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thatlovinfeelin · 2 years

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Feather Light | One | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Prologue

It was a simple text from the man she considered to be her uncle, well at least one of them. She was on the East Coast, enjoying some long overdue time away from home. But with the simple three sentences that flashed across her screen, she was already getting ready to fly back to Miramar.

Top Gun graduates are being recalled for a special detachment. I would like you to assist. He will be there.

The flight back across the country was easy, especially since she had her private license. Though she never entered into any branch of service and flew like her father, she did assist as an outside contractor. There was something about analyzing flights, both friendly and enemy, that she loved. But more than that, she loved the pilots. They were her family, always had been.

The very first place she went was The Hard Deck. After growing up in Fightertown, Miramar, or whatever someone wanted to call it, she knew that all of the pilots would be there. No matter who they were, or where they’d been called back from.

She smiled at Penny, who seemed to notice the exact moment she walked into the bar. Penny, though having no real blood relations to her, always seemed like a big sister. She watched over her and tried her best to keep the young woman out of trouble.

“Here you go sweetheart,” Penny said, setting a bottle of beer on the bar, “On the house.”

The young woman smiled, taking a long sip, “Thanks Penny, you’re always too good to me.”

“Well, Rosey,” Penny smiled almost devilishly, “You don’t leave your phone on my bar.”

Rose looked to her right, spotting an older man in an old bomber jacket, beer in hand with his phone on the bar for all to see. She couldn’t help but laugh as she raised her beer towards Penny, “Well, looks like it isn’t on the house then.”

“Am I missing something?” The man spoke, turning to look at both women.

Rose let out a large breath and leaned against the bar, “Well, damn, they even brought you in, huh Mav?”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk forming, “No Uncle Mav?”

She shrugged, taking another sip of her beer, “Well, considering the last time I talked to you was my freshman year of college. I think we’re beyond me calling you Uncle Maverick, don’t you, Captain Mitchell?”

Regret flashes across the man’s face, pain too. He saw Rose as family, almost considered her to be another daughter to him. He loved her, but he betrayed her too, “Why are you here?”

“Same reason you are, I assume,” She pointed out, her gaze hardening, “Ice called me back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are several people here that I’ve been waiting to see.”

As Rose Buchanon began to walk away, she heard Penny’s voice once more, “That girl used to worship the ground you walked on, now she can’t wait to get away from you. What happened?”

Rose forced herself not to look back as she made her way around the bar, but she knew Maverick was looking at her. Probably wondering what happened to the sweet little girl he helped raise. But the second she caught sight of a small group by the pool tables, the ice in her veins melted. An almost inhuman sound came out of her as she caught a woman’s eyes.

“Phoenix!” Rose squealed, running to hug the other woman.

“Tigger! I thought you were out East?”

Rose laughed at the sound of her old callsign, though she was never a member of the Navy, she gained one due to her close proximity and family history. Despite having the name since she was five, it never went away. She equally loved and hated it, but her dad gave it to her so there was nothing she could do about it now.

“I was,” She laughed, “Lounging peacefully on a beach in South Carolina, next thing I know I’m receiving the closest thing to orders that I ever hope to get, and I was headed back to the shitty airfield that I flew into so I could fly back here.”

“Damn, looking good Tig,” One of the other men almost groaned, dropping his arm over Rose’s shoulders.

“You too, Fanboy,” She joked, patting his cheek.

“You heard from Bradshaw recently?” Payback asked.

Her smile faltered for a moment before she forced it back, “No, not since I left here the first time, what three or four years ago? But I keep up as much as I can with my clearance.”

“And your connections,” Hangman added, narrowing his eyes.

“Careful Hangman,” Phoenix teased, “She was a little too much woman for you last time.”

Rose looked over her shoulder at the door, “Got more patches coming in,” She slipped from under Fanboy’s arm and drank more of her beer, “This is going to be some detachment. They’re bringing in the best of the best. Hell, they even brought me back here, and I was supposed to have undisturbed leave for three months.”

Phoenix touched Rose’s shoulder gently, “I was sorry to hear about your dad. He was a hell of a man.”

“He was. But when the Commander of the Pacific fleet tells you to come back, you can’t say no. Even with losing my dad, Kazansky knows I can’t say no to him. Not when he helped teach me how to fly,” The bell ringing caused everyone in the bar to start cheering, “Hangman, why don’t you go get us some more beer on the old timer?”

Phoenix picked up a pool cue, readying to start the game. But as if Rose has some sort of radar of her own, her body started to tingle causing her to look up at the door. The old Hawaiian shirt was the first thing she saw, then the sun dyed blond hair, and the old pair of sunglasses that once belonged to her father.

“Bradshaw!” Phoenix yelled, “That you?”

Rose sank down into a nearby chair, hunching over to hide her face. For years she thought about what she would do if she was able to be face to face with him again. All of the things she would say, everything she would apologize for. How she would tell him that her life felt empty without him, even more so now that her father was gone and was no longer the bridge between the two young people.

Rose did try to call when she landed in Northern Virginia, she tried to explain why she had to leave him in Miramar, why they needed a clean split for both of them to be able to finish what they started separately. He never picked up, never responded to any texts or letters she sent. She knew she would lose him when she left, but she never imagined just how much it would hurt.

She could hardly breathe as he stopped just feet from her and took off his sunglasses, “Thought I would surprise you,” He replied to Phoenix when asked about him being stateside again.

Rose wouldn’t have even known if Iceman hadn’t told her. Hell, she wouldn’t even know anything about Bradley anymore if it weren’t for other people. Rose had very few regrets in her short life, but Bradley would always be her biggest.

“Hey Tigger, look what the tide brought in,” Phoenix cheered, clapping Bradley’s shoulder.

Rose forced herself out of the chair, trying to prepare for whatever was about to be said, “Hey, Rooster.”

Using his callsign felt foreign, but she knew she lost the right to his name when she left. He wasn’t her Bradley anymore, just as she wasn’t his Rosey Posey. Too much time had passed, too much happened. Too many things were said that couldn’t be taken back.

He nodded softly, “Nice to see you, Tigs.”

But his eyes were cold, even if he was trying to play it off. He would act like he could stand to be near her, because he didn’t want the others to realize just how much he didn’t want to be near her. He would take back everything about that last night if he could, just so it wouldn’t have hurt as much as it did when he woke up and she was gone.

“Tigger here, was called back for all of this too,” Fanboy told Bradley.

“Well,” Bradley said steadily, “They want the best of the best. We all know she could shoot all of us down in seconds if she really wanted to.”

With that he sunk into conversation with his fellow pilots. She tuned it out for a while, fully focused on the man she grew up with and once loved. He was different, harder almost. Yet, the same boy she knew lurked just below the surface. She wished she could reach him and tell him just how sorry she was. He had scars on his face that weren’t there when she saw him the last time. She didn’t even want to think about what caused them. Over the years she was able to attain small bits of information about him and various missions he flew, but she also knew that the information she got was very heavily redacted, giving her only enough to tell her that he was alive and safe.

She could have been standing there for hours before she felt a small tug on her elbow, looking over she saw Bradley right next to her with a sort of gleam in his eyes that she so dearly missed, “Go pull the box.”

“What?” She questioned.

He nodded over to the piano, “Go pull the box. Time for some real music.” His voice was still cold and on edge, but his eyes showed the boy she loved so much that it hurt.

She felt the smile before she could even process it. He was already slipping his shades back on as he made his way to the piano. It had been years, that was certain, but something about the fact that he wanted her to do this with him made her chest ache. When they were kids, he didn’t like to play without Maverick with them as well, now it was like he needed her beside him to make it feel real.

The bar collectively protested when she yanked the power cord from the jukebox, but Bradley didn’t waste any time before starting to riff on the piano, playing a few notes here and there. Rose didn’t take a seat on the bench like she normally would, instead standing to Bradley’s right.

He looked up at her, never stopping his movements on the keys, “Aren’t you going to sit?”

“I uh- I figured you wouldn’t-”

“I’m not playing without you,” He states firmly, “Not when you’re actually here, for once.”

Rose swallowed hard and gently slid onto the small space on the bench that he made for her, “Great Balls, alright?”

“I expect nothing less,” She said, pushing his shades up.

Phoenix and the others joined them, surrounding the old piano. They laughed as Bradley kept riffing for a while. Penny rang the bell at the bar, Rose knew it was for Maverick. He was going overboard. But she couldn’t tell Bradley he was here, she wouldn’t. She needed this one night, just this little piece of him that she lost so long ago. He didn’t need to know that the first person to ruin his life was also here.

Mav was already out of the bar when Bradley looked over his shoulder, finally deciding to start the song. The others started dancing around them, clutching their beer still. She couldn’t help but laugh as we sang, Bradley bobbing his head much like a Rooster.

For a few moments Rose and Bradley were lost in each other again, much like when they were as kids. Exactly as they were the last time they sang in this bar. Great balls of fire indeed.

They were out of breath and still laughing by the time the song finished. She couldn’t even sit up straight, leaning on Rooster for support. His arm was around her, holding her against him. All Rose could feel was the sheer warmth radiating from his body, the soft cotton of his shirt and the warm denim of his jeans against her legs. The smell of his cologne flooded her senses and she began to wonder how she was ever able to leave in the first place.

“Come outside with me,” He whispered to her, pulling them both up from the bench, “We’ll be right back.”

He gently pulled her outside to the sandy parking lot. The sun was setting, turning everything dark shades of gold, purple, and pink. She tried to calm her nerves, it was only Rooster. They used to run around half naked in the sprinklers together as children. Snuck out to watch the planes take off in the early morning. They did everything together, she knew almost all there was to know about him. Yet, he felt like a stranger.

“This your Bronco?” She asked, running her hand along the blue hood.

“Yeah, got it a little while back. Missed this thing while I was overseas,” He tapped the hood before turning to lean back against it.

She nodded, trying not to stare at the man next to her. Her whole body seemed to be fighting her though. All she wanted was to be closer to him, to feel his body against hers again. To have the relationship they once had.

“Roost-”

His jaw was set, like he was fighting against something, “I heard about your dad, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Rose took a deep breath, “It’s okay, he knew where you were,” She couldn't help but smile, “Dad always knew where you were. I don’t think you could take a step, anywhere in the world, without him knowing.”

There was silence for a moment, “How did it happen?”

“Heart attack. He was on his morning run. They told us it was quick, he didn’t suffer,” She shook her head, “Not that it helps, he was alone. You know how it is, it broke mom. She ended up moving back to be closer to her siblings, being here was too hard on her without dad.”

He watched her, not saying anything. She looked almost lost, which seemed ridiculous considering how comfortable she used to be at The Hard Deck. Together, they spent probably too many nights drinking and playing pool. They used to run around Fightertown like they owned it, it was their playground growing up and then it was their office.

But now, she seemed like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin and disappear. But then again, she seemed to be really good at leaving.

“I was in the air when it happened, or when they got the call, I guess. I was flying in Naval airspace, they had me testing something at Oceana. The irony isn’t lost on me, considering that’s where you were stationed prior to the deployment,” She stopped for a moment, eyes scanning the horizon, “Next thing I know, The base commander of all people is coming over on my radio telling me to land immediately. Told me I had a call from Miramar, about my father, and it was Admiral Kazansky on the phone.”

“I knew if Ice was calling me about my dad that it wasn’t good. So I brought the plane back down. I don’t even remember the funeral,” She admitted, “Or moving my mom, or cleaning out his office. It’s like I was under water the whole time. Or barely conscious. So I got into my Cessna and flew to South Carolina, far enough anyway from any of the bases there that I wouldn't have to think about it.”

“And now you’re here.”

There was something in his voice that almost unnerved her, “Is that going to be a problem, Bradshaw?”

“Are you going to ground me?” He asked point blank, no sense of warmth left.

She scoffed, shaking her head, “Well, if that’s all you’re concerned about, then I think we’re done here. Have a nice night, Lieutenant Bradshaw, I’ll see you in the morning for the briefing.”

For the second time in her life, Rose turned and left Bradley. Only this time, it wasn’t guilt that threatened to tear her apart, it was something else entirely.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine

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disregardcanon · 4 months

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Okay so here’s a bit of analysis about The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals. I’ve seen a lot of people analyze this musical without the context of any invasion of the body-snatchers. And I get that! I haven’t read the original book, but I have seen the 1956 and 1978 movie versions. I feel like the context those films give us is a VERY interesting lens to view the musical through.

Now, the 1956 version of the movie came during the Red Scare and you can really tell. The novel that it’s based off of was apparently serialized starting in 1952. As I said earlier, I haven’t read the book, but what I found on wikipedia makes it seem like the book’s critiques were based more on colonialism and environmental collapse. One of the alien criticisms is “humans are destroying the world anyway so why should it matter that aliens are doing it now?” Despite these things, it had an optimistic ending where the aliens decided that it wasn’t worth trying to take over the earth and left! I can tell from what I found that it established these consistent bits that the others kept going forward, despite focusing on different themes/fears

The aliens create duplicates

The duplicates are grown from seed-pods and the original person disappears forever

The duplicates retain their memories but are unable to experience human emotions

However, the 1956 version is what I think really shapes the way that the story is presented in pop culture. It

1. Gives us the phrase “pod people” and brings in the Red Scare and fear of communism/invasive ideologies/the world around you changing so fast without you noticing and then it taking you over too.

2. This version has another “hopeful” ending, where the main character DOES get out of the town and the authorities take his story seriously.

3. We see intricate systems for how the duplicates disguise themselves and propagate their species

4. The early building of the horror relies on something being Not Quite Right with the people and playing into the idea of Female Hysteria, especially with the male main character being a Doctor in the American Fifties

5. The Red Scare Propaganda splattered all over it can make it hard for viewers like me not to. Kinda root for the aliens.

6. Introduces (to me, at least) the premise that the main characters are going to be a heterosexual pair, the woman is turned first, and then the duplicate! woman tries to turn the man.

The 1978 version brings a few new bits to the mythos

The aliens have a distinctive noise that they use to communicate with each other. Humans CAN’T make it, so it’s an easy give away that this is no longer a person, even if they’re doing a good job of acting like one

This one establishes more environmental worldbuilding. It shows the plants springing up all over the city, sees them being given as gifts, sees teachers encouraging very young students to pick them, etc.

It continues with the heterosexual pair with the man outliving the woman as a human

This is the first version that I remember doing a really good job with the “pretending to be a duplicate” idea

The ending, up until the last shot, is very ambiguous. While San Francisco, the city that started the outbreak, has clearly been overrun by the duplicates, we aren’t sure how much of the outside world has been. We are, however, sure that one character has been blending in with the duplicates. Then, the ending… it was ambiguous until it wasn’t and hope lives between the lines. Then it dies when the lines come together like a garrote.

Now, how do these things come together to influence a reading of The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals?

The subtle horror in the beginning of the musical, through BOTH relationships and environmental storytelling.

The different versions create conflicting expectations, which are sometimes adhered to and sometimes subverted. (Which is very interesting when viewed within the There Are Multiple Musicals In the Hatchetfield Timeline With Very Different Plots But the Same Characters) thing

The creativity with the visuals and process of the transformation. There’s always been an emptiness in the portrayal of pod-people, and the 1978 version adds the Weird Noise, but this adds the layers of 1. It’s very obvious who’s been possessed in a way that it normally isn’t 2. The process is almost divorced from the plant 3. It is not only instantaneous, but it isn’t making a “copy” of the body. It’s taking the body OVER. full zombie style. That is…. Really fucking creepy

Since there are different versions of the story it’s riffing on, for people who know the material it’s riffing on, it leaves us with the question of which one it’s going to emulate and how? Or is it even going to DO that? The answer is all of them and none of them.

If the 1956 version is a commentary on the fear of communism, then The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals is a fear of toxic positivity, conformity, the customer service persona, and the failings of American capitalism. The demands for Emma to sing at work, even before her boss got possessed? The particular demands on Paul and his coworkers at their company, including a company softball league?

They still play with plant imagery, though. Emma’s weed farm? Alien! Alice singing a whole song about not being her dad’s “seed”. Of course there’s the weird sexual layers with the Biblical use of seed to mean descendants and the use of seed to mean semen, but it STILL harkens back to the seed pods in the original.

This idea that people need to “want” something specific and tangible but it always, always ended up just being… their loved ones. Sure, those relationships were tumultuous and difficult to deal with, but there was still a spark to them that was absent once they were apothesized. It’s very hell both IS other people and the lack of other people. I feel like this delved into character relationships and how motivation can be weird and messy a lot more deeply than the others, and it was a refreshing change of pace.

The 1956 version is set in a small town that made it feel small and containable and the 1978 version is set in a city where we see LOTS of people that makes it both feel way bigger and way… less real. I liked the balance this struck with it being a large city but even with the double casting, there still only being so many connected relationships and showing exactly how everyone ended up apothesized.

The use of the a highly connected island city actually did a great job of bringing together the best of both worlds here: the isolation and connection AND the hopelessness and scope. (look the narration called Hatchetville a tiny town but tiny towns don’t have at least 2 high schools.)

Of course, this combination of it being both large and isolated is crucial to the BEST thing that the musical does in conversation with the two most well-known version- the bait-and-switch. If you’re aware of both endings, tgwdl does a very good job of making you think they’re pulling the happier ending. While it’s not the exact same setup (clearly still human character claws their way to an uninfected area and convinces someone that they have to do something) it’s close enough that it would have felt like a hopeful homage to that first one. Survivor in a hospital, being treated? Yeah! The bomb thing worked? GREAT! But then it pulls off the twist ending of the 1978 version, where the still human character desperately tries to talk to someone dear to them because surely, surely they’re still human, neither the character nor the audience has seen evidence to the contrary. They’re acting almost the same as they did Before ™, and that makes the ending such a gut punch. The combination of “there was a hopeful ending in the first one” and the great build up, it just works so well to tear that out of our grip in the last few horrifying and tragic moments. (It took my roommate quite a long time through the end for her to believe that Paul WASN’T faking)

The gender swap of the final confrontation is just… it’s a great touch. While of course it was going to go that way from a writing standpoint because it being Emma first would have been FAR less interesting, it also forces us to confront the horror of the situation FROM the female character’s perspective, something that has been sorely lacking in the movies. Sure, no one wants to be the last one left human in a situation like this, but the love interests getting turned was never the heartbreak and terror that it was with Paul.

Part of that is because 1. Paul is the “star of the show” 2. There is a whole POSSE backing him up as opposed to the other movies where it’s just the love interest but it’s also 3. The terror of it being gendered violence, especially with a tall man and a short woman. Paul might be the “star of the show” and his transformation was also terrifying, but it’s so…. Visceral with Emma. So often with violence done to female characters it’s… thoughtless? Less about the terrible thing being done to THEM than the thing as motivation for another character. Sure, there’s a terror to their death, but especially in those invasion of the bodysnatchers movies, it’s less about what’s happening to the female character being a tragedy and more about how that endangers their male love interest, who’s the real main character. But this gives us so very much horror for both of our main characters….. And it never treats Emma or her own experiences and terror as an after thought. Emma being forcibly turned in such awful, sexual-assaulty circumstances is treated as the awful violation that it is, and that gives us a situation where we can see the horror for everyone involved, without even having to think about the world. Which is also doomed.

This gendered violence element of this version extends through the curtain call, while Emma begs the audience for help before she’s dragged away. It feels so viscerally familiar, and honestly, I’m not sure I wouldn’t do something to try to help. It feels like we, the audience, are being made complicit in this. While it IS a work of fiction that we are just watching, it would be SO hard not to remind myself that this is actually a production being staged. I’m the person who has accidentally attacked haunted house employees. I may not have been able to stop myself from doing something. I hope I would have! But I also am not sure about that.

#tgwdlm #tgwdlm meta #hatchetfield #invasion of the body snatchers

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dancingisdangerouss · 2 years

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I wanna kind of rack your brain a bit and I’ve been seeing one or two aus of modern!albert throughout the grabber x reader tag and I wanted to see what your take and headcanons were on that type of idea :)

Hmmmm well I’ve had an idea for a Ghost Albert in a modern setting, but haven’t given a lot of thought to him being in 2022. So, here are my thoughts!

Dude would have to be a lot smarter about his kidnappings. Nowadays it ain’t so easy to nab a kid off the street, put them in your hella creepy van, and take them without anyone noticing, especially since pretty much everyone has a smart phone these days or someone accompanying them.

Also, were kids just dumber/more naive at that time, or did the movie just make them seem that way? Because I feel like most kids in modern day would see this pale-ass weirdo with his lil’ top hat and steer clear—ESPECIALLY with the “Full Magic Grabber” outfit Robin waltzed right toward. I don’t know a single kid that age now who would go toward something like that.

I’m betting he’d be an internet predator. These days I think most cases happen with people who are trusted/familiar with the victim, right? So I think he’d stalk them online. It’s not hard to find people these days, you can practically Google someone and figure out where they live and shit like that, it’s scary!

I’m having some difficulty hashing out the details. A 1970’s serial killer sure is a lot easier than a modern-day one, what with DNA, facial recognition, Amber alerts, etc.

Not to say kidnappings don’t happen, but they seem these days to be more like, 2-3 people being taken before the person is caught? Maybe I’m wrong; I haven’t kept up with murder stuff/crime shows nowadays, what with fires burning all over this damn planet lol, but I’d assume it’s not as common?

I don’t know what the market looks like for magicians these days, but if it’s anything like every other job out there in 2022, good luck finding work unless you’re exceptionally good at magic. So hardware store it is? Also, unless he’s also hella wealthy, there’s no way he’d be able to afford two homes, so dude would have to find some other way of getting rid of bodies.

I suppose he could take a page from Dexter Morgan’s book and get a job in law enforcement—it’s a good cover for sure, and he’s pretty much have access to everything/be able to erase data depending on the job title.

Other than that, I’m not sure a whole lot else would be different. He’d just need to be smarter and more cautious—and not drive that stupid-ass pedo van that everyone steers clear of these days haha! Even before this movie, if I saw one of those damn things I’d turn my ass right back around.

Also, hey, like I said in another post—with advancements in mental health, maybe he could have gotten some help before things ever escalated to that point. I’d like to think we’re moving in the right direction with neuroscience and can start nipping these things in the bud before they even begin.

I’m not sure if that’s what you were looking for?? Or something more spicy/ x-reader specific? I just went “ooh yeah let’s analyze this shit and see how he’d do it these days” 😂

#asks #anon #the black phone #the grabber #black phone #grabber #penny for your thots #headcanons #kinda #the grabber x reader

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70s-show-diary · 1 year

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What do you think of the downfall of Fez? S1-4 he was okay (a little unnecessary imho), but s5-8 he was unbearable. Practically every time he was in the circle from s5-8, I had to mute him, because I knew he was going to say something incredibly sexist

Hi! First of all, thanks for the ask! I love discussing That ‘70s Show with other people in the fandom. 😊

Since I’ve started running this blog on tumblr again, I’ve noticed that there is a lot more discourse about Fez and his problematic behaviors than there used to be like, five or so years ago, at least from what I’ve noticed. So I appreciate you sending the question over my way, because I don’t think I’ve ever really addressed Fez’s behavior on my blog in the past. Partly because its really in the later seasons that he really becomes problematic (and I’m still covering the early seasons), but also because there really wasn’t much discussion about it before now (again, at least that’s been my experience).

I actually quite enjoy Fez in the early seasons. Was he my favorite character? No, definitely not. Did he show some problematic behaviors then, too? I’d say yeah, some. But I don’t know that I personally would consider Fez from S1-4 to be unnecessary. I found Fez to be naïve, young, and oftentimes totally clueless, particularly about American culture, so I think a lot of his early season problematic behaviors (e.g., his fondness for using the term ‘whore’) are more of a reflection of him trying to learn American customs and not a reflection of who he is as a person. But I enjoyed watching him learn and seeing his friends show him the ropes, so to speak, by teaching him what was considered socially acceptable (for the ‘70s), but also giving him new experiences, like trick-or-treating on Halloween.

I think your choice of words – the downfall of Fez – is incredibly accurate. Because I actually like Fez from the early seasons, and the writers had a lot potential as far as what they could have done with his character as the show progressed to later seasons, it really is a downfall when Fez becomes more and more of a sexist, lazy, thoughtless pig. Whereas his naivety can explain his behavior in the early seasons (when he is still new to the U.S. and its culture), the same cannot be said for Fez in the later seasons. He knows better now, and the way that he behaves and the things that he says really are now more of a reflection of who he is as a person, and are no longer him just trying to fit in. I’ve only seen season 8 in bits and pieces, but the way Fez behaves in that season (especially towards Jackie) literally makes ne nauseous, and is just one of many (many, many, many) reasons that I will never watch season 8 in full or consider it to be canon.

That ‘70s Show is my favorite show for a lot of reasons, but the main one is that I love all the (main) characters. They’re like my friends, you know? I try to remember that the show is a sitcom, and I try not to always take what’s happening on the screen at face value. I really love analyzing why the characters do the things they do, especially when they’re doing something dumb, or thoughtless, or something that completely maligns with who they’ve shown themselves to be in the past. I do this a lot with Jackie and Hyde, because they are my OTP, and because its often just so easy to understand Hyde’s cold ‘aloofness’ or Jackie’s vapid selfishness as defense mechanisms because of their past experiences and traumas. I’ll admit, its much harder to understand Fez’s problematic behaviors in the later seasons, and there is certainly no appropriate way to excuse his behavior by finding some deeper meaning behind it. All that is to say, that when I’m watching the later seasons and find myself grimacing at what Fez is saying/doing, instead of just taking it at face value or trying to rationalize his behavior, I try to imagine a redemption arc (that the show never gave him) where he later atones for his indiscretions and tries to correct his mistakes from the past and use all the opportunities he has been given to make a difference. Because once upon a time, Fez did have the potential to be a great character. And that’s also the glorious thing about reading and writing fanfiction – we, as a fandom, have the power to give Fez the development and growth that the show never did.

Thank you again for the ask!

#ask #That '70s Show #Fez #That 70s Show #T7S

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just-your-average-cryptid · 7 months

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I feel like the reason some fandoms get so hostile and cannibalize each other over ship wars and callout chains is that they’ve stalled their “complex media analysis” growth.

I mean think about it. Most kid’s shows deal with pretty simple concepts like “sharing is good!” and “lying is wrong!”, very black and white takes on very easy-to-understand issues. There’s some notable exceptions, especially in more teen-focused media (ATLA being a prime example for genocide and the complex reality of war,) but generally speaking everything is surface-level escapism with easy morals.

Compare that to more “adult” media and the mindset is wildly different. The themes are way more complex, the morals are grayer and blurrier, there’s symbolism and metaphors and all that good deep-level stuff.

Crucially, though, the latter requires you to engage with it beyond observation.

If you’ve been in online fandom spaces, especially on (shudder) Twitter, you’ve seen the damage of “the curtains were just blue!” So many people just refuse to engage with media beyond the surface level. Everything is escapism, because what other purpose do stories serve? And in that mindset, anything complex or gray means you support those actions and ideas, because you’re escaping to a world where this happens. Media is supposed to turn your brain off for a bit, not force you to grapple with the horrors of our society and question the views you uphold. Analysis is to find the One True Interpretation and lord it over everyone else.

In case you couldn’t tell, that last bit was sarcastic.

So you have a bunch of people only looking at the surface level and only engaging with the material as entertainment, as something you watch for fun and nothing else.

This isn’t to say this is all of fandom - for my fellow good omens fans, please keep analyzing every second for more devastating fascinating details. But I’ve seen enough secondhand complaints from people I follow and screenshots to know this is a real issue for a lot of online fandoms.

No, a character doing a Bad Thing does not inherently mean the author/creator supports the bad thing. Yes, even if the protagonist does it.

Neither characters nor real people are purely good or evil. Stop trying to make that true, it never will be.

On that note, sometimes very nice-looking people do horrible things and still act nicely to others. Sometimes people who seem very cold are the kindest you’ll ever meet. First impressions are not the full picture, in fiction or reality.

(Abusers are very, very good at seeming like such nice people to everyone else.)

Yeah, some stories are just brainless entertainment. But you should still be critical - actually critical, not criticizing, there’s a huge difference - of what you see and what you think. Sometimes it IS that deep. And writers love when you notice the breadcrumbs! It means they did their jobs well :)

If you’re not sure where to start, try stuff like this:

What visuals or ideas are repeated? Could it be a symbol or motif?

Why does this action seem “out of character?” Is there anything from their past/background that might provide context to what they did? (Tbf, this one can just as easily be “we don’t care about continuity, this is a Marvel movie”)

What is the arc for this character? How do they change or evolve? Alternatively, why don’t they change?

What real-world issues could this be a proxy for? What does it say about the creator’s views?

#it speaks #media analysis #fandom

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storyofx · 5 months

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3:21 pm

My eyes red, voice hoarse, head aching, and a spirit burning with dark thoughts and fantasies of revenge dance around every inch of me.

I take a hit of the blunt…… the same thought ringing in my head….

It keeps happening……

Every chapter ends the same way. No matter what I do, no matter how I try to change, no matter what path I take.

It always happens the same way.....

Is it my fault? How? Treat people how you want to be treated. Always be kind. Always be respectful. Always think positive and be honorable, karma will reward you…..

Well, that’s fucking bullshit……

I always used to think that saying “nice guys finish last” was so stupid. Like, I don’t expect the world to bow at my feet because I say please and thank you. I don’t expect that just because I hold the door open for someone that they automatically owe me whatever I ask for.

All my life I was taught to always put people before me. “That’s how a man should be”. But as I ponder my life up until this point I cant help but notice that most selfish, the most arrogant, the most………..

{phone rings}

X: hello?

Q: Yoooooo man what’s going on!

X: Nothing much man. Not doing too good but I’m …..

Q: Hey man keep your head up, I need a favor....

{a few seconds of silence pass}

Q: you there man?

X: ….yeah man what do you need.

Q: I need you to take a ride to the usual spot.

X: look man I’m not feeling it today.

Q: c’mon man you said you’re feeling bad right? Use this trip to clear your head.

X: yeah, clear my head and my gas tank

Q: Cmon ma….

X: No you cmon man. I started taking these “trips” because I needed to make some extra cash. But since I’ve been taking these “trips” you haven’t paid me shit. At this point, I’m paying you to only benefit you. By doing this shit.

Q: Look man, that’s not how this works…

X: so how does this work? I risk everything, make you some quick cash, and then everything’s cool?

Q: bro you’re just having a bad day man…..

And right on cue…..It happens

X: you know what man. I’m done. I’m fucking done. Find someone else to do this shit.

Q: man quit fucking crying; all your doing is complaining when I’m pretty sure whatever you dealing with aint even no big fucking deal. Look man, come over to the crib after you done and we’ll smoke one and cool off.

X: It’s that easy huh?

Q: Yeah Nigga!!! Call me when it’s done.

X: bet that {hangs up phone}.

It’s been the same thing all my life. I get fucked over some way and when I try to defend myself or show any sign of frustration, everyone tells me that I’m overreacting, that I shouldn’t have anything to be mad over, that I’m basically being a bitch…….

Everyday I replay every situation in my mind. From childhood to where I am now. Was I overreacting? Am I just being a bitch? I’ve seen people give support to someone for the same shit, but whenever it’s me it’s the same thing. “You have nothing to be angry at”, “you grew up with both parents in the suburbs, you aint never seen a problem”, “act like a man”.

I try to rationalize. See if it was truly me whose was in the wrong. Every day I analyze every single situation. No man, I was wronged, someone did something to me that wasn’t fair, that wasn’t right. How come it’s me who’s in the wrong every time?

Be honorable, treat people the way you want to be treated, be a man.

No…..this is bullshit. I’ve lived these teachings. Am I perfect? Absolutely not. But one thing I can say is that I’ve never brought anyone into my bullshit. The shit I’ve done behind closed doors. The shit I’ve done to escape and temporarily fill this void. The alcohol, the women, all of it. After all its my fault I never been taught how to take care of myself mentally. I've never been taught how to set boundaries. I’ve never been taught how to defend myself as a man when I’ve been done wrong. The only thing I’ve been taught is how to be used......

And put others first. Like the “Man” they want me to be.

But you know what……it’s time to learn something new.....

{Picks up phone a makes a call}

Q: Yoooo man! What’s up? You done with that already?

X: Yeah I’m done.

Q: Cool ma…..

X: with you…….with all of you…………..

#therapy #writing #life lessons #mental health #short storiee #gaslighting #boundaries #anger

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mercurybliss · 3 years

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The Midheavens on Social Media

>> Based on my observations! If you find that this does not resonate with you, it could possibly be due to a variety of factors, such as planets that sit in your tenth house or that might be forming an aspect with your midheaven.

Aries Midheaven: These natives are all about testing boundaries with their posts. Unique poses or fashion. Perhaps they’ll use filters and edits to make their selfies pop out. They strongly express their opinions on subjects and often use their social medias to advocate and let their voices be heard. They have the potential to be very powerful figures on social media.

Taurus Midheaven: Their social medias are filled with beautiful selfies of them and their hair and makeup look perfect in every picture. They seem to give off this divine, godlike aura. Their favorite things to post on their stories are usually food, selfies, and luxurious things. They want to make people feel awe. They want to look classy.

Gemini Midheaven: They have a very lighthearted approach to social media; most of their content will consist of funny, off-guard pictures or pictures of them with friends, wearing bright smiles. They usually post pictures with witty captions and they actively respond to comments. Could have full-blown conversations in the comment section. Because they’re usually Virgo risings, they post lots of pictures of nature or there’s an artsy, earthy vibe to their pictures.

Cancer Midheaven: I’ve noticed that they always look angelic and dreamy in their photos. They don’t post often because they are very careful with what photos they choose to share, and they absolutely hate showing any blemishes or imperfections. They (mostly Libra risings) usually find a way to make their eyes the most noticeable feature in their photos. Quirky or romantic captions. Documents day to day activities and posts pictures of their friends/pets/loved ones on their stories.

Leo Midheaven: Holy moly they’re powerful on social media. They’re all about grabbing everyone’s attention or they unintentionally grab everyone’s attention. Popularity comes easily to these natives. They tend to post 24/7 (especially selfies) and they go viral easily. They are constantly online making friends and impressing people they’re interested in. They tend to have HUGE followings and can attract many envious people or stalkers.

Virgo Midheaven: Their social media presence is very humble. They typically have small followings because they only want close friends and acquaintances to interact with their photos and they’re quite comfortable with keeping their circle small. They like their privacy. These people might post photography or very natural selfies that seem like they’ve been taken in one snap. They don’t really understand the obsession with gaining popularity on social media.

Libra Midheaven: The majority of them look very elegant in their pictures and have very nice, charming online personalities. People might find them easy to interact with so they could have many online friends. Very sweet and will leave compliments and feedback on your posts. Probably retweets/reblogs quotes or aesthetics. All about looking as perfect as possible in their photos, so they spend a lot of time analyzing them. Shares many photos of their friends or loved ones.

Scorpio Midheaven: Love to appear mysterious on social media. Are constantly afraid that people might say something bad about the way they look or about what they’re posting, so they delete their photos excessively often. Will post sporadically because they don’t want to seem annoying, but they also don’t want people to forget them. Probably have many selfies tucked away in their camera rolls that will never see the light. They carefully select things to post or retweet/reblog. Very secretive. They are professional lurkers (seriously--hire them if you need to find out information about someone you like) and they are prepared to deactivate their account at any moment (always afraid that people hate them or are judging them hard).

Sagittarius Midheaven: They seem like they have thousands of interests but it’s because they are very curious people. They have a very lighthearted approach to social media, although they do like to use their social medias to give their thoughts and amplify social issues. Could post a TON on social media, or they might have a spam account where they do this. People are attracted to them because they seem bold and different.

Capricorn Midheaven: I feel like they often have too much pride to post often on social media, so long hiatuses are common. Are very conscious about what they post and might delete their pictures after a bit. Might not post their own thoughts much but they’ll retweet or share many different things. They might not interact with people unless they’re really close and they rarely respond to comments. When they do drop pictures, they grab attention quickly.

Aquarius Midheaven: Some will have you questioning whether they are still alive because they rarely ever post. Actually, the most they’ll do is have that one photo from like 5 years ago still on their page, so you’ll never know how they look now or if they’re even alive. Others have very disorganized feeds because they post hundreds of things. These natives are constantly online, however, because they like the memes and funny videos (and they’re probably lurking hard). Most Aquarius Midheavens don’t seem to care so much about social media, they’re only there for the jokes and entertainment.

Pisces Midheaven: On their page they post creative selfies and pictures and probably some sort of photography. They give off a very artsy vibe honestly, but that’s what they’re aiming for anyways. They’ll drop a really obscure or artsy pic every few months. They’re all about having an aesthetically pleasing social media. Just like Sagittarius Midheaven, they like to post about their interests and seem to have hundreds of them. Could seem hard to figure out. Also very outspoken about social issues.

>> Comment your thoughts! Thank you for reading!

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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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itsdanii · 3 years

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Kyahhh your rejecting you and regretting series is just so freaking good . Uhmmm idk if you are taking requests right now but can I please request for Ushijima and Kita?Thank you so much!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 4

one | two | three | four

Hey, bub. I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my works. Here's your request for the part 4 and final (as of now) part of the rejecting and regretting you series. Have a good day and stay hydrated! ♥️

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: semi-rude behavior (resolved), no cursing in this one because these men drink their respect women juice daily

ft. ushijima wakatoshi, kita shinsuke

title says it all

Kita Shinsuke

Kita is your childhood friend

The moment the two of you were introduced to each other by your grandmothers, you instantly clicked

Same as through with him, you loved spending your time being productive and following a certain routine so it's no question that as you both grew up, you started gaining romantic feelings towards him

You've been thinking of confessing but never really had the chance because he was always busy with volleyball practice

So when you finally managed to get some alone time, you didn't hesitate to voice out your feelings, not knowing that the answer you're hoping for isn't the answer you're going to get

"You're staring again."

You snapped out of your thoughts when Kita stopped infront of you, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied your face.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, uh, yes! I'm sorry. I was just thinking," you answered sheepishly while scratching the back of your head.

You mentally cursed yourself for spacing out on him. This is the only chance you're getting and you can't afford to waste it.

"About what?" Shinsuke asked as you both continued your walk on the way home since you only live apart each other. Plus, his grandma had always told him to never let you walk home alone especially at night.

"Huh?"

"You said you were thinking. About what?" Shinsuke gently tugged at the sleeve of your jacket, changing your positions so that he was closer to the road than you are.

You felt yourself blushing at the small gesture and looked at his hand that was still holding your jacket.

You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat and stopped walking, the act stopping Kita as well due to him holding you.

Kita looked at you worriedly and placed both hands on your shoulders, his head dipping slightly to get a closer look at your face. "Are you oka-"

"You," you answered without focusing your gaze to him. "I've been thinking about you."

When you felt him taking his hands off your shoulders, you immediately looked up. "Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"

The look he had is something you can't decipher but if you were to analyze it based on what you can see, it's a look you never wanted to see again.

Silence reigned the two of you, eyes staring at each other as if you're both trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

"No," Kita said, breaking the silence. "But it's best if we don't discuss the issue any further."

At that, he faced forward and continued walking as if nothing happened but as you stared at his back, you realized that somehow, he knew what you were trying to imply.

And the sad part is that he chose to ignore it and act unbothered as if he didn't just indirectly broke your heart.

Once you reached your destination, you faced him with an anxious smile and Kita didn't fail to notice this, as well as your habit of shifting from foot to foot whenever you wanted to say something.

"I like you, Shin," you blurted out nervously, your heart beating erratically and your palms becoming sweaty. "I don't know when it started but suddenly, I just woke up and realized that what I'm feeling towards you is no longer within the range of friendship. It's something more and I just wanted to let you know."

"I am well aware of that but I'm sorry, y/n. I can't return your feelings."

You bit your lower lip to hold in your tears and as much as you wanted to shout at him to accept your confession, you can't just force someone to love you back because it doesn’t work that way.

"Geez, can't you even say it gently?" you said with a forced chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't hold any grudges."

You let out a sigh before looking up at him and Kita was surprised to see that there are no traces of anger. He expected you to lash out but it seemed like he was wrong.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" With that, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek before turning around to cross the road.

Kita could only stare at you as he watched you enter your household, your figure vanishing from his sight as the door finally closed.

Kita is a practical man.

He knows how to separate what is right from what is wrong.

Because of this, people often see him as someone who's perfect, sometimes even being compared to a robot due to his nature. But Kita is far from perfect, and he knew that.

Because as he laid in his bed that night, he realized that he just made a big, wrong decision, and he had nobody but himself to blame.

Kita didn't know if he should be happy or not. Actually, he should be happy. After all, he just rejected you and still, here you are, walking beside him as you made your way to school.

He kept glancing at you, observing wether you were pretending or not but he knew that it isn't in your nature to be a pretentious person. You've always worn your emotions on your sleeve which made it too easy for people to read you.

"Ah, Shin. You don't have to walk me home later," you said with a sheepish smile. "My friend is actually going to walk me home so.."

"Alright. Be sure to send me a message when you're on the way home." Despite how 'normal' it sounded, Kita was actually feeling something unpleasant inside him. It was a feeling he was well aware of but had never experienced himself.

The day progressed fast. One moment, he was entering his first class and the next, he's already checking wether all the sports equipment were put back in their proper places.

As he walked out of the gym, Kita instinctively brought out his phone to check for any messages, yours to be specific.

"Ya alright, Kita-san?" came Atsumu.

Kita simply nodded and glanced at his phone again before keeping it, disappointment filling him as he realized that you're not planning to message him at all.

Without you to walk home with, Kita decided to join his team mates, yet despite the noise his team naturally carried, Kita's mind was still preoccupied.

He thought of how you must be doing or if you arrived home safely. He thought of how different the things would've turned out if he hadn't rejected you.

He thought of you.

"Isn't that y/n-san?"

Kita's attention immediately went back to Earth, his eyes following the direction Atsumu was pointing at and just like he said, you were indeed at the other side of the road, walking alone while hugging yourself as you shivered ever so slightly.

Without any words, Kita headed towards your direction and his team mates knew better than to interfere. After all, they knew their captain well. It wasn't that hard to notice how off he was today.

"I thought I told you to message me."

You gasped as Kita suddenly appeared beside you, draping his jacket over your shoulder which immediately surrounded you with his familiar scent.

"Sorry, I forgot," you said while tugging at the end of his jacket sleeves.

"Mhm, and you also said that your friend is going to walk you home yet I don't see anyone beside you." Kita said with a serious tone.

"About that..." You scratched the back of your head as you tried to think of any excuses but you knew that lying would be pointless.

"What if someone kidnapped you? Or worse, took advantage of you? You know I don't like you walking alone especially when the sun had already set yet you still did it. Why did you lie?"

You felt like a child being scolded by your mother but instead of taking it the wrong way, you knew that Kita was only looking out for you. It was just ironic that he broke your heart yet still showed his deep concern for your being.

"It's because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," you finally admitted. "I just confessed to you yesterday and I thought thay maybe I might make you uncomfortable if I kept sticking beside you. I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"What are you talking about?" Kita stopped walking and turned towards you. "You were never an inconvenience and will never be one."

"Sorry, Shin."

"No. I should be the one to apologize. I made a very rash decision yesterday and ended up rejecting you. I thought that having romantic feelings towards someone would just be a waste of time but I came to realize that it isn't a waste of time if its with you," Kita said with a gentle look on his face.

You didn't speak for a few seconds and just let his words sink in, a feeling of hope igniting inside you when you realized what he was trying to say. "Do you mean that?" you asked hopefully.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Seeing you shake your head no, Kita leaned in to press his forehead against yours. "I like you, y/n."

You felt your heart beat picking up with those simple words and without waiting for anything else, you pressed your lips against his.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Being the cousin of Tendou Satori had its perks

And one of those perks is the opportunity to see Ushijima everyday

You are only a year younger than them yet despite that, you get along with the team very well

After all, it had been a part of your daily routine to always visit the school's gym

What you didn't expect, however, was to fall for a certain captain

And you, being one of the most open and honest person, confessed the moment you realized your feelings towards him

And despite being turned down several times already, you still persisted, claiming that you'll do everything to make him fall for you

But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it just isn't enough

"Where's 'Toshi?" you asked Satori when you entered the gym, flashing a small smile to the others before sitting down on an empty bench.

"Talking to the coach." Satori looked at the plastic you were holding and grinned as he noticed what was inside. "Really, y/n-chan? You know that won't work on Ushiwaka, right?"

You just shrugged and placed the item beside you. "It's worth a try, 'Tori. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally be able to get a reaction out of him."

"Y/n."

You looked behind you upon hearing Wakatoshi. "Hi, Toshi. Did you miss me?" you said and flashed him a bubbly smile.

"You always come here everyday. I do not see any reason for me to miss you," he simply answered before taking a seat beside you, eyes glancing at the carrot stuffed toy before focusing on the court.

Satori, who witnessed the whole exchange, just laughed at you, his eyes squinting as he clutched his stomach in tears. "Well, there's your reaction," he said while still catching his breath.

"You don't have to be so mean, Toshi." You pouted and handed him the stuffed toy you brought.

"What's this for?" he asked in slight confusion while examining the carrot you gave him.

"That's a gift. Haven't you noticed? Its been 8 months since I started courting you." You grinned at him.

"Oh? Y/n's courting captain?" came Tsutomu who was wiping his sweat with a clean towel, eyes glancing at the carrot before he exclaimed, "I want one too!"

"Have it." Your eyes widened when Ushijima handed the carrot stuffed toy to Tsutomu. "I don't need it, and please stop giving me stuff from now on. They are irrelevant."

"I worked hard for that! You don't know how much token I spent just to get that from the claw machine!" You frowned at Wakatoshi and took the toy from Tsutomu who's now obviously confused with what's happening.

"Then I'll pay the amount you spent. Just stop giving me random stuff from now on. I don't need them and I don't have any feelings for you," Ushijima said with a passive voice.

You bowed your head and Satori immediately panicked, his arm reaching out to you but you only recoiled. "You're the worst, Toshi!" you yelled at Ushijima before dropping the toy on the floor and running out of the gym.

All three of them were in shock at your outburst, completely not expecting you to say such thing. You've always been bubbly around them so hearing those words from you was something they never expected coming.

"I think you made y/n mad, Captain," Tsutomu said while picking the carrot and dusting it off.

"But all I did was say the truth," Ushijima reasoned out, eyes focused on Tsutomu who was now hugging the toy that was supposed to be his.

Satori just sighed and turned around to go back practicing.

"Captain?" Tsutomu muttered with a confused look as Ushijima suddenly took the carrot from him.

"It's mine."

For the sixth time of the day, Ushijima glanced at the closed door of the gym.

It had been almost a week and he haven't caught a single glimpse of you. No visits, no 'coincidentally' bumping on each other despite having different floor levels, nor surprised bentos. Nothing. It basically felt as if you don't exist anymore.

He doesn't even know why he seemed bothered with it. Wasn't it him who pushed you away? He should feel relieved now that you were no longer bothering him, right?

Then why did it felt like he was missing you?

"Y/n's not coming," Tendou said beside Ushijima.

"I know. They haven't been visiting lately." Ushijima stared at Tendou seriously, making the red hair chuckle before raising his hands up in surrender.

"I don't have any idea where y/n-chan is. Even if I do, my lips are sealed," Tendou said before making a zipper motion.

Ushijima sighed and looked down at the ball resting between his feet. "I don't like it when they're avoiding me."

"Hm, I can't blame my cousin for doing that though. They've been pining over you for quite a while now and each time they confess, you end up rejecting them. I guess yesterday was their breaking point," Satori explained with a shrug, "Maybe you got used to the feeling of them coming back everytime you reject them that you don't know how to feel now that they stopped chasing you."

"I..like y/n."

Just as he said those words, the gym doors suddenly opened. You entered with your usual bubbly expression, a wrapped bento in hand as you made your way to them.

"I noticed that you weren't carrying your bento awhile ago so I brought it with me," you said as you handed the bento to Satori, not even bothering to spare a glance at Ushijima who was intensely looking at you.

"Y/n," Ushijima said making you turn to him.

"Yes Ushijima-san?"

Ushijima blinked at the mention of his surname. He knew that it was normal for people to call him Ushijima since it was his name but hearing you say it seemed bothering for some reason. He was used to you calling him either Toshi or Waka-kun.

"I like you, y/n," he said without hesitation.

Satori facepalmed at Ushijima's straightforwardness. Deciding to give you both some space, he stood up and walked away with his bento, leaving the two of you to talk.

You sat down and crossed your arms over chest, body facing Wakatoshi as you waited for him to explain and apologize properly.

"I'm sorry for how I acted a few days ago, I was merely being honest that time, but now I realized that I like you too... and I also did not mean to disregard your efforts just to get Mr. Carrot," Ushijima said while slightly scooting closer to you, his hand obviously trying to reach for yours.

"You named the stuff toy Mr. Carrot?" you asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't need it.."

"That was a mistake. Mr. Carrot is actually sleeping in my bed as of this moment." The side of Ushijima's lips curled up when you giggled, the sound making his heart race.

"I appreciate you trying to be nice to me, Toshi, but you really hurt me back then, you know? I even had to stay away for a couple of days," you said before looking down at your lap to play with your fingers.

Panic started bubbling up inside Ushijima at your sudden silence. Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he asked you carefully, "Do you still like me? I'm really sorry, y/n. I missed your presence inside the gym. It's not the same without you. It's been too... quiet. Please give me another chance."

You lifted your head upon hearing that, clearly not expecting Ushijima to say those words in almost a pleading manner.

Ushijima took your surprised reaction as a cue to continue. He carefully took your hand in his, his hand completely engulfing yours as he intertwined your fingers. "I won't be aggressive towards you anymore. I know you said you hate me and I'm not the best at this kind of things but for you, I'll try."

You pulled your hand away from him, only to quickly wrap your arms around him, the action obviously catching Ushijima off guard. "I never hated you, 'Toshi," you mumbled with your face buried to his chest.

"Does that mean you still like me?" He said as soon as he composed himself, an unusual soft expression forming on his face when he felt you nodding.

You felt yourself melting even more to his touch when he secured an arm around your waist. "I like you so much, 'Toshi," you said as you looked up him.

"I like you too, y/n." With that, Ushijima leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

a/n: lately, my mind has been filled with wakatoshi ushijima

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

Note

Hey there Savi.. could i request a kou,mitsuba and tsukasa x reader where their s/o gets bullied alot?? I've been struggling with it recently and now that school is going to start again im dreading it .. thank you in advance <3

kou minamoto x gn!reader, mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader, tsukasa yugi x gn!reader

a/n: of course!! I’m really sorry that you’ve had experiences like that, but I also genuinely hope that this year will be better! You’ve got this-!! And don’t be afraid to ask for help <3 you’re so so welcome, tho I’m sure schools probably started by now, therefore I’m super sorry for the time this took- and thank you so much for requesting <3

Waaaaaah i’m also sorry if it’s OOC, cos I know Tsukasa’s at least is;;; writer’s block is aaaaaaah-;; I’ve genuinely been writing this since September 19th,,,,

warnings: bullying

word count: 2,044

kou minamoto <3

You glanced at your phone screen, the date flashing up at you. It was depressing. Thoughts of previous years danced in your head, as you shut your phone back off. You currently stood outside of your school, “open house” finally over. School was starting back in just a few days. Your days of freedom could be counted on one hand… this was, by far, one of your least favorite times of the year.

“(Y/N)! Do you still want to walk to the park?” Kou questioned, running up beside you. You nodded, hoping that spending time with your boyfriend would get your mind off of school, and memories related to such. As the two of you began to walk, you could practically feel the question on the tip of Kou’s tongue. He always made himself rather obvious- his hands fidgeted a bit, his gaze lowering to the ground.

“Say, (Y/N)... you seem sad. Is it because school’s starting back?”

You thought for a moment, unsure of how to put it. He certainly wasn’t wrong…

“Yeah, that’s basically it… last year was just… not a good year, haha.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sure this one will be better!! If you want, we can make a list or something? All the bad things about last year can be something we change this year-!”

Despite bitterly knowing that it wasn’t exactly something within your realm of control, you laughed a bit. “That’s… insanely corny, Kou. I didn’t say a terrible idea- just… corny.”

When you glanced up at him, you noticed his red face, as he blurted out an excuse. A moment of fumbling over his words passed, before he gave up, glancing off to the side once more.

“Wh-whatever- I mean, just… like, tell me what’s wrong, if you want to. And I’ll try to help. Alright?”

“It’s really not something either of us can help, Kou.”

“So? I’m your boyfriend,” He seemed a bit embarrassed to say, most likely not used to pulling that sort of card, “If you don’t want to tell me, I can’t make you. But, if you’re alright with telling me, I want to know. Either way, I’m here for you...”

“Ah… I know it, Kou. Honestly, I just… dealt with some bullying last year, so I’m really not looking forward to this year. No matter how much I hear ‘oh, the bully does it to feel better about themself’, it’s just emotionally… hm, awful, you know?”

“Oh… I understand, (Y/N). I do remember some people picking on me, since I have a big brother like Teru- it’s not fun at all. Here!! I’ll stay with you, 24/7! Sit with me during classes, and I’ll hang out with you during free time!” “Thanks, Kou- but we probably won’t have every class together.”

“Then- just tell me if something happens during the class,” He spoke, crossing his arms rather seriously. “I’ll talk with the teacher! Easy peasy!!”

A moment passed, before Kou took your hand, looking at the ground, then back up with you. His eyebrows were furrowed just slightly, his eyes not as wide as they usually were. Kou was being serious- as serious as his sweet mind could let him be. He almost seemed to resemble his big brother even more- when the two were serious.

“If something happens, tell me, okay? I mean it. I don’t want this year to be bad for you- as your friend and boyfriend! Let me do what I can to help, alright?”

You blinked a bit. Kou’s words were so sincere, you felt your heart beat a bit quicker. “A-alright. Thank you, Kou. I really mean it.” You spoke, bringing the boy into a hug to hide whatever sort of expression you were making.

“Of course! You don’t need to thank me, (Y/N). I’m happy to try and help-!”

mitsuba sousuke <3

“(Y/N), if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll give you something to complain about.”

Ah, Mitsuba… he spoke, his arms crossed as he sat next to you, silently noticing your slightly disheveled clothes. Judging by the slightly down look you wore, too many things were now adding up. Something was bothering you, and he was bound and determined to find out what it was.

“Mitsuba, it’s okay, really. Here! Let’s eat, I’m starving!” You opened up your bento box, sliding one his way, and sticking the chopsticks into your mouth. Though you hummed happily, Mitsuba was… in Detective Mode, to put it lightheartedly. Your every move was being analyzed, as he tried his best to figure out what was wrong. Your eyebrows furrowed, as you swallowed a bit harder than usual.

“What’s the point of lying to me, dummy? If you aren’t hungry, it’s probably because whatever is bothering you is ruining your appetite. Talk to me. I’m serious.”

You sighed, feeling as if the food was stuck in your throat. Or maybe your throat simply felt as though it had a lump in it…? Either way, you were painfully aware of the unpleasant feeling. Along with the creeping suspicion that Mitsuba wasn’t going to leave this alone. Was he good at reading people?? Were you just easy to read…? Or maybe, he was just far too accustomed to the way you reacted to things. Able to focus in on the little things, especially when he wanted to. Perhaps it was the talent of a photographer? Being able to read the entire picture??

Perhaps you were thinking too much into it, desperate for a way to get your mind off of the things going on around you.

“I’m just… dealing with some stuff.”

“Well, duh. What kind of stuff?”

You kept your gaze glued to the floor, fiddling absentmindedly with the chopsticks. You knew you could confide in Mitsuba… yet, something about it felt practically impossible. What would happen if you told him? Could he do anything? He was merely a ghost…

“Oi, I asked a question. Listen, and listen well, you idiot- I know I can’t solve all your problems, but I can at least listen- which is what you’d better be doing right now. You listen to me, though who wouldn’t want to is beyond me, so I can at least do the same. I’m not your therapist, but I am your boyfriend.”

Those words danced around in your mind for a bit, as you considered how to put it. For a moment, you simply nodded, letting Mitsuba know you heard- and were acknowledging- what he said. A few more moments passed before you began to speak.

“Lately, there have been some students… picking on me, I guess. It’s… discouraging, and makes school feel like a living nightmare. You’re the only good thing in my day at this hellhole.”

“Oh.”

You tightened your grip on the chopsticks, trying to read Mitsuba’s tone. Suddenly, it clicked- remembering Mitsuba mentioning being bullied for being “feminine” and “foul-mouthed”. He truly, genuinely, understood where you were coming from.

“I see, then… I’ll tell you what to do, (Y/N). Tell an adult, lame-o. I don’t give a flying flip about ‘oh, they won’t believe me’ or ‘what if the bullies blah blah.’ At least try it- it’s hard, but I don’t care about that either. Also, freaking ignore them. Obviously, you don’t want to pay them attention, so don’t.”

“Mitsuba, it’s not that easy-”

“I know. (Y/N), I’ve been in your shoes. Maybe it’s different- I dunno what kind of bullying they’re doing. Still, if you’re good enough for my standards, you know you’re at least worth something. So don’t let those low-lives get you down. I promise you, if I could, I’d give them a piece of my mind. But, since I can’t, just… do it yourself, or something. Don’t endure it, you rat.”

(“Mitsuba, all your insults lowkey feel like bullying-”

“Shut up, stupid-face, you can’t tell a teacher on a ghost. What’re you gonna say?? Waaaah, sensei, school mystery number 3 is calling me names!! Hah.”

“Tsuchigomori-sensei can see you, you know. And he teaches both Minamoto boys!”

“Lalalaaaa, I can’t hear you-”)

tsukasa yugi <3

Tsukasa… knows.

There was no other way to put it. You knew he knew, and you knew he was just waiting. A part of him wanted you to ask him for help- to confide in him, even if it took some pushing. He was… a bit different in that sense- I mean, how was he to know you didn’t enjoy being bullied? Was it the same way he felt when Amane looked at him with such hatred?

“(Y/N)!! What’s with such a sad look?? Did you get a bad test grade?” Tsukasa questioned, floating alongside you as you entered the broadcasting room. You simply shook your head, placing your bookbag on the floor, then standing back up.

“It’s just been a day, Tsu,” You added, taking a seat near Sakura. As you did, she pushed a cup of tea your way, her gaze as it usually was. She looked right through you, as if you were nothing but a ghost. Still, it was a much better look than the ones given by the bullies. Muttering a ‘thank you’, you lifted the cup, fiddling with it slightly.

“If there’s something bothering you, feel free to share it,” Sakura spoke, her gaze staying on you, then finally closing as she sipped from her cup.

“If there’s something bothering you, share it.” Tsukasa added, placing his head on your shoulder and staring at your eyes. His gaze drifted to your hands when you brought the cup to your lips, then over to your throat as you struggled to swallow.

“Runt, if you don’t back away from them, you’ll the the one bothering them,” Natsuhiko spoke, raising his eyebrows at Tsukasa, then offering you a slightly concerned look. His expression was enough for you to know he wanted to know if you were alright- to which you shrugged, reaching up and patting the side of Tsukasa’s face.

“Don’t worry, guys. I’ll be fine, really.”

Sakura pondered for a moment, before standing. “Mitsuba, would you like to walk with me? I should go grab something.”

Mitsuba, who had been sitting off to the side- glanced up, his usual puppy-like expression on his face. “Sure,” He replied, standing up, practically in sync with Natsuhiko.

“I’ll go as well, my lady!”

Oh. She’s doing that on purpose.

Your eyes followed the trio as they left the room, and you could feel Tsukasa’s eyes still stuck on you. The moment the door shut, he spoke. “(Y/N), tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem to enjoy being miserable!”

“Am I supposed to?” “You’re miserable then? What’s wrong, c’mon!!”

“I didn’t say I was- just that I don’t think many people like it,” You spoke, taking another sip from the tea. The warmth of it made your throat feel hot, but it didn’t help the lump stuck in it.

“(Y/N). Just admit to me what’s wrong, and I’ll do what I can!”

You sighed, not wanting to grow frustrated. Tsukasa was… trying. He just didn’t understand everything- the boy who enjoyed seeing people wear normally unpleasant expressions, of course he wouldn’t personally understand. He wanted to help you, but how could a ghost help? Much less, the ghost of a boy such as him?

“(Y/N)-” “I’m just dealing with some bullies. It’s fine, Tsukasa- I’ll figure something out.”

“I’ll kill them <3”

“Tsu-”

Tsukasa stepped away from you, crossing his arms. “So, (Y/N), you don’t like it when people bully you? I’ll take care of it! Promise!” “Stop it right there, Mr. Only-grants-wishes-for-the-dead. Don’t ‘take care of them.’ I just need to get enough confidence to tell a teacher or something…”

Tsukasa paused, pouting his lips slightly, before nodding. Quickly, he floated back over to you, and trapped you in a hug. His arms wrapped around you securely, making you feel rather safe for being in the arms of such a destructive boy. “Fine. I’ll go with you, then, (Y/N)! I’ll even hold your hand!! And I definitely won’t let those bullies bother you any more~.”

“Tsukasa, please, don’t do anything drastic-” “Whatever you say, (Y/N). You know I can’t go against the wishes of my cute partner~!”

#anon #gn!reader #x gn!reader #oneshot #tbhk #jshk #kou minamoto #mitsuba sousuke #tsukasa yugi #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #kou minamoto x reader #mitsuba sousuke x reader #tsukasa yugi x reader

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beauty-and-passion · 4 years

Text

Time to talk about the flower shirt

You read the title. Time to talk about this.

This is the infamous flower shirt Thomas put on in his store and, since the fandom is the fandom, everyone started to speculate about those flowers.

At first, I didn’t want to do it. They’re just flowers and other people already talked about them, so what could I possibly add to the conversation?

But while I was writing about Orange, I had to talk a moment about the orange flower. It was supposed to be a small parenthesis, just a couple of words about that.

But then I looked at the other flowers and what other people told/not told about them and how some didn’t find Patton’s flower... so here I am, adding my two cents to this theme.

You needed it? Probably not. Well, I’m writing it anyway.

So let’s take a closer look at those flowers and see each one in detail:

__________________________________

Roman: Red rose

Should I really explain why it’s perfect for Roman? Red roses are the universal symbol of love. Basically in all cultures red roses symbolize passion, true love, romance and desire. Also, according to this website, even the shade has a meaning! In fact, the deeper the red shade is, the stronger is the passion.

And even the number of red roses has a meaning! In this case, we have only one single red rose and that "represents love at first sight, or if it’s coming from a long-term partner, they are saying “you are still the one”.”

You know what that made me think? About Thomas telling Roman “You’re my hero”. A perfect symbol that he was “still the one” for Thomas.

__________________________________

Orange: Lantana camara

This is an incredibly peculiar flower.

Lantana Camara symbolizes severity and rigour. And this alone can be analyzed in all possible ways, but there are other interesting details about this plant I think it's worth mentioning.

Lantana is toxic for livestock, such as cattle, sheep, horses, dogs and goats. According to Wikipedia, previous studies suggested it could be toxic for humans too, especially the green unripe berries. However "other studies have found evidence which suggests that its fruit poses no risk to humans".

Lantana is a freaking invasive plant. In some areas, it's so predominant, to reduce biodiversity, because its presence "can significantly slow down the regeneration of forests, by preventing the growth of new trees". Also, as if this isn't enough, this plant can also produce toxic chemicals which inhibit other plant species.

Lantana has also a great adaptability, that helped it to be so invasive: it can live in a wide range of different environmental conditions, it can survive long periods without water, heck it's even resistant to fire. It's not a plant you can underestimate. Like Orange, I assume.

But Lantana isn't just an invasive plant. Lantana has always been used for medical purposes, because it showed good antimicrobial, fungicidal and insecticidal properties and its extract helps against respiratory infections and ulcers.

Also, since it doesn't have many pests or diseases, lantana became a common ornamental plant. It even attracts butterflies!

In other words: isn't that the perfect plant to symbolize the double nature of a dark side? It can be a threat, change the environment, destroy and even kill. But it can also be a medicine, something useful, something beautiful.

Whoever Orange is, Lantana camara tells us that, whithout a doubt, he’s a dark side.

__________________________________

Janus: Sunflower

Do you think Janus isn't perfect enough as he is? Do you think there's not enough husband material in the snek?

Well, you’re wrong and the sunflower is here to prove it.

Sunflower symbolizes loyalty, adoration, longevity, vitality, worship. Now add this up to the sunflower’s behaviour and how it follows the sun... and you’ll get Janus. Janus literally acts like a sunflower: Thomas is his sun and everything Janus does is for him. His whole existence is centered around Thomas.

But we already knew that, because it's the same message that shone through his playlist. Everything about Janus tells us how much he adores Thomas, from his canonical behavior in the series, to his playlist, to this flower.

Oh, do you need another proof that this is flower is perfect for Janus? Some societies use sunflowers as religious symbols. Ah, some good ol' reference to religion: it’s like being in his playlist all over again.

And, of course, sunflowers are used for a variety of reasons, like cooking oils, skin care and so on. Even the flower says self care.

This man is perfect.

__________________________________

Remus: Green chrysanthemum

Here's another interesting flower.

Chrysanthemum symbolizes death and it’s the typical flower used for funerals. And I thought this was its universal meaning. It was perfect for Remus just like that.

But then I found out that Europeans use chrysanthemums for funerals and to honor the dead. This flower actually has a whole lot of meanings, some completely different from this.

In China, for example, chrysanthemums are associated with wealth, prosperity and long life. Also they're symbols of new life and reincarnations, so they're the perfect gift for old people or newborns.

While in Japan chrysanthemums are symbols of power and royalty. And that's even more fitting for Remus, because he's a Duke, so he is royalty.

But chrysanthemum also symbolizes friendship - and not just "a friendship", but a meaningful one. It's a symbol of loyalty, devotion, romantic/platonic love and, in general, positive energy. It's a flower with an incredibly strong meaning, so it can't be given too lightly.

And this makes it even more perfect for Remus. It's a flower with a huge plurality of meanings, it's both associated with life and death, it's powerful and it's royalty.

Also, you can eat it. Isn't that the perfect Remus flower?

(On a side note: please notice how chrysanthemums and sunflowers are both associated with joy, loyalty and devotion. I would have never considered "joy" a common trait between Janus and Remus while loyalty and devotion... well, they both care about Thomas and his career and they both work for him despite not being accepted, so I can see why those are common traits.)

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Patton: Nemophila

Surprise surprise, this flower wasn't easy to find. I’ve never heard of it, so I had to search among endless lists of blue flowers, hoping to find one that would perfectly match the one on the shirt.

And that’s how I found nemophila.

First of all: nemophila is also known as "Baby Blue Eyes" and it's an extremely rare color to find in nature. It’s very famous in Japan, thanks to the Hitachi Seaside Park. Open this link: it’s a literal sea of blue and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Of course, it attracts people every year.

Nemophila represents prosperity, congratulations on success and victory. Not the first things you would associate with Patton, right?

Well, while I was searching more informations about this flower, I found out this website about the essence of Baby Blue Eyes and the passage I quoted down below has the exact same words you can find on that link:

With its pronounced affinity for water, the Baby Blue Eyes flower essences addresses qualities of tender sensitivity, innocence and trust associated one’s early childhood relationship to the father, or other significant masculine figures that are in some way disturbed.

Very often the father was absent, or there was a lack of support or genuine presence. The Baby Blue Eyes type attempts over time to cover this wound of vulnerability with a false “hardening,” such as emotional distancing, mistrust, cynicism or spiritual alienation. It is a flower that can be equally helpful for men or women, although it is especially needed for many men who struggle to become strong, by disowning their pain.

So nemophilia’s essence has qualities associated with childhood, to the father figure and attempts to “repress” and hide emotions.

That’s Patton. That’s him, period. The childhood-related emotions, that are linked to Patton’s longing for “a simpler time”. The mentions of a father figure - who migh be absent or showing lack of support (like, idk, suggesting you should die so your friends live?). And the attempt to “cover the vulnerability” doesn’t remind you anything? Like the Nostalgia episodes?

This flower is Patton.

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Logan: Blue petunia

I would like to say, from the bottom of my heart, a huge "FUCK YOU" to this flower, because I spent TWO DAYS searching all the blue flowers in the world and all possible variants, asking myself why this goddamn flower looked so familiar and why it was so hard to find. Blue isn't even a common color in nature, so why couldn't I find it?

I've learned more about blue flowers in these two days than in my entire life. I've searched among flowers I never saw before, like glandora diffusa, leschenaultia and omphalodes verna. I was so desperate to consider this flower a new species, with the petals of a bellflower and the corolla of a morning glory. I even found a goddamn chinese variant of the morning glory that was somehow similar but not that much and why, WHY this was so hard to find?!

And then, after two days and a lot more desperation, I remembered: my dear friend @reptilianwithscallions told me about a post they made, regarding this shirt and the flowers. Maybe they had some idea about Logan's flower?

Well, let's all thank my saviour and this post, because otherwise I would've kept searching until the end of my days.

Long story short, Logan's flower is a fucking blue petunia.

And it's a very peculiar choice, because petunias have multiple meanings, several of which can be contradictory.

In general, petunia symbolizes anger and resentment. It reminds someone that you're still angry or disappointed by their actions and you haven’t gotten over the things that caused these feelings.

Oh my, I didn't know we were back in Logan's playlist. It's basically what he kept expressing towards Thomas with his songs: that he was angry at Thomas for his decision, that he doesn't approve that Thomas hasn't "a real job" and so on. Petunia is a flower that screams passive-aggressive, so it's perfect for Logan.

But petunia's meaning deeply changes, depending on the color of the flower. And while petunia in general symbolizes anger, a blue petunia is a symbol of peacefulness, intimacy and deep trust, shared between two or more people. It's so wholesome, because the deep trust reminds me - again - of Logan's playlist and how it ended: no matter what, he and Thomas are always best friends.

Also, petunia flowers have even a secret meaning behind. Since they’re also gifted to new neighbors or to people who have just moved into a new home, they represent a perfect welcome and a way to express affection and kindness to others.

You’re lucky to be so wholesome, you tricky flower.

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Virgil: Perennial Geranium

Geranium is a confused flower.

Some of the other flowers have conflicted meanings, but not as much as this flower. These are the most common meanings I found:

Folly or Stupidity

Gentility and kind nature

Clever minds

Ingenuity

Melancholy

Perfect gift for a bride

You can gift it to someone with whom you have planned a meeting

You can gift it to someone with whom you haven't planned a meeting, just to make them feel welcomed

True Friendship

See? It’s confused.

Aside from jokes, this variety of meanings is due to its great diffusion: since geraniums grow everywhere, every culture gave them a different meaning. And sometimes these meanings depend on the situation too.

Awww, isn't it perfect for Virgil? He can be good and bad at the same time. Anxiety can be bad for Thomas and detrimental for his life, but it can also be the alarm Thomas needs. It depends on the situation.

And, just like geraniums in general symbolize positive emotions, happiness and friendship, so Virgil is in general a good guy. All he does is for Thomas' wellbeing, not against him.

And this is confirmed by the vast use of geranium's essential oil. It's one of the most popular and it has a ton of properties: anti-viral, anti-bacterial, anti-inflammatory, anti-depressant, decongestant, relaxing and so on. Just like our Virge boy can be incredibly useful under the right circumstances. (Did someone say "Flirting with social Anxiety"?)

Also, geraniums are simple, humble flowers that usually grow outside, but then we take them and make them part of our homes. Once again, it’s Virgil: he's an outsider, he's humble, he talks bad about himself - but Thomas and the others took him and made him part of the famILY anyway.

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Thomas: Cherry blossom

I searched this flower everywhere and the only one that looks like the one on the shirt is the cherry blossom. Why did Thomas make a cherry blossom with eight petals, when they all have five? I have no idea. Is this a different flower, maybe? Maybe, but I’m done: I've looked at enough flowers and I don’t have any strength left.

As you probably already know, cherry blossoms are extremely important in Japan. They're beautiful, they're everywhere and they're meaningful.

Why? Because cherry blossoms are considered the perfect metaphor for human existence. When they blossom it's a pink ocean, a party, people go to admire them - but they’re short lived, because in two weeks, the blossoms start to fall. It's just like human life: a small, rich, glorious parenthesis in the void. Something little and precious that ends soon.

But cherry blossoms also symbolize rebirth, optimism, hopes and dreams. When they bloom, it means springtime is coming and spring has always been associated with renewal.

That’s a very good choice for character Thomas. He’s basically a cherry blossom, the whole series is: something that reminds us how beautiful life is, how multi-faceted, how important. Just like Thomas' single being encompasses seven different sides of himself, so life presents a wide range of choices, of aspects, of flavours. All beautiful, all worthy of appreciation, no matter how different they can be from you and your experience.

And this becomes even more important, in relation to the passage of time and the transience of life. Because life is short and, after that, there won't be any more time to appreciate anything.

In addition to that, I would like to point out how the theme of passage of time is something we already saw in the series. And not just one time, but several. Since the first season, we have episodes all around the concept of growing up, growing old, not being a child anymore, becoming an adult. And the last Aside keeps going in this direction. It's clear this is a big theme and its connection with the cherry blossoms proves it.

But why is the flower so different on the shirt? Because Thomas wanted to mess up with us? Probably. Almost certainly. Once again, thank you Mr. Sanders for making me question everything.

The floor is (figuratively) yours now: if you have any other information, thoughts or opinions, feel free to share them.

_______________________________

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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ok. karin vs anakin's genome being 50% the Force. go

Jesus fuck, okay. Uh, fair warning, I know very little about this subject, so it’s 90% bullshit. I am in no way qualified to talk about biology past the high school level.

Anakin's sixteen. He's part of a set of Jedi assigned to a weird mission regarding making contact with an isolated planet of near-humans with superpowers but no space travel. He doesn’t really have a Job here and now, he’s just there as Obi-Wan’s plus-one. There's an underlying plot about Sidious trying to acquire people from Ninja Land, but none of the Jedi are fully aware of it. Mostly they're distracted by all the ninjas and their bitching.

They call it the Shinobi Planet, because nobody can agree on a name for the planet when they ask and the last major international alliance was named after the shinobi profession, right? Good enough, you can change it later when you idiots can agree on literally anything, oh my god. The Samurai are very offended and it's a whole thing.

Anakin wanders a lot. He runs into various strange people and is mostly polite because, listen, half his friends are distinctly not human. When your immediate circle includes nautolans and besalisks and twi’leks and whatever the fuck Yoda is, you’re not gonna blink at a Hoshigaki or... uh... okay that kid just turned into a giant fox, is anybody gonna--no? That’s normal? Just him? Cool, cool, cool.

There’s a kage summit involved in the negotiations going on. IDK what’s being negotiated, probably something to get the ninjas to set up a singular spaceport so there’s somewhere to land WITHOUT ships being regularly shot down by village defense systems powered by that massive flaming purple skeleton warrior or the girl who punched down a mountain or the.. the literal desert? There’s a guy that can control the desert? Is there any way of keeping him away from Anakin?

(Gaara’s tickled pink that the reason someone wants to stay away from him has nothing to do with fear or respect for authority, and everything to do with ‘he is also from the desert and fucking hates it, so he’s staying away from the sand powers,’ because it’s very novel and kind of funny.)

ANYWAY where was I. Uh. Right, kage summit, lots of villages, they invite smaller villages to pitch in, but nobody ever ever ever wants Orochimaru anywhere near this situation, for hopefully obvious reasons, so Otogakure sends Karin.

Really, who else was it gonna be? Suigetsu? You want Suigetsu representing you on an interstellar political field? You want Juugo before he’s stabilized? You want Sasuke, master of ruining kage summits? You want these idiots representing you at the big kids’ table?

They send Karin. She’s a bitch with a temper, but at least she’s not as big of a political risk as... literally anyone else from the snakepit.

Anyway, Anakin wanders around, meeting people, trying foods, showing off when asked for demonstrations. He doesn’t have an Entire Protocol Droid, but he did cobble together a little floating helper that can do translations for him. Assume all translations are accurate and being done by the little helper bot. Bot’s name is G1-0T. Anakin calls it Glot.

He runs into Karin at one point, who’s not super into the whole situation, but at least Anakin’s interesting. She’s not interested in him, because he’s sixteen and she’s like... mid-twenties. And his hair is stupid. But! All these force-sensitive people feel weird to her, because sensor stuff, and it’s not chakra but it’s... something. Anakin is, of course, the weirdest.

(There are non-sensitives in the envoy, so she knows it’s not just a space thing.)

She strikes up a conversation about it, because hey, she hasn’t made it this far to not lean into... you know, being the kind of person who barges ahead with Weird Questions that might lead into fun science stuff.

Anakin is like. Well. This woman’s very strange, but it’s not like there’s anything against talking about midichlorians to random people. It’s easy enough to look up in the core. Not everyone knows about them, but it’s not a secret or anything.

“Wow,” Karin says, though not in so many words, “that sounds incredibly strange, and actually a lot like it functions completely differently from chakra, though maybe it intersects with nature chakra somehow. Can I take a blood sample?”

Anakin doesn’t want to give a blood sample to a stranger. Karin isn’t stupid enough to try to steal one. She’s seen what this Force Stuff can do, and this kid’s got a lot of it. She hasn’t got enough information on hand about it to know if he’d notice.

“How about I let you look at the blood of a guy that can turn into water?” Karin asks, because she’s not going to let him look at her blood. “I’ve got it with me.”

“...why?” Anakin asks, reasonably disturbed.

“He owes me,” she says, and does not elaborate.

“What, there’s nothing weird about your blood to share?” Anakin demands, like the ornery little bastard he is.

“People took my blood against my will for over a decade,” Karin says, with the kind of smile that threatens a stabbing. This is not secret information. Her healing factor is in the bingo book. Plenty of people still want her dead. “Nobody gets my blood except me.”

Anakin has no idea what to do with that answer. Most people wouldn’t know what to do with that answer. It’s not exactly a standard answer.

“So there is something weird about your--e chu ta what the fuck are those scars?”

Karin looks at her arm. She looks back at him. She raises an eyebrow.

“What do you think they are?”

He stares a little longer, and then very carefully does not say anything as she pushes her sleeve back down.

“So can I look at your blood?” she asks again.

“Uh--”

“You can look at mine under a microscope,” she wheedles. “You can’t take any, though.”

Anakin... does eventually agree. Eventually.

-----------

There is a very angry redhead yelling at a machine, and Anakin does not know what to do.

“Is something wr--”

“What the fuck is your blood?” she demands. “It’s glowing in ultraviolet. It burned the dye up. I tried to sequence your genome--”

“Woah, I did not agree to that.”

“--and look at this. Look at this!”

“I don’t know how to read your graphs. None of this is a language I know.”

“It’s garbage,” she hisses at him. Glot takes a few moments to process it. “Look at this. This is supposed to--fuck, where’s the Jiraiya file, he’s standard--this is what it’s supposed to look like for most humans with chakra. And this is a civilian, and a few bloodline users--”

“Do you just carry these around with you?”

“Shut up, you don’t exist. You have--you have more in common with summons than people. I ran a blood test on one of your human diplomats, the ones that aren’t monks--”

“When did they agree to that?”

“They didn’t, I’m just sneaky.”

“I should tell Obi-W--”

“STAY THERE, I’M NOT DONE YELLING YET. Do you see this? Do you see this shit? This is the one and only time I’ve managed to perform any kind of analysis on a bijuu. They don’t usually have blood. Shukaku is sand. Matatabi is literally just fire. This was almost impossible to make happen, but I did it because I’m a dedicated biomedical resea--”

“Because you’re unhinged.”

“--rcher, and you know what? You know what I’ve found?”

“What?”

“Your blood looks like you’re half demon,” she says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking, a little wild-eyed and clearly pissed at him. “Half of it’s human! Half of it looks like the non-physical chakra manifestations that were torn-apart remnants of a godlike demon. The fuckers can’t die. They also can’t breed. They don’t have reproductive organs! This isn’t just demon-tainted like a jinchuuriki, I’ve got that analyzed--”

“Why?”

“Because my cousin’s a moron, don’t change the subject. You--you shouldn’t exist. Your blood is stupid. Fuck, is this what I’d find if I analyzed the Sage of the Six Paths?”

“The what?”

She ignores him, frowning at papers. “Is--I need to call Haruno, she might still have some of Kaguya’s blood dried on her old gloves from the war, I know she kept those as a souvenir from the whole ‘punched a god’ thing.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“There was a thing a few years back, godlike alien demon princess who got sealed into a moon by her sons a thousand years ago, but her immortal sentient goo child brought her back with a giant tree that consumed all the tailed beasts-the flaming fox you saw earlier is one of them--and then used a giant eyeball to reflect off the moon to put everyone in a hallucination at the same time so she could eat our life-forces,” Karin dismisses. “It’s not important.”

“There is--what?”

Jedi see many things. Many of those things are very strange.

This is a little much even for Anakin.

“It’s over, if you want the actual details, talk to my idiot cousin,” she huffs. “But now I need to run comparisons between the actual nonsense that is your entire existence and the actual nonsense that is my cousin’s existence, and maybe Sasuke’s... fuck this is going to be a mess, I’m going to have to cross-reference all the clans with bloodlines we know are derived from Kaguya, she’s the only angle we have on gods like that, unless... maybe there’s still some black Zetsu goo somewhere... Orochimaru must have kept a sample...”

“Uh, can I--can I go? I’m not comfortable here.”

“I need to find Naruto so he can call the Sage of the Six Paths out of the afterlife so I can see if I can get blood from a ghost to compare to yours.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Uzumaki Karin #Karin #Karin Uzumaki #Naruto #star wars #mini fic #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Asks #this is so stupid and I have no idea what I'm talking about #bijuu don't even have blood but Anakin's has more in common with THEM than with humans

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