue eyes. How the constantly changing angle of the light highlighted his face a hundred different ways and none of them looked unflattering, at least not to Wes.

The music was loud, he could barely hear people standing right next to him so of course Wes couldn't hear what Danny and Sam were talking about on the other side of gym but Danny seemed to laugh at something she said and Wes couldn't tear his eyes away. He could almost imagine the laugh in his head, light and easy becoming a soft chuckle towards the end.

Wes looked down at the plastic cup full of punch he held in his hand. He could practically smell that someone had spiked it.

He soon found himself stumbling out of the gym because everything was so bright and loud and he needed more space between himself and Danny, definitely more than just a gymnasium's length at least until he figured out why the heck he felt his face flush when he thought about Danny's laugh.

So that's how Wes ended up sitting on the cool tile floors of the school's empty hallway. The lights were off so it was dark but the smallest bit of light poured in through the high up windows front the street lamps outside so it wasnt pitch black, even if it was hard to make out any details of his surroundings.

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at the swirling cup of liquid in his hands.

Eventually he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and he didn't need to lift his head to know it was Danny.

"Hey Wes" Danny's familiar voice echoed a little in the empty hallway, it wasn't the same kind of echo that his voice gained when he was Phantom Wes absentmindedly noted. He heard Danny sit down next to him on the cool tile floor.

"What brings you out here? Would've thought you'd be in the gym with your friends" Danny said.

Wes jostled the cup a little with his hand before gesturing to it "I think someone spiked the punch" Wes said instead of giving a straight answer to Danny's question.

"Oh? Good thing I was never a fan of punch. You good?" Wes could've sworn he heard actual concern leak into Danny's voice.

"Yeah, I only took a few sips" Wes shrugged and he leaned backwards against the metal lockers that lined the walls.

"What about you? Why're you out here?" Wes could now see Danny in his peripheral vision quite well. His legs were spread out straight infront of him unlike how Wes had his knees tucked against his chest. He also seemed to be leaning against the lockers behind them, looking relaxed against the cool metal.

"Technus decided to try and take over the DJ booth. I managed to stop him pretty quickly but I needed a breather so I came out here" Danny said, making a vague gesture with his hand.

"Hmm" Was Wes' only reply. The source of all his troubles, both old and new was sitting right next to him and they were holding a proper conversation like real people. No threats of exposing identities, no witty banter or mocking remarks.

To someone who didn't know any better it would almost seem like they were on civil terms with eachother.

What kind of terms are we on?

They weren't friends, not by a long shot. But enemies seemed too strong a word now that Wes thought about it. It wasn't like they were physically hurting eachother like Danny's other enemies. It was less literal battling and more metaphorical and figurative battling.

But after tonight would I even be able to do that anymore?

Wes couldn't just ignore the revelation forced upon him. He wasn't one for ignoring the obvious and when Kyle presented the evidence he had to admit his feelings were a tad obvious.

A comfortable silence was now between the two and Wes turned his head to look at Danny directly. His breath caught in his throat.

Danny was completely relaxed leaning against the lockers behind him. His hair was slightly disheveled, more so than usual. His eyes were closed and he had a faint smile on his face. The dim light shining in made his pale skin look like it was glowing, giving him an ethereal look. Wes was pretty sure that he could only glow in ghost form but that didn't stop the way the light reflected to make it seem otherwise. Wes also became hyper aware of the fact that they were sitting very close to eachother, if he leaned to the side a bit they would be brushing shoulders.

'Yeah, super obvious' Wes thought as he felt a blush find it's way onto his cheeks.

Wes managed to pry his eyes away and looked back down at his cup of spiked punch.

"Screw it" he mumbled before downing the whole thing.

"Hmm? What was that?" Danny asked as he peeked an eye open.

"Screw it" Wes said louder as he grabbed Danny by his collar and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Danny froze in place as Wes pulled back. The blush stood out against Danny's pale skin and Wes knew he was probably as red as tomato as he spoke "Wanna go dance? With me?" Wes asked cautiously.

Danny blinked before a doppy smile found it's way onto his face "Yeah, sure" he said.

Wes pushed himself up and held out a hand which Danny took without a moment's hesitation.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #my writing #wes weston #kyle weston #easton weston #danny fenton #unidentified flying ship #ufs #one shot #ficlet #drabble #my first time writing Wes #how'd I do?

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fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

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♡〜could i req flirting with kaeya or childe? maybe a bit dirty jokes and just flirting/teasing (playfully) with them to try to get them flustered or something.... i love them, thats it thats the statement-anon〜♡

Kaeya Alberich x Knight of Favonius male reader

I don’t actually if that’s a corset or not.

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 962

Warnings: one moan, suggested nsfw

Over the past few months, you trained to become a Knight of Favonius.

You were strong, confident, vigilant and polite; although you were also older, garnering more experience than others.

It was safe to say you were better than the other candidates, even surpassing the maid knight Noelle, and it was quite obvious you were to be chosen at the next recruitment.

It was no surprise when you became an official knight.

The only thing somewhat shocking about your recruitment was that Kaeya was not allowed to give his own feedback on you. You didn’t dwell on it at the moment, but you had a feeling it was because of your extensive, for lack of better terms, relationship with the Cavalry Captain.

How such information had become public - or knight knowledge, you didn’t know. Kaeya wasn’t one to run his mouth on his personal secrets.

As a consolation for not being able to praise you, something quite silly to console, but the quartermaster only wanted time with you, Kaeya was taking you out to buy your first corset.

“You see, corsets are not only for beauty.” The captain would remind you. “They provide support, if tightened properly.”

In order to convince you, he had to assure that no, the corset would not cut off your respiration or circulation; and yes, his claims were correct. After all, many knights wore corsets of their own. Doubting was normal and natural, but the amount of times he had to reassure you were countless.

The shop had provided you with a dressing room. It was a big, private, and enclosed area; you could do many things here that included the opposite of the room’s actual purpose.

“And you’re sure I’ll be fine?” You call out from behind the room divider.

“Extremely sure.” He replies confidently. “So much so, that I can tell you confidently that I fight worse without one.”

“The Cavalry Captain, Kaeya, worse without a simple item of clothing?” You laugh audibly.

He replies with a laugh of his own, “Believe it or not, they serve a purpose.”

You don’t give him a response for a couple seconds. He presumes it’s because you’re struggling with your corset, so he takes the opportunity to tease you about it.

"How hard could it be to tighten a corset?"

His jest almost gets to your head until you realize he's only trying to fluster you. "Says the person who's been wearing a corset every day for years."

"Touche. Even so, I don't recall spending hours trying."

He may not be able to see your eye roll, but he can certainly sense it. "It has not been hours."

He drops that subject, opting for another. "Even if it hasn't, would you like a bit of help?"

"You insisted I do it on my own, plus you only want to share a few kisses before leaving me to do it alone." Some other times he promised to help you dress, but the next second you were making out and slowly undressing again. He was not to be trusted in a situation like this.

"I'm offering my help now."

"No need."

It was a little hard to tighten your corset, especially since Kaeya insisted you do it without guidance as you would every consequent morning, but you’d managed. As you stepped out of the small room divider, your lover looked you up and down.

You could see a small, playful smirk on his lips and a familiar attraction in his eyes. “What do you think?”

He whistles in awe, continuing to admire your figure. “The corset’s beautiful.” He doesn’t mention the lack of shirt - perhaps ignoring it on purpose.

You roll your eyes, “This was for support, was it not?”

Kaeya nods, standing up from the waiting chair. He makes his way over to you, closing in on you almost like prey. If it weren’t for your past intimate experiences together, it would’ve been a little intimidating.

Now in front of each other, a small distance apart, he reaches out a hand to touch your corset. However, his fingers trail down from your bicep, their destination still being the item of clothing itself. He meant to do that on purpose, you were sure, and the path his fingers followed seemed to burn your bare skin in their wake.

The moment is over in an instant, which is slightly disappointing.

“Firm boning.” He squeezes a part of the skeleton between his grip, somehow slipping a finger on the side pressed to your body. While feeling the middle to be tight enough, you’d forgotten the upper and lower parts.

“Not tight enough, though, see?” He wiggles the finger between the corset and your body for emphasis, but all you can focus on is him. He looks up at you, catching your eyes.

“Something you’re seeing on me, recruit?”

“Just your beauty.”

The cavalry captain bites his lips, eyes suddenly half-lidded clouded with lust as they stare at your lips. “I promised myself we would buy your corset without any distractions.”

“What sort of distractions?” You had to hold back from kissing him right then and there, for the sake of flirty banter.

“I’m sure many things come to mind.” He finally looks at you, eyes intense and piercing. “Don’t they?”

“Oh, plenty of things come to mind.” You agree, hands landing on his hips and slowly moving to hook together around them. Kaeya moans quietly when a lost finger presses against his ass a little, it’s not loud enough for you but you can hear it again later. “I just want you to be more specific.”

The Cavalry Captain went on to list many, many things which he wants to do. Needless to say, you might have done a few.

#kaeya x male reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader #anonymousrequest

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blushing-titan · 3 years

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Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about chapter 138 again, and I came to a few conclusions. First and foremost, I’m surprised at the amount of Mikasa’s fans who are happy about the possibility of the cabin vision being an actual AU. Mikasa has been one of my favorite characters pretty much since the beginning, but I feel like - if the AU is real - it’s a huge step back for her progress and general well-being. Let me explain my point below - warning, it’s pretty long! I’ll be using manga panels (I obviously don’t own them, all credits go to the author!), and there will be spoilers.

My perspective on Eremika

I’m a firm believer that Eren and Mikasa’s relationship is a bit too unhealthy for Mikasa, at least in it’s current state - to me, it’s clear as a day that it’s way too unbalanced. Mikasa just invests more in it - it’s been shown countless times, both in the manga and anime, that Eren’s safety and well-being is her top priority. He’s on her mind most of the times and she constantly wants to be near him - she thinks of him as her safe place and home.

But what about Eren? He’s often irritated and suffocated by her overprotectiveness. He’s quite a proud person who doesn’t want to be constantly saved - despite generally needing it sometimes. In my eyes, it’s another imbalance - Eren wants to be the strong one, but since Mikasa is just naturally better at that, he constantly feels belittled, like it’s a form of rivalry.

On top of that, throught the entire series Eren has his own set of dreams and goals that doesn’t necessarily always revolve around Mikasa - all while Mikasa makes up her plans and goals solely around Eren. She even admits that all she wants is just to be at his side.

What concerns me too, however, is that Mikasa often puts Eren’s safety and well-being over her own - and it’s something that she realizes.

Sometimes, Mikasa’s friends act as a voice of reason, but when someone tries to raise any objections or concerns against Eren, she usually backs him up or tries to rationalize his actions. In the example below, Jean is concerned about the scar that Mikasa got after she got attacked by Eren (right after Eren lost control over his titan in chapter 12).

On top of that, Mikasa can be very passive, and even uncritical when it comes to Eren’s more questionable actions. There are times in which the latter can get a bit too blunt, or even straight up mean, but Mikasa either protects him, tries to justify his actions or is literally immobilized by them - like in the scene in which Eren insults her and proceeds to fight Armin, who’s been trying to back her up. Notice how Mikasa is unable to stop Eren from continuously attacking Armin (when, a reminder, the latter one stood up for her), but immediately jumps in to stop Armin from attacking Eren. You can clearly see that even she is shocked by her reaction.

We can also see her being in denial about Eren’s hurtful actions later on. She doesn’t even want to talk about it when Jean brings it up:

She’s also still concerned and worried about Eren a few chapters later, after he had done and stated that he’s about to do terrible things - even at times when her other friends were endangered. This time, it’s Armin who tries to act as a voice of reason.

Now, before we get ahead of ourselves:

Do I think that Eren doesn’t care about Mikasa, or even hate her (as he said)? No - she’s obviously extremely important to him and he was definitely lying during the table scene. Personally, I’ve never seen him having any romantic feelings towards her, but that doesn’t mean anything - love doesn’t always have to be romantic and I 100% believe that she’s still someone who he holds very dear to his heart. There are many moments that show that he’s also very protective of her, and that - along with Armin - she’s one of the most important people in his life.

But my point still stands - aside from that, the relationship is just too unbalanced to be considered healthy, especially for Mikasa. Both Eren and Mikasa see it in different light, which often cause them to collide. I just can’t help but feel like Mikasa sacrifices too much for it, too - she often ends up jeopardizing her safety, constantly worries about Eren and clashes with her friends because of it. To some extent, Eren may be doing some of these things as well - but let’s be 100% honest, never nearly as much as Mikasa does. He fiercly protects her when she’s in danger and backs her up when he agrees with her, but at the end of the day he has his own goals and opinions. He doesn’t fixate himself with Mikasa nearly as much as Mikasa does it with him - he’s never jealous of anything but her skills, meanwhile she's often on alert when he’s around other girls. In the manga, she’s displaying jealousy over Annie and Historia, in the anime we can add Hanji to that pool, while in A.O.T. Wings of Freedom she’s also jealous of Sasha and even freckled Ymir - all while Eren remains oblivious and - in these situations, rightfully so - annoyed.

We know that there are reasons why Mikasa treats Eren like this. He obviously saved her life when they were children, but it’s also because she was strongly traumatized by losing both her biological family, and then people who took care of her right after that. It’s only natural that she does anything in her power to not go through that again...

...but it’s important to question if the way her relationship with Eren goes - how she commits to it 100% and how it affects her - is really the best way for her to heal and eventually live a happy life. I believe that Eren himself saw that it was becoming too toxic for Mikasa - and, considering that he actually cares for her and knows that he doesn’t have all the time in the world, he focused on making her move on. In my opinion, that’s why he wanted to push her away during the table scene. It’s also why he tried to get rid of the scarf that Louise brought to him. Even if the execution is far from perfect, he still wants what’s best for her, so he tries to put an end to enabling her unhealthy coping practices. He wants her to live a long, happy life.

Soooo...how does “the cabin AU” fit into all of this?

The answer is simple - it doesn’t. It’s a huge mixture and repetition of everything that’s harmful about Mikasa’s obsession with Eren. It’s a confirmation that Mikasa would be able to leave the entire world for 4 years of constant lying to herself. To betray her friends, leave everything behind, act as if everything was going to be okay and, in turn, make it all worse for herself. Because let me remind you one thing - Mikasa will go on living after Eren looses to the titan curse...but what will she do from now on? Will she stay in the cabin forever, alone and with no one to talk to - no one to share the pain after saying her final goodbye to Eren? Will she come back to the war-ridden world and face her old friends - like Armin who must have been frantically looking for her and Eren? Some of these friends may not want to have anything to do with her after all that - some may be already dead. Maybe there’s no place to go at all.

In my opinion, Eren being okay with this would ultimately prove that he doesn’t care about Mikasa’s wellbeing - and, as I’ve said before I just don’t think that’s the case at all. On top of that, as stated in the beginning, it would serve as a regress of Mikasa’s character - she wouldn’t be able to overcome her weaknesses, which would only make her life harder in the long run. Therefore, I simply can’t accept this vision to be an AU. What do I think it was, then?

Mikasa believes in Eren’s good heart, despite all awful things he commits - she repeatedly says that he does it all for them - his friends...and yet she wants to believe that there must have been a way to not let it all happen. A part of her may be blaming herself, which is why she questions if she could have changed anything by giving him a different answer.

To me, it’s very obvious and I have to admit: I was horrified to see the amount of fans saying “If only she hadn’t family-zoned him, so many people would still be alive!”. Mikasa was NEVER to blame here and her answer should never have a force to change something like that. At the end of the day, it was Eren’s decision to go on with the rumbling, and I hate to see Mikasa (and the fans, too!) putting any blame for it on her.

In conclusion, I really believe that the vision was Mikasa’s daydream - most likely created as a coping mechanism since at this point she knew what was about to happen - what she had to do. Not any AU flashback, but rather a poor, traumathised girl trying to come to terms with the cruel reality - and ultimately reclaiming her strength. In her mind, she comes back to her safe place for a few moments, just to get a bit of comfort - a place where she and Eren live peacefully and safely. In fact, the panel below may suggest that she was dreaming about something similar ever since the training days:

I also believe that, at some point, Eren enters that dream - perhaps somehow through paths, or is sent there by Ymir. There, he once again reminds Mikasa that he wants her to live long, be free and forget about him.

I think in the end, Mikasa rejects that fake utopia, finally understanding that it could never happen and it was not her fault. She accepts the reality as it is and stops rationalizing Eren’s actions. She also comes to terms with her feelings towards him, but won’t let it cloud her judgement anymore. She will remember him and cherish these memories forever, but acknowledges that it has gone too far - she chooses humanity, the world and finally: a long, happy life for her. Just like Eren would want for her.

This time, Mikasa wraps the scarf around herself.

If you’re here, wow - thank you so much for reading, it means a lot! I’m sorry for any mistakes I’ve made while writing - English is not my first language and I didn’t really have anyone to beta-read this long wall of text xd Hope I made my points clear - and just to clarify, my text is not an invitation for any ugly Mikasa haters. As I’ve said before, she’s one of my favorite characters and I hope for the best for her - she’s been through so much, poor girl needs a break :C

#anti eremika #mikasa ackerman #eren jeager #snk 138 #snk spoilers #snk 139 #eremika rant #Mikasa shouldn't exist just for toxic shipping ok #snk theory #snk ending #snk leaks #mikasa

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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A guide to the 02 kids’ personalities and overall demeanors

I’ve already covered the deeper details of each 02 kid’s character arc and development throughout the series, but I figured I might dedicate a more specific post about the complexities of their outer personalities, and their behavior patterns on a day-to-day basis. 02 is the kind of series that doesn’t really spell out what the characters tend to do or don’t tend to do, or what boundaries they will and won’t cross, which means it can be a bit of a challenging task to track their behavior over fifty episodes and figure out the patterns. Fortunately, these characters are written remarkably consistently over said episodes, so we have a lot to work with!

Disclaimer before we continue: In general, all of my 02-based meta is specifically written for the Japanese version in mind, but this especially applies to this one, because the majority of the nuances of the demeanor and personality traits described below were not retained in the American English dub at all (please see this post for more detail). As a result, please understand that if you’re working from the perspective of having only seen that dub, and the contents of the below post sound completely different, that would be why.

Daisuke and V-mon

Believe it or not, I would say that Daisuke is actually the most difficult to nail the nuances of out of this entire cast. This is probably a really weird thing to hear when the usual fandom mantra is that he’s “flat” or “lacking in development”, but I think the deceptive part is that while he’s simple-minded and himself doesn’t think in complex terms, analyzing his behavior as a whole and how he approaches things actually involves a lot of very delicate balances, and getting that exactly right can be very easy to mess up. Daisuke’s not a rude jerk who looks down on anyone, not in the slightest -- but he’s also not a saint who can do no wrong, either!

I think the easiest analogy (which I’ve brought up several times on this blog already) is that Daisuke is like a puppy, but not just any puppy -- a tiny puppy that barks very loudly at anything it perceives as threatening (regardless of whether it’s actually threatening), makes its feelings very clear with obvious likes and dislikes, and can do some phenomenally stupid things in a bid to please others, but in the end means no malice and only wants you to be happy.

This is to the point where I’m just going to have to bullet-point this, because there’s so much going on at once:

Excessively emotional: One of Daisuke’s earliest profiles refers to him as having “an excessively large range of human emotions”, and really, a lot of the humor surrounding him has to do with the fact he has incredibly dramatic, overblown reactions to nearly everything around him. So if he gets a little annoyed or suspicious of people making fun of him, he tends to get really dramatic about being upset, and when he experiences only a minor setback, he acts like it’s the end of the world, and when he’s emotionally hurt, he sometimes even gets set on the verge of crying (you can especially hear this in Kiuchi Reiko’s delivery). Even Daisuke himself doesn’t tend to get caught up in it for too long and gets over things surprisingly quickly, so you can take it as him just constantly being too wrapped up in the mood -- but when it really is a serious situation, he gets truly emotionally invested in it, too.

Too easy to read: Because Daisuke wears his heart on his sleeve and is dramatic about everything, he’s awful at hiding anything. Any attempt at trickery or trying to disguise his intentions quickly blows up in his face because he’s too simple-minded and too transparent.

Not malicious: Daisuke only ever lashes out or gets angry at others when he thinks others are doing something he disapproves of, or when he thinks he’s being attacked; he’s very warm and kind to everyone otherwise (even in the earliest parts of the series, when he’s at his roughest, you might notice he’s very soft around Chibimon, as if understanding that his partner is now in a very small and delicate form and needs to be treated accordingly). In other words, Daisuke is very quick to get defensive, but he has no malice or reason to be condescending towards anyone otherwise, and he’s perfectly friendly with people even when they’d provoked him earlier (because he doesn’t really hold grudges). He doesn’t attack people without reason; even when he voices dissent against what someone is doing, he very rarely, if ever, insults a person or their character directly. Even when he’s trying to state his opinions (such as when he bids for the others to accept Ken), he never forces them down others’ throats and accepts that they disagree with him, even if he’s clearly not happy with their disagreement.

Easily critical and suspicious: Daisuke is a very bluntly straightforward and honest person, and he seems to get most set off by people who act suspicious; note how his early-series outbursts towards Takeru tend to be when Takeru’s acting evasive, and in Hurricane Touchdown, he catches onto Wallace’s shady behavior even before he starts flirting with Miyako (Daisuke’s own method of trying to seem attractive to others involves just “doing something cool and hoping it’ll impress others”, so he seems to dislike the concept of flirting as a whole). Because of that, he catches easily onto “things looking off”, so he tends to call it out (even if sometimes he’s overdoing it and there isn’t actually anything significant to be upset about).

Supportive and adoring of others: Other than the moments when he gets set off, fundamentally speaking, Daisuke likes other people, is perfectly willing to acknowledge them or heap praise on them when they do something awesome, and generally cares for their well-being. He’s easily defers to others when he understands they’re better than him at something, and he even has a decently realistic scope of his limits (see how he’s perfectly aware he’s likely to lose the soccer game in 02 episode 8, and figures he might as well enjoy the experience). This is even taken to its logical conclusion in the Kizuna drama CD when he “credits” his friends for giving him amazing and insightful advice when all of it was actually pretty ordinary stuff they’d done offhandedly. It also means that, given his penchant for getting emotionally invested in everything, he has a huge emotional stake in making sure his friends are doing okay, and supports them accordingly.

Deferential to seniors/elders: Tying into the above, you may notice that Daisuke takes a properly respectful and soft tone towards his elders and seniors in nearly all occasions, even to the point of occasionally using proper polite-form language around them. All things considered, Daisuke is a pretty well-behaved kid.

Constantly getting strung around: As much as Daisuke looks like he’s aggressive, in actuality, it’s very easy to get him to back down if you argue against him strongly enough, and since he has such a “the heck is that?!” attitude all of the time, you can see him constantly getting strung around and at the mercy of things happening around him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have enough will to put his foot down when it becomes a really important subject (especially in the second half of the series), but it’s very often when he’ll be talked down by others around him and shrink with an “oh...okay...” In fact, this is why a lot of his actions aren’t nearly as reckless as they might be otherwise; as much as he’s a bit hot-headed and likes to lead the attack, he also has a sense of self-preservation and intimidation when things look a bit too dangerous, and will only push forward in such a case when there’s something he really believes in at the other side of it.

Lacking in self-awareness and insecure as a result: While Daisuke doesn’t have any signs of persistent self-hatred (on the contrary, there are times he arguably comes off as overconfident), it also seems that he has practically zero awareness of how he himself is doing -- which means that he ends up rolling over like an idiot trying to get others’ approval and trying to impress them, even when it’d be clear to anyone else that he already has that approval. This also likely ties into the fact that he’s perfectly capable of acknowledging others’ accomplishments and skills (see above), so you might even think that the problem isn’t so much that he thinks he’s bad as much as he keeps comparing himself to people he perceives as being that much more awesome. (Perhaps symbolic of this, he apparently has a complex over being shorter than Takeru and Ken, despite the fact that he seems to be of perfectly average height for a kid his age.) It seems that his only bar for how he’s doing is dependent on everyone’s reactions around him, hence why his ridiculous antics are significantly less pronounced when he has proper emotional support and friends to keep him in check. It’s also important to consider that this applies to his apparent crush on Hikari as well; his crush mainly manifests in wanting her approval very badly, and it’s mostly visible in terms of him losing a ton of brain cells in her presence and bending over backwards to please her or impress her. He never actually says in words that he’s interested in her, nor does he ever show signs of intending to seriously ask her out, so it’s something that’s only apparent because of this behavior, and it’s very likely he hasn’t even seriously thought through what would happen if she actually accepted him in return. You can basically see this as an extreme version of the way Daisuke tries to get approval from everyone else, and this trait of his noticeably dies down whenever there’s more important things at hand, or when he seems to be in the midst of getting proper validation from those around him.

Simple-minded and pragmatic: What’s usually referred to as Daisuke being an “idiot” comes from the fact he doesn’t play well with complex thinking, tends to settle for very simple explanations or answers, and more thoughtful types like Ken or Iori will often have to fill that part in for him. However, because Daisuke is so simple-minded, he’s sometimes the most pragmatic person in the group, because he doesn’t overthink things or get principles of theory caught up into everything. So if Ken is clearly not showing any indication of doing bad things anymore and is actively working to help, Daisuke believes he should be allowed to help regardless of what he’d done in the past, and if they’re dealing with the situation of potentially having to kill a living enemy, Daisuke points out that hesitation would have resulted in even more casualties. In essence, in a situation where everyone’s running mental loop-de-loops, Daisuke will usually be the first one to snap them all out of it and go “uh? Guys?” Moreover, this trait of his makes him very good at spotting glaring threads or asking questions about the elephant in the room, because since he works best with things that are right in front of him, he can’t not notice it.

Enjoys the little things: Because Daisuke is so simple-minded, it’s very easy to please him (this is why his chosen career path is something as simple as ramen making). Daisuke likes his friends, and appreciates even simple things around him, so he’s happy with even simple pieces of happiness -- hence, why he’s fine with potentially losing the soccer game in 02 episode 8, because he’s ready to simply just savor the experience of getting to play against a respectable and formidable opponent.

Note that the main reason Daisuke never seems to bring up any of these issues with himself within the series proper is simply that he doesn’t seem to be aware of them -- he’s too simple-minded to understand what’s going on with his own behavior in depth, and hence, this is how he can say he’s not worried about too much by the time of 02′s finale, especially since by that point he has a proper support group that’s already helping him deal with most of his issues anyway.

Daisuke also has the roughest speech pattern out of any of the 02 group (similar to Taichi and Yamato in Adventure); he has a tendency to shorten words a lot and use “rough” variants of words (for example “-nee” instead of “-nai”).

Mischievous, friendly, and playful, V-mon is pointed out even by official sources to be much like his partner (far more so than usual), and it’s likely a byproduct of the fact that Daisuke himself is very honest and straightforward about his emotions and thoughts, and so since he has nothing to hide, V-mon is pretty much exactly like him -- with the major difference being that he’s a little more outwardly friendly and less likely to lash out angrily. So he’s effectively Daisuke without that very thin abrasive exterior, and because both of them are so like-minded and friendly, they get along extremely well (albeit with quite a bit of comfortable bantering on the way there).

Ken and Wormmon

Ken is the more intellectual type that Daisuke isn’t, and even after his stint as the Kaiser, it’s clear that he’s still quite studious and naturally interested in studying things. Looking closely at his style of dress and way of carrying himself (note how he lays down his chopsticks in 02 episode 36) indicates he’s also a rather tidy person in general. Being someone who’s capable of thinking things thoroughly, this makes him able to have a lot of deep insight into both intellectual and emotional issues, but because he takes things too seriously sometimes, he can sometimes come off as a bit overly stickler or insistent (note Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol, where he subjects Daisuke to a long-winded lecture about the history of Christmas, because, really, he’s a nerd), or lead himself down the wrong direction when he’s having a hard time being straightforward (such as when he comes up with some very flimsy theories about why Jogress might be dangerous in 02 episode 28).

In fact, Ken’s disposition could be considered to be the opposite of Daisuke’s in many ways; while Ken is much softer and more conciliatory on the surface, he’s actually much more assertive and strong-willed by default, and it’s made clear that, even after his reformation from the Kaiser persona, he could still be vicious if he wanted to, he just doesn’t enjoy it because he doesn’t like it and it goes against his belief system (note that he even offered to "dirty his own hands" in lieu of the other kids if push came to shove and Archnemon had to be killed in 02 episode 29, even though he clearly wasn't enthusiastic about the idea). In fact, he has a very strong sense of responsibility and believes heavily in making up for what he’s done -- recall that 02 episodes 26 and 49 involved snapping him out of it by reminding him that there were things that needed to be done, and that he himself still had many things he wanted to do that wouldn’t be addressed if he’d stayed fixated on his past. Thus, Ken doesn’t deny nor avoid anything he’d done, and he isn’t even all that prone to self-pity -- it’s just that his tendency to put too much responsibility on himself means that he also takes a while to accept everyone’s support, too, because he doesn’t like the idea of putting burdens on others.

Because Ken is actually one of the more straightforward people in this group and a fairly honest person (at least, as long as he’s not lying to himself), he might hold himself back a little bit in order to not be rude, but he doesn’t do it nearly to the same degree Takeru or Hikari would and is much more willing to speak his mind when he has an opinion he wants to voice or needs to sort out his thoughts on something. Conversely, he’s not nearly as cold as Iori can get when criticizing things (he’ll certainly be firm, but not as incisive). Most post-02 materials also indicate that he’s not above being a tease or even a little mischievous (see Armor Evolution to the Unknown, Diablomon Strikes Back, Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol).

Ken uses a speech pattern that’s slightly more casual than Takeru’s, but not nearly as rough as Daisuke’s. While anime will often have speech patterns substantially change between different personas of a character, other than Park Romi’s delivery of a more condescending tone for the Kaiser and a significantly softer one for Ken, nothing about his speech pattern is substantially different between the two personas (not even the first-person pronoun), indicating that, in the end, they’re really the same person after all, just manifesting the same personality traits in different ways.

Wormmon is affectionate and clingy, unfailingly loyal to Ken, and his biggest advocate during a time when Ken is trying to relearn how to love and accept himself -- meaning that he ends up very important to providing Ken the initial support he needed before Ken allowed other friends into his life. Wormmon isn’t all nothing but clinginess, though -- he has some insight about the weight of his experiences when prompted (02 episode 46), and in fact is more than capable of calling out Ken’s behavior when he’s being unreasonable or throwing himself into denial (see 02 episodes 27, 30, and 49).

Miyako and Hawkmon

Miyako approaches everything she likes with an attitude that makes her come off as constantly having bubbles and hearts around her. When she likes something, she says so. When she doesn’t like something, she says so (and she will go off when she’s on a roll; see 02 episode 14). In fact, part of the reason she so infamously voices her opinion on people being cute is, quite simply, that it’s her honest opinion. (Note that she never actually tries to ask them out or anything -- she just wants to make it very clear that they’re attractive.)

For the most part, she adores the people around her, and, like the others in the 02 group, she’s perfectly respectful towards elders. She also loves poking her nose in others’ business and trying to be as helpful as possible, which is good in that she ends up being a huge help to others, but also not good in that sometimes she overdoes it a bit (when Hikari calls her out for being a “handful” in 02 episode 31, the word she uses is one that literally means "a little too overly involved in others' business").

Miyako is the one who gets everyone up in high spirits by being cheerful, and whose cheer rubs off on everyone else around her (see her cheerfully leading the charge into the Digital World with her “Digital Gate, open! Chosen Children, let’s roll!” catchphrase). This is something the rest of the group catches onto very quickly, asking her to supply the “usual cheer”, and the later episodes of the series especially drive home the fact that her presence and antics bring happiness to those around her.

Miyako has a similar “chaotic, sloppy, and straightforward” demeanor to Daisuke, but there are some key differences. Unlike Daisuke, who’s bluntly honest about his opinions mainly because he doesn’t really hide things in general, Miyako’s opinions will be out of her mouth before she can control it. In other words, she has a nasty case of foot-in-mouth syndrome. In addition, while Daisuke tends to have a very thin skin and lashes out defensively out of instinct, Miyako takes things much more at face value and doesn’t blow a fuse nearly as easily, but because she’s significantly more assertive and aggressive, she’s much more prone to doing what she wants on her own whims instead of backing down to anyone. In fact, Miyako is significantly more emotionally sensitive in the long run, so while Daisuke tends to blow a fuse more easily, he’s also able to shrug it off and move on more quickly, whereas Miyako has a thicker skin, but when she does take emotional pain, she takes it much more deeply and harshly. She also tends to get overwhelmed easily by stress and panic, which makes her one of the more prone to running around in circles and doing frantic things in the midst of it.

One thing you might notice about Miyako is that she’s actually more critical of herself than anyone else in the group is; most of the time they act with mild exasperation at her antics but don’t tend to criticize her directly, whereas Miyako is very aware of her own shortcomings and is constantly either criticizing herself or comparing herself negatively to others (see: 02 episodes 10, 14, 18, and 31 especially). If she slips up and does something that stepped on someone else’s toes, it doesn’t take her long to realize that she’s messed up and want to do better. So while she generally tends to act the most in-your-face and aggressive, she also doesn’t necessarily want to be this way, and suffers from self-confidence issues and a poor opinion of herself.

Miyako uses a feminine speech pattern that’s a bit more casual than Hikari’s (she noticeably is willing to use the word anta for “you”, which has a bit of a connotation of being abrupt and in-your-face, especially with Daisuke). She’s also the most likely to physically manhandle things, both in the affectionate (hugging people) and aggressive (grabbing things and jumping on them in order to attack) senses.

Hawkmon is repeatedly referred to as being like Miyako’s “knight”, since he has absolute loyalty to her (in spite of her ridiculous antics often meaning he gets strung around by her) and is effectively in charge of minding her so she doesn’t get too out of control. While his overly polite and gentlemanly demeanor initially seems like a sharp contrast to Miyako’s aggressive and messy personality, you might also notice that, at their cores, the two aren’t all that different -- both are unfailingly loyal to others, and both also have a penchant for dramatic theatrics and being a bit overly proud of themselves.

Iori and Armadimon

The key thing to know about Iori is that he’s not stoic because he’s not feeling fervent emotions, but rather because he’s constantly holding them back (this is especially apparent if you look carefully at his facial expressions and Urawa Megumi’s delivery, where you can tell his facade is often “slipping” even when his words would indicate otherwise). Since Iori is trying to live by the ideal of being a model citizen, especially under the very formal environment he was raised in, he comes off as mature for his age, but it’s very important to not forget that, underneath all that, he’s still an impressionable nine-year-old child with the wide range of emotions and immaturity of one, and when he does emotionally fall apart, everything tends to burst out (see 02 episodes 16, 44, 47, 50). In addition, Iori is never condescending about the fact he usually acts more mature than the others; the impression is that he’s much more strict with himself than he is with others, and in fact still does look up to his elders in the 02 group even when they’re obviously a lot messier than he is.

The “need to be a model citizen” is something looming over Iori’s head at almost every moment, and it’s the easiest way to understand the way he acts in a nutshell. Iori is focused on the idea of “becoming a proper adult”, which means that he’s adhering to all of these principles because he feels they’re necessary to live a proper and honest life as per the formal manners that his family background trained him into. But like a young child who insists “you have to do this because those are the rules!” all of the time, Iori is over-applying all of this, and even his own grandfather advises him that he really needs to chill (02 episodes 5, 24). In short, he struggles with thinking flexibly and understanding that life isn’t all that clear-cut, because he’s a young child. Since he also tends to bring out these things in relation to “what my father would do/say”, it’s implied that he’s basing all of this off of having only hearsay to work off of in regards to what his father was actually like, to the point of aspiring to an impossible, saintlike version of him he’d created in his head.

Note that Iori’s “rules” have less to do with institutional rules (that would be more of a Jou thing) and more to do with self-imposed personal rules; for instance, he doesn’t mind sneaking into school during a holiday when it’s obviously not hurting anyone (02 episode 6), but he struggles with things like wasting food (02 episode 3) or not formally introducing himself to an elder (02 episode 5). So in other words, his adherence to principles has heavily to do with “the right and proper way to live” more than anything, and what he believes is the right thing to do in a given situation.

Iori’s journey in 02 is largely fueled by the fact that, as an inheritor of sorts of the Crest of Knowledge, he has a sense of “I want to know and understand more” whenever he sees something that makes him curious, but unlike Koushirou’s desire to learn more about the world around him in terms of its technical workings, Iori mainly wants to know more about people. The reason he begins to let go of his inflexible mindset is that he has the humility to understand that he still has a lot more to learn and understand, and when he sees behavior from others that doesn’t make sense, he does his best to learn more about it -- hence how his aggressive probing into learning more about Takeru allows them to reach an understanding and eventual Jogress, and how he’s able to eventually reassess his own view of human morality and emotions.

Iori sticks out in that he almost always uses the formal variant of Japanese in most situations (nobody else in the 02 group does this). However, formal in this situation doesn’t necessarily mean polite; Iori doesn’t believe in flattery and will bluntly state his opinion in said formal tone, and will be very cold towards something he sufficiently disapproves of or doesn’t have any respect for, which can make him even come off as passive-aggressive at times. (Noticeably, while he still asserts his own opinion, he does refrain from criticizing the others in the 02 group too much, presumably because he respects and looks up to them a lot as his elders, regardless of how chaotic they can sometimes get.) In addition, because a lot of his demeanor comes from him restraining himself, when his emotions are sufficiently pushed over the edge, he loses grip on the polite form and starts “lapsing” back into the casual one.

Because Iori was so young during 02, and because the events of its story ended up really upending his view of the world, the huge eight-year gap between 02 and Kizuna makes it difficult to predict certain things about his demeanor at the time of Kizuna (especially since his own voice actor commented on the difficulty of conveying the nuances of Iori’s character, thanks to only being able to work with the limited time frame of a movie that doesn’t put him in the kinds of emotionally drastic situations that push him to his limit). That said, everything we’ve seen of him in the movie itself and the drama CD makes reasonable sense; now that he’s much older, he comes off as having much better restraint on his emotions and coming off as genuinely calm, but he’s still not one for flattery, and you can still see very minor slips in his facade every so often.

Armadimon also initially seems like a sharp contrast to Iori in terms of demeanor, in that he’s much more casual and laid-back, and he’s indeed a huge factor in reminding Iori to chill once in a while -- but, much like Iori, he prods and asks questions about anything he’s curious about. This initially seems to be out of simple-mindedness because, being a Digimon, he doesn’t understand human society that well, but his very basic questions often end up snapping Iori back to reality in realizing that he’s getting hung up on things that don’t actually make practical sense. Urawa also felt that Armadimon fills in some of the void that Iori’s late father left behind, in that he provides Iori with unconditional love and helps guide him.

Takeru and Patamon

Takeru is the kind of person who seems to dislike major disruptions to the status quo, so he doesn’t say anything inflammatory that’ll rock the boat. It’s very difficult to get him to talk about serious topics related to his deeper personal feelings (02 episode 17, 35, Spring 2003), and even when it’s clear he might have more misgivings on the situation, unless it’s an urgent situation where it needs to be brought up, he won’t voice his misgivings too clearly for the sake of not causing trouble (hence why Daisuke is so unsure what to make of him in the early episodes of the series, because Takeru constantly fails to clarify his own position in favor of a “good for you” or “sure, you keep believing that if you want” attitude). This also makes him the most likely to awkwardly change the subject or try to distract with small talk, and it means that, even when he’s saying cheerful, pleasant things, it’s very likely there’s pain or uncertainty under that initial facade. (Note that while his suspicions of Ken during 02 episodes 25 and 27 aren't nearly as vicious as Iori's turn out to be, we learn that he's still willing to quietly accuse Ken of working for his own self-satisfaction in the latter episode, but he never brings this up to anyone but himself.)

Because Takeru isn’t necessarily doing this to be consciously dishonest, it does mean that he also has positive applications of this tendency to take everything in stride and keep the peace, because he ends up keeping the more extreme personalities in the rest of the group in line and acts as an effective mediator. You could say that he has a pretty high amount of tolerance and a capacity for taking everyone’s points of view in mind. However, since it’s also very difficult to tell what he himself is thinking, his use of this as a poor coping mechanism for his personal trauma leads to a tendency for him to suddenly explode in a mess of emotions whenever something gets too personal, leading to sudden conflict, and with others at a loss in terms of how to deal with him (the most extreme example being 02 episode 19, but also present in 13, 11, and 34). This “two-sidedness” is why it ends up having to be the more consciously methodical Iori who steps up to try and understand him better as his Jogress partner.

Fortunately, Takeru shows signs of becoming more straightforward in the aftermath, although you can see that he still has a penchant for mild flattery and “trying to hold back for the sake of not being rude” all the way up to Kizuna (but, again, this can’t be said to necessarily be a bad thing when it means he has a valuable skill as a mediator).

Takeru has a fairly neutral speech pattern that comes off as casual but not too aggressive or assertive (not as absurdly polite as Iori’s, but slightly less assertive than Ken’s).

Patamon initially still seems to be “immature” in the same way he was in Adventure, which initially seems to widen the gap in personality between him and Takeru, but looking closer reveals that the differences aren’t as big as they seem; Patamon seems to have gained a capability for slyness and active trolling behind his playfulness (see 02 episode 7), not entirely like Takeru starting to use his evasiveness in a teasing-like manner. Moreover, Patamon does actually seem to have gained a bit of proper maturity in the meantime; see how he instructs the Baby Digimon on convenience store food in 02 episode 3, and in general seems much more willing to take independent action in ways he didn’t always in Adventure. Noticeably, Takeru’s difficulty with his own convoluted feelings means that he can’t even have a proper heart-to-heart with him about it on the situation (most glaring in 02 episode 34, where it’s implied that Takeru would rather leave Patamon to be happy right now instead of bothering him about it), especially because he’s clearly having difficulty even working it out with himself. However, despite their ostensible differences in mentality, Takeru and Patamon have no difficulty getting along at all in 02, and, other than Takeru pampering Patamon a bit, there isn’t all that strong of an impression of them being so mismatched -- perhaps because, in the end, they really aren’t all that different.

Hikari and Tailmon

Taichi stated in Adventure episode 48 that Hikari has a problem where she's so selfless and thinking of others that she'll never speak up about her own problems. Hikari states in 02 episode 31 that she compulsively cannot speak out about her own feelings even if she wanted to, to the point she’s jealous of Miyako for being able to be more open (even if it means being overkill at times). As a result: if Hikari’s talking about “the right thing to do”, or something for everyone’s sake, or something that’s relevant to other people and what’s best for them, she will be extremely vocal and quick to act, and she’s not above even chipping in with criticisms (see: 02 episodes 19, 32, 44). In fact, she’s fully capable of being playful or toying with others if she really wants to (see how she casually manipulates Daisuke into calling a lunch break for everyone in 02 episode 6).

The moment the issue at hand is about herself, though -- her own feelings or pain, or something that might hurt others’ feelings (hence the presumable reason she dodges Daisuke’s affections rather than proactively doing anything about it), or something that would put a burden on others for her own sake -- she completely clams up and refuses to do or say anything, and when bad things start happening to her, she resigns herself to her own fate and concludes she can’t do anything about it. Hence, why she takes such a defeatist attitude towards the Dark Ocean swallowing her up in 02 episodes 13 and 31, and why it’s such a big deal if she even so much as asks for help. 02 episode 31 indicates that Miyako reaching out to her is an important step in breaking her out of her shell, and the Kizuna drama CD -- which has Hikari assertively declare something she personally wants -- heavily implies further that Miyako was instrumental to this becoming possible.

Hikari is compassionate for others to the very end, expresses pity for BlackWarGreymon as early as 02 episode 31, and catches on quickly to Ken’s feelings on himself in 02 episode 37 (and even back when she’d been more skeptical about him in 02 episode 25, she never seemed to have real personal distaste against him as much as she still wanted to make sure he was trustworthy first). But although she’s one of the most compassionate in the group, she’s also one of the most assertive in the group. This leads to something that initially seems like a paradox: she’s actually more fervent about the need to fight than the more aggressive Miyako is. Miyako is, ultimately, emotionally caught up in everything and briefly falls apart at having killed LadyDevimon in 02 episode 44 (even despite knowing how horrible of a person she’d been), but Hikari is the one who points out that there would have been more victims if they hadn’t. 02 episodes 25 and 43 had made it abundantly clear that Hikari didn’t like it at all, but she states in 02 episode 37 repeatedly that they need to prevent there from being victims -- meaning that she values the importance of protecting all lives, including those who would be hurt in the process, and thus has some of the more resilient guts when it comes to the prospect of fighting to save others. Again, her hesitation only comes into play at its worst when it has to do with herself; working to save others is a no-brainer.

Hikari uses a casual feminine speech pattern that’s less in-your-face than Miyako’s, but she’s still a bit more casual than she was in Adventure, when she used the more polite watashi instead of atashi. Interestingly, Tailmon herself seems to have mirrored this as well, presumably because now that she’s had more time to recover from her miserable life under Vamdemon, she’s able to enjoy her life a bit more freely. This means that, while Tailmon is still the most mature and put-together of the Digimon partners in the 02 group, she sometimes acts a little more casual and playful in a similar way to Hikari, and while she has a certain degree of stuffy personal pride (see how she wasn’t very amused at how frivolously the other Digimon were playing around in 02 episode 3), she’s still open to enjoying herself a little more freely. Hikari, for her part, becomes surprisingly like-minded with her during those times -- see them in 02 episode 12 -- and, as stated earlier, it’s not like Hikari isn’t up for making tough decisions when they’re needed, either.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

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kingwuko · 3 years

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Wuko in the Comics: Ruins of the Empire, Book 1 part 2

Welcome to my series of posts discussing Wuko in the Comics. In this post I'll continue to discuss RotE Book 1. There are some... interesting moments in the second half of this comic, including a very famous line that all but confirms canon Wuko.

Plot Summary

Fearing that Guan will use violence to stop the election, the Krew decides to bring Kuvira along with them to Gaoling, hoping that she can talk him down. When they come face-to-face with Guan, however, they discover he does not intend to use violence, but will run in Gaoling’s election. The Krew decides the best solution is to find another candidate with enough public support to defeat Guan fair and square; and they decide to ask Toph to run. It is revealed, however, that Guan does not intend to win fair and square. He’s planning to brainwash Gaoling’s citizens to vote for him.

Major Plot points in the second half of Book 1

We start off right away with the Sauna Scene. Everyone looks excellent. The ladies' sauna wear is lovely. Mako and Bolin have their classic swim suits seen in season 1. Wu is literally just wearing a towel. I found myself googling saunas and steam baths to see if it’s normal to wear swimsuits or just a towel, and everything I read said pretty much anything goes as long as you are comfortable, but I do find it interesting that everyone wears swimsuits except Wu. Maybe because he does steam baths more often and he’s just more comfortable in that setting? He seems pretty confident and not at all shy. I don’t have anything analytical to say about it, I just think it’s an interesting detail, that he doesn’t seem to have any hang-ups about being nearly naked around Mako his friends.

They are discussing Guan’s militaristic movement toward Gaoling, and tossing ideas around to handle the situation. Mako not-so-helpfully suggests using force with the united forces which Zhu Li shoots down right away, not wanting to escalate the situation. Wu agrees and wants to find a peaceful resolution. Korra, remembering her conversation with Kuvira, thinks she has the answer. She proposes bringing Kuvira along to Gaoling, which NOBODY is happy about. Asami is upset because she made it clear earlier she does not want to be in the same room as Kuvira, Bolin is distressed because Kuvira nearly had him killed when he defected from her inner circle, Mako points out that he nearly lost his arm taking down the mech, Zhu Li says she invaded republic city, Asami reminds everyone that Kuvira killed her father, and Wu boldly declares that we can’t forget she ruined his coronation… He quickly reads the room and apologises (character growth?).

Korra acknowledges everyone’s concerns and points out that she truly believes Kuvira can be an ally- she was their ally when Zaheer was trying to kill her and the airbenders; and when her spirit vine weapon ripped open a new portal to the spirit world, Kuvira thought she had died and Korra believes that changed her. Bolin points out that Kuvira is very persuasive and may have a good shot at convincing Guan to stand down. Everyone is convinced and declares their support for the plan.

Zhu Li orders Kuvira’s release and Korra brings her onto the airship taking them all to Gaoling. And, I’m sorry, this frame is like, the bitchiest collective look from Mako, Wu, Bolin and Pabu. I just love it.

They initially plan to restrain her, but decide it’s pointless when Kuvira points out if she wanted to escape that she would have already. They arrive at Gaoling and there’s no sign of Guan and his army. Kuvira is certain he’ll be there, and points out that she needs to change so she doesn’t meet with him looking like a prisoner.

Korra and Wu go to meet with the election candidates. Their portraits are on the wall and it’s revealed that the candidates are both elderly magistrates who have been working in the local government for a long time. They are practically indistinguishable from each other, which causes Korra concern. Wu isn’t happy about it either, he was hoping the elections would bring in new leaders to take the earth kingdom in a new direction. Instead, it looks like nothing will change in Gaoling or the rest of the earth kingdom if things play out the same way. They are both disappointed but Korra is optimistic that this is the first election and over things will improve as they iron out the political kinks

Back in the flying machine, they give Kuvira an outfit of Asami’s that is…. Like I can’t put it into words. I’ve never seen asami wear it and that is a shame. The word that comes to mind is “Dapper”. Like is we saw Asami wearing it when they first introduced her character literally everyone would have predicted Cannon Korrasami and immeadiately said “yup Asami’s gay straight women don’t dress like that”. Slacks, a collared long sleeve shirt, with a grey vest over top. Just like, amazing. I am so disappointed we never saw Asami wear this. Someone point me to a fanart of Asami in this outfit that canonically belongs to her please.

Guan arrives and Kuvira tries to talk to him, which goes about as well as you’d expect. So she tries to appeal directly to his troops and urges them to surrender, and they all say in unison “Hail Commander Guan!”. So Kuvira decides to challenge Guan and beats the crap out of him in a punch that looks like something directly out of a WWII propaganda poster or something.

Kuvira is literally about to kill him by bending the metal collar around his neck when suddenly Asami electrocutes her with some device she had hidden in the belt she gave Kuvira.

Once Mako and Bolin drag Kuvira away, Korra attempts to reason with Guan and tells him she won’t let him interfere with the election. Guan then reveals he has no intention of interfering- he plans on running in the election! He immediately turns in all the necessary paperwork to be on the ballot. He informs the Krew that soon, all the upcoming elections will have Earth Empire representatives running and once they have power in every territory, no one will question the Earth Empire's right to rule.

They reconvene back on the airship, where Kuvira is detained in the platinum box. They explain to Kuvira that she was wrong to provoke him, but right that he is an excellent strategist. Mako then tells Wu that he should just call off the election. Wu replies “Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around canceling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to see how this plays out”

…

Yes. “Mako, you know I love you”

…

We’ll discuss that at length in a bit.

They decide the best path forward is to find a new candidate who is popular enough to beat Guan. Korra excitedly suggests Toph. Which, like, wouldn’t have been the first person to come to mind for me, but I guess she’s the only person they know who is originally from Goaling? But everyone seems on board, except presumably Toph because she doesn't like to get involved in worldly affairs… So Korra announces they will just have to convince her!!

We then cut to Guan's encampment, where he is discussing Kuvira’s actions with a Doctor Sheng, observing that Kuvira just isn’t the same, and that the Avatar has corrupted her mind. The doctor suggests they “recalibrate” Kuvira’s mind and leads him into a structure where she shows him their latest “recruits'. We then see Goaling citizens tied up in chairs with devices on their heads. They are being brainwashed to vote for Guan! Yikes!

Mako and Wu Scenes

The Sauna scene

The meeting that took place in the sauna was at the behest of Wu. He said he was very stressed out so he couldn’t miss his steam bath. I know there are lots of jokes about Wu being high maintenance because he needs his spa days or whatever, but he is in a highly stressful situation right now and we know that self care is essential to maintain one’s mental health and in order to perform one’s job well. I think this was an interesting way to weave together his seemingly superficial hobbies with his new maturity and responsibility. I really loved this scene for that (though seeing all the hot people in sauna-wear is a bonus).

Also there is a recurring thing where Mako is just offering the worst advice to Korra. He wants the United Republic, a completely separate Nation from the Earth Kingdom, to just.. March into another country and ‘enforce’ their democratic process??? Like…. If you know anything about world history and current events we know that is awful and wouldn’t be received well and would be a recipe for political instability and long term conflict. Thank goodness everyone is like Mako no. I’m pointing this out because, as much as we think of Wu as being immature, irresponsible, whatever, the reality is that he has a level head while Mako is actually giving the irresponsible solutions here. It’s a really interesting evolution from the infamous Wu meltdown scene where Mako was the voice of reason, but here things have reversed.

Also, I want to point out the moment where Wu backs down after he adds his grievance to the list everyone is giving (She ruined my coordination!), it’s kind of played for laughs but like… Wu has a totally valid reason to be upset on par with everyone else, considering Kuvira had him drugged and kidnapped…. Why wouldn’t he have said that? Well, the simple and obvious answer is- the writers wanted to make a “Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking” joke. But since us fans like to give depths to the characters that they deserve, maybe Wu is genuinely traumatized and just doesn’t want to bring it up. And maybe everyone knows he’s traumatized and doesn't want to bring it up, because no one else is like “Wu, did you forget she had you drugged and kidnapped???” They just give him a look and he’s like “LOL oops sorry should have said my thing first!!” maybe Team Avatar understands that it was a really scary moment for him and they just let him shield himself with humor.

I know it isn’t isn’t exactly a strong Wuko moment, but the bitchy look that Moko, Bolin, Wu and Pabu give to Kuvira in the airship breathed life into me for some reason. I’m loving how they look like a group of mean girls who were just badmouthing Kuvira before she walked in. I think they were having a nice bonding moment before this.

Mako, you know I love you

Ok. So after Mako casually mentions just calling off the election, Wu flat out says “I love you” to Mako. This is a line us Wuko shippers just DIE for. The full line is as follows:

Mako: I say you call off the vote, at least for now. Make it impossible for Guan to win

Wu: Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around cancelling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to let this play out.

So. Like, what the heck are we supposed to make of this?

I’m not going to dig too deep and force my own interpretations and headcanons onto you. This I love you could mean a number of different things. I just want to pose some rhetorical questions about it and the context to give us all some things to think about.

Is Wu flirting? Does Mako actually know that Wu loves him? Is this an extension of Wu’s many other instances of flirting with complimenting Mako (on par with ‘my big tough guy” while staring at his ass)? Has Wu said “I love you” to Mako before? How many times has Wu said “Mako I love you” before? Is this evidence of them actually being in a romantic relationship during this comic? Or is it evidence of romantic tension building? Is Mako just totally oblivious to the fact that Wu said I love you? Or did he hear it and his brain blue-screened from the shock of being blatantly told I love you? Has Wu just gotten fed up that Mako seems oblivious to all his previous flirtations and he just decided to up the ante? Does Mako love Wu back?!

Lots of questions. Lots of interpretations. But (as far as I remember) Mako has only said I love you to two people- his brother and Korra (I don’t think he said I love you to Asami but I could be wrong). And if you’ve read this you know that Mako’s relationship with Wu is not brotherly. We’ve never heard “I love you” from Wu toward anyone else that I can recall so I don’t think he makes a habit of throwing the phrase around lightly. Also, worth noting: Literally no one reacts to the casual “I love you”. Everyone just goes on with the conversation at hand. The next frame that we see of Wu and Mako’s faces together, Mako is SMILING at Wu.

So like, he’s clearly not uncomfortable with being told that Wu loves him. And no one else is uncomfortable with it either. So what gives? Are they together? Are they flirting? Is everyone else just like “yup Wu said I love you Mako nothing out of the ordinary here because it’s painfully obvious Wu is into Mako, let's move on, nothing to see here”?

Wu and Korra

One thing I LOVE about these comics is the friendship between Korra and Wu. During the series, Korra tolerated Wu, warming up to him a bit at the very end when he told her his plan to abdicate. But through these comics there seems to be a comfortable familiarity between them. A bit of teasing, loads of moral support, and not a hint of her (or anyone) being super annoyed by him. He also doesn’t hit on her or anyone else except Mako, which is a very refreshing character growth because it was very tiresome to watch him objectify women in the animated series.

Korra and Wu spend a good amount of time together as she accompanies him to Gaoling’s city hall. They seem very comfortable with each other, comfortable enough that the writers included a fart joke.

Korra reassures Wu when he expresses worry about the election being pointless, she steps forward somewhat protectively when Guan shows up- the entire scene with Guan, Korra is standing between him and Wu.

Basically I bring this up because I genuinely love the idea that Korra and Wu are close and friendly, that they have moved on from his cringy behavior from the series (I like to think he apologized to both her and Asami?)

What this means for Wuko

If you are writing fic or just coming up with headcanon, there are two ways to look at the scenes. Either they are in a relationship, or they aren’t. You could easily just say they are in a relationship and are being quiet about it, because they aren’t ready to be fully public, or maybe because they are still figuring things out, or they are waiting for Wu to abdicate and move back to Republic City, etc. “You know I love you” is such an easy piece of canon content to make this your headcanon.

Likewise, one could say they are Not Together right now. Pre-relationship, if you will. Maybe they’ve danced around the idea, discussed feelings without actually getting together. Or maybe they are still clueless that there is a potential for a relationship. Wu might be putting out feelers to see how Mako responds to his flirtations. Mako might be wondering if he’s misinterpreting Wu’s affectionate touches and words. Lots of romantic tension, pining, each wondering if the other one has any feelings.

I also love the idea that Wu and Korra are friends and have discussed or will discuss Mako and Wu’s feelings for him.

So, in summary, Wu loves Mako. It’s canon. It’s right there in black and white. Make of it what you will!

Next post I will discuss Wuko in the first half of RotE Book 2. Wu goes on a life-changing field trip with Korra to meet Toph and confront a swamp-vision of his Late Great Aunt, while Mako gets captured and brainwashed by Guan. Wu and Mako are not together during these scenes but there will be lots of wonderful Wu backstory along with plenty of angst potential from the brainwashing storyline.

Wuko in Turf Wars

Wuko in RotE part 1

#Wuko #Wuko in the Comics #RotE #Mako #Prince Wu

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chidoroki · 3 years

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TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #tpn norman #tpn ray #tpn emma #norman #ray #emma #chidoroki used chatter

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