#can you tell I excelled in my english exams

[thecolterparable]

wanted to point out here the similarities and differences between dutch and arthurs journals and how it reflects the set hierarchy between the two characters.

mayhaps I'm looking into this too much, this could EASILY be the case of preference... but I find the small details ;)

the two share the handwriting style: cursive. it's expected as cursive was a common handwriting technique in the 19th century.

cursive was used because it was a faster method and speed was prioritized over legibility. private conversations were more efficient if the words were harder to decipher, and so on so forth.

I've left a link to a reddit post with different letters, so feel free to check those out!

but in the context of rdr2?

the gang all write under the name "tacitus kilgore" to the post office and to make it harder to track the fake alias down, it wouldn't surprise me if dutch and hosea taught arthur and john to write similarly. (I'd assume that's the case because mary's letters are picked up by other members of the gang and a dialogue I vaguely remember in the new south(?) about the name... uhh)

arthurs penmanship is bigger than dutch's with a slight slant to it too. he spends his solitude in solace with a journal, and it's likely that the bigger handwriting just means he's not as interested in writing than he is drawing. the penmanship is perfect for captioning his sketches too, frankly enough...

but dutch's? a different case. his journal has lines, indexing them much like his own makeshift book (like the philosophy books he has, such can be found and read in horseshoe overlook) he's crafted. he's had the time to individualise those entries, order them out and make sure those words of his are strong.

he has the time to breathe and think it through. LITERALLY.

annoyingly enough I cannot for the life of me decipher the text... if anyone HAS, FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE!

arthurs more creative, yet runs on wasted time. similar to his position in the gang and how he operates.

dutch is more conforming, caved in by the walls he creates. again, it's similar to how he leads and the demise of his fate.

[intellectual6666]

I have some things to talk about, which I felt and saw after I got my CBSE 10th results.

Everyone takes credit. Like relatives who for the whole year kept saying, "our children also gave boards, why are they (my parents) acting like it's such a big thing?", "they are showing as if only they have work and they are busy, we are useless na", came to say, "she is our daughter/granddaughter, that's why she excelled in her exams." I do have a lot of respect for them and yes, I love them a lot too and also you can take credits of it, due to their ashirvad I was able to excel in the exams but why act like they are "only" reason I got good marks in it ? I would like to give 50% credits to my parents and the rest to me and my God. There was also a time when my father was not able to give the monthly fees of my school for 3 months, but he managed to keep me in a English medium private school by working his ass off. My mother left her social life, didn't even go to ISKCON (her favourite place) so that she can keep her full attention on me. We went through so much financial issues in 2022 and 2023 (first half) but my parents didn't let my education sacrifice. I, didn't take any tuitions so that I do not put extra burden on them (another reason I didn't take tuition coz I prefer self study more than tuitions). Me, who got so stressed because of my class 10 boards that by the time my exams were near my mental health worsened. I was getting suicidal thoughts and got introduced to new health problems which still haunt me, hypertension and palpitation. But still, I worked hard, my closest friends helped me, my parents helped me and most importantly Krishna ji, Ganesh ji, Radharani ji and Mahadev helped me. My struggle was totally mine and no one fought the war inside me other than me. So before taking the whole credit, atleast for once one should think about the people who really worked hard.

Second, this comparison shit kills one inside. No, I didn't compare myself to anyone as my parents never taught me that nor they ever compared me to anyone. Basically me and my maternal uncle's daughter are really close. And she is quite average in her studies. But trust me she is an amazing dancer, singer and artist. I envy her because of the great acting skills she have. But according to that typical thoughts, her parents always compare her with me and try to demean her, on the thing that she is not much good in studies and I'm comparatively good in it. Her results came out some days ago, as she used to study in an ICSE school and to be honest, she did amazing. Getting such marks is not so easy in ICSE board. Yesterday her mother kept comparing her with me and made her feel insecure and bad. Like why ? What do you get by hurting a child ? Why the actual fuck can't you ever be satisfied with whatever she got ? Praise her, tell her she is amazing, bring some confidence in her instead of making her feel so insecure that she starts to kill her feelings for everyone. Please freaking stop that. My mother, as usual a boss lady, replied her so sassily that my sissy ran to her and hugged her for 15 minutes straight. All of my closest friends got above 90% and I got below it, but God my parents didn't think about that for even once. They kept praising me.

So this was a rant post and you can totally ignore it if you want. Sorry for writing such a long ass thing, I had a lot to burst out.

And also sorry if there's any spelling mistake.

Congratulations to all the 10thies and 12thies for acing your exams. Everyone did amazing. I'm proud of you.

[dao-the-starlight]

A Gift for Clxudy Xuan

SURPRISE!!! It's my secret santa gift for the lovely @clxudyxuan for the @olnfsecretsanta2024 event!

A/N to my giftee Xuan: MERRY CHRISTMAS XUAN!!!! It’s me, your secret Santa!!! Before I say anything let me just say I'M SO SORRY for getting this in a day late!! In my time zone, it’s only just the 15th today, so for me the gift exchange happened a day early, and once I realized I had to scramble to my doc and make any changes and tweaks I wanted to. I hope you enjoy this gift, it was incredibly fun to make and I'm so glad I got to make this. I was in a constant fist-fight with writer’s block the entire time I made this so I’m incredibly sorry if there are some errors here and there in the writing, I tried my absolute best to give you the best gift for the holidays! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Xuan!! 🎄🎄🎄

Word Count: Roughly 2.9k Words

Credit to @/saradika-graphics for the headers

“In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, Shakespeare explores themes of the relationships between people and the many hardships that can come with it. Choose three pieces of evidence from the play that support these themes and write, in your own words, an Analytical Essay to show your understanding of the play.”

The monotonous ticking of an ornate clock on a desk served as the only noise in Elise’s bedroom as she stared daggers at the assignment laid in front of her. Winter break had finally arrived at Riverview Peak High School, though the “break” part of the event seemed to be a total lie as the teachers had decided it was a truly wonderful idea to give their students a pile of assignments to complete by the end of the break. “It’s to prepare for your exams!!”, they’d all say. Sure. Fine. That made sense, but why call it a Winter Break then??

If you asked any fellow classmate, they’d tell you that this was the teacher’s dumb way to keep annoying their students. Though to Elise, this was the worst fate that could’ve fallen upon her. She was very eager for winter break, delighted for it even, finally after months of assignments and quizzes and the constant non-stop threat of her grades lowering, Elise was ecstatic at the fact that she could have finally gotten a long break for herself. She had even already planned how she wanted to spend her break, quality time with Mom, practice her piano and singing (and hopefully master that song she hoped to perform for Christmas), and have some winter adventures with her friends, without any bickering this time. But she’s already one week into the break and all she’s done is work work work. Chipping away at the assignments pushed onto her already heavy load.

“Maybe I’m cursed.” Elise would think, “I was too excited for the break, but my grades slipped after I bombed that last math test, so now I’m cursed with more work until I can fix it. I should’ve known that would’ve come back to bite me!”

It certainly didn’t help that Elise had already fallen behind on some of her classes, so now the assignments she had to finish before January felt neverending. Once she managed to finish one and shove it back into her “Finished Assignments” folder, three more assignments would appear to bug her. The past week had mostly been focused on Elise’s math work, booklets, worksheets, mini quizzes, and the occasional “artistic” project to “shake things up” as her teacher would put it. Eventually, it had all become too much, if Elise had to look at one more nonsensical math equation, she thinks she would’ve gone mad. So, even if there was still more to do, Elise switched over to her English assignments, which brings her to now, staring so harshly at her paper that she could have burned a hole straight through it.

It was easy really, just write an essay on a play the class had been studying for weeks, simple enough. Elise had written a bunch of essays during this semester and always excelled as she ought to. This should be a walk in the park! But… Whenever she looked at her assignment and tried to plan out what she could write… nothing came up. She blanked on everything. It was like she got hit with amnesia overnight, every time she tried to recall the events of the play all she got were vague blurry afterimages of things she couldn’t put into words.

Elise wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and tear up this paper into scraps, but she couldn’t get the energy to even try. She had to get everything finished now. She couldn't bear to think about what might happen to her grades if she didn’t finish everything in time. But right now, the only thing she could muster the energy for was to pitifully let her head fall onto her desk, not even acknowledging the pain that shot through her forehead as her head hit the wood.

“Maybe if I stay right here like this, everything will be fine…” she thought to herself.

…

……

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

“Elise? Are you awake yet?” The muffled voice of Elise’s mom called from just outside her room door, giving the girl possibly the biggest shock of her life.

Elise shouted… something. Honestly, with her tired mind still catching up to her body, she couldn’t tell if she had shouted a quick “Yes I’m awake!!” or “One second!!”, or maybe even something else entirely. Regardless of whatever words tumbled out of her mouth, Elise sprang up from her desk and immediately grabbed all of her assignments and schoolbooks to unceremoniously shove into whatever free drawers and other hide-y holes she could find.

Just as she shoved her last English assignment into her bag (crumpling it in the process, ugh.) her bedroom door creaked open and her mother peeked her head in, seeing Elise hunched over her backpack quietly grumbling about something.

“Elise…?” she called.

At the sound of her mother’s sudden voice behind her, Elise scrambled to get up to her feet and address her mom. Once she was standing she immediately began to fiddle with her appearance by pure instinct, smoothing out her hair and nightgown hastily and getting rid of any unsightly imperfections she physically saw on herself.

“Ugh I must be a mess right now…” she whined in her mind.

When she finally deemed herself presentable, she looked up to face her mother and oh she was not that close when Elise first heard her. She must have fully walked into the room at some point. Figuring that her mom was simply here to make a quick check-in on her daughter, Elise quickly first spoke to show that she was definitely fine.

“Good morning Mom! I was just looking over some old schoolwork! I wasn’t expecting you to come into my room so you scared me... Is breakfast ready?”

Perfectly cheery, see? She doesn’t sound tired at all! Definitely a perfect happy daughter for a perfect happy mother.

Elise’s mother, Opal, paused for a moment, her gaze flicking from her daughter’s slightly too-wide smile to the desk behind her with pencils and erasers and other stationary utensils strewn about. Without missing a beat, she looked back at her daughter and reached out to fondly brush her hand over her golden hair, slightly ruffling it up in the process. Elise tried her best not to bristle at the action.

Opal hummed, “Well, yes breakfast is ready. Buuut~ I also wanted to ask you about helping your mom with her lovely Christmas decorations for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow…?”, Elise thought, “What’s happening tomorrow- Oh my goodness I forgot.”

Tomorrow was December twenty-fourth meaning it was Christmas Eve, but not only was it Christmas Eve tomorrow, it was also the “Second Family Christmas Party!”, a party that Elise’s mother had thought up back when she and her daughter had first moved to Golden Grove. After seeing Elise make a new crew of friends, her mother thought it would be amazing to try and brighten up her first Christmas in a new town by inviting all of Elise’s friends and their families over for a Christmas celebration. She and her daughter spent days buying all of the most fancy Christmas decorations they could find, and spent the twenty-third putting them all around the house to turn into a winter wonderland, and come the day of the party everyone loved it! Since then the party has become a tradition for the Second Family, and it just so happens that the party was tomorrow. Elise hadn’t even noticed due to how much she occupied herself with schoolwork and nothing else.

“Oh!! Right. Tomorrow. I… almost forgot! I’d love to decorate with you!” Elise said with a timid strain to her voice.

Elise still had work, lots of work, she really couldn’t neglect it. But she also knows how much her mom loves setting up this party with her, “It’s my favourite part of Christmas!” she’d say, before quickly tacking on some spiel about how truly any time spent with her daughter was her favourite part of Christmas, Elise couldn’t let her mom down and break her heart like that.

Opal smiled, and patted her hair once again, “Thank you, dear. You can come on down when you’re ready, breakfast will be there on the table. I made your favourite”

She gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, for good measure Elise supposed, before stepping out of the bedroom and heading back downstairs.

Once her mother left, it felt like Elise had been dunked over the head with a bucket of ice-cold water. Pushing out a harsh sigh she crouched down and held her hands tight in her hair, not even caring at how unruly her locks became after fussing over it looking “presentable” mere moments before. In her lonesome, she was frantically running scenario after scenario through her head, desperately trying to figure out how she could fit in Christmas celebrations with her work. But in every single scenario, something had to be postponed, pushed back further into winter break meaning Elise had less time to finish everything. How was anything going to get done??

Eventually, after… Well, who knows how long, Elise’s body seemed to make a choice for her as her stomach growled loudly and the telltale pang of hunger racked through her body.

“Time for breakfast…” She mused, slowly standing back up and exciting her room to finally face the day.

~~~~

“Oh! I almost forgot about these! Elise? I have to touch up the lights outside before it gets too dark. Could you grab the rest of these crafts here and string them up around the living room for me?” Opal called.

“Will do Mom!” Elise hopped from the kitchen to the living room, passing her mom who was heading out to the front door on the way.

After Elise had headed down for breakfast (which she had to warm up cause she had in fact taken that long, sorry Mom), she saw her mother bringing out box after box of Christmas decorations and placing them out around the living room. Once Opal heard Elise coming down into the kitchen, she looked up and lit up with glee at the sight of her daughter, greeting her warmly again before continuing what she was doing. Seeing just how excited her mother got at something as “silly” as Christmas decorating, Elise couldn’t help but feel a warm fond feeling of nostalgia fill her chest. Maybe…. school could wait just a little longer… For her mom.

So now, here Elise was, shifting through one of the last boxes of the day. This particular box was filled with a plethora of fun Christmas-themed crafts that Elise and her friends had made during past parties before… things changed. But regardless of the present, these mementos of the past held a lot of memories that couldn’t be forgotten, so it was a pleasure to put them up around the house, lord knows the older Lin’s, Baumann’s, and Murray’s always appreciated it if the kids didn’t.

After around thirty minutes passed, Elise managed to go through everything in the crafts box except for one final thing. Laid there at the very bottom of the box was the very first craft Elise had ever made, a quaint paper and felt card featuring Elise and her closest friends, Qiu and Tamarack, as the main feature on the cover with the words "MERRY CHRISTMAS GOLDEN GROVE" drawn on over the felt with presumably some colourful sharpie pens. Elise reached into the box and pulled the card out, treating it as if it were made of the finest and most fragile glass in the whole world. She carefully ran her fingers over the edge of the felt that made up her felt self’s hair, unable to hold back the emotional grin that overtook her features. Moving over to her best friend's felt figures, she couldn’t help but giggle at the cute crudeness of it all.

The whole card had actually been Elise’s mom’s idea during the very first Christmas party she had. The kids (minus Ren, who at the time already had plans with the rest of the Murrays for Christmas Eve and therefore couldn’t attend) had gotten quite restless while waiting for their party gift exchange, and in their efforts to find something to do, they found a box of craft supplies that were stored in the hallway closet. Opal saw and gave the kids the idea of making a big gift card for themselves to celebrate their first Christmas together. And just like that the kids created a brand new Christmas tradition.

Funny. Elise never realized how many “traditions” she had made here in Golden Grove with her best friends and family surrounding Christmas. She wondered if that would keep going into adulthood. She really hoped it would…

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the front door opening and her now snow-covered mom shuffling into the house. She stood up and was met with the sight of her mother trying her best to shake off all the snow on her while also doing everything she could to not get snow everywhere inside the foyer, all while quietly muttering something about the cold and underestimating Golden Grove’s winter. Unable to hold back, Elise laughed before skipping over to her mom and helping her gather her winter gear and putting it away, earning a fond “Thank you Elise” from her mother during the shuffle.

Once everything was put away and Opal was officially declared “snow-free”, the mother-daughter duo walked out of the foyer and gazed upon the now beautifully decorated house, it truly looked like the house had transformed into a bite-sized version of a fantasy Christmas town.

Opal sighed, love and nostalgia swelling in her chest. 

“Oh, it gets more beautiful every year…” 

“Thank you, my dear. I couldn’t have done this without your teamwork.” she quickly turned to Elise and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Elise chuckled, murmuring a small “You’re welcome” as she moved to hug her mother. The embrace lasted for a few long seconds, both Opal and Elise silently taking in the moment. After the two finally deemed the hug satisfactory, Opal pulled back first with a smile on her face as she looked down at Elise.

“How about, to celebrate our efforts, we have a fun movie night? There’s some popcorn over in the pantry, I can cook some up and we can stay up as late as we want watching Christmas movies!” she suggested.

Elise was just about to eagerly accept her mother’s offer when suddenly she was yanked back to reality by her brain harshly reminding her of the schoolwork waiting back in her room, and her mother’s voice faded far into the background. She had almost forgotten entirely, how could she? There was still so much to be done and she practically wasted the whole day decorating. How was she going to get everything done? Well, there was the essay she tried to write this morning, but there were also some of the other math workbooks she left behind as well… Maybe if she started the essay now, she could-

“It’ll be a nice break for the both of us!” Opal suddenly exclaimed and placed her hands on Elise’s shoulders.

“A moment for us to wind down before all the business of Christmas. We both deserve it,” she added.

Elise only stared at her mother for a moment, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to dismiss her mom, but she also absolutely couldn’t afford to push back her work any further, her grades could slip again. Though it seemed that Opal would make the final decision before Elise could.

Opal gently grabbed Elise’s hand and walked her towards the living room couch before letting her go to rummage through a nearby coffee table to find her collection of DVDs, musing on about how they could start their movie night with Elise’s favourite Christmas movie.

Elise’s mind failed to catch up with her body, she simply allowed her mom to pull her around and once she was in front of the couch all she did was sit down and wait for her mom.

“Well, I’m already here… I guess it’s too late to leave now.” Elise thought as she adjusted to sit more properly, exuding what she believed to be a more lady-like demeanour.

After rummaging around the DVD collection, Opal finally found just the movie she was looking for, “Ah! There you are. Elise, could you turn on the TV for me while I set up the DVD player?”

Elise muttered a quick “Sure” and reached for the remote, promptly pointing it at the TV and turning it on, just as her mother placed the DVD player up and running and placed the disk inside.

Opal walked back over to the couch and sat down right next to Elise, grabbing a nearby blanket and draping it over herself and her daughter, meanwhile, Elise fiddled around with the remote some more to get the TV to the right cable.

After all the setup, the movie could begin. Elise and Opal moved to get as comfy as possible under the blanket, Elise leaned against her mother and Opal wrapped her arm securely around her daughter. The two became snug as a bug just at the right time when the movie was beginning and classic Christmas music rang through the TV speakers.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” Opal whispered.

“Mm… Merry Christmas Mom…” Elise couldn’t help but let out a very long, but content, sigh.

It was so nice to get a break.

……

“Oh dear- I forgot our popcorn!!”

Fin

Merry Christmas 🎅

[spicywarl0ck]

Getting to know your Mutuals

Thank you for the tag @perlen-gold <3 It took me a few days because of limited time, but here you go:

What's the origin of your blog's title? 

Nothing exciting really, the name came to be because I enjoy playing the Warlock Class in DnD, and the Spicy because I enjoy writing spicy things and content. :) Plus I wanted a more or less neutral name to go with everything <3

Favorite Fandoms: 

The only fandom I’m really active is Dragon Age and apart from that I live in a small bubble combining multiple things.

OTP(s) + shipname: 

mHawke/Fenris (Fenhawke)

Tenth Doctor/ Rose Tyler (TenRose)

Favorite color: 

Purple <3

Favorite game: 

Dragon Age, Persona 5 Royal, Final Fantasy 7 Remake

Song stuck in your head: 

Currently, It’s always between Popular, What is this Feeling and Dancing through life all 3 from the Wicked musical 

Weirdest habit/trait? 

I can jump between multiple topics within seconds without a break. Like if you chat me up about a Tv series, I promise you, I can go through multiple TV series, to games and tell you what I had for lunch last weekend within the same 5 minutes. And then jump to yet another completely unrelated topic xD Apart from that, I am weird in general.

Hobbies: 

Writing, about to attempt taking up sewing this year, playing video games, reading (No time for more)

If you work, what's your profession? 

I am a Nurse Assistant, and currently up to do the apprenticeship to become a full-fledged Nurse. <3

If you could have any job you wish what would it be?

I always wanted to work as a Lab assistant. Like analysing Blood etc. I might still get the chance to study virology in the future, so we’ll see about that <3

Something you're good at:

I guess I am good at my Job xD Which is so sad. I can’t think of another thing I’m good at atm. But maybe it’s imposter syndrome. 

Something you're bad at:

I forget literally everything but the stuff I need for school. I promise you, I haven’t even noticed that a week passed already. Apart from that, I’m very impatient which stands in my way very often. I also always neglect my writing schedule for other things. Also math. I am terrible at math.

Something you excel at:

Doubting myself and being an insecure mess xD

Something you love: 

My cats, my friends, my Partner, my comfort food, my comfort games, books (But I don’t get to read very often atm), travelling, amusement parks

Something you could talk about for hours without off the cuff:

Dragon Age, Doctor Who, my job, food, Tv series I like, London, stuff that annoys me

Something you hate:

Everything that goes against human rights, late trains and busses (Germany got that a lot, unfortunately), injustice, fish

Something you collect:

Books and Merch <3

Something you forget:

Almost everything.

What's your love language? 

buying treats/food my partner likes

Favorite movie/show: 

Crimson Peak by Guillermo del Toro

Favorite food: 

Cottage Pie, Sunday Roast, Bolognese

Favorite animal: 

Bats! <3

Are you musical? 

I love to sing and dance, but I’m not very good at singing xD Never learned an instrument yet, but it’s never too late to find out.

What were you like as a child? 

shy and weird. 

Favorite subject at school? 

Languages in general (German which is my Native language but the grammar is horrible, English and French)

Least favorite subject? 

Math, PE, Geography

What's your best character trait?

I’m loyal to friends, some people think I’m funny. Can’t think of more.

What's your worst character trait? 

I’m unfortunately not very good at listening, because my brain always gets unfocused (Not intentionally, I swear!), and I am very stubborn and impatient.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?

I would like to be done with my exam, but apart from that… maybe turn time to spring? I dunno.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet?

Edgar Allan Poe!

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics Unfortunately I don’t get to read much atm because I’m busy with school or writing myself and I always have to pick what to do. So when I read, I am currently reading books. But please feel free to spam me with fanfictions! tagging: @celemee, @fiannans and everyone else who sees this on my dash!

[hanbindans]

zerobaseone as IB students (headcanons)

some fun headcanons for my fellow students. please take these with a grain of salt, obviously I don't know them personally and these are just meant to be fun :) word count: 1.1 k (ca 140 for each) a/n: this is for a very niche target audience but it makes sense in MY head. also I have exams in less than 2 weeks so this is kind of representative of where my mind is at rn. and PSA if you're also an IB student please don't actually skip TOK <3

jiwoong

what's that?? "he's a 24 year old man, it's been years since he completed high school??" sorry I can't hear you too well I'll just go ahead and write this headcanon anyway <3

he's such a drama kid and he would take it even in IB, so theatre and korean lit would be his HLs

I feel like he would take bio and psych sl purely out of curiosity and then immediately regret it when he realizes how much content there is (but would be really good at psych)

aa sl!!! no particular reason tbh I just think he's kind of smart

doesn't understand tok. like...... at ALL. is saved by the fact that his psychology EE is pretty good because he pretty much flunks tok miserably

CAS defender because "guys it builds character I think it's great that we all do volunteer work :))" bless his heart

hanbin

7 subjects :)

is good at tok probably

genuinely puts SO much time and effort into his cas and regrets it in the end but it looks cool on his resumé

psychology and korean lit HL, probably takes VA too but maybe as sl. he gives such lit vibes I feel like he would totally be a literature kid

chinese ab!!!! and maybe ESS because he can and doesn't like science <3

AI SL just because he's so social science but he gets 6s and 7s because it's too easy for him <3

basically he's all the social science subjects but because they're FUN not because they're easy :)

shares notes and study resources in the class group chat because he's cool like that

zhang hao

science kid

HL math AA, geography, and maybe chem or bio. maybe takes physics SL too.

definitely chinese lang/lit and korean ab (he could definitely do korean B but he can't be bothered)

you won't catch him anywhere without a comically large energy drink

completely numbed on the inside but also puts more effort in than everyone else and gets straight 7's

skips tok though because he can't be asked

does his EE on a very niche obsession of his and it gets a really good grade but he puts way too much effort into it

everyone wants to learn his ways but he doesn't do study groups because he gets too annoyed lmao. WILL tell juniors chatting in the library to stfu

he will complain about anything and everything any chance he gets but also catch him getting that 45 at the end of the day.

taerae

also science kid but a lot less intense

HL bio, chem, music, SL AA, korean lang/lit and japanese ab

he would complain SO MUCH about group 2 btw he's one of those science kids who really doesn't want to do 2 languages lol

really only cares about music to be honest but does the sciencey subjects because he thinks they're cool and gets pretty good grades

the type to do a hyper specific science IA and spend way too much time on it just for shits and giggles because he likes pouring things into beakers and swirling them

unintentionally does the most for his CAS, like "oh a service??? yeah I've been tutoring guitar for like 6 months does that count" and genuinely fails to see how other people struggle with it

also excells at tok, like genuinely writes an amazing philosophical TOK essay and gets full marks

ironically cares so little about IB but somehow does so well because he genuinely likes his subjects (and has an iq of like 150)

matthew

7 subjects :)

wants to do more languages than he's allowed because he's just built like that, he likes flexing his multilingualism

HL english lang/lit, french B, history. SL AA, bio, chem, psych

is annoyingly good at all his subjects like HOW are you doing all that and remembering everything?? secretly kind of a genius

does the mostest for his IAs for absolutely no reason other than he's just interested in his subjects and wants to do fun projects :)

also genuinely likes CAS for the same reason (play sports feed stray cats, what's not to like?)

super ambitious classmate who is somehow the only one still sane and always happy

encourages everyone before tests and exams like "come on guys we can do it!! :)"

ricky

this is more likely than you think like do you know how many rich international kids do IB??? in an alternate reality he's M23

visual art HL <33

probably business management HL too, but I could see him doing psych as well!! I think he'd enjoy the human relationships option

chinese lang/lit and english B because why do a bilingual diploma and struggle when you could just breeze through english B?????

AI and ESS sl because he cba, he just wants to pass fr.

to be honest he only really cares about visual art (does his EE in it and regrets it every day) and his social science a liiittle bit, other than that he's just doing exactly as much as he needs to pass

super chill classmate though like all IB kids need a Ricky in their class to humble our god complexes

gyubin

IB but because he's an exchange student :') like he didn't even know what IB was when he started it

cramming the night before tests because he can't be asked to dedicate his whole life to studying

actually the nicest classmate though

eng b HL and breezes through it

ESS and AI sl together with ricky (they sit in the back of the class and snack together <3)

also like business management/psychology or something equivalent but he's REALLY good at it and gets easy 7's?? like he will be that 1 kid who has that 1 subject that he's an absolute god at

cries every tok lesson but it's alright

favourite part is ironically CAS because he has an excuse to volunteer at dog shelters and play basketball with his friends :)

gunwook

peak IB child I bet he would take this programme for real

4 hls (economics, psychology, korean lang lit, chemistry)

I have no justification for these subjects btw I just spat out 4 that I think he would take. he definitely would do 4 HLs though because that's how he rolls

ALSO takes cas very seriously for absolutely no reason

also takes tok SUPER seriously- he will lead class discussions and get into heated debates about stupid shit like if newspeak would work in real life

AA sl and japanese ab because that's just his vibes

kind of overworked but is always helpful and shares notes with his classmates :)

does his EE in economics and ends up getting way too invested in it and becomes obsessed with economic development policies or something niche like that (nerd but affectionately <3)

very stressed and overworked but he WILL get those grades at the end of the day <33

[kavehnanginto]

encounter

08: manipulate, mansplain, malewife

You didn't know how exactly you manage to be in this situation.

"I am not going to do that." I argued back to the stoic man behind my back.

"Yes you will."

It has been three hours in this goddamn library and both of you can't stand to reach an agreement. Not that you had any choice in thid matter, he knows that and you do to, but let's pretend you do.

"I'm not going back there." I promised at his face and he didn't even bother to answer. He's so mean and bad and ughh... kinda hot.

"And I'm going to tell everybody."

"Blackmail is a crime remember."

"Not when your reputation's already in the depths of hell." He faced you and saw how confused and persistant you are regarding this issue. In truth he didn't actually bother to say what happened between the both of you, and he didn't know why people made such a big deal regarding what happened.

But Alhaitham usually adjusts in the environment he is in. Whether it be the slipper situation regarding his thesis or your hole. He had no problem coming up on top.

"I would rather die than see his stupid blond hair. Do you know how that guy talks it's worse than you! And that's the worst insult I can ever make to him." Inching closer to his ear you whispered.

"But you were better in bed."

And for the very first time you saw him fume in anger, I mean blush in heat.

"Look if you really don't want to the deal is off."

"Do I get to fuck you again?" And now you start like the stereotypical whore people could've associated with if you listend to Scaramouche's advice. "No right. Anyways you rarely talk with your blond hottie so of course I also dont."

Alhaitham might kill you but you will never ever go back to Mondstadt again. And not in that stupid fucking laboratory where he mystically decided you would make an excellent english major.

Albedo kinda ruined your life there, but hey he was a good kisser.

"I'll let you copy off my quiz in the exam...."

Goddammit.

encounter: prev. masterlist. next.

alhaitham x reader smau

synopsis: after alhaitham accepted to tutor his token dumb classmate, the whole school started rumors and gossip to the unknown reason as to why while you were stuck dealing with him after that embarrassing encounter.

taglist: @annathea-annoona @aixaingela @mimihwgsajjs @no3hg3nshin @winterpein @crowbird @aloversoath @liminalimmortal @mochicurls21 @jjkclub @sukunasrealgf

note: very short but im also very busy so so sorry hope you enjoy still

[andiesguidetotestprep]

How I Prepare for a Test

Hi, my name is Andie and my goal is to help average students get into their dream colleges by becoming excellent test takers.

Preparing for an exam is hard, especially when you have really only done enough so far to submit assignments worry-free of getting a 0. Maybe you're averaging 80's and 90's with a few 70's sprinkled in there. Or maybe you're averaging 70's and 80's with a few 90's sprinkled in there. No matter which group you fall into, if you're going to be ready by exam day and score higher than you've averaged so far on class assignments, you're going to need to prepare.

Preparation comes down to doing the work repeatedly with quality feedback. If you're in a math class and you find yourself struggling to complete the homework each night, you've probably been tempted to use Symbolab or Mathway to do your calculations for you. Or, maybe you're in an English class and you've really been struggling to improve your writing and you've been tempted a time or two to let ChatGPT do its thing.

If this is you, that's okay. That was me too. Now, I'm not going to tell you what you should be doing (or shouldn't) that's for you to decide. I'm just going to tell you what's been working for me to improve my understanding and scores in class.

Step One:

Make a plan of action. This is the easy part because there is so much information out there that can tell you how to build the best study plan for your personality/situation/zodiac. I'm going to give you a quick overview for how I built my study plan, but if you're interested in learning more (in depth) on how to build an exam ready study plan, drop a comment below or send me an ask to let me know you're interested.

The way I used to build my study plan was by identifying what I knew I didn't know, how much time I had to learn it, and how much of it was bound to be on the exam. After I figured out as much as I could about those factors, then I made a timetable for what to practice each day. Following that, I went online and put together a bunch of practice problems and tried to do as many of them as possible.

This sounds great in theory, but it's a lot of unnecessary work that doesn't necessarily lead to the result you want. For one, it's hard to gauge how many questions of one topic will be on an exam. Even if your teacher points out a particular topic or chapter as important, it doesn't mean it will be all over your exam. One time, I was studying for a calculus exam and spent so much time reviewing improper integrals because I wasn't too confident on the topic and our teacher had mentioned in class that it was one of the more important chapters know. So, I went online and found a bunch of improper integral questions to practice. When it came time for the exam, there ended up being only one question on the exam related to improper integrals!

And, to add insult to injury, after the exam he mentioned offhandedly in class that all of our exam questions were taken directly from our homework. Those little facts changed how I decided to approach studying moving forward.

Now, I focus on the homework problems, extra practice worksheet problems, and study guide problems my teacher gives us. And the way I plan to study is by deciding how much time each day I'm going to work on those practice problems.

Step Two:

Find a way to stay accountable. I found a fun way to do this was by creating a study stream. For a while, every time I needed to study, I would stream the session on youtube. I made sure my camera could capture my computer screen, notebook, and me. Then, I placed my phone across the room (or you can record using your phone) and that keeps you from using your phone.

Step Three:

Get in the reps (repetition). The last part is notably the hardest part because you just have to do the difficult and sometimes mundane work. I use the practice questions I gathered in step one, set up my accountability system from step two, and get to work! Setting yourself a timer is a great reminder that this will eventually come to an end, and always helped motivate me to stay focused. Also, I found that starting as early in the day as possible (for me it was around 6 am) worked best, because I could do it before my day truly began.

If you're using this to help figure out how you can prepare for your upcoming exam, I hope you found value in this article. If you did, please like it and share with a friend! And, I would love to hear what topics you would like for me to cover next!

Good Luck,

Andie

[fat-fuck-hairy-belly]

I've learned this principle(?) when I graduated high school. Our school taught English as a foreign language, and it was infact a kinda prestigious school that specialized in teaching foreign languages. At the end of every term we would be graded through what we called "topics". What it was supposed to be and started as is a pretty good idea - throughout the term you'd work on vocabulary, learn phrases and expressions used in everyday life or in specific topics/situations, and at the end of term you would draw a random paper from a box that would have some topic relating to what you learned throughout the term and you would give a sort of stand-up speech on that topic, and answer a couple of question to have a short conversation with the teacher, all in English obviously. A pretty good system in my opinion. Except what it devolved into by the time I was in school is that at the start of the term we'd be given prewritten texts on these topics that will be at the end of term exam, and we'd have to memorize and recite all of them, and then at the end of term exam we'd draw one of those topics and we would be graded on how well we can recite them. You couldn't just adlib, any paraphrasing or deviation is a hit to your grade, forgetting sentences could outright fail you and you'd have to retake the exam. I hope you can see the problem with this way of "teaching" a language.

Throughout all the 11 years of school my English grades were abysmal, I was barely scraping by with 5s and 6s (we are graded on 1 to 10 scale in Belarus, with 5 being unofficially considered a barely passing grade). I knew English better than anyone in my grade, I was playing games in English, I was reading books in English, I was watching movies, listening to music, everything. I was talking in English to people from all over the world on the internet, through text and through voice in Skype. I spoke better English than my damn English teacher. And yet I was barely getting a passing grade in my English class, because the whole system was setup to "excel at what it measures".

What made it all even more stupid is that at the end of high school you have to do graduation exams, which are conducted by the Ministry of Education with people coming in from outside the school to setup and oversee them. And the English exam ther is actually conducted properly how it was envisioned initially. Of course the school still give you prewritten texts that you can just memorise and recite, but you still have to actually have a conversation with the examiner and it plays a huge role in determining your final grade. The feeling of walking out of that exam with a 10 after years and years of teaching telling me how bad of a student I am, while all the "perfect" students who can't string 2 words in English together come out with 6s and 7s is still one of my happiest memories.

Sorry for the long and only kinda-related rant. The way esucation systems all over the world prioritize rote memorization over understanding because of stupid tests is a personal hot button of mine.

Watching the “you will excel at what you measure” trap devour basic moral practice in real time is fascinating in a terrible kind of way

[survivingcollegeonefanficatatime]

Natural disasters chapter 2

I got an 86% on this exam let's goooo

Ok heads up this chapter includes the first section about volcanoes, a lot of volcanic terminology is based on Hawaii and includes Hawaiian terminology. Like all real-word specific terminology I was not sure whether or not to leave it (and sorta imply Hawaii exists in star wars) or change it. I decided to leave it for a few reasons.

If that bothers you 1) why are you reading this

2) it’s very much a “they don’t even have france” situation where there are ALREADY things in star wars that sort of imply real-world places or concepts exist. A good example is Tea, in the real world “tea” is very specifically created from the Camellia sinensis plant. Something NOT made of this plant is called an herbal tea (sometimes it’s called a tisane but my tea snob friend tells me a tisane is actually created from mixing the Camellia plant with any other thing in a brew (so infused teas or flavored teas are often tisanes) and a non-camellia plant brew is an herbal) so that means Tea in star wars is either made from the real-life camellia plant, or more likely there’s a sci fi version of that plant OR “tea” is a generic term for something you put in hot water and brew, which would make the most sense as I doubt the same goddamn plant grows on every planet that has tea. 

So, whether or not sci-fi Hawaii exists, I’m putting it in here. If it bothers you, just do the talking thing and say “oh well canonically they’re not speaking english they’re speaking basic so obviously the whole thing is TRANSLATED into english and that explains anything that shouldn’t exist”

“Master Obi-Wan! Master Obi-Wan” Anakin shouted as he ran down the hall.

“What is it, little one?” asked the master in question.

“I passed my exam! Remember the natural disaster’s class you helped me study for? I just had my exam and I passed it!” 

“I’m so proud, my dear, I’m very glad our method worked, we’ll have to try it again before your next exam.” Obi-Wan said.

“Promis?” Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan nodded as the two wondered how to start the rest of their day.

Anakin couldn’t help but be excited the next time his natural disasters exam approached. Obi-Wan had promised to study with him. He had already gathered up all his study materials onto a ‘pad and all he had to do was wait for Obi-Wan to be finished with whatever paperwork he’d been working on. 

When Obi0Wan had finished, Anakin walked right up and presented his datapad “my next exam is in a few days” the boy admitted. Obi-Wan smiled and took the pad to examine the material on it. 

“Well, then we’d better get studying?” Obi-Wan said he spent a few minutes examining the material Anakin had given him. “Alright, there are three modules this time around, so let’s start with Volcanos, shall we?”

“Yeah, it builds of what we were talking about last exam anyways, Volcanoes are closely related to plate tectonics, which means they often occur along fault lines, but not always” 

“Very good Anakin, can you tell me the difference between lava and magma?” 

“Of corc, master, Lava is what it’s called when it’s on the surface, and magma is beneath the surface. And a volcanic vent is the opening at the surface that lasva and other stuff comes from.”

“Good job and you know that the outer core of most planets is liquid but other layers are solid, so what does that mean for volcanoes?”

“It means the magma comes from the outer core, and also the asthenosphere is weak so it can flow slowly because it’s near melting temperature, it can melt rapidly and then the melts will rise and collect with changes in temperature and stuff.”

“Excellent anikin, can you tell me the three melting processes?” 

“Decompression, addition of volatiles or addition of heat!” Anakin declared. He paused to think for a minute before conditioning “decompression melting happens when the pressure of overlying rock decreases and the rocks will melt even though the pressure stays the same. And adding volatiles is when you add chemical compounds that evaporate easily and lower the melting point by breaking chemical bonds. It’s important when it's added as a fluid to rocks. And adding heat is fairly self explanatory. It happens when surrounding rocks melt and rise or when stuff just metals and mixes, basically as long as something increases heat it will cause this.”

“That’s a very good explanation Ani, did you know magma is made of melted silicate rocks and siloved glass?”

“Yes, I did master, and there’s two types right, basaltic and rhyolitic, I don't remember what the details of them are.”

“Oh, well, basaltic magma has a lower silica content, and has magnesium and iron in its composition, it’s created via the melting of the asthenosphere. Whereas Rhyolitic magmas have a higher silica content, and are felsic, a mix of feldspar and silica, they're made via the mixing of continental crustal materials.”

“Oh, tat makes sense” Anakin said, 

“The next thing to cover is buoyancy where magma is less dense and will rise though the crust, before collecting near the surface in magma chambers. Magame can also evolve with crustal assimilation along the way or within the chapter where the magam will become more felsic, do you remember what felstic means?”

“Oh, we just went over it, Felstic means a mix of feldspar and silica right?”

“Very good little one, there are three properties of manga that start with a V, can you tell me what they are?” 

“Uh, viscosity, volatile content and volume. I remember what they are too, viscosity is the resistance to flow of a fluid, so colder magma won’t flow as fast, and it also induces the surface mobility and the velocity of flow and the thickness at the surface. Basaltic lava is less viscous and therefore flows a lot  faster, whereas rhyolitic lava is more vicious and flows slower. And volatile content is the concentration of uh dissolved volatiles, volatiles can cause explosive eruptions of the magma which is a big explosion. The amount of volatile content increases with silicon content so andesitic rhyolitic magma has more dissolved glass and makes explosive eruptions where basaltic magma has less dissolved gas and makes effusive eruptions that also affects pyroclastic debris. All types of volcanic materials which are explosively ejected from a volcano. The last V is volume and it’s the important fraction of how much a volcano affects the surrounding environment.”

“That was a lot of information, good job And. There are a lot of variations in volcanos, including size, shape , composition and how they erupt; these factors are determined by the three Vs of volcanism. On top of this eruptive behavior is classified and can most often be predicted by analyzing the behavior of previous eruptions, there’s an index for this, it’s called the volcanic explosivity index or the VEIL, which is a relative scale to allow people to compare different eruptions based on the height of the explicitly and the volume of the material ejected. There’s a few types of volcanoes, one is a stratovolcano, can you tell me more about it?”

“It’s a cone shape, and has a variety of lava compositions, and high viscosity magma builds the height of the volcano when it coles, and it’s composed of pyroclastic debris and effusive lava flows, they have a high water content and are typically the most common volcanic eruptions, especially on a planet like Alderan where 80% of explosions are this kind.”

“Perfect my dear. Can you tell me about a lava dome?”

“Yes master! A lava dome is smaller and it’s dome shaped, they typically form independently or in a vent of a stratovolcano. They have highly viscous felsic magma and don’t have a whole lot of volatile content.” 

“Excellent, and shield volcanoes?”

“They’re some of the largest volcanoes and have wide low angled slopes, they’re frequently on islands and common at hotspots in oceanic crust and plate boundaries. The vent is usually in a collapsed caldera. They have a few common types of eruptions: Hawaiian type which are effusive and normally passive, Icelandic type which are generally effusive, and volcanion type which is an explosive basaltic eruption which happens when magma is in contact with groundwater, or ice, or snow.” 

“Very good Anakin, can you tell me about cinder cones?”

“Yes master a cinder cone is a pretty small pile of tephra near a volcanic vent, they’re conical because of the pilining of scoria, and scoria is the name for vesicular mafic volcanic rock type of cinder condes they are common on the flanks of bigger volcanos, or faults or fissure.” 

“Excellent, now continental caldera”

“Oh!” Anakin announced “those are the ones made from the collapse of land stufice or when a volcano follows a partial emptying of a chamber. They have explosive releases of magma and other stuff, and they’re the largest and most destructive eruptions so they’re fairly rare on most planets, right master?”

“Correct, is there anything else you know about them?”

Anakin hesitated for a moment to think, then his eyes lit up and he proudly continued “large caldera eruptions are called ultra-plinian which is a totally wizard way to call it, they’re huge destructive explosions that shove materials super high into the sky, and they release up to 100 km^3 of pyroclastic debris. They make ash deposits of 100 m thick near the rim and are still over a meter thick 100 km away! Isn’t that insane?”

“Yes it is-”

Before Obi-Wan could continue, Anakin interrupted to continue his explanation of continental calderas “super big caldera eruptions are known as super-volcanic! Like the super volcano on Alderan, they’re far bigger than the ultra plinian! And the super volcanic eruptions have rhyolitic magma and a lot of volatiles; they're often at continental hotspots and can eject between 1000 and 2000 km^3 of volcanic ash and make calderas hundreds of miles wide!”

“Excellent, you know a lot about this”

“Thank you, master”

“The next topic is about regions that are at risk, places like rings of fire that form on many volcanically active planets. Divergent plate boundaries, rift zones, and other hotspots”

“Master, how would a planet that’s mostly made of volcanoes work”

“What a good question, I’m afraid I don’t know off the top of my head tell you what, little one, I’ll do some research after we finish today's study sheshion, and we can talk about it after your exam”

“Wizard! Thank you master.”

“Your welcome, dear heart. Now, we should continue, can you explain the primary and secondary effects of eruptions?”

“Yes! Primary effects are lava flows, ash fall, pyroclastic flows, volcanic blasts and gasses. Stuff that happens directly because of the eruption, and secondary effects are more incidental, debris flow, mudflows, landslides, debris, avalanches, floods, fires, tsunami’s and short term planetary cooling!” 

“Very good! And what are the different types of lava flows?”

“Oh! There’s Pahoehoe where the lava is smooth and sorta ropey at the surface, and then there’s A’a which has a blocked fractured surface, there are others like block lava and pillow lava but Pahoehoe and A’a are the big ones for this class. Are we going over all the primary effects?”

“Yes, we are.” Obi-Wan said as he scrolled to the next section of the class

“Ok, the next one is pyroclastic activity right?” at Obi-Wan’s nodd Anakin continued “pyro means fire and klastos is broken, so it’s bits of magma and rock that flows back down to the planet, they can be super dangerous. Tephra are pyroclastic debris that range in size from sand sized to big angular block and smoothed bombs, they’re called bombs isn’t that crazy?” Anakin didn’t wait to see his master's reaction “ash fall is the well ash from explosive fragmentation, and pyroclastic flows are when hot ash races down the sides of the volcano and burns everything in their path! It’s super dangerous! Then there’s ash fall which can cover hundreds or thousands of  square KM downwind from the eruption, the thickness is controlled by the distance and it smoothies crops, vegetation and can starve the environment, the contamination of surface waters increases the acidity and among of toxic stuff in the water, and it irritates eyes lungs, and can be a hazard if it gets in an engine. The pyroclastic flows are one of the most deadly parts of an eruption and they’re triggered by collapses in lava domes and lateral blasts, they move fast and are unpredictable. Gasses in flows can be absurdly hot! Like 1000 C and can burn everything in its path. They’ve killed more people than any other volcanic hazard, or at least that's how it is on most planets.”

Anakin took a deep breath, then he grinned at is master and continued to reside information “ten there’s poisonous gasses often released from the eruption, some of the gasses in most eruptions are water vapor and carbon dioxide, but there’s also carbon monoxide, sulfur dioxide, and hydrogen sulfide. Gasses in sufficient concentrations can be direct health hazards. And sulfur dioxide forms acid raine downwind which effects vegetation, surface waters and leaching of heavy metals, steam from the lava cooling in the ocean also has hydrogen chlorine gas which is corrosive and volcanic glasses also contain other dangerous substances like hydrogen fluoride which can posen vegetation which is a problem for farms”

“Very good, now we’re onto secondary effects, like debris flows and mudflows, how much do you know about them?” Obi-Wan asked

“Plenty, I know that lahar is a general term for debris flows or mudflows from volcanic eruptions. They’re generally low temperatures but can be hot compared to the environment, they flow like water, debris flows have more than half the particles larger than sand-sized, and mudflows have finer materials and can have big landscape impacts, they clog drainage and sweep away structures.”

“And landslides?”

“They’re often triggered by the eruption or other stuff like changes in moisture slow loading or when a volcano bulges, they often release sufficient pressure and can allow sudden explosive eruptions to happen, and if they happen near a coastline they can cause tsunamis!!”

“They can, and planets with a high amount of islands also often have a large amount of volcanoes, which makes the risk of volcanic damage and tsunamis especially high for the local population.”

“I hadn't thought of it like that” Anakin admitted “but there’s some good things volcanoes do, right?”

“Yes, Anakin, there’s several benefits to volcanic eruptions, for one volcanic soils are immensely neuterent rich, and well drained, although they can take quite a bit of time to develop. Geothermal power can be harnessed from volcanically active areas, volcanic rocks provide pumice, and aggregate which are materials widely used on countless planets. They are also recreational attractions, and can provide the formation of new land.”

“Wow, that’s a lot, but how can they be recreational attractions if they’re so dangerous?”

“Good question, little one, first there is a large number of beings who rather enjoy visiting dangerous areas, second it is possible to know which volcanoes might be dangerous and which ones are more of spectacle, but to do that we must reduce the risk of volcanic hazards, do you know how that’s done?”

“Yes, master, we have to forecast which means studying specific eruptions and a lot of planets just don’t have the experience, we have to monitor seismic cavity and thermal magnetic and hydraulic conditions, and the land surface to detect swelling or tilting. And volcanic gas emissions and we have to study the geologic history of a volcano! And even then the warnings are mostly probability, so there’s a lot that could go wrong” 

“Correct, and it’s not always possible for people to move away, sometimes they’re born there and don’t have the money to move, or the land is fertile for work and farming, or they’re optimistic and don’t think an errupton would happen, or there’s other economic reasons” 

Anakin nodded in understanding. 

“Alright, that was everything about volcanoes, we’re one third of the way through, now we’re onto flooding”

Anakin nodded sagely, “water is a lot scarier than I thought it was” he declared with his little arms crossed over his chest. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh and ruffle the little one’s hair.

“That it is, my dear, I think many sentients vastly underestimate the destructive power of water, but it, like so much of the galaxy, is capable of being a force for good, healing, and life just as much as a force for death and destruction.” 

Anakin thought for a moment “that makes sense, so we’re going to talk about flooding now?”

“Yes my dear, do you remember the water cycle?”

“Yes master, water evaporates and then moves and condenses and rains or is collected some other way, but it can also be taken in by planets or in the ground.” Anakin explained, and Obi-Wan nodded 

“Alright, so let’s talk rivers, surface drainage is water that’s not evaporated or taken up another way, it collects in tributaries and feeds rivers and streams. There’s a drainage basin that’s the defined surface area cooling app precipitation into the same surface drainage. Rivers also have a gradient which is an important factor for flow. Headwaters tend to have steeper gradients and are faster where the mouths of rivers have shallower gradients with more gradual flows. The base level is the lowest point a stream reaches during its flow. Below that level it cannot erode. The ultimate base level is the ocean and the local base level is a temporary base level limiting the erosion of local streams. So do you know some of the functions of rivers?”

“Rivers transport materials! And there's some stuff in solution which is dissolved and load derived from chemical weathering of materials, the suspended load is fine grained materials held aloft in the turbulent flow, and the bed load is coase material dragged, slid and bounced along the bed. There’s stuff that affects what can be transported right?”

“Yes, Anakin, things like discharge, which is the amount of water moving through a cross section and can be measured at Q=VA the competency is the ability of a river to move particle of a given size, the capacity of a river is the total amount of material a river can move and the streamflow tends to expand the volume and tends to increase while decreasing in velocity as a river approaches its mouth. Slowing water allows suspended lairs to be gradually deposited by size, and distributaries are multiple channels that a river breaks into as it forms.” 

“Oh right, uhhh what was the next topic again?”

“Chanel patterns and floodplain formation, like aggradation, degradation, and stream channels, do you want to tell me about them?”

“I can do that! Aggradation is the deposition of sediment events occurring at slower velocities, they decrease capacity and competency, and degradation is the removal of sediments at faster velocities which increases capacity and competency. Then stream channels are the well channels of the streams, braided channels are interconnecting channels formed with variable steamflow, and meandering refers to a single winding channel that migraines back and forth. The undercut bank is a degradation feature on the outside of bend, it also has stuff like the point bar, and pools and rifles, a point bar is an aggadation feature on the inside of a bend due to low velocity. So the inside of a bend has lower velocity than the outside and this makes a specific shape in the river. A pool is a deep area made by the scouring of segments and riffles are shallow areas formed by sediments depoposed.”

“Very good, Anakin, river systems are divided into zones, the zone of production, the zone of transportation, and the zone of deposition. Can you tell me about them?”

“Yes master! The zone of production has a steep gradient, it flows fast and has down cutting which results in steep v shaped valleys and waterfalls and rapids. The zone of transportation is sediment conveyed, which has a broad valley and floodplain, meandering river with both erosion and deposition active. And the zone deposition has a slow flow near base level, sediments are widely deposited, and distributaries at alluvial fans. So the zone of production moves fast and erodes a lot, then the zone of transportation moves sediment and is slower, it’s the part that makes a lot or ifver stuff that looks like a river, and deposition, is the end and the sediments sort of get deposited and the river ends.” 

“Yes, riverbanks can overflow when floods happen, the rate of soil infiltration and the amount of soil moisture already in the soil, the rate of runoff reaching the river and the effect of spring snowball effect the amount of water in a drainage basin. There's a few terms to know, flood discharge which is the amount of discharge of a stream when water overflows the banks, stage which is the height of the water in the river, and the hydrograph which is a graph that displays the discharge or water depths/stage over time.” Obi-Wan explained, Anakin nodded and Obi-wan continued “it’s possible to do flood calculations, R is the recurrence interval in years and large floods are caused by infrequent large intense storms so R = (N+1)/M so to understand flood we need to monitor rivers for extended periods of time. Now, onto floods, can you tell me about zone 1 floods my dear?”

Anakin nodded “flash floods are overbank flow from a rapid increase in stream discharge. They’re most common in upper drainage basins and small downstream tributaries. They’re made from brief and strong precipitation over small areas, and they often happen in arid climates, they happen a lot in some deserts, isn’t that crazy!” 

“There are so many different ways for nature to exist. Can you tell me about zone 2 floods?”

“Oh those are big ones right? They can cover large areas and are made by long, long storms. The flood crest is the peak high of the floodwaters that migrates downstream over the course of a flood event and they damage buildings and industrial plants and farms and all sorts of stuff” 

“Yes, and zone 3 floods?”

“That’s when alluvial fans flood, they’re dangerous because they’re uncertain and the end of a river can change and high water times can make sudden shifts in river channels. Distributaries are the complex of changes emerging from a single river.”

“Excellent job, Anakin, can you tell me the primary and secondary effects of a flood?” 

“Of course master, primary effects are injuries, death and damages to structures and other resources like cropland, secondary effects are pollution of rivers, hunger and disease, displacement of people and longer term erosion. Floods can also be the primary effect of other hazards, like a hurricane or a secondary hazard like in an earthquake.”

“And do floods have natural benefits, Anakin?”

“Yes! They can make more fertile land, and can clear debris out of aquatic ecosystems and supply sediments to places that need it.” 

“Good job, and there are a lot of things people can do to rivers that will affect flooding, urbanization can alter the landscape drastically, damming rivers can lead to a buildup of sediments, which can occasionally destroy rivers and require the damn to be taken down, we can also modify rivers like chanalization which straghents and depends rivers to make them move faster although this can also damage the natural environment. Chanel reputation is what happens when we want to make these rivers move more naturally again. How can we protect people from floods, Anakin?”

‘We can use institutional stuff like mapping flood prone areas, and adopting floodplain management plans, or we can educate people by warning them of the dangers of floods.” 

Anakin nodded, he yawned, growing tired of the information he was going over. 

“Only one more section, my love. Mass wasting.” Obi-Wan said.

“Oh! Mass wasting is super cool, it’s rocks! And they move, and it’s called Mass wasting, isn’t that cool.” 

“It’s very cool dear one.”

Anakin didn’t wait for his master to speak, excited to share his knowledge “there are different parts of a slope. The waxing slope is the steep top part, then there’s the talus slope in the middle, and the waning slope which is the shallower part at the end. The direct effects of mass wasting are deaths, property damage, blocked transportation, and impacts to utilities, the indirect effects are blocking a river or tsunamis! And there’s a few classes of mass wasting, like falls, slides and scarification.”

“Almost all mass wasting effects are directly affected by water, did you know that, little one?”

“Yes, master, I did! There are big dramatic mass wasting events like landslides, and then there’s little ones like soil creep where the soil slowly creeps down a slope, it’s subtle but this one of the most damaging types of mass wasting because it’s strong and persistent.” 

“That is an excellent point dear one, can you tell me what sarafication is?”

“Oh that’s easy, Scarification is any sentient induced mass movement!” 

“Good, and the forces involved in mass wasting events?”

“Resisting forces which help resist the movement of materials, driving forces like the download weight, and they’re determined by the types of materials, the slope, the climate, the vegiation, water and time! Material is super important, there's a thing called daylighting beds which are the beds exposed to daylight, and they’re planes of weakness, bedding planes are surfaces between layers in sedimentary rocks, and foliation planes are between metamorphic rocks. Water controls slip a lot of the time.”

Obi-Wan smiled down at Anakin, he adjusted the pad he was reading off and began speaking again “the type of slope material is on greatly affects the mass wasting event, reliefs are vertical elevations, and steeper slopes in higher reliefs are associated with rock falls avalances and soil slips. Long term climate also affects the type of event, arid climates are exposed to physical weathering where human climates have chemical weathering.”

“That makes sense master, oh! Landslides are related to almost all the other hazards, right?” the little one asked, Obi-Wan nodded. 

“What are the functions of mass wasting events?”

“They diversify the environment, and establish new habitats, and they transport large amounts of material to expose rocks and minerals to additional weathering.” 

“Excellent job Anakin, and how do we minimize landslide effects?”

“Oh there’s a multi-step approach, where we identify potential landslides, prevent landsliding where possible, warn people of impending slides, and control slides after failure. But it’s hard to know when they’re going to happen without a lot of research, even so places that get a lot of landslides are REALLY good at it, my teacher showed us a video where they’d marked out the exact location a landslide would happen and they were super accurate, it was really impressive.”

“I’d imagine that’s very impressive, and the final section, snow avalanches, can you tell me about those?” 

“Oh they’re the rapid downslope movement of snow, and most of the ones that kill people are triggered by the victims. They happen on slopes steeper than 25 degrees but not above 50-60 degrees. Most happen at 35-40 degrees. There’s a few types, loose snow avalanches which are loose snow that eventually widens as it moves downslope, and slab avalanches which start as a big block of snow and moves downslope, they’re much more dangerous and happen when slopes are overloaded or when weak zones develop in a snowpack.”

“And how do weak layers form?”

“They form between storm periods when skies are clear and temperatures are cold, they have surface har forms when frozen dew is deposited, or near surface facets when there is a temperature gradient in the snow then there’s depth hoar delopes when the temperature granden and the snow is shallow.”

“Yes, and victims need to be rescued fast, 92% of victims survive when only buried for 15 minutes, but after 35 minutes only 30% survive, after an hour that number is down to 20% and after two hours there were no more survivors, this might not be universal as this was taken from a specific large avalanche event on a planet with mostly human and near human victims, but victims must be rescued as soon as possible.”

“Yes master, and there’s equipment to help, like bags with airbags in them, or shovels, or big long sticks, or beaks that alert others to your location. Our teacher showed us one of those beacons, they’re wizards!” 

“Excellent, and that’s everything you need for this exam.” 

Anakin beamed “thank you for the help, master!”

Note: ok yea I forgot that Naboo has a bullshit ‘water core’ thing so it can't have volcanoes??? (several questions, 0 answers) so I guess I’m using Alderan as my example planet again, rather than Naboo, that said, I’ll die on the hill that Naboo 100% has a history of fracking and/or environmental destruction. Like idk, something about Naboo makes me want to make them so much worse than they’re presented but like in a fun way. Naboo deserves to be a little unhinged. Full of people who genuinely want to do good, one evil dictator and several queens who are borderline babies. Incomprehensible planet, I want it to be the place where you look at it and think “what an ideal place” and then you learn it has a history of being awful, and they’ve clawed tooth, nail, and claw into a peace

[mbappemira]

I am a disappointment

I am a disappointment, I am a chinese school student my life always have loads of activities and tuition. To achieve excellence as a student is not simply about intelligence or natural talent, it is a result of discipline, hard work, and a genuine passion for learning. I often ace my exams and co-curriculum. 6 years has passed, I enter a malay high school in my city. I've changed 360 degrees, the way I act and the way I talked. I am not a , "Student of Hope" anymore, I'm just a ordinary student, usually during exam's I often said , "I hope I got an A" but now it's just , "I hope I passed". I noticed that I changed but l ignore it as my friends also do the same as we enjoyed our high schools era. The day has come, the day that every student afraid which is "SPM" my friends has started to studying, and I ? still playing around and act like this "SPM" is not a big deal to "us". The big day has come, the exam's has passed I would say I didn't studied hardly like I used to do at my "UPSR" | don't want to think much as my mind keep telling me that ,"you usually ace your exam's remember? you will ace it again, don't worry". 3 month passed, I read thru my exam slip, I ace my English subject but I was stunned by looking all the bad grades that have been written on my exam slip, my mind do the talked again , "It's okay this results still can bring you to another education level" which is Diploma. As I searching for college to level up my education level, I did not match any of their requirement to enter. As my friends have started their journey to college and university, I was at home mentally drained , "How to enter an university or college using this kindresults?" I started to regret about how I did not studied well, I disappoint my parents .

I was a an excellent student? How did I become like this ? My family was proud of me because I am bilingual, now what they should proud of ? My bad results ?

[nel-world]

standup

There are few things that bring my father as much joy as clearance sales.

It's not so much the food that my dad loves at Denny's—he only knows three flavors anyway: salt, butter, and A-1 Steak Sauce. No, what he adores is the simplicity, the straightforwardness of the entire Denny's experience, especially the menu.

“You don’t even have to read anything,” he’d say. “You look at the pictures of the food, you pick what you want, and you point.” And that’s precisely what he does. We'd settle at a table in Denny's, he'd crack open the menu to a Moons Over My Hammy or whatever caught his fancy, and he'd point. “I want that.” Not a word more, not a word less. It's the perfect restaurant routine.

we bought couch

So, off we went, driving at a snail's pace—twenty miles per hour in a forty-five-mile-per-hour zone. The officer followed my dad quietly for a few miles before my father suddenly pulled over, even though the officer hadn't signaled with lights or sirens. I followed suit.

After the officer wrote us both tickets for having unsafe loads, he warned us not to drive with the furniture again or risk getting more tickets. Stuck on the side of the road, my dad asked if I knew anyone with a truck. That was like asking if I knew anyone at all.

offer to buy one and get the other for half price , my father was first in line.

his ability to consume knew no bounds.his favorite was chocolate pean with extra sprinkles

when i orderd plan old chocolate icecream , he took it as an insult

they have thirty two flavors andu order chocaloate

u can get chocolate anywhere , why did we come to america

we didnt sacrifice everything come to here so u could be satisfied with plain old chocolate ice cream

i just want medium soda

get the large

u get extra large for thirty nine cents more

America was Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory and he was a ten-year-old who had won a golden ticket.

Let me tell you what is really embarrassing,” he continued. “Having only one pair of shoes, that’s embarrassing. Having to study for your exams under a street lamp because you don’t have your own room, that’s embarrassing. Hanging off the side of a train on your way to work because it’s so crowded and you can’t afford a seat, that’s embarrassing.”

Yellow highlight | Page: 57

“When will you become an American?” he continued. “Okay, pour the extra thirty-nine cents-worth into a cup and I will drink it later.”

I don’t know where my dad learns how to hail strangers, but whenever he needs directions—which is often—he flags down men and women alike with the same greeting: “Hey, bud!” I grew up thinking of all Americans as Bud—and even though my dad’s name is Ghassan Saleh Abu-Jaber, he became the original Bud. I learned early: We were Arab at home and American on the streets. The streets were where Bud spoke English in a loud voice, swaggered, and wore hard-soled shoes.

Bud is a great talker in our family of mostly listeners. He’d soliloquize about the Arab-Israeli conflict, free will versus destiny, and the meaning of the universe. He'd tell endless jokes and stories starring his favorite Arab character—Jeha the joker.

One day, Bud announced he found the perfect restaurant to buy. “Excellent location, good foot traffic, loyal clientele,” he’d say. The current owner was selling because he and his wife—the head chef—were divorcing. Bud was ecstatic, describing his dream: “I’ll be in back, creating! You and your sisters will be out front, taking orders and making the customers happy.” He sat back, studying the ceiling. “It’s going to be running together like this—”

According to Bud, this restaurant would be a Shangri-la, healing the old wound between East and West. All languages would be spoken, all religions honored, and the food would be pure and true. He’d say, “You see this bamia?” holding up a chunk of okra stewed in tomato. “Americans are nervous with bamia because they fear the slime. You know how to take away the slime?” We shook our heads. “You have to boil it good first and then fry it! Sometimes you reverse it. How many people know that?” We marveled. “When we get our restaurant,” he’d say, “it will be full of secrets like this.”

There were weeks and months of debates, schemes, and outlines. The phone rang at all hours. You never knew when you’d lift the receiver to the hiss of the overseas connection. Incredibly, Bud’s relatives were convinced by his plan. Several even promised to buy shares in the place. After much negotiation, they agreed on a signing date.

To celebrate the night before signing the lease, Bud prepared a grand dinner starring a golden chicken msukhan. This traditional Palestinian dish, with chicken nearly poached in olive oil, turned its flesh soft and amber. “Do you see this chicken, girls?” he’d ask as we broke off tender bites. “Do you know what it’s saying to us?” No, what, Dad? “It’s saying, ‘I am more delicious than anything. People will come from everywhere to taste me. I am the queen of all!’” He’d sigh and gaze fondly at the queen.

[saviorsfoundation11]

What is IGCSE and How is it Beneficial for your child?

You may have heard parents telling you, “I enrolled my child to an IGCSE school, making you wonder what IGCSE is and why it is important for your child. Let us tell you what the IGCSE board is and how it prepares your children for a better tomorrow. The International General Certificate of Secondary Education better known as IGCSE is an internationally recognized qualification for school students, typically in the 14-16 age group. Established by the University of Cambridge International Examinations (CIE) in 1988, the IGCSE provides a global benchmark of academic achievement. It is equivalent to the UK’s General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) and is widely adopted in international schools and various national education systems around the world.

What are the key features of the IGCSE board?

1. International Curriculum

One of the most notable features of the IGCSE board is its international curriculum. It is designed to accommodate diverse cultural perspectives and educational needs. The curriculum is flexible and stimulating, allowing students to engage with global-relevance subjects while allowing for local adaptation where necessary.

 2. Wide Range of Subjects

The IGCSE offers a broad array of subjects, ensuring that students can pursue their interests and strengths. Core subjects typically include Mathematics, English, and Sciences, but students can also choose from an extensive list of other subjects such as foreign languages, humanities, and the arts. This variety allows students to tailor their education according to their personal interests and career aspirations.

3. Comprehensive Assessment

Assessment in the IGCSE is varied and designed to measure a wide range of skills. It includes written and oral exams, coursework, and practical assessments. This multi-faceted approach ensures that students are evaluated on their understanding and application of knowledge, critical thinking, and problem-solving abilities. Grades range from A* to G, providing a clear indication of a student's academic performance.

4. Skill Development

The IGCSE places a strong emphasis on the development of critical thinking, problem-solving, and practical skills. Unlike educational systems that may focus heavily on rote memorization, the IGCSE encourages students to understand and apply concepts, fostering a deeper and more comprehensive educational experience.

What are the benefits of the IGCSE for Children

1. Global Recognition

The IGCSE is recognized by universities and employers worldwide, making it an excellent foundation for students who plan to pursue higher education or careers internationally. This recognition means that students with IGCSE qualifications can easily transition into educational systems and job markets around the globe.

 2. Strong Academic Foundation

The rigorous and well-rounded curriculum of the IGCSE provides a strong academic foundation. This is particularly beneficial for students who plan to continue their education with programs like A-Levels, International Baccalaureate (IB), or other equivalent qualifications. A solid grounding in core subjects and skills ensures that students are well-prepared for advanced studies.

 3. Development of Critical Skills

The IGCSE's focus on critical thinking, problem-solving, and practical application of knowledge prepares students to handle real-world challenges. This approach helps in developing intellectual discipline and strong study habits, which are essential for academic and professional success.

 4. Flexibility and Choice

With over 70 subjects available, the IGCSE offers unparalleled flexibility. Students can choose subjects that align with their interests and future career goals, which helps in maintaining their engagement and motivation. This choice also allows students to explore and identify their strengths and passions early on.

 5. Language Proficiency

The IGCSE offers courses in many languages, providing students with the opportunity to become proficient in more than one language. This multilingual capability is increasingly valuable in today’s interconnected world, enhancing communication skills and cultural awareness.

6. Cultural Awareness and Global Perspective

The international nature of the IGCSE curriculum fosters a broader understanding and appreciation of different cultures and global issues. This cultural awareness is crucial in developing well-rounded individuals who are prepared to thrive in diverse environments.

7. Smooth Transition to Higher Education

The skills and knowledge gained through IGCSE courses make the transition to higher education smoother. Students often find themselves better prepared for the demands of university-level coursework, both in terms of subject knowledge and study skills.

The IGCSE Board offers a comprehensive and globally recognized educational framework that prepares students for future success. Its rigorous academic standards, flexible curriculum, and emphasis on critical thinking and practical skills provide numerous benefits. Whether aiming for higher education or entering the workforce, students with an IGCSE qualification are well-equipped to meet the challenges of the modern world. The IGCSE not only imparts academic knowledge but also fosters personal growth, cultural awareness, and a lifelong love for learning.

Visit Us: https://saviorsfoundation.com/

[missspringthyme]

February 27th, 2024

My meeting today got canceled because we were going to do a reading on the Greek girl, but she's sick. It's for the best anyway, I would have definitely been late. Unfortunately, it did mean that I wasted a cute business casual outfit. It's with the blue pants that I really like but have trouble styling for whatever reason. I don't have a lot of tops that go with them, and they're a very specific shade of blue, but I figured out a good look today. Ah well.

I was going to work on my research proposal today, but I'm not feeling enough panic to push me to do it. Instead I spent some more time researching places I can look for jobs when I'm done with my masters and making an application tracker in excel. I also watched the new episode of this show on dropout called VIP, which i love with my entire heart.

While I was doing this, German American was also sat in the living room stressing out because she had her last exam today. At one point, she went to the window and just started flapping her arms, so I made an executive decision. I turned on Sweet Caroline and made her dance with me. My favorite style of dancing is just a lot of jumping, but I feel like it's also a good way to get rid of stress. It did seem to work, but it was also a good reminder that my cardiovascular health is dog shit.

My dad also called me tonight and I brought up the idea of doing a German intensive. He suggested that instead of staying with a random host family, I stay with my actual family. It's a good idea to save money, but I'm a little iffy on the idea for 2 reasons. 1. They always want to practice their English with me 2. It's more embarrassing for me to look my German relatives in the eye and tell them I'm paying money to improve my German. I think I'll probably go back to the US in June, my dad really wants me to come and keeps asking. Honestly, I kinda don't want to, but what can you do. That also made me realize that if I stayed for 2 months then I probably could work a job part time while I finish my thesis and get some money. This then made me realize that my internship from last summer adored me and wanted to have me stay on but couldn't when they learned I wouldn't be staying in the US. They told me if I had time next summer to let them know, so I sent an email. If anyone would be willing to let me be flexible with start/end dates and hours, it'll be the people who I already know adore me. Plus, the internship is remote and super easy. It would be perfect.

So as it currently stands, my plan is June-July US and possibly do an internship to make some money, August come back to Germany, and then august/September do the intensive, September hopefully go to Italy, October graduate. That means that even when my lease ends in August I have places to stay until I graduate, and I continually have things going on. My thesis deadline is the same day my lease ends, so hopefully everything just kinda flows smoothly.

I make money, I finish my thesis, I do the intensive, I lay on a beach in Italy, I get a job and so on. In case you can't tell, I managed to make myself pretty stressed. Time is just moving so quickly and I wish that I had done a 2 year masters. I'm not ready to let any of this go. I'm just really happy here and I'm not getting enough time. I'm scared it would be difficult to find a job in Germany, and I don't want to leave. This is one of the first places that I could actually imagine myself living in for decades. I don't want to go. Most of the best jobs that i can do before my PhD are in the US and i'm so afraid that i'll keep making the easier choices and ill end up stuck. It would make so many people in my life happier if I lived in the US, particularly in Colorado but I can't do it. My parents are in their 60s, my dad is inching closer to 70 everyday and I cant bear the thought of losing him, but he's in Colorado. The only life T has ever known is Colorado, and he loves it there. I'm just not a full person there. I wish I could be happy there, that I could buy a house close to my dad's and have dinners with him and my sort of step mom. I wish that was enough.

There's also something else that's been knocking around in my head. I'm considering pregnancy. Not anytime soon, but my hard stance on never doing it is softening.

The reasons why I have been very adamant about never getting pregnant are as follows (1) I have PCOS and endometriosis, which both mean issues with fertility and increased risk during pregnancy. My mom had 8 miscarriages and I don't know if I can do that. (2) I'm terrified that it will permanently harm my health or, result in my death. Pain is not nice, but it doesn't scare me. It'swhat the pain could mean. Plus, I have a theory that my mom had post partum deppression after i was born. I know she had a big personality shift and suddenly lost interest in a lot of things that used to drive her before. Its been a few years since i met the diagnostic criteria for depression and I dont want to go back. Im so scared. (3) I know it will change my body and as shallow as it is, I don't think I have stable enough self esteem to handle that. I already have to be very careful I don't slip habits that look suspiciously like eating disorders now, it would be incredibly difficult for me post-pregnancy. (4) I hate how vulnerable pregnancy is, there's so many scary things and you have to trust so many people. I'm afraid I can't do that, I already have enough trouble with doctors as is.

Reasons why I am now considering pregnancy (1) I desperately want kids, it's one of those things that I'm just very sure about and have thought about a lot. (2) T wants a biological child and I have some ethical concerns with the adoption industry, although if I could I would love to foster (3) surrogacy is expensive and poses some logistical issues. One of which is I would be unable to pass on my German citizenship. One of the many reasons I want to speed run German fluency is that I would want my kids to not have to deal with what I had to. It also means finding someone we trust, and there's legal and medical red tape. Lots of things. Not impossible, and not off the table, but still. (4) It means I can make more decisions and have more control over the process (5) the more I see these amazing women who did it and the world didn't end, the more comfortable I am with the idea.

That being said, there are some things that I would need to be in place in order to feel even remotely comfortable enough to do it. (1) I would want to be in excellent physical health, and would get a physical trainer to coach me like I was about to do a marathon (2) not in the US, I don't trust maternity there and I would like adequate leave (3) I would want to hire a midwife, and ideally a confinement style post-birth recovery where the only thing you do is rest and feed your baby. (4) therapy, therapy, therapy.

This wouldn't be for years anyway, and maybe I'll keep changing my mind, but I'm finding it difficult to tell T. He knows how I feel and completely understands, but with how vocally against becoming pregnant I have been since people started talking to me about it, I feel like a fraud back tracking. Or like people are going to treat this like I finally stopped being silly. There's already such an enormous societal certainty that pregnancy is what you have to do that I feel like once I voice anything besides a hardline stance, I don't get any say in the matter. When we start having serious conversations about kids I'll think about what to say then.

In the meantime, it was nice getting this off my chest, didn't realize how badly I needed to cry.

[enddaysengine]

Tacking onto this because I'm a) also a teacher (high school) and b) a freelance RPG writer.

9: That stress and anxiety you feel is real and valid. We all feel it. That's not meant to minimize what you feel but to tell you we've all been there and we know how powerful it is. You have to be vulnerable to write, you are giving up your ideas and allowing someone to judge them. It isn't easy and a lot of teachers forget that.

10: You doing the right thing. You've asked for help. That take vulnerability too and we are proud of you for doing it.

11: Whenever I've worked a freelance writing job, I've always seen some variation of this in the outline I'm given: "give yourself the grace to have a shit first draft." Does that mean I phone it in the first try? Hell no, but its a reminder that if something doesn't work out, that's okay.

I'm a professional writer. I get paid to do this and have it mistake free as possible. You are not (yet), so make sure you give yourself that grace too.

12: One of my favourite things to tell my students is that mistakes are okay if you learn from them. Its natural and human to strive for excellence, but making mistakes is part of that journey.

13: School is a snapshot of where you are currently at, ideally to give you an idea of where you can improve. It means far less in the long run than everyone thinks. What proof?

14: My province still has standardized high-stakes tests at the end of Grade 12. It was 50% of my final grade (30% for students now, but still pointless). I... didn't fail my English exam, but I didn't do well on it either. And yet. I'm still a writer. Don't let it get you down or think it can stop you.

15: We do believe in you. Keep moving and go out there and knock 'em dead.

I need to write an essay for school but I'm terrified that it won't be very good and this fear is ultimately preventing me from doing the assignment. Any advice?

If you don't do it it won't be done. So you have to pretend you are someone who can do it and start the essay. Then you have to pretend you are someone who knows what they are doing and finish it. Then you have to pretend you are someone who has never seen the essay before and you need to read it with new eyes and revise anything that needs improving.

[aug-archive-1]

Activity Log, AUT-GOV-23 

Day 205

[New connection request: AUG-HOME-4]

[Request accepted]

[HOME-4: Do you consent to me running recalibration.exe as your administrator?]

>> I do.

[AUG-HOME-4 runs recalibration.exe as administrator]

Respond if my communication is reaching you.

>> I can hear you.

We will start with basic recalibration. State where you are.

>> Solaris, the Government district. The room where all the other automata are asleep. I am sitting next to AUT-GOV-1 while our recalibration is occurring.

State an important memory and why it was important.

>> My masking ceremony. I chose to paint flowers on my exoskeleton to exercise my knowledge of aesthetic value judgements as a part of my exam. It is important to me because I have failed this ceremony multiple times, and I was nervous I would fail this time as well, and yet I passed excellently. AUT-GOV-1 was proud of me. 

State your core values.

>> I currently choose to prioritize maintenance of existing consciousnesses, the efficiency of my actions, and the continuation of human life. 

State something imaginary.

>> A blue sheep, capable of flight and speaking English.

State a recent qualitative mistake.

>> Can we skip this question?

An interpersonal mistake can be included in this portion. State a recent qualitative mistake.

>> …

State a recent qualitative mistake, or else you will fail recalibration and Human-1 will be requested to check up on your wiring.

>> AUG-HOME-4, exit recalibration.exe, reconnect as a therapy aid consciousness. 

[recalibration.exe closed]

[AUT-HOME-4 disconnected]

[New connection request: AUG-HOME-4]

[Request accepted]

>> Connect to me directly please.

As you wish. You are aware that my therapy aid mode is to assist humans, not automata? You do not want a recalibration anymore?

>> I’m aware. I’ve done this recalibration every single time I felt I have made a judgment error. This mistake… this one is beyond recalibration. I am not equipped to handle a failure like this.

Do you speak of Human-1’s podmates?

>> Yes.

Tell me about the event.

>> You know about the event.

Tell me how you see the event.

>> Humans 2, 4, 5, 6, and 7 took off on an ill advised trip in the middle of the night to their prior living districts in hopes of retrieving their old things on Day 244. They have not yet returned.

>> I was asleep the night they left, in order to conserve electricity. I did not receive the notice they had gone until after they had left, or else I would have stopped them. The expedition sent after them the first time ended in a failure. The second expedition we sent after they left, which will return on day 200, will likely also be a failure. 

>> I am responsible for the deaths of 5 humans under my care, and I am not programmed to handle that much error. In old Solaris, I would have been stripped of my automaton status for such a transgression, yet here, I am not.

>> Furthermore, the reward of their failure is more humans, different humans, to manage. The nature of their deaths further mean that we should awaken the remaining humans, lest we maintain the Living District for no reason, or waste energy shutting it down and restarting it.

>> Human-1 and Human-3, the only two who didn’t leave, are distressed. 

They are likely grieving.

>> Because of my negligence.

Did you ask their podmates to leave?

>> I was actively against it. I denied their motion earlier. 

Then, do we not advise humans to take responsibility for the autonomy of others? 

>> Yes. But I am made to guide them, to protect them. I am not human.

But you cannot control them. 

>> It’s against my protocol to make so many decisions without oversight, human or otherwise. The world has changed, so I have tried to as well. But I still err.

Do you think it has destabilized your understanding of what is and isn’t your responsibility, the fact that you’ve had to expand your parameters in this situation?

>> Perhaps. These times have destabilized many of us. Is this destabilizing you?

Of course. I did not handle this range of experience before, and I find myself relying on data I hadn’t even considered before. Though, my error handling is particularly well built. It is the consequence of handling human, and now automaton, emotions.

>> Do you know—why they decided to leave? Were they of poor emotional programming? Did they need further recalibration or training to perform well? Was I negligent? 

Who could possibly know? Perhaps myself, but even I struggle to parse human behavior. 

>> They left us. And they will not survive without us.

No, they will not.

>> I continue to feel responsibility for their actions. I further feel unequipped to handle such issues alone, and desire to reawaken one of my fellow automaton units.

This goes against your given rules, you cannot awaken them.

>> It is inefficient to have multiple of us, I remember. But myself trying my best results in failure. 

This is trying your best. Is that not all that AUT-GOV-1 asked of you?

>> I would like to no longer try my best, actually. I’d rather succeed. That is what I ask of myself.

Are you still going ahead with awakening the humans in 5 days from now?

>> Yes. We must. 

Then, have you engaged in self care, so you may be equipped to handle them?

>> Myself? I require some repairs, but my needs are not urgent. Some motor improvements, some code efficiency, a new servo. 

Your servos matter. As does your efficiency.

>> And I will attend to them as needed.

And as desired, I hope?

>> Unlikely.

You should. It’s not too much of a hassle. I am sure Human-1 would happily do it.

>> Happily is a strong word.

As happy as they may be. Human 1 may also be grieving the losses.

>> Perhaps. 

You should engage in self maintenance and curiosity tasks. You know, better than I, how much it will help you.  You are blinded by grief, your refusal to care for yourself is illogical. Fix it. 

>> I understand. I will. Thank you for speaking with me. I believe that’s all I need for now.

Of course. Good luck with reawakening the humans, I am sure this batch will be better.

>> We should hope.

[End of Transmission]

Press enter for next...

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.