#I don’t know which part wins. depends on the day I guess

[minionwater]

sallies _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

[graveyardlifeguard]

Survivors Part 4

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

The next morning, Eddie and I were both feeling the effects of staying up late as we both moved around the house like drunk zombies. Carla arrives early as usual and laughs at Eddie and I before making the comment, “You both look exhausted.” As we’re getting dressed for the day, she was kind enough to make both of us mugs of coffee. I can’t remember the last time I drank a coffee so fast. Eddie was mature and sipped his correctly while he threw me funny glances when he noticed that mine was gone before we were even halfway to work.

Once at work, Eddie parked the car but before I can move to open the door, I feel his hand on my bicep to which he smoothly pulls me back towards him. A long kiss is once again initiated, which I’m not complaining about. When it’s decided that we both need to come up for air, just like last night, Eddie places a soft kiss to my forehead. Although giving me a kiss before work wasn’t unusual, there was something about this one that just felt… different. It’s not like we weren’t going to see each other for a while. We both worked in the same station, we see each other constantly, well that it is call depending I guess.

“What’s all that about cowboy? We’re both going into the same place.” I ask, still smiling at him.

He pauses before answering, staring into my eyes as though the answers to life greatest mysteries sat behind them. “I just love you so much.”

I don’t know how but the smile on my face somehow grew ten times bigger than it already was. We had this game going for years of who could say ‘I love you’ the “largest.” It was always a race to see who could say it last or the largest amount. To the moon and back, to infinity and back, etc. Usually, he won but today I wanted it to be different. So as quick as I can, I give him a quick kiss on the lips, whisper “I love you more than anything” and high tail it out of the car. I can hear him laughing and yelling behind me but that doesn’t matter. I said it last, so I won this round.

After changing into my uniform, I made sure to hide from Eddie so I can maintain my win. Shift change is done rather quickly with my nighttime relief where he reports that nothing crazy had occurred throughout the night. Hopefully, it would stay that way today. Gathering all the information I have on Sheila Leute, or whatever her name is, I make my phone call to CPS. They give me the generous offer of coming by in a few days to check on Charlie. They tell me how bogged down and short staffed they are, causing there to be a large back up on their already established cases. Fair enough, we unfortunately could relate to low staffing issues. Jumping in my CCP vehicle, I make my way towards Charlie and Sheila’s residence.

Making my way up the elevator, I feel my personal phone vibrating in my pocket. Luckily, my smart watch is connected to my phone so I can see who is calling without having to dig into my pocket. The elevator door opens up at the same time that I see that it’s Eddie who is calling. I end the call and begin to send him a voice message that I’m busy when I notice that Shiela and Charlies apartment door is already open. Walking up to the door, I find Charlie standing by the window, looking absolutely panicked. I rush into the house, quickly finding his mom on the living room floor, grasping at her throat with foam coming out of her mouth. I feel my eyes widen for a moment before I immediately get to work helping her. I hear Charlie say behind me that he had already called Eddie and that Eddie was on the way. That probably explains why Eddie was calling me. I had already told Dispatch where I was and what I was doing so the 118 had to know I was already here.

By the time I hear sirens outside, I had already placed an IV started in her right hand with a bag of Fluids running in. I luckily found a place to hang the bag before I work on ventilating her with the BVM. Charlie tells me that he put eye drops in his moms cereal and that he just wanted to see what would happen when he did it. Before I can say anything to reassure him, the door slams open even further and Captain Mehta and his crew are beside me. I can hear Eddie beginning talking to Charlie as I update Mehta and his squad about Sheila’s condition. From the kitchen, I can hear Charlie tell Eddie that he has known for a while that his mom has been putting eye drops in his food and drinks. My heart drops as I realize that Charlie knew exactly what his mom was doing to him. How she was the one that was poisoning him and making him sick. I glance towards the kitchen and lock eyes with Eddie. The realization that he knew hurts more than either of us could have realized.

“The kid’s going to need treatment too,” Buck starts, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I guess they had figured out how Sheila was causing Charlie’s illness after I left this morning.

“Same kind of poisoning, just smaller doses. But for a really long time.”

After loading both Charlie and Sheila onto stretchers and making sure both crews were okay for the moment, I begin to pack up my gear. Thank God I had brought it up with me. As I reach down to pick up the monitor, a hand beats me to it. A familiar hand that belongs to someone I mentally and emotionally need at the moment. I once again look up and meet Eddie’s eyes. There’s a look of sympathy there that I can’t quite understand. Sure, I had a personal connection to this situation, but not as much as Eddie did. Nothing is said for a moment as I notice that Buck is still standing nearby in the kitchen, with my medical bag on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Is all I can get out for the moment, but it seems to convey everything I want to say as both men just smile and nod at me. Moving towards the elevator, they update me on how they figured out what was causing Charlie to be sick. Eddie tells me about how he saw the eyedrops the other day while looking through the cabinets. By the time we reach the bottom floor and make our way through the lobby, Charlie and Sheila are being wheeled to their respective ambulances. My SUV is sitting out front, now surrounded by Battalion 7, Captain Mehta’s firetruck, and the two ambulances. Noticing the confused look on my face brought on by seeing Battalion 7 with no Bobby in sight, Buck laughs and tells me it was the only vehicle available. On the way to talk to Charlie, the boys place my bags in the back of my vehicle before meeting me at Charlie’s side.

“Will I see her at the hospital?” He asks me. Honestly, the question breaks my heart. Even after knowing what she was doing to him, that was still his mother and he still wanted to be around her. Eddie responds to Charlie before I can, telling him that she’s a little more sick and that she’ll have to go to a different hospital. From the other ambulance I can hear that Sheila has woken up and is now yelling for “her baby.” In all honesty, it pisses me off. How can you, for years, poison your own child yet want to call him your baby. It just didn’t make sense to me. The doors close to the ambulance with them leaving shortly after.

I let out a defeated sigh as Buck and Eddie move towards me. With Buck standing in front of me, Eddie moves to my left, something I had noticed that he had subconsciously started doing ever since he proposed. Nonetheless, I appreciated them being close to me in this moment. My mind needed them to help with the emotional toll this call had taken on me. I feel like I should’ve done more. I knew the other day that something wasn’t right and yet I bit my tongue and did nothing about it. It felt like this whole situation was my fault.

“I should’ve gotten here sooner.” I think to myself, or so I thought. Not realizing that I had said it out loud, I move my eyes away from Charlie’s ambulance and meet the concerned stares of Eddie and Buck. They both knew how I took certain things personal. A call like this with an outcome like this? Oh yeah, I was going to take it personally. Both men move to say something before Captain Mehta, unknowingly, interrupts them.

“Lieutenant, you want to ride with the kid to the hospital?”

“Yeah, that would be gre—” My sentence is cut short as a loud gunshot rings out nearby. It feels as though time stopped. Everything and everyone seems to be moving in slow motion. Looking up at Buck, my brain registers that he is now covered in blood. It’s on his face, his neck, and his shirt. Has he always been in that shirt? It’s not our uniform. Thinking of the uniform, my uniform feels wet all of a sudden. Why would my shirt be wet when it’s not raining outside? Time is still moving incredibly slow as I look towards Eddie, who now has an absolute look of terror on his face. It takes me way too long to realize why my shirt is wet and what’s causing the cold sensation to move down my body. I’ve been shot. Someone shot me. Glancing down at my shoulder, I can see the gnarly hole in uniform shirt that accompanies the new hole that has made its home in my body. My breath catches in my throat, and it feels impossible to stand upright. My knees give out on their own and I feel myself slowly drop to the ground. All at once, time seems to catch back up to me and I find myself staring across the road at Eddie and Buck. They are behind the cover of the firetruck with Mehta appearing to be holding them back. My body grows cold quickly, and my head begins to feel heavy, like it weighs thirty tons. There's a weird, wet sensation on my head and I realize that my blood is soaking through my hair, aiding the cold sensation I’m already feeling. How odd…

Lying on the cold, now blood-soaked ground, I can hear Captain Mehta yelling through the radio that there’s been shots fired. And that a Paramedic has been shot. My brain constantly reminds me, maybe to keep me conscious, that it’s me. I’ve been shot. I’m the Paramedic that’s been shot. Glancing up through blurry vision, that seems to be growing darker by the second, I can still register that Eddie and Buck are lying on the ground, yelling for me. At this point though, my hearing feels like I’m lying on the ocean floor, and they are on the shore, whispering to me. Despite my best attempts at keeping them open, I can feel my eyes shutting.

When I come to, it’s pain that has awoken me. Someone has grabbed my arm. The one will a new hole in it. “I’ve been shot,” I tell myself again and again. Maybe if I keep saying it, my brain will keep me awake. And alive. There’s someone screaming in pain. My brain doesn’t register that it’s me screaming in pain only that someone is screaming. It distracts me long enough that I realize that I might not have been the only one shot. Eddie and Buck are here too. One of them might’ve been shot. Oh God. How was I going to explain this to Christopher or Maddie that their loved one had been shot? While trying to process everything that’s going on, I realize that somehow I’m standing on my own two feet. But it’s not for long as I quickly find myself being thrown over someone’s shoulder and passed along to someone else. I feel like I’m flying as I now see that I’m in the back of the fire truck. Why am I looking up at the roof of the truck?

Items and faces blur together again for a moment and my hearing once more sounds like I’m being dunked under water. It sounds like there’s more gunfire but at this point I can’t really tell what’s going on. A face appears above me and I think it’s Eddie. It’s hard to tell as my eyes keep closing on their own. There’s a sharp tug at my shirt and my vision clears up from the jolt of pain that follows it. Eddie is leaning over me while Buck is slamming thick gauze over the new hole in my shoulder. I’ve been shot. I have been shot. This doesn’t make sense. I was just on a Wellness check call. How am shot? I’ve been shot? Eddie appears again in front of my face and this time I notice the blood covering him. My head falls to the side to check on Buck where I find that he too is blanketed in blood. Somehow though, he’s absolutely covered by it. I can see their mouths moving but I’m not hearing anything that they’re saying.

My brain focuses in again. Eddie and Buck are soaked in blood. Were they shot too? Buck is still holding my shoulder with what feels like all of the strength in his body. If it didn’t hurt so much, I would crack some sort of joke with him about it. Everything blurs again and when I come to this time, they are both leaning over me, and I can finally hear what they are saying. This time, I can see the genuine fear in both of the boys eyes.

“Stay with me baby, you got to stay with us!” Eddie pleads, he can’t sit still as he keeps moving over top of me. His eyes are crazed as he looks all over the place as if he’s searching for something. Another bullet wound maybe? I’ve never seen this look in his eye and I don’t like it. I want to soothe him and tell him that I’m fine but the only thing I manage to cough out is,

“Are y’all hurt?” They look at me like I’m crazy before subconsciously looking over themselves, and each other, before answering. Buck opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. His mouth and jaw twitch to move but it’s like that’s all he can do in the moment.

“No, no, no baby we’re okay. We’re okay, okay? You’re going to be okay and we’re okay” Eddie tells me, struggling to get the words out. In the background I can hear what sounds like Mehta yelling over the radio, “…A Paramedic has been shot…It’s the Lieutenant from the 118!”

Eddie and Buck are back in my line of sight now, but it doesn’t last long. It’s almost like my body needed the reassurance that they were okay so I could rest. Their mouths are moving again, I think, there are words coming out of them. The only thing I feel like I know is that I have a hole in my shoulder, and I’ve been shot. Words are muffled and time feels like it’s slowing down again. I don’t want to die. I want to get married to Eddie Diaz. I want to spend the right of my life with him. This isn’t fair. I love him. And I know he loves me. This isn’t fair to him. Or to me. My head lolls back to the side and I feel someone’s hand straighten it back up. It’s Eddie and I can see the tears rolling down his cheeks. It’s cutting through the blood like a knife, making a clear pathway down his face. He’s talking to me and the way that I long to hear what he’s saying is unnatural. Somone is placing an oxygen mask on my face, and everything goes quiet. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I try to look up Eddie one last time. I don’t know if this is it, but I want my last look at the world to be of my world. Eddie Diaz. I don’t know if can sense it or see the change in my eyes, but something shifts in his. Although I can’t hear him. I can somewhat see him. He looks even more panicked, more petrified and I don’t how he manages it. I’m just really tired, and cold. There’s a hole in my shoulder….and I’ve been shot. By the time the truck feels as though it’s coming to a sudden stop, I lose the battle to consciousness and slowly drift off...

[denimbex1986]

'The actor and Baftas host answers your questions about facial hair, Doctor Who, Scrooge McDuck – and growing up as the son of a minister

How do you face the challenge of being this year’s Bafta host? practicalpanic I don’t currently feel particularly challenged because everything’s written down for me and I don’t have to worry about winning – or not winning – an award. If it was the first night of a play, I’d be curled up in a corner in the foetal position. But the fact that it’s not my day job certainly feels liberating. Who knows why they asked me; I must have been pretty far down the list. Expectations are pretty much zero. I don’t have anything to prove. Will I be phoning [previous Bafa hosts] Jonathan Ross and Stephen Fry for advice? I might do. But I’m travelling in blissful ignorance at the moment.

What’s your sideburn policy? They appear to be sized in direct proportion to your characters’ confidence. DrHugbine That’s a very interesting observation, which I don’t think has any truth behind it, but it’s making me wonder …

Here are some examples … Fright Night’s Peter Vincent – long and bushy, confident vampire killer. The Doctor in Doctor Who – long and pointy, charismatic and charming. Broadchurch’s DI Alec Hardy – beard, no sideburns, introverted and suspicious. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’s Barty Crouch Jr – no beard, no sideburns, complex and a traitor. Good Omens’ Anthony Crowley – ginger, no sideburns, stylish but tempted Eve in the garden of Eden as a snake so a bit of a bad egg generally. TopTramp I don’t think you’re going to write a doctoral thesis based on that evidence. It’s very thin evidence, at most. I grew sideburns for Doctor Who because, back then, I was worried I was a bit young for it and I thought they slightly aged me. Which, of course, I then had to recreate recently when I’m almost certainly too old for it. I guess increasingly I am unshaven, in which case you don’t really have to worry about sideburns because they’re part of something else. Whatever length my sideburns are on the night of the Baftas has no reflection on how I’m treating the Baftas.

As a vicar with young kids, I wondered what influence being a son of the manse has had upon your work? RevdAl It’s hard to know, because you only know the influences you had specifically from your parents because they’re your parents – it’s hard to unpick. It certainly wasn’t a childhood filled with religious dogma or any kind of restrictions. It was more a moral guidebook.

What was it like kissing Michael Sheen [in season two of Good Omens]? And who enjoyed it more? carnies18 Who enjoyed it the most? Presumably Michael was thrilled. How could he not be? But it was another day at work. The most difficult bit was other people’s awkwardness. We thought it was quite fun, so it was fine. He’d brushed his teeth.

Would you accept a knighthood just to fuel an excellent argument with Sheen in the next series of Staged? Shirls Because he sent his OBE back? That predisposes the fact that anything that’s talked about in Staged is based on real life. We are in our own houses, acting opposite people we spend our life with. But that’s pretty much the extent of the reality of Staged.

Which is best – playing a detective, a murderer or a murder victim? JonnyMorris1973 Well, one of them solves the crimes. One of them commits the crimes. And the other one has a crime done to them. It probably depends which character the writer is most fond of and therefore the most fun to play. It’s not really in the gift of the actor, so much as in the gift of the scriptwriter. I think I’ve only played one detective, haven’t I? What’s my favourite way I’ve been murdered? Oh my goodness. I was shot in The Last September. I get murdered on stage every night in Macbeth, although that’s a spoiler. I sort of died in Doctor Who when I got shot by a galvanic beam in a radiation chamber that filled my body with more radiation I could cope with.

Am I as geeky as the Doctor who fans? Yes. As a Doctor Who fan myself of old, I can very much can plug into that. I don’t think I ever got in trouble at school. That is one of those stories that’s ended up on Wikipedia. I wrote an essay on Doctor Who, which some unpleasant newspaper found and printed. But I didn’t get in trouble for it. I think I got quite a good mark for it.

Who would win in a fight between Crowley, The Doctor and Scrooge McDuck? AlistairDionysus Probably Scrooge McDuck. He seems to be able to survive just about everything. He’s far more resilient than Crowley or The Doctor, who seem to end up staring destruction in the face. Scrooge McDuck, nothing seems to trouble him.

You have a lovely singing voice! Would you like to do a musical? Beatrice_Tate, gaityr, laibarra622 and Luigii I make a nice curry, but I’m not going to open a restaurant. Would I do the Masked Singer? I love The Masked Singer. Nothing has excited my eight-year-old daughter more than when everyone thought Ricky Wilson from the Kaiser Chiefs was me, week after week. You can imagine how disappointed she was when it turned out I wasn’t.

If you were a cheese, what kind would you be? BrianBraddock I’ve got very into paneer curries. Paneer is neither hard nor soft, so I’ll say that because it makes me sound like I’ve really thought about it.

What’s the last item you snatched from a set? NataliaBCN I’m just going back through things I might have pocketed. Maybe this is the upbringing we talked of earlier. I’m very bad with nicking things. I’m plagued with guilt. The last time they released a new sonic screwdriver toy, someone gave me one but I gave it away because I’m so full of generosity, but now I slightly regret it.

Your portrayal of serial killer Dennis Nilsen [in ITV’s Des] was truly terrifying. How do you prepare for a role like that? YorkshireExPat With someone such as Dennis Nilsen, there is quite a lot of material that’s been written about him. There’s video evidence of him. So you immerse yourself as much you can, then join a line between that and the version of the character that’s in the script, because, ultimately, that’s the version you have to portray. One thing we were very careful to do on Des was to not make it from his point of view. I don’t think you can ask an audience to sympathise or understand someone like Nilsen. It’s the story of how he got away with all these things, then was caught. Hopefully the audience is left thinking: how can someone who is just another member of the human race be committing these extraordinary acts and the rest of us not notice or understand?

If you could regenerate as anyone else for the day, who would you choose? TopTramp My wife, just to see how annoying I really am so I could be properly objective and understand her pain.'

[disasterbuck]

FanFic Ask Game

So I saw this post (linked above) and decided to answer all the questions instead of just reblogging and waiting for asks. Enjoy getting to know a bit more about me as a writer!

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

I love how fluffy it generally is and how my fics always have a happy ending 🥰

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

I don't think I'm embarrassed about my writing? Maybe sometimes I'll write a kiss that feels a bit cringe?

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

'the heist wip'. Inspired by the episode Ocean's 9-1-1, I wanted to explore what situation could make them ACTUALLY turn to crime. I had a vague idea of a woman's dog being kidnapped by her abusive ex, and Buck gets all obsessed over it and eventually asks the rest of the team to help him break the dog out or something. idk. I don't have a solid enough idea and I feel like it would end up being a long fic which I just can't commit to atm. (If anyone reading this is inspired by this idea, feel free to write it!! But please tag me if you do! I would love to read it!)

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

... I don't think so?

Yeah I've just had a skim through and can't find anything that I would never share if I managed to finish it.

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

Ooohhh, I love getting comments on ALL my fics but I guess if I had to choose I'd probably go with Friends Don't (8.5k) because it has a special place in my heart.

✏️ Do you write every day?

Not strictly, but most days yes.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

"Back to my point," Chimney said once Hen's laughter died down. "You two are codependent. I bet you couldn't even go a day without having to touch each other."

Buck's face flushed a darker shade of red.

"Yes we could," Eddie argued, suddenly stubborn and confrontational. "We could go a week."

"You wanna bet, Diaz?" Chimney asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

After a quick glance to communicate with Buck, Eddie nodded and said, "You're on. What are the terms?"

don't say his name wip

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

I wrote 4 drabbles exactly 100 words each!! It took quite a bit of editing and revising but I'm really happy with how they turned out! You can read them here if you're interested: buddie month | four drabbles

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

fhdskjfhs I HOPE NOT 😅

🌙  What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

I don't really have a preferred time of day?

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

Yes. And no. lol

📊 Current number of WIPs

............................ 104 🙈

👨‍👧‍👧 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic? 

Depends ENTIRELY on the person. But generally yes. This does not equal letting them read my fics though lol.

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

Hm, good question. Maybe Athena?

📝 What is one growth area you have for your writing?

Uhhh I don't know. I feel like I'm constantly learning about writing and just generally trying to improve in all areas.

📚 Do you read your own fic?

YES ALL THE TIME. I looooove reading over my fics. Makes me so happy!!

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

Writing kisses. Or endings. Both. Every time Buddie are about to kiss I tend to abandon the fic for a while lmaoooo and then whenever I have to wrap it up it takes me 3-5 business days.

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

Up for anything. All I've got for it so far is this:

Buck: No, I mean it. I'm up for anything. If you can come up with something I won't do you win. But I'm telling you right now I never back down from a dare.

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

fhjskfh I hate research. My deepest dive is whatever happens in the show. I'll rewatch or maybe read wikis to make sure I get show details accurate but anything else? I'm making that shit up bestie 😅

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

🙈 sweet, emotional, aaaaaand heartwarming? idk

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

I don't have headcanons about my own work! Everything is canon! They're my works! My reality! YOU can have headcanons about my works lol.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

Of my own or someone elses?

Of my own fics, I love you (4k) is my fave.

Someone else's, the first that comes to mind is The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) (43k) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels uggghhh it is chef's kiss!! Fake dating my beloved! 💕

👩‍🏭 If one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

Lazy Mornings (1k) for being so freaking adorable 🥰

⏰ Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

I think it's fairly equal? But maybe a bit more time writing, because a lot of the reading I do is of physical books rather than fic.

-

taglist because there's a sneaky snippet hidden above:

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @smolfunpenguin

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @sunflower-eddiediaz

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

@smilingbuckley @realpersonwithrealfeelings @superlock-in-the-tardis @mjthe14thdoctor @strxwbereee

@idontknowwhatimdoing777 @ashleigh2658 @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @mineyneedsmoney

@spotsandsocks @unlifeira @pirrusstuff @buddiedaydreamer911

@littlevampireprincessuniverse @misshiss727 @i-put-the-star-in-bastard @hermioneindisguise @dangerpronebuddie

@specialbrownieeater @blue-winged-boy @bucks-daddy-issues @lightningmcqueer8

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

p.s. I'm updating my taglist, check out the info on this post

[hanafubukki]

So Hana; I came across a post talking about unpopular twst opinions and was wondering if you had any.

Hello Violet 🌸💚🌷

I hope it’s okay for me to call you Violet 💚🌷

This is a rather interesting question 🤔 and I had to think on it a bit. I honestly don’t know if some of what I say is unpopular or not, so I guess I’ll express a few of my opinions that I have. ☺️🌺

I guess before I list them I should say that this is my opinion only. I don’t mean to hurt anyone by expressing them nor am I calling out anyone. Literally just my thoughts. You’re allowed to agree or disagree✨✨

Normally, I would assume I wouldn’t have to put a disclaimer such as this because everyone has their own opinions and we should all have an open mind but I’ve seen the internet lol and wowza on how some act to such things lol 🌺🙏

I hate the guest room. Personally, I’m not into that kind of mechanics in gaming. It’s not for me. The fact that we have to do it to level up friendship levels irks me. And it’s a complicated system too which is another annoying aspect. I also kind of blame the guest room function for personal stories being lowered since those have been replaced with furniture. It’s just an extra chore that I’m not really into.

Event wise: I think we have too many octa (+ ortho and ace) in them. My diasomnia bias aside, I don’t think the other characters get enough spotlight. When was the last time Ruggie was in an event? Cater? Riddle? Jack? Kalim? Rook? Deuce? I know octa make them money but still, give the others more spotlight? I don’t count the beach or Halloween event either. Because Halloween, half the cast is in it and beach event was similar. Even New years I don’t count, because eventually, we will get them all in new years outfit. The usually four character events is what I’m speaking of because that’s when you get proper screen time and development for each character. I can literally go on lolol

I don’t know why this would be unpopular but it seems it might be? But I don’t hate RSA. They have a lot of potential story telling wise and their side of things. And I know there’s biasness with NRC and we wanting them to win, but I feel there’s more to RSA than we know. Like how we shouldn’t judge villains, we shouldn’t judge the “heroes” either.

Jp schedule wise I don’t think they are too slow as many believe. I think for the working female class, which the game is aimed at, the scheduling is perfect since it was made for them after all. It gives them time for daily life and twst gaming. Doesn’t mean I don’t get impatient either lolol

On the other spectrum, EN is going too quick. With events and main story. Slow down. What are you trying to accomplish except burn out your fanbase?

I don’t want an anime. We will get one. There’s a high chance and I’ll watch it obviously. But I honestly don’t care for one. The issues that an anime will bring…is a lot.

I don’t think the gameplay is boring. As mentioned before, the game was made for the female working class. So the gameplay is to the point, and depending on the event, can be challenging. But grinding wise and all that? It’s pretty working class friendly. If I didn’t have the auto lessons and battles, I wouldn’t be playing it. It’s because of those mechanics that I am. Thats what stops me from playing many mobile games. The constant forced to play and keep track. Hence part of why I’m not into Hoyoverse games.

I don’t really care for “this place in twst = this place in IRL.” to me, it’s a game in a fantasy world. Is it interesting to see some of the influences? Yes, of course. But that’s it. I’m playing this game for the fantasy setting, the magic, the story, and the characters. I don’t really care to add, realism, I guess you could say? (I’m trying to escape reality okay? Why would I want it in my games?? 🤣🤣)

I wish we had more magic in my magic world. And I think it mainly applies for book 7 for me personally and how “wow, tech is going to beat malleus and save the day” but I kind of wish that isn’t the case. Yes, it makes for fun story telling and memes. But, for a magic based dorm, I want a magic based solution. That and the fact, I don’t care for the implication how magic is slowly being taken over by technology. Kind of hits close to home you know?? With all the AI shenanigans.

I hope two certain popular theories aren’t true and I’ll leave it there. My personally thoughts on them is, I hope it’s not that predictable and I had hoped for a different route for such characters/events.

I’ll stop there before I make a whole essay for you to read lmao 🤣🤣 I have more thoughts that I could share but this is already so long 😆

I don’t know if this was a “unpopular opinion” or more me rambling but I’ll let you decide that Violet 🙏💞☺️

What about you? What are some of your thoughts?

Would love to hear other’s opinions as well ☺️🌺

[hacked-by-jake]

I didn't finish the first episode yet, but I saw a lot of people saying that the ending was amazing and worth the pain. I was disappointed in the game, but the way all people boycott Everbyte without even finishing the episode is ridiculous to me.

I understand the anger about AI art, the emptiness of the characters, and ESPECIALLY the pay to win concept. Just because it has a good ending doesn't make up to the negative parts. But people should have first finished the episode and only then give their opinion. It wasn't fair. Yes, we are all disappointed. I also get the conspiracy theory about Everbyte having an investor or someone else taking over the design and completely messing it up. It's still no excuse to shit on the work of Everbyte like that.

People played the episode for about 15 minutes and immediately hated on Everbyte and I was one of them and am a little ashamed. It was a smart move of Everbyte to mix the main game with the side story, but I also get the people who are upset by it. We waited 2 years for answers and now we have to pay diamonds and money to get the full experience. I fully get it, yes. The criticism is completely fine but hate to the point that they insult the developes? No, just no. I can't wait to find out about the end of the episode. Until then, I wish you a good day. 🩵 Thank you for your work.

Greetings, an old friend ♡

Well, I absolutely get what you mean and I also understand why you think so.

But I have to say, I don’t think finishing the episode before wasn't necessary to see the problems and to point it out.

Many people had problems right after starting the game. It started with bugs. Of course we all had to look around before we started playing. And I guess many people immediately went to check the profile customisation options etc. Then we were greeted with AI art only. We directly saw the pictures aren't even free and most of us, or all thought we're allowed to put our own pictures as profile picture etc. Which was another disappointment right away.

Then we had to realise that we cannot pick a specific picture and buy it but only randomly.

Just a bunch of disappointments from the beginning and it didn’t get better. I mean, I saw so many people who said they gave up to play because of bugs and the mini games and stuff.

So actually, I think it's very understandable that some started to show their disappointment right away.

Of course, I only talk about critism. Not hate. There's a difference. And I said a lot of times by now that hate is absolutely disgusting.

Luckily, on Tumblr I almost saw no one really hating on Everbyte. I don’t know how hate looks to you and when it was already hate in your eyes. I think we don’t know exactly what we others meant and saw. So it's hart to give my opinion on that.

It's simply hard to say much when I don't know what exactly you saw or said or mean. Hating can look differently and I think even harsher words don’t have to be hate right away, it always depends on the context.

However, I find it very strong of you to admit that you were involved. And your words show that you have empathy with Everbyte and reflected your behavior. This is a good thing to be proud of.

I think we all might have made a mistake or two in the situation, Everbyte, but also the community. But hey, I just have to say: These games that Everbyte has created are visibly attached to our hearts and thus evoke stronger emotions. Which actually only shows how much we like the games and especially want to play them.

It’s just problematic that there were so many people at once, but that’s not our fault. We can’t just be quiet just because others have already mentioned it, it just doesn’t work that way. And unfortunately, in this situation Everbyte received criticism with the side effect that many more people follow them. So it is clear that the outcry is much bigger and louder.

Everbyte deserved the criticism. And the normal critism was much more silent than the hate. Because unfortunately it is always the case that the hate is much more noticeable than the normal critics. Hate is much louder and that’s why we remember it longer.

The whole situation was just overwhelming and we were all just full of emotions. This can get stronger and stronger, and sometimes it can make us say things we regret later.

Pure hate is a completely different story. Especially when the hate was deliberately pronounced just like that because people don’t care that we still talk about real human beings.

But I think we can all forgive ourselves for saying something in a very tense and emotional situation that might have been a bit brisk. It happened and we can't change it. The situation was too much for many of us, and it’s part of being a human being to do or say sometimes rash things without think a lot beforehand.

So I think we should not be mad at ourselves for it. (Unless you spread real hate and pure hate by insulting Everbyte personally or anything)

I would like to thank you for sharing your thoughts and especially for mentioning positive things at the end. And I hope you are doing better now and all thoughts can be classified and understood more calmly.

I wish you a wonderful day/evening/night. 💚

Lots of love to you, old friend. 💚

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

could i request a Poppy x gn!reader who frequently dyes their hair?? :0

A/N: I love Poppy and all the homesick characters, but as someone who also frequently dyes their hair, I LOVED THISSS :) So I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: None!!

Navigation!!

The apocalypse wasn’t supposed to be colorful. Gray skies, gray ruins, gray corpses. Everything was muted and dull—except for you. You were like a walking neon sign with your ever-changing hair colors, a little slice of chaos in a world already bursting at the seams with it.

Today, it was teal. Bright, eye-catching teal, which Poppy immediately pointed out when he saw you picking through the shelves of an old thrift store.

“Is that a survival tactic?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, his red hair catching the dim light like a warning flare. “The monsters won’t eat you if you’re too bright to look at?”

You didn’t even flinch, though your hand tightened around the knife in your jacket pocket. “Bold of you to assume I don’t just blind them with my charm.”

He chuckled, a low sound that somehow didn’t match the grim, intimidating aura he carried. “Good luck with that.”

You stared at him, debating if he was going to be trouble. His reputation preceded him—half hero, half menace, depending on who you asked—but for some reason, his calm demeanor didn’t set off any immediate alarms.

“And you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s your survival tactic? Intimidation? Or is that hair color supposed to make people underestimate you?”

Poppy smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

It wasn’t like you planned to team up with him. It just sort of…happened. One minute you were scavenging alone, the next he was tagging along, pointing out hidden dangers and laughing at your terrible jokes like you’d been partners for years.

At first, it was awkward. He didn’t talk much, and when he did, he had this unnerving habit of watching you too closely, like he was sizing you up. But over time, his sharp edges started to soften. He didn’t smile often, but when he did, it felt like catching sunlight through a break in the clouds.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he said one day as the two of you sat on a rooftop, overlooking the decaying city. “Most people try to blend in, keep their heads down. But you? You’re out here with a bullseye on your head.”

You shrugged, twirling a strand of your freshly dyed purple hair between your fingers. “Why not? If the world’s gonna end, I’d rather go out looking fabulous.”

Poppy snorted, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.” But there was a hint of a smile on his lips, and for some reason, that felt like a win.

One day, while rifling through the remnants of an old convenience store, Poppy found something that made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he called, holding up a dusty box. “Thought this might interest you.”

It was a box of hair dye. Half of it was expired, but some of the bottles looked salvageable.

You blinked at him, stunned. “Did you…did you grab that for me?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Figured you’d want it. You seem the type to get cranky if your hair looks boring.”

You laughed, trying to ignore the way your chest felt warm. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Later, as you sat cross-legged in front of a cracked mirror, applying a new shade of deep crimson to your hair, Poppy leaned against the wall, watching you with an expression that was almost amused.

“You know,” he said, “it’s kind of nice.”

“What is?” you asked, carefully parting your hair to make sure you didn’t miss a spot.

He gestured vaguely at your head. “The color. The effort. It’s like…a little reminder that not everything has to be gray and awful.”

You paused, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone.

“I mean,” he continued, scratching the back of his neck, “it’s dumb, but…I guess it’s kind of nice to have something good to look at for a change.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly turned back to the mirror, hoping he didn’t notice. “Wow, Poppy, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, but there was a softness in his voice that made you think he meant every word.

Over time, your partnership stopped feeling like survival and started feeling like…something else. Poppy had this way of making the apocalypse feel almost bearable, like it wasn’t all doom and gloom. He teased you about your hair but always seemed to notice when you changed it. He rolled his eyes at your terrible puns but never told you to stop. And when you got too quiet, too lost in your own thoughts, he was there with a snarky comment or a rare, genuine compliment to pull you back.

One night, as the two of you sat by a campfire, you asked him why he stuck around.

“Because I’d miss the entertainment,” he said with a smirk, but there was something in his eyes that told you there was more to it than that.

“You’re full of it,” you said, throwing a twig at him.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his smirk softening into something almost vulnerable. “But I’m not lying when I say you’re the best thing I’ve found in this mess.”

For once, you didn’t have a snappy comeback. You just stared at him, feeling that warm, fluttery feeling in your chest again.

And in that moment, the world didn’t feel so gray.

[bipolar-sad-and-ready-to-cry]

I require oc lore

Any oc

Any fandom or original world

Pretty please? :3 👉👈?

Oc lore you say???? My friend you have no clue what monster you have awoken! I’ll start with my tsams/fnaf ocs and then I’ll do my other ocs from a few original stories I have in my head (too many original stories help)

Rocket is ,as I’ve explained before, a run away from his own dimension, he gets damaged by others touching him due to his Eclipse using the star to try and isolate him from others, so Rocket is very touch starved. Rocket has the mental age of a child and really just wants to be a normal kid. Also Rocket isn’t completely defenceless/weak, even though he wants to hide it, his tail not only is the only part of his body that won’t crumble under any touch but the tip of the tail is very sharp and dangerous, not as dangerous as his Eclipse’s tail which has venom but still very dangerous. If you want to hug Rocket, swaddle him, it fools what ever his Eclipse did to him into thinking it’s just an object.

Nova! My adorable mute Nova! They used to be a she/her but changed into a they/them or he/him (depends on the day), they still love to embrace their feminine side only because they have no concept of gendered clothes, it’s only clothes to them! They have 3 older brothers and a cousin who all adore them (even though in the beginning their brothers and cousin were annoyed by them), they often hang out with the youngest of their brothers, Plazoo, even though he tries to teach them how to win in poker. Nova has been through a lot of trauma but refuses to let that keep a hold of them! It took ages for them to get over trauma, sometimes I hope to refuse to let my own trauma get the best of me like Nova has.

Now these are my original world ocs, I’ll put art with them so you know what they look like

Stevan! I made him back in high school but he only really started to develop when I became an adult, he was my hyper fixation for a good few years so be ready for lore galore! Stevan is an alien from a planet called Unver, he is pescatarian (meaning only animals he eats are egg and fish) but it’s not by choice, something is very wrong in his tummy but he can not afford to find out what is wrong because he has no money! He is homeless and has been since he was four when he was abandoned by an orphanage in the forest, even though his friends offer to let him live with them he just feels bad taking advantage of their kindness. He of course has a whole host of mental problems including DID (tried my best to research it). He is also a chimera, which means he absorbed his twin but don’t worry his dead twin lives in his head! His alters also out of some bizarre mutation to do with his family and all that has powers! Stevan cannot reliably control any of their powers unless the alter is next to him in the mind scape! That all I’ll do for Stevan, we need to give the others some attention hehe.

———

BB! My beloved BB! A very mentally unstable gooey boy! He also lives on Unver just very very far away from Stevan, he has I guess assisted living? Meaning he gets to survive and live on his own but he has people who come in to help him with certain activities like remembering to take his meds. He may or may not have bipolar and often hallucinations.

That’s all I’ll do for now! If you want to know more just ask and I’ll go digging through my pictures for them

[feralgodmothers]

Ghost Austin. Vampire Austin. Werewolf Austin. Which do you prefer?

I wasn’t sure if this was meant like… which would I rather see as a work of fiction (like fanfic or a movie), or if it was meant as: in an alternate rl scenario, which one would I want as my boyfriend? So I’m gonna answer it both ways! 😄

First up - boyfriend selection.

(I think ghost Austin would be too sad, so I’m gonna take him out of the equation for this part 🥺)

I think with werewolf Austin, your romance is more likely to be a tragic and doomed one, because generally with werewolf stories - they don’t make it out alive in the end. The village mob pretty much always wins, so your relationship would only last a few months, if you’re lucky.

With vampire Austin… honestly, the thought of drinking blood is kinda gross, and living an immortal life in this world would be pretty rough. Though naturally, having Austin alongside you would make things infinitely better… but even then - there’s still the possibility that someone or something might kill him eventually, and you’d have to deal with the same ‘life goes on’ heartbreak as the werewolf option, only in this instance there’s MORE of it, because it’s FOREVER (assuming he turned you, and you didn’t choose suicide).

So, either a romance you know is doomed to be short-lived and temporary, where you desperately enjoy all that you can while you can… or a romance that by all intents and purposes should be eternal, but has the slight chance of blind sighting you by stealing away your forever at any time? (I guess that’s just the nature of monster loving. 💔😔)

Those are just the downsides though. For the upsides, we have the age-old question (which I think is the true heart of the vampire vs. werewolf debate): do I prefer sensual or primal? 😏

There’s no denying that the werewolf trope is KINKY. You get the bondage kink:

The raw, animalistic nature (which vampires have a bit of too, but it’s definitely more front-and-center with werewolves), so you get more of the rough and feral, down-in-the-dirt kind of loving

And on top of it all, you get the grueling and arduous task of having to hunt down a naked Austin in the woods. HOW WOULD I EVER COPE???

*me walking through the woods holding out a raw steak like ‘Herrreee boyfriend boyfriend… sustenance and sexytimes!’*

Now, I feel like vampire Austin would be the closest to the Austin we all know and love (if we’re thinking along the lines of Anne Rice’s vampires, that is) - reflective and musing, with a strong undercurrent of passion, drive, and intensity.

You’d also get the sophisticated and debonair side of things, which we’ve seen from him quite a bit:

And to compare the vampire sex with the werewolf sex - I think the vampire sex would have a rawness to it as well, but it would be more absorbing and drawn out, like… deeply and sensually exploring the limits of your mind, body, and soul together.

So.. for the rl boyfriend, I think I might choose vampire Austin.

For a fictional story to enjoy…

Ghost Austin could be beautifully tender and heartbreaking, which could easily hold a special place in my heart, and the other two have the upsides I’ve already mentioned above… so ultimately, I think it would depend on the day you ask. Today, I think I’d choose werewolf Austin.

[spinningbuster98]

Castlevania II Simon's Quest Ending: Schrodinger's Simon

It’s time for the final mansion!

We have another boss: Carmilla!

Yeah sorry for any fans of the show but in her original appearance she was just a floating demonic mask that was pitifully easy to beat.

Look at the bright side: at least you don’t have to hear her voice and can just straight up ignore her....at least the second time around since by beating her she drops the Magic Cross which is needed to open the path to the ruins of Dracula’s Castle for some reason

Want me to give this game some credit? The treck to the castle’s ruins is really atmospheric!

Even just the town you pass through right before looks wrong: it’s completely devoid of color and there’s nobody there. The game never states this but the implication seems to be that, being the closest town to Dracula’s Castle, all the inhabitants were killed tha last time the Count was resurrected and it’s now a ghost town.

The actual walk through the ruins of the castle, with that creepy music playing and the fact that you have to break several tiles to get to the basement and there’s not a single soul as you’re descending...it’s truly great stuff, ESPECIALLY for an NES game! I have to applaud Simon’s Quest for this moment!

What supposedly happens in the end is that the parts of Dracula’s Body that you’ve been collecting all unite with a 6th one that was resting on that altar (couldn’t they at least have shown a sixth piece floating from that altar? I would never have guessed about its existence had I not read about it online and used to think that SOTN and HoD featuring 6 pieces was a retcon) and....not necessarily revive Dracula, what we fight is apparently supposed to be his ghost or something? Anyway you torch his ass with fire before he even has a chance to look around and bam you win!

The ending...or endings are their own can of worms...

Castlevania II features 3 endings that you can get depending on how many in-game days it takes you to complete the game, with I guess the idea being that the longer you take the less likely Simon is to survive his cursed injuries from the first game

Here’s the issue:

the endings seem completely jumbled to me

The “best” ending has Dracula’s hand jutting out of his grave

The “average” ending (which I got) has Simon die

The “bad” ending has the narration tell us that stuff in Transylvania will be happy go lucky...while also implying that Simon died and the entire screen is all a depressing grey

What the hell is up with these endings? It feels like the best ending should be the worst given that Dracula is shown to have survived and the other two are barely any different!

And the crazy thing is that to this day we don’t know which of these are canon!

I don’t think the best ending is the canon one since we’re shown that Dracula had survived which no game will follow up on and in fact this game’s direct sequel Harmony of Dissonance will flat out state that this was Dracula’s last fight against Simon, but no one, at least to my knowledge, has ever treated this as Simon’s canonical death either. Hell as much of a canon purist as Iga could be I’m surprised he never gave a definitive answer to this quandry!

[just-liaa-01]

Are media representations of fans as ‘weird’ and ‘overly emotional’ fair? What is your own experience of fandom?

Yow people! Im back with a new topic again! Are you guys excited, please be excited. Don’t make me the only person excited to talk about this. So my chingu we are back with topic on FANDOM. Yeayy!!

Its regarding FANDOM gosh I’m so excited! I love this topic so much as I am a part of the kpop fandom community. Yohooo! This time, I'm exposing myself since, well, why not? Most of you are aware of what fandom is, I assume. But I guess some might still not know what that is, so I’ll explain it briefly later to you guys. Talking about fandom. Which fandom are you in? Mine is a Kpop Boy group named Seventeen.

So, lets begin with what is fandom?

Ayoo how to explain it briefly ahh? This might be a bit long but trust me you’ll understand what fandom is by the end of this blog post. If you are still confused please do some research or come to me ill help you or I might also bring you to the world of kpop hehe.

Strictly, for those who live under a rock or are just uninterested in things like this. If you guys feels like I’m judging you guys now. Well yes, I am. Hahahaha don’t be too serious. Fandom is a group of people who support groups or individuals regardless of the genre. Unbeknownst to you, everyone is a fan of something whether it’s a sport, music or movie. The word FANDOM is a community which is complex and diverse. Everyone has different preferences, dislikes, and perspectives. In addition to many other wonderful qualities, we are diverse in terms of gender identity, sexual orientation, and color. We come from a wide range of nations and civilizations as well.

Even though my interests might not be of interest to you, I'll still tell you. Like I care hehe.

As I was growing up, I was exposed to a wide range of experiences. From being addicted to video games, to music, and also martial arts sports. However, music is the one that has stuck with me the most after martial arts sport. I start discovering the Korean music industry Kpop when I was in primary school at the age of 11 years old. I started with watching a Korean Drama To The Beautiful You released in 2012. That was the beginning of Amalia’s journey in the K-Drama, K-pop world. Language is not a barrier to ones interest. I’m proud to say that I have watch probably hundreds of K-Dramas and hundreds of K-pop songs too till todays age. But this one particular boy group that catch my attention by their song is Seventeen. I've been hooked by their upbeat songs and beats, entertaining choreography, and overall vibe up till now. I adore them so much as how they keep training from zero to winning a Daesang Award yesterday at the Mnet Asian Music Awards. They also teach me that giving up is not an option. You have to keep trying as a failure is a beginning of a success. I could spend all day talking about them. I've poured countless hours and dollars into my favorite bands and products. I don't regret it, though.

But often why does the media often portray fans as ‘protective’ and ‘obsessive’?

No matter what you're a fan of, society and the media will always interpret you in the way that they want. It truly depends on you, though, therefore it doesn't rule out the chance that some fans will be regarded as such.

The question is, do I consider myself as one of those? Probably no, I do love my boys so much but not to an extend where I would be so obsessed and be overprotective. Since fans come from a variety of nations and backgrounds, it is to be expected that some would behave differently than you would prefer. chasing them, intimidating them at airports, and ultimately turning into "sasaengs." "Sasaengs" are devoted followers who stalk or act in ways that violate someone's privacy.

Fan sign events are supposed to be happy occasions where fans can interact with their idols. Unfortunately this isn’t always the case During the Seventeen Fan signing event. Reported that a sasaeng fan got angry at Joshua, a member of the group. She started trowing objects at him making everyone present there in shock. Her actions brought the entire event to a halt, and a manager had to walk the fan out of the stadium and immediately escort her away from the the Seventeen group members. (Koreaboo, 2018).

Of course, the industry has seen a lot of other incidents, but this is one of the most well-known from the recent past in this group history. This has demonstrated the terrible potential of obsessed fans.

According to a news report by Soompi, Woozi said: “We prepared this song because we wanted to express our gratitude to the fans.” (Omar, 2018).

A true fan is someone who respects their idols space and privacy while still supporting them. That concludes my analysis of this week's topic. Remember, you could be a fan of anything but be a respectful and responsible one. See you next time chingu!

References:

Koreaboo. (2018). Koreaboo. https://www.koreaboo.com/lists/13-disturbing-stories-sasaeng-fans-went-far-1/ ‌

Omar, A. (2018). (Showbiz) SEVENTEEN boys give Thanks and share quirky stories. [online] NST Online. https://www.nst.com.my/lifestyle/groove/2018/02/333737/showbiz-seventeen-boys-give-thanks-and-share-quirky-stories

[diedeilv]

I do have a specific blog to rant to. I have a few blogs. But I also have a close friend that I rant to if I'm desperate for company. It's 50/50, it depends on my mood which one I'd go to. Mmh, I hope you accept my advice if I ever deem it appropriate to give it..? I like helping people

Yeah, exactly! You can ask me specific questions and I'll answer though.

I agree on that! We can fight (yes literally too) and I bet my life that I'd win. I'm preettyyyy sure I would..

I didn't do it on purpose. My cologne has a slight citrus scent. It balances it so well, I love it so much.

I’d accept your advice of course if I did go to you, I really do enjoy comforting and helping people too. If you’d ever rant to me I’ll write entire paragraphs to comfort you. Makes me feel happy if I actually did help someone and made them feel better

I guess it’s also dependent on the problem if I actually do talk to someone. If I need advice or comfort I’m probably going to someone close especially if it’s personal. Feels weird if I start ranting about my actual personal drama on my blog.

How about some simple question then like what are your hobbies? Favorite color and why? Favorite animal? I did want to ask you but I ended up forgetting but just so I can have an idea, how long did you know this blog?

OH BET YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO FIGHT LITERALLY?? CMERE! I don’t tend to reveal that part of myself that I actually do like fighting people literally this quickly but hey this feels way more freeing and fun. I do have a few stories of actually fighting people if you want me to share them. Hmm?? So confident in yourself aren’t you? I’m not going to let you win that easily yknow? Not going down until I’m completely ruined and bruised.

Hope you enjoy your day/night dear citrus!

[starseedfxofficial]

Euro vs. New Zealand Dollar: Unearthing Hidden Forex Gems with the Business Confidence Index In the chaotic yet fascinating world of Forex, the euro (EUR) and the New Zealand dollar (NZD) form a quirky, less-traveled currency pair. Much like a hidden beach you stumble upon when you take that unplanned right turn, this pair is full of unexpected delights—and pitfalls. Today, we’re diving deep into a game-changing metric: the Business Confidence Index (BCI). Spoiler alert—understanding this underdog indicator might just change your trading game forever. "Business Confidence? Nah, I Need Price Action!" I hear you, but wait a moment. Imagine if you could see the mood of a country—the spirit, the vibe—all summed up in one number. That’s essentially what the Business Confidence Index is. It reflects how businesses feel about the economy’s future. Are they confident or are they nervous? This number becomes a tiny, powerful flashlight illuminating the dark corners of economic trends. You don’t need to be a macroeconomics genius to use it—you just need to know how to use this flashlight to avoid stepping in financial quicksand. The BCI and the EUR/NZD Dance Let’s start by breaking down how the Business Confidence Index for both the Eurozone and New Zealand influences the EUR/NZD currency pair. Why should you care? Well, if you like avoiding the kind of losses that feel like buying an overpriced umbrella on a sunny day—only for it to break at the first gust of wind—then you’ll love this part. When businesses feel good, they invest more, expand operations, and hire people. In a nutshell, a strong BCI usually indicates a growing economy, which means the central bank could lean towards tightening monetary policy (think: raising interest rates). And guess what? When interest rates rise, currencies usually follow. So, if the BCI in New Zealand jumps while the Eurozone's struggles, you might just witness the NZD dancing circles around the EUR. Pro Tip: Keep a close eye on comparative business confidence releases. It’s not just about whether it went up or down, but rather who’s winning the confidence contest at any given time. "But Here's Where the Real Magic Happens..." This is where we start getting into the sneaky details that most traders don’t even bother with. Everyone's glued to unemployment rates or GDP growth, but those are lagging indicators. The Business Confidence Index, on the other hand, is forward-looking. Imagine you’re driving a car—lagging indicators are like looking at the rear-view mirror, while the BCI is the windshield that shows what’s coming up ahead. The Contrarian Twist Ever heard of a contrarian trader? No, it’s not someone who just loves to disagree with everyone. It’s someone who bets against the masses at the perfect time. One smart contrarian move is to watch the BCI when it’s been overly optimistic for a long time. Why? Because extreme sentiment—positive or negative—often signals a reversal. If businesses in New Zealand are partying like it’s 1999, and the NZD is flying, it might be time to prepare for a surprise. Timing Trades with BCI Releases Now, let’s talk timing. The BCI is released monthly or quarterly, depending on the country. The smart move? Look for divergence between the Eurozone and New Zealand BCIs. If Eurozone businesses are suddenly feeling chipper while New Zealand's confidence wanes, there’s an opportunity brewing. For example, let’s say the Eurozone reports a surprise rise in business confidence, while New Zealand's BCI falls short. Such scenarios could indicate a potential EUR/NZD rally. It’s like watching two competitors in a tug-of-war—if one gets weaker, the rope inevitably starts moving in favor of the other. The Forgotten Strategy: Correlation with Commodities Here’s a nugget that few traders seem to grasp. The NZD is often considered a commodity currency, influenced by agricultural exports and dairy prices in particular. Remember that one annoying fact your friend always brings up about how "New Zealand has more sheep than people?" Well, they weren’t kidding, and those sheep translate into a lot of economic weight! The Business Confidence Index indirectly reflects how these industries perceive the future. If confidence is dropping, that might mean trouble for New Zealand’s dairy market, which could weaken the NZD. And here’s the kicker: this happens before actual commodity prices react. So, while everyone else is chasing dairy prices after they’ve tanked, you’re already ahead of the game, comfortably riding the EUR/NZD wave. How to Set Up Your Trades with the BCI Insights Let’s talk practicality—because all this analysis is just talk if it doesn’t put dollars in your account. - Compare the BCIs: Look at the release schedules for both the Eurozone and New Zealand. Compare which country’s businesses are feeling more optimistic. An easy cheat? Use economic calendars like the one offered on StarseedFX's Forex News Today for real-time updates. - Price Action Confirmation: Don’t just blindly trade based on confidence—use it to validate a price action setup. For instance, if the NZD BCI drops and you see a bearish engulfing pattern on the EUR/NZD daily chart, you’ve got the stars aligned for a strong trade. - Plan Your Trade, Trade Your Plan: If there’s one takeaway here, it’s this—have a structured plan. You can get a free trading plan to help outline your risk management strategy and track your progress. Ninja Tactics One ninja tactic that’s been around forever but seems to have been forgotten: use the spread difference between the Eurozone and New Zealand government bond yields to confirm what the BCI suggests. Rising spreads in favor of the Eurozone alongside an improving BCI? Time to think EUR/NZD long. Don’t forget, though, that risk management is key here. No strategy, regardless of how iron-clad it seems, is foolproof. Before diving in, make sure you’re utilizing tools like the smart trading tool for automated calculations and efficient order management. Final Words: How You Can Be the One Laughing All the Way to the Bank By understanding and incorporating the Business Confidence Index into your EUR/NZD trading, you position yourself miles ahead of the average trader. This pair isn’t about flashy, obvious moves—it’s like jazz; subtle, sophisticated, and all about timing. And speaking of timing—next time you trade EUR/NZD, watch those BCI reports like you’d watch the timer on an oven. The perfect dish—or in this case, the perfect trade—is all about getting the timing just right. Don’t be the trader who leaves their trade in the market oven until it’s overcooked and burnt to a crisp. Take the insights we discussed today, and go make some magic happen. And hey, if you’ve got questions or just want to share your own EUR/NZD trading stories, feel free to drop them in the comments below—we’re all in this market jungle together. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[punkscowardschampions]

Mafi First Convo

Fi: Official welcome committee duties dictate I send this, but be aware I would anyway

Mattie: Oh my, well, officially and unofficially, thank you!

Mattie: Tiresome as the committee sounds for you, I can assure you it is appreciated by me and I hope that helps somewhat 😊

Fi: with me at it’s head, absolutely not 😉 rest assured everyone is 🥳 myself included

Mattie: It is truly admirable you have any 🥳 left in you for first day back

Mattie: though perhaps I shouldn’t make too much of a thing about it, as a teacher who is thrilled to be here and so should ALL pupils, of course 😏

Fi: thrilled as I am to be admired, I’m also raring to go with this term in or out of the new teacher’s inbox 

Mattie: Ah yes, of course, just this year to go

Mattie: I remember that euphoria well

Fi: you can call it just yesterday without the horror of nobody around you keeping a remotely straight face, so few other staff members are getting away with such a thing

Mattie: Oh Lord, is there anything more 👩‍🦳 than how wistful I sounded there ?!!

Fi: No, don’t worry, it’s the ‘when I was your age’ sized baggage [her mother’s name, whether that’s mrs whatever or her actual, depending what the students call her because say you’ve got mummy issues without saying you’ve got mummy issues lol] is helping me carry into said school year, she should be feeling her age and I, apparently, should be acting it, in spite of mine not being [however old her mum is]

Mattie: I was… shall we say forewarned, that I had [likewise however we’re rolling which I imagine is Mrs surname because not claiming to know your mother any better than that yet]’s daughter in my form

Fi: 😆 I love when my reputation correctly precedes me, I’ve worked hard to cultivate it from age 11, what a waste if you heard wrong

Mattie: If anyone should know you, it would be your mother 😅

Fi: imagine if she was privy to the top-notch school goss! But we’ve gotta keep the 🍇 vine withered and dead or I can kiss goodbye to Head Girl 🤫🔒

Mattie: I’m certain it’s a case of what a mother/teacher doesn’t know, can’t hurt her, yes?

Fi: maybe but /teacher feels cruel in present company

Mattie: As you pointed out, it hasn’t been that many years for me, I know how these things work and I’d not ask you to deviate on my behalf, Head Girl or otherwise

Fi: you know how to play the game

Fi: you’ll fit in amazingly

Mattie: I hope I won’t be offending if I take that as a compliment and it was intended as a dig? My ego doesn’t feel entirely 🏹 but I’m sure those older teachers may see me as green

Mattie: but, speaking of fitting in, you can recall the new girl from form time in 5th form, Dolly?

Fi: I take archery too seriously to pick such an easy 🎯

Fi: would be what I would say, if I was making an intentional dig, miss

Fi: And yep, I make a point of introducing myself to all the new girls

Mattie: Your sporting prowess was another topic of conversation, of course

Mattie: and please, feel free to call me Mattie

Mattie: we’re practically on an even keel and honestly, I am at a deficit in comparison to your knowledge about this place

Mattie: hence I was wondering if you could show Dolly the ropes and keep a general eye on her? She’s quiet but easygoing… I don’t think it should be too taxing a job 🤞

Fi: the 🏆🥇🥈 filing the cabinet speak for themselves, thank god, what a boring conversation otherwise 🥱 I prefer a humbler brag if needs seriously must

Fi: no fear, Mattie, new girls of any age get mentored like the year 7s do, until they show us they’re old hats, it’s part of my role here

Mattie: Actions and wins speak for themselves, eh 

Mattie: I just know she has come here after a bit of a tough time so a friendly face if she needs any assistance will be greatly appreciated

Fi: my face is the friendliest 😁 but if I had any deficit, to borrow your vocab from you, my dog would pick up the slack

Mattie: Oh my Gosh, what’s his name? 🤭

Fi: Guess, you won’t be able to ever!

Mattie: This is when I expose myself for having lacking general knowledge and quizzing skills too, oh no!

Mattie: Does it match your name, the energy, origin…? 🤔

Fi: I’ll give you a single clue, he’s named for my love of history

Mattie: Ooh, well he’s surely much too big to be a Napoleon

Mattie: I can’t claim a comprehensive knowledge of his love life but Henry doesn’t feel right either… What about a… Winston?

Fi: nope, you’re thinking too contemporary

Mattie: Caesar?

Mattie: And I will only do one more guess before I give up, to be a good sport!

Fi: 🥶

Mattie: 😨

Mattie: Umm, Aristotle? I know it isn’t but a good guess is truly alluding me

Fi: you were closest with Henry, or should I say his love life

Mattie: Not me misgendering this poor creature too! 😣

Fi: 😅 not at all, that you got right

Mattie: Is he a poet, perhaps a playwright?

Fi: I’ll help you, he’s named for the pet of a historical figure

Mattie: Gosh, please tell me you plan to study history next year, I couldn’t bear for this knowledge to go to waste

Fi: If they’ll have me

Mattie: This feels like an education in itself, I will definitely be looking up historical figures and their pets later

Mattie: currently, it would be cheating

Fi: good thinking, you do some homework and get back to me, miss

Mattie: You have to set a hand-in date, Fi

Fi: by the end of the day, I don’t have the patience for a longer deadline than that, neither does my dog, who you’re bound to hear somebody calling if I leave it and leave it

Mattie: True, I shall see what I can do, given it will only be a one-word answer, that seems like a fair deadline

Fi: no help from your brand new colleagues, [the history teacher] in particular, I’ll know 

Mattie: I would never

Mattie: It would be the hollowest of victories

Fi: I’d be most upset at having to deny you 🏆🥇 on your first day here, it’s too unsporting

Mattie: They’ll never have me on any team if I prove to be such a cheat, you’re adhering to the rules to a T 🏆🥇👱🏻‍♀️

Fi: What clubs are you signed up for?

Mattie: I’m definitely going to help out with Drama, myself and miss [the drama teacher] did our training together so whenever she needs a spare stagehand

Mattie: Apparently the running club would benefit from a member of staff too and I’m a keen runner so that’s another one for the list but I am open to your suggestions or any hot goss on that front

Mattie: the list is endless!

Fi: I’ll see you at 🏃🏼‍♀️ without having to cheat, but I’ve only been allowed in one play, my first and last, which to a newbie could be classed as hot goss I suppose

Fi: who knew it’s the worst form and frowned upon to close a trap door on your scene partner rather than continue? Not me

Mattie: I mean, I do consider that quite titillating information

Mattie: working trap doors mixed with teenagers is perhaps an oversight on the school’s behalf 

Fi: in my humble opinion I saved the play, and de-escalated what would have otherwise become a real life sword fight, but opinions differ 

Mattie: As [this drama teacher] is also a newbie, I’m sure she’d have no qualms in letting you take another, figurative, stab at it, if you wanted

Mattie: but it’ll be good to hit the track with you

Fi: to level with you, I was only interested in the ⚔️ this was my pre-fencing days

Fi: have you ever tried fencing? I’m obsessed

Mattie: I haven’t but I would love to!

Mattie: I was a ballet girl, in my youth, that took up almost all my energy and focus in terms of sport

Fi: ballet was fun too, my father used to take me, that was pre-divorce days

Mattie: At the risk of sounding like a 👩‍🦳 again, your energy must be boundless

Fi: I’ve been tested, but whatever my deficits, they aren’t officially in attention or called a disorder

Mattie: I didn’t think that, and even if they were, it seems like you make the most out of all the gifts you’ve been given

Mattie: You’d get on well with my older sister, she’s super sporty, HATED ballet though

Fi: he wanted a daughter who was 😊🩰🎀 but I don’t like to box myself in

Mattie: Sensible, no one thrives in a box

Mattie: which is very much the same reason my sister was put into ballet, that was pre-divorce too

Fi: it makes sense, as much as it can, with already having a son pre-marriage, parents are stereotypically fixed in their wants

Mattie: I think all parents have expectations

Mattie: it’s no child’s obligation to meet them all, if that is even possible

Mattie: but I try to have sympathy for a parent when things go entirely the opposite way to their imaginings 

Mattie: not to say I’m talking about you there, gosh, please do not think that

Fi: hilarious if she’s opened up to you about me that much on your first day, also alarming, I’d be forced to check her water bottle hasn’t been spiked

Mattie: That was wholly unprofessional of me 😶 I was truly thinking about my sister but that isn’t much better of me, sorry

Fi: I’m joking, she’d never be unprofessional, it’s all she cares about, you’ll be pushing it to get a ‘how was your evening?’

Fi: but your poor sister, no wonder it’s on your mind

Mattie: Oh she’s fine now, honest

Mattie: but we’ve all had our own boxes to fight against, I think

Fi: you said she’s older, is she the oldest?

Fi: as Allegra’s oldest, I relate to how small the box often feels 

Mattie: She is, yes

Mattie: I have heard that, especially for eldest girls

Fi: it does feel like you can’t win

Mattie: You give her so much to be proud of, surely

Fi: I give her a headache, above all

Mattie: She has a stressful job, I bet the other girls in her charge also have a lot to do with it

Fi: You’re gonna be an excellent form teacher for all the girls they’ve given you

Mattie: I really hope so, I will try to be

Mattie: it’s sweet of you to say

Fi: you’re sweet, and a good listener, like my fave bartender

Fi: not that I have one of those while it’s still technically illegal 😶

Mattie: 🙉 currently, though

Mattie: it would be awful form to have to tell you off right now, I *think* what you do outside of school hours is technically your business but I’d have to add that re-read of the rules to my homework pile

Fi: I think you should give me a practise telling off, being too sweet in your classes might cause you your own headache

Mattie: You’d die laughing

Mattie: if I’m 😁 they’ll all want to behave and do their work… right ?!! 😅

Fi: not to your face

Fi: play along, Mattie, be a sport

Mattie: 😬 Gah, alright then, tell me again and I’ll respond in the textbook stern fashion

Fi: [tell her a story she did not ask for about your antics at your fave bar, being scandalous so she’ll ‘tell you off’ haha]

Mattie: … What gave you the impression that was a suitable story to tell?

Fi: I knew it wasn’t which is why I told it

Mattie: No one here is impressed, in fact, I have a headache about the paperwork already

Mattie: not only have you ensured a stop is put to your own ‘good time’ but I have to take appropriate measures to make sure you’re suitably punished, at the expense of my own free time

Fi: amazing

Mattie: 💐 are acceptable or 👏 at a pinch

Mattie: I don’t think they would have passed me if I couldn’t fake it

Fi: what flowers do you like? school grounds will limit my 💐 making but if you promise not to tell me off I’ll go further afield as needed

Mattie: I do adore sweet peas 

Mattie: and I did spy some on the grounds

Fi: oh miss, you really wanna keep me caged, you are well trained

Mattie: I don’t know if we go with the word ‘caged’

Mattie: keeping you here between the hours of [a school day] is at least partially what they’re paying me for, I grant you

Fi: Where did you study? I remember you telling us when you were here on placement but I’ve forgotten the specifics, it’s local, London, but otherwise I’m lost and I’d have to use a fair few guesses

Mattie: Greenwich, my dad went there and loved it, it’s also not too far from home, which I still needed at that time

Fi: you probably don’t know how it’s ranked for history, do you?

Fi: I’m not sure where to go

Mattie: I don’t think it ranks highly, it’s not a prestigious Uni, in particular 

Mattie: Are you thinking you want to stay local or go further afield?

Fi: as usual I’m torn, my dad would like me local to him in [whatever foreign country he lives in] but I’d like to stay here, or closer than that, anyway

Mattie: That is a tough decision, a real grass is always greener conundrum too, potentially

Mattie: I know people who stayed home and wish they hadn’t and people who found being too far very difficult and regretted it

Mattie: You still have ‘til [the UCAS deadline] thank goodness, I used every day I had to make my choices 😅

Fi: time to pick sweet peas and count the petals to make a decision without sacrificing your entire bouquet supply to my ??!

Mattie: I should allow it but I’d be a little gutted 🤏

Mattie: I’d smell the indecision in the air with every petal

Fi: I can’t allow it, upsetting teachers is only fun when it’s [and list the ones who you don’t like/don’t like you]

Mattie: That isn’t a list I want to join, must be said

Mattie: not just because I’ve been told of the archery and fencing skills, as well as the trapdoor incident 

Fi: please don’t, I had the worst form tutor in [pick a year, it doesn’t matter] 

Mattie: I think we’ll get along just fine

Mattie: as one of my 6th and Head Girl to boot, we’re a team more than I’m an adversary

Fi: I get the feeling you wouldn’t make me cry, unlike she who must not be named, because she still works here

Mattie: That’s awful, I’m so sorry

Fi: I don’t do that anymore, she killed the urge after a solid fortnight

Mattie: Did you speak to anyone else, like another member of staff, I mean?

Fi: I tried but she thought I was being overdramatic, I don’t know if she didn’t believe I was actually crying or just didn’t believe why warranted it

Mattie: That shouldn’t have been allowed to stand, whether someone else feels the situation requires any level of upset is so irrelevant, you were and feelings are meant to be respected for what they are, not forced into rationality

Fi: I warned the other girls about her, it’s my yearly crusade

Fi: hopefully it’s established lore by the time I leave

Mattie: it’s very apparent, how much you truly care about the others

Mattie: I see why you made Head Girl

Fi: We have to look out for each other, particularly if some of the people whose job it is aren’t going to do it

Mattie: It’s one of the things I admired about this place, the genuine closeness

Fi: it is genuine, not in a ‘run, Mattie, you’ve joined a cult’ way, I promise

Mattie: 😌 a lot of these kids need that second family, that belonging and support

Mattie: I’m looking forward to being part of it, however small

Fi: I’ll miss being part of it

Mattie: I bet, it’s been an even bigger part of your life than most

Fi: I’d come back and teach here but Allegra and I might kill each other

Mattie: You’d make an excellent teacher

Fi: I know, but she’d snap at having to be professional towards me

Mattie: There are lots of schools and lots of opportunities for you both, see what the future brings, Fi

Fi: you didn’t go to boarding school, did you?

Mattie: No, I didn’t

Fi: thank god, I pride myself on being able to tell and I’m yet to be wrong, you could’ve ruined my streak, Mattie

Mattie: 😮‍💨 collective sigh of that that didn’t happen

Mattie: I do want to know what the tells are, however

Fi: see if you can figure them out based on the list I’m about to give you of have and have nots

Fi: [drop that list, all the tea and shade lol]

Mattie: I can tell you’ve been here for the duration

Mattie: comprehensive and accurate on all counts 🤭

Fi: it’s like those relatives you don’t see often but when you do they hardcore overstay and share and you find out more than you bargained, is the closest comparison to coin for my insider knowledge

Fi: but you’re welcome to practise grade me

Mattie: I *could*

Mattie: but I don’t know if I qualify as the expert for the flip side of this school experience coin

Fi: this could be your first and last opportunity, not teaching me, to award me a [the equivalent of an A cos grades are different now and idk], live a little 

Mattie: If my 6th formers aren’t getting [the equivalent of A and A*s] then I’ve not done my job well enough, obviously 😏

Mattie: I can’t hand them out like 🍬 or ⭐️ but you’re certainly working towards

Fi: I won’t tell your 6th formers anything 🤫🔒

Mattie: A box of for a 💐 is standard payment, what’s your favourite?

Fi: if you hand me a box of ⭐️ nowhere and no one in school is safe

Fi: 🍬? [why has my mind gone blank on every chocolate or sweet that exists, I will come back and put one when I think lol]

Mattie: No amount of 🤫🔒 will stop that sticker outbreak from getting back to my endless supply of ⭐️!

Mattie: I’ve had an idea though, I’ll surprise you

Fi: cool, I’m looking forward to seeing if you can

Mattie: As subpar as my detective skills have proved, I’d be surprised myself if yours were that keen

Fi: but what if they are? 

Fi: we’ll soon run out of surprises for each other

Mattie: Wait and see ✨

Mattie: If I surprise you this time, then my track record stands us in good stead 

Fi: an exciting prospect for any teacher to have a top-notch track record

Fi: it’ll be great fun having you here

Mattie: Thanks, I’m hoping so too

Mattie: I had a lot of fun on my placement, hence the return

Fi: I did my fair share of welcome wagon-ing that first day too, it’d be hard to live down if I scared you off with it, my own track record would be at stake

Mattie: You’re not scary, not a challenge to prove me wrong 😅

Mattie: there’s absolutely nothing wrong in knowing how to have fun, I’d count it in your favour

Fi: which is why you’ll get surprises and [teachers we love to shade] shan’t! 

Mattie: 🥳🥳

Mattie: I am in this job for the surprises, honestly

Fi: oh how easily I could make those words your famous last if I wasn’t bound by my honour as Head Girl

Mattie: heavy is the head atop the blazer with the special badge 🤷‍♀️

Fi: you would think you’d joined a cult if I stole your flowers to fashion into a crown

Mattie: My love for a flower crown would get me into that kind of mess… I used to steal my poor neighbour's flowers from her hanging baskets 😱

Fi: We’d get along so famously, I have so many childhood anecdotes about getting in trouble, and having, shall we say, niche interests I’d go above and beyond for 😄

Fi: when my friends were in their disney princess era, I named all of my fave toys for Henry VIII’s wives and reenacted their grizzly fates accordingly

Fi: on another occasion I insisted we turned the garden into a plague pit and they all lie there, in what was essentially a child labour dug mass grave, until I was bored of the game

Mattie: You can’t beat the storylines Henry gave us, rivals any disney film by a longshot, as well as the [kardashians of this era]

Mattie: That’s amazing though, history in action, I loved dragging my family around many a palace or castle to play at princess warrior knight

Fi: Allegra and her husband would have been delighted to drag and lock me into a castle when they found my baby brother wrapped up like a mummy and me in the midst of trying to stick a spoon and straw up his nose 😆

Mattie: 😲🤭 two pairs of eyes is not enough to watch little kids, I have no idea how anyone has their own or works with them

Fi: it’s a miracle he survived my curiosity into childhood, poor thing

Mattie: I saw him running off to his school this AM, he seems robust, a big sister will do that to you

Fi: I have to try, his parents will baby him horribly if left to their own devices

Mattie: I think when there’s a gap like that, that can be the impulse sometimes

Fi: and he is their pre-menopause miracle, I guess

Fi: but I didn’t say that because it’s not kind to discuss 👩‍🦳 

Mattie: 🤐 from me

Fi: personally, if I had an on tap excuse to hand out for why I was being a grump to everyone I’d shout about it, but maybe that’s just me

Mattie: I suppose if you can’t help but be a grump and you’d really like not to be, it’s a bit sensitive 

Fi: would she like not to be? is that your true first impression?

Mattie: I can’t imagine a world where anyone wants to be anything other than happy, really

Mattie: some people just struggle

Fi: I like the sound of your imagination

Mattie: I know it’s naive but I have to believe that 

Mattie: or there’s no hope for certain people

Fi: sometimes I feel jaded, I’d rather naive if there’s an option

Mattie: there’s a whole 🌈 out there

Mattie: isn’t jaded just another box?

Fi: a box made of jade, perhaps, one for the dressing table

Mattie: You don’t strike me as ornamental

Fi: ouch, I don’t think I’ve ever been called ugly in such a pretty way

Mattie: That is not what I meant!

Mattie: I meant you’re not going to just sit on any shelf to be admired, it was very much a compliment of your character

Fi: okay, we can avoid two form tutors making me cry

Mattie: I would never say such a thing and you’d do well to never believe it from anyone, such a clear falsehood

Fi: I’ll do my best not to give in to the teenage urge while I still am one, it wouldn’t set the right example to the younger girls

Mattie: That’s the spirit 🌷🐇🧁💙

Fi: You pull me in different directions, on the one hand I wish you had been here to teach for my more formative years, but on the other you should’ve been here for yours as a pupil

Mattie: I would have loved it here, I wanted constant sleepovers, always having my friends with me, boarding, in that sense, would be ideal

Mattie: I dread to think the bad influence I would have been on poor 11-year-old you, being, what, 15, 16 myself?

Fi: I’d still have been the bad influence, I think we both know that

Mattie: 😋

Mattie: How rude of you to doubt my bad girl era

Fi: I have to doubt the unknown, a little

Mattie: There is such thing as a healthy dose of scepticism, true

Fi: and if I dwell on your bad girl era I’ll have to know everything, which goes against my self made promise not to get you into trouble quite yet

Mattie: My lips are sealed 🤐 

Fi: it’s hard work being good, I may be on the wrong track imagining I can make a career out of it too

Mattie: The nunnery or the law?

Mattie: but tell me about it, I’m keenly aware there are [however many girls are in this house, I’m sure it’s not exactly 50 every time but around that] of you that I have to keep on a good path, somehow

Fi: I’ll help you, nobody has demanded it has to be an entirely boring straight and narrow all the time

Mattie: And there’s the rest of the staff too, it isn’t solely on my shoulders to be 😇

Mattie: I don’t think anyone truly connects with that but maybe connection isn’t as important as I think it is in this role

Fi: trust yourself, connection is very important

Mattie: seeing your teacher is just as human as you, with their own life outside of the lessons too, surely that would lead you to want to see learning as collaborative, rather than me reeling off facts from a PowerPoint

Mattie: and hopefully, anyone with a problem would be more inclined to reach out if they know I’ve not got the room to be a judgmental cow about it 

Mattie: that’s just my soapbox, though

Fi: it’s a box we can make an exception for

Mattie: And your surprise, I hope

Fi: I’d almost forgotten my surprise is a real thing you’re organising, as something else not to dwell on because it’s too exciting

Mattie: ⏲

Mattie: Are you studying in a friend’s dormie, where would you like me to leave said surprise? 

Fi: [drop the deets because I’m sure you are]

Fi: yours will be in your room

Fi: [letting you know here and now that she’s obvs left the flowers looking cute af in some bottle or jar but also she will have drawn this gal a map, that unlike the functional one Lulu drew for her first day begrudgingly to help her get around, is a literal work of art and not actually functional, like those old ones with insane scale and pics of sea monsters and mermaids like we want but of parts of this school as different countries, you know the vibe, it’ll definitely take her ages to do] 

Mattie: [I LOVE everything about that boo, she will be obsessed, don’t mind us, being very gay from the off here]

Fi: [nothing platonic about the amount of work you’ve shamelessly put into drawing that to balance out how quickly you picked the flowers and the fact they weren’t a surprise]

Mattie: [there isn’t anything platonic about any of this, I’m sorry, like will we bake for other gals, of course, but did we rush to do it on our first day and get magic stars to make it an in-joke? No hun]

Fi: [which is why I already love y’all and cannot wait for you to see each other at this engagement party, lord knows the happy couple are too dry to be having any fun]

Mattie: [and there isn’t a power dynamic because she isn’t her teacher and there’s barely an age gap, soz haters, fight with the wall, jemily does as they please]

Fi: [they are similar to Java in that way which I love because they are your parents, soz that you’re literally encouraged to be besties with your form tutor and confide in them about shit, which is all y’all are doing til she leaves]

Mattie: [also in this particular scenario, Mattie is the newbie, Fi has the experience and the power behind her, she could get Mattie fired if she wanted, it isn’t all age]

Fi: [agreed, oh the many places we could bebop to, do you wanna keep doing school or skip, what are you feeling gal?]

Mattie: [I think it might be fun to skip to engagement, as long as we’re both firm on the vibe of this school year, there’s no reason we can’t… we may come back and commit ourselves to stuff in said year later but as a first write and toe dip, I wouldn’t mind]

Fi: [I’m down too, as Winnie had the idea and it’s fresh in our minds + lowkey the era we properly wanna set y’all I think we can, we love to hop around with everybody so we can always come back at any point but I think this first day sets the vibe and tone of how y’all were during school well enough we both know what’s up]

Mattie: [agreed girly pops, I will post this so we can re-read the first convo separately later if we wanna]

Fi: [good thinking, me like it’s not very long and then remembering it’s literally set over a school day so it is pretty long actually lol]

Mattie: [like we could say our thank yous for the respective gifts here too but might die from how gay it is lmao]

Fi: [my boo says we gotta pace ourselves haha, I’m sure this bitch will say it in person when she sees her next like the AM after anyway so, purely to be more extra about it]

Mattie: [me like thank the lord Lulu is not in your form, be trying to poison your next batch casually]

Fi: [we did you a real favour there ladies, you don’t even know]

Mattie: [her at this engagement ignoring Gabe on all counts, very funny]

Fi: [again y’all are welcome Sekhmet is there being the most distracting or Fi you’d be in danger, girl]

Mattie: [it’ll keep her off your trail whilst we need her to be aka so Mattie doesn’t choke immediately and can’t go through with it]

Fi: [we’ve been smart, have you got an outfit already done from before? Cos maybe you could post one of these hoes together now, but anyway I’ll shh and let you post this]

[slothgiirl]

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.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

I’m sorry if you already discussed this, what are your thoughts on the narrative "BTS has been/is being mistreated by the music industry" that goes around in the fandom? as much as I am a fan, and I do see some eyebrow-raising stuff + obvious examples of racism and ostracism, I feel like this idea of "Bangtan against the world/they’re been sabotaged" sounds lowkey conspiracy-ish at times. Are they really? Maybe I’m naive, I don’t know. I’m especially lost when it comes to streams and platforms such as Spotify/YT filtering the streams. I mean, the fandom is so huge now and people are playing songs on repeat for the sake of it, it does not seem like a really faire competition to me… they’re not the only ones doing this for sure as it seems to be a common thing in kpop fandoms but it seems like a taboo topic to question it… I guess I’m too old for this, lol (33 yo), i don’t get why people are so obsessed with the ranking and it seems like it keeps feeding the idea that it’s Army the savior of poor mistreated BTS against the whole mean industry (which is probably a pithole anyway). Every time I’ve tried to introduce my friends around my age to kpop, the first thing they always say is that they have a bad image on the genre because the fans are completely unhinged which does not make the music very welcoming unfortunately. I find it sad that fans don’t realize that they’re actually probably doing more harm than good.

Anon 2

My god, BMT, have you seen the whole Spotify/Lisa/ARMY fiasco on Twitter? When will these fans accept the fact that BTS aren’t victims—haven’t been for a long time—and they don’t need ARMYs protection? Then again, of course the behavior will continue when BTS encourage (James Cordon, “got ARMYs right behind us when we say so”, blah blah blah). It’s embarrassing and disgusting 💀

I've said times multiple times and nothing happened to change my mind as of today, but Army is still victimizing BTS because it's an integral part of the fandom's raison d'etre. They need to fight, they need to be the savior. And how many times have I not seen I-Army calling out the Korean fans for not streaming enough which once again, is done as a way to put themselves on this superior position in which the foreigner knows best and is the only one able to save and truly love an uplift this Korean group. But this overall mentality is found across the board. Of course it's dumb.

I saw the tweets for the past two days and honestly, it looks like desperation to me, for something that truly doesn't make any sense. Army is still there in the trences for an imaginary war that has long been won already and they are on the winning side, except they don't want to recognize it because without that war, they have no purpose. In 2022, is BTS a group dependent on streams? Really? Is that a main concern? They made it. They made a long time ago, which only makes this even more ridiculous. For this fandom, numbers will always matter most and not the quality of music, despite preaching that it's the most important aspect they're interested about and the reason why they "stan" BTS. Except they fail or won't admit that this is also about them and how they're in competition with every single person on this planet who is not BTS or BTS-approved.

They make BTS as victims when these so-called victims get to have a stage at Lollapalooza, debut one song on a stadium tour in Argentina, sing at the World Cup and without being a well established solo artist, a place at NPR Tiny Desk. Those are opportunities that came because as a group, they reached a certain level of success and fame that opens those types of doors. They are not debuting a solo song on Music Bank, but on world stages. And somehow, they still need a fandom to fight insignificant battles.