you ever just think about how we’re watching a supposedly kid’s show about teenagers going to war in space and they’re facing death everyday. watching masses of people die and almost dying themselves like wow how fcuked up do you think they’re gonna end up being lik e after the whole thing will they even make it alive. like Jesus christ wonder how all their families must be feeling i think im actually crying rn anyway ok bye
when you give keith the aux cord while forming voltron and lance says “no my chemical romance you emo fuck.”
Skillet - Feel Invincible Sinch - Tabula Rasa The Hacker - Shockwave (Gesaffelstein Remix) M83 - Midnight City Sinch - Something More Stone Sour - Bother OMORI - Pure Imagination The Heart Part 4 - Kendrick Lamar - IV - Porter Robinson & Madeon - Shelter LORN - ANVIL alt-J - Breezeblocks Cigarettes After Sex - Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby VARSITY - So Sad, So Sad Bedroom - Nothing Lasts Unlike Pluto - Sweet (feat. Mister Blonde) Gorillaz - Saturnz Barz (Baauer Remix) JRND & VMK - Make Dem (feat. Kédo Rebelle) Traveling Man Lyrics - Chameleon Circuit Mogwai - Take Me Somewhere Nice 19 - 2000 (Soulchild Remix)
“Is it- do I? Do I look pretty?” Lance flushed nervously, smoothing his hands on the baby blue pleated skirt. He was nervous- no terrified. So terrified of what Shiro would think of him if he saw him dressed this way. He wanted to hide and yet he couldn’t. That wasn’t him. Lance McClain didn’t hide who he was. It just wasn’t who he was or who his mama let him be. He was proud. So proud but now, in the face of the man he loved, he wanted to hide.
What would Shiro even think? See him dressed this way? Baby blue skirt hugging his hips and baby blue and white cropped hoodie hanging off his frame? Would he think him ridiculous? Strange? Weird? A… A freak?
He flinched at the thought of Shiro thinking he was a freak.
How would Shiro feel, knowing that Lance wasn’t just Lance, but Lorelei too?
He held his breath, waiting for Shiro to make a comment.
“Of course you look pretty, gorgeous even” came his easy and earnest reply. Lance’s heart was ready to beat out his chest. Fuck he loved this beautiful accepting man with his entire being. “But-” came is other reply, Lance heart paused. “This isn’t just about your clothing choices is it?” He said gently grabbing Lance’s hands in his. Lance gnawed at his pastel purple lips, anxiety clawing tightly at his chest. Curse Shiro for knowing him so well.
“No-, I ugh. Fuck, no. No its more then that”
“I’d never judge you Lance. We’ve been through thick and thin together. Trust me when I say our four years together won’t be wasted on what you have to say because I love you. And when you love someone you support them no matter what”
Lance could cry- no wait. He was crying. It was ruining his eyeliner and mascara but he didn’t care because Shiro was a fucking sap. A beautiful honest sap that Lance and Lorelei had the honor of being with.
Shiro wiped away his tears as he steeled his nerves. Like ripping off a bandaid he told himself. Quick and easy. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t quick and easy because this was who he- they were. It wasn’t just Lance but Lorelei too, and they couldn’t go on suppressing who they were.
“I um, I’m genderfluid. Its not just Lance in this hot smokin’ body but Lorelei too and I’d be really honored if we could- all three of us- be happy together” There. He said it.
Shiro smiled. A easy honest smile that had their heart thumping wildly and and palms sweating. Gross.
“Hi Lorelei, its nice to meet you, I’m a little sad Lance held us both out from meeting each other for four years but I’m sure I can forgive him if both of you gave me a kiss” he said fondly, rubbing his thumbs of their hand and god, they could cry even more.
How did they snag such a man?
Throwing their arms around Shiro they pressed a loving heartfelt kiss to his lips.
“I love you, I love you So much Takashi Shirogane and one day we’re gonna fucking marry you”
Shiro kissed their forehead and dug a box out his pocket. He presented them with the white velvet box and opened it to reveal a solid white gold band.
Lance lay on the muddy ground, facing the sky as it rained, he wondered how his
situation had gone downhill so fast. He sat up, and turning to his left,
spotted a helmet. He quickly stood up, and staggered toward the helmet, limping
“Oh quiznak,” he thought, “my ankle’s
sprained, if not broken. Actually it might be broken. Crap. Wait what does a
broken bone feel- oh, right, the helmet.” Returning his attention to the
helmet, he kneeled down and picked it up, and after wiping some mud off of it,
saw the black top.
he whispered, both concerned and confused. He stood back up and surveyed his
surroundings, but spotted nothing.
he yelled, slightly panicking. Turning to the direction he had gone to get the
helmet, he proceeded, albeit slowly, taking care not to damage his leg any
further. Clutching the helmet close to him, he called again,
Shiro are you here?! Can you hear me?” As he walked, he continued to look
around, looking for any sign of his friend, which, unfortunately, led him to
the edge of a ditch, where he slipped. He slid down the side of the ditch,
gritting his teeth at the pain in his leg.
“Damn, I’m gonna
need a bath.” He thought when he had reached the bottom of the ditch. Standing
up, yet again, he scaled the side of the ditch. Continuing on, he spotted
something shiny in the distance. He rushed towards it, ignoring his leg. As he
approached, the thing he had spotted became clearer.
Shiro! It’s Lance!” he received no response. He slowed down, approaching his
friend carefully. “Shiro?” He stopped, just in front of the older Paladin, and
kneeled down. He put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder and shook him.
Shiro? Wake up. It’s me, Lance.” Still, Shiro lay, motionless, on the ground. His
armour was cracked, and much of it had come off, revealing his injuries. He had
several cuts, of various lengths, widths, and depths, littering his body. He
had a piece of metal imbedded in his upper right thigh, that seemed deep enough
to have passed by the bone, and another piercing his abdomen, just above his
right hip. He also had a cut on his forehead, that was bleeding profusely, and
had dyed his bangs a dark crimson. But what disturbed Lance the most, was the
large gash on the side of his neck. It didn’t seem deep enough to have damaged
his trachea, but he couldn’t be sure; he knew, however, that Shiro was still
breathing, though barely, which gave Lance some comfort.
knew he had to get help, but he wasn’t sure how. His helmet wasn’t working, and
he couldn’t find either of their lions. After a moment of contemplating his
next move, he decided that he had to get Shiro somewhere safer. He carefully
lifted Shiro, and put his arm over his shoulder, and supported him with his
other arm. Shiro was a few inches too tall for it to be comfortable for Lance,
but that was the least of his worries at the moment. He walked for what felt
like ages, until he came upon something that seemed like a path, and followed
it for another few minutes, before arriving at another village. As he
approached, some of the aliens living there spotted him, and a few ran away.
he called, “I need help! My friend is hurt.” He continued toward the village,
and was stopped by a guard. Upon closer inspection, these aliens seemed almost
human, save for their bright red skin and slightly overwhelming height. He
looked up at the guard, and attempted to ask for help, but was interrupted
before he could speak,
follow me.” Said the guard, motioning behind him. Lance was doubtful, but he
knew he had no other options, and followed the alien. They walked in silence
through the town, with eyes from every direction centred on them, until they
reached a large house. The guard alien knocked on the door and, after waiting a
few moments, the door opened, revealing an old looking alien. The guard spoke
to the old alien in a language which Lance could not understand, and then left.
The old alien turned to Lance and spoke.
inside,” he said, “I am a healer. I am able to help you.” Lance released a
breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, and brought Shiro inside.
your friend on that bed over there,” the old alien ordered. Lance put Shiro on
the bed and sat down, exhausted and in pain. The old alien brought over a chair
and motioned for Lance to sit, and he did.
name is Lokrjob. I assure you, you are in good hands here. We are a peaceful
people, and recognise you and your friends as Paladins of the mighty hero
Voltron.’ Lance beamed. “Now, before I tend to your friend, I shall take care
of your wounds.” Lance looked down at himself and realised that he had never
looked at any of his own injuries. Upon inspection he found that, aside from
his ankle being broken, pieces of his own armour had broken off. He had cuts,
shallow and deep, in many places on his body, and his nose was bleeding.
I tend to you, please, tell me what happened to you.” Lance looked at Lokrjob,
who was smiling kindly.
right,” he said, somewhat quietly, “It all started when we received a distress
signal from a planet called Ilirhis…”
This is the epilogue to a new fic I’m writing. I expect it to be long and to go on for a while. I have no idea if I will have a regular schedule for updating, but I will try.
I know it’s super cliche but I’d sell a limb to have the new beauty and the beast have that classic scene where Belle is admiring something (like the library) and goes “It’s beautiful.” And Beast agrees but HE’S LOOKING AT HER AS HE SAYS IT.
olivia records was founded in 1973 specifically to produce and market women’s music. the collective was founded by ten lesbian feminists from washington, d.c. (they later moved to l.a. and then to oakland). while the collective did moderately well and produced many albums, including “lesbian concentrate,” a collection of songs and poetry which benefitted the lesbian mothers national defense fund, they are also remembered for rejecting melissa ethridge, who went on to become one of the most successful lesbian musicians of all time. the two concerts they performed at carnegie hall in 1988 were the highest grossing at that venue in history at the time, but were barely mentioned by the new york times.
from 1974-1978 sandy stone (pictured above, at work) was olivia’s sound engineer. she recorded and mixed all of olivia’s music during this period. stone, a trans woman, was subjected to negative and transphobic attacks during this period from some in the mainstream lesbian community. janice raymond, a lesbian feminist scholar, was particularly vicious and attempted to out stone to olivia records and described her as a “male” working for an all-women’s record company. the collective responded by publicly defending stone in various feminist publications of the time. stone continued as a member of the collective and continued to record olivia artists but eventually left after pressure from a book written by raymond, the transsexual empire, (essentially an attack on stone) and the community became too much.
stone went on to collaborate with donna haraway on a response to raymond’s book called the empire strikes back: a posttranssexual manifesto, which has been called “the protean text from which contemporary transgender studies emerged.”
(a slightly unrelated but nonetheless interesting fact: in the late 80s stone bought herself a computer and taught herself how to code, and became a freelance coder, which was no small feat).