of a seventh son

little folklore things

in some english folklore there is a belief that the first soul buried in a new burying ground will be tasked to haunt the cemetery forever helping souls move on to heaven and help them to avoid the devil and witches, to avoid this fate there is some customs of burying a dog or some other animal in a new cemetery, it is called a church grim, and unlike other black dogs, which are often harbingers of death, it is a benevolent spirit meanwhile in scottish folklore there is the belief that a person will haunt a cemetery until another is buried there to take their place and so on

in breton folklore it’s believed that if you find yourself on the sea on halloween or all soul’s day that the spirits of the dead lost at sea will try and call your name  to get you to carry them back to land so they can be put to rest properly

among the numerous beliefs of the origins of the selkies, one in shetland and orcadian tradtion is that selkies are the souls of drowned sailors who can return to human form once a year to visit their families

it is believed that the seventh son of a seventh son (or seventh daughter of a seventh daughter) who has red hair will be born with the sight to see the fairies

it is believed unwise to wear too much green as it is a fairy colour and might attract them to you

that’s all i got for now, feel free to add ur own fave little folklore things

Calling all artists and writers! Do you like Lance? Do you like Zines?! 

Welcome to our Lance-Centric Voltron Zine: Starboy!

What is Starboy?

Starboy is a Lance-Centric Zine dedicated to showing our blue son he’s not the seventh wheel of our hearts. (He’s not the seventh wheel. He’s the whole damn automobile ;) )

What is a Zine?

A zine is a collection of artwork and stories that will be published in physical and pdf format.

So How does This Work?

  • Our zine will consist of 30 participants: 15 artists and 15 writers.
  • Artists and writers will be paired together to create an illustrated short story.
  • The zine is Lance-centric– there can be ship content, but the ship should not be the main focus of the art or the story. It’s all about the boy in blue.
  • Authors and artists will be paired together by our ever-vigilant mod team. The artist will create their piece first, and then the writer will do what they do best about it.

For more information check out our Information Page!

Applications Open on the 9th!

Applications now Open!
Applications now closed!

(art by @aetherlogic)

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If you loved the Princess Bride you will love…

Also:

ALL THE THINGS WRITTEN BY TAMORA PIERCE.

READ ALL HER BOOKS.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

Day Ninety-Nine

-In a battle of etiquette-based oneupmanship, I found myself engaged in an ever-reciprocating chain of goodbyes and waves. My opponent: a four year-old with a penchant for trucks. The sparring waged on until, after the thirty-seventh goodbye, the tired mother hushed her son, leaving me as the reigning champion.

-A six year-old tore the bag of a Minecraft toy and insisted to his mother that she had to buy it now, that it was her duty to purchase the damaged goods. Whether a sincere act of guilt or simply a masterful career-making con, it was ultimately in vain, as the mother hid the evidence and led her children on a grand escape.

-A man attempted to leave his empty Starbucks cup at a vacant register to get away with not throwing it away himself. Unfortunately for him, this had actually been my register, and I had stepped away momentarily. My return was perfectly timed as I successfully spooked the life out of him and he swiftly snatched it up and made a run for it. Justice prevails once more.

-I caught a woman in her forties Instagramming her Starbucks experience. Not with a picture of her drink, but rather, the entire Starbucks. I am deeply and truly proud of this woman for living her life to the fullest.

-I listened, enraptured, as two girls debated whether or not they share a mother. I only wish I could have heard the conclusion.

-Today, we at my store are facing the unspeakable: a near-complete bag shortage. We have been raiding adjacent lanes for whatever bags they had to spare, but these resources will soon dry up. We are left with few options. Our next raid will have to be a nearby location. We must survive. Whatever the cost.

-“Don’t talk to me, I have to go to Walmart,” A mother snapped at her children. I understand. I, too, can lose my temper when facing such a harrowing realization.

-In the midst of a casual conversation, a guest dropped that she “is going to eat the heiny out of a horse.” I do not know her, and I may be overstepping my bounds here, but please LEAVE THE HORSE ALONE.

-A couple came through my lane and purchased only a large bottle of lube. This in itself did not faze me, however, the payment did. As he handed me his cash, I noticed that the middle two fingers on his dominant hand had been broken and were in a cast. Clearly, this is a man who has learned his lesson the hard way.

The 7th Wheel

(or in other words I gave up and wrote some langst. there’s some self-loathing, but nothing really worse than that, a bit of internalized biphobia)


It wasn’t as if he was unhappy. Not really. Sure, If he thinks of the blue expanse of ocean and its stinging salt air upon his face, his chest might tighten, air being drained from the lungs. But, every one was feeling homesick, right? And that lack of air that made his eyes water when the darkness in the castle was just too oppressive was a bummer, sure, but it didn’t define him. No, he wasn’t unhappy. Hunk was there, always there, and despite the fact he suspected Pidge didn’t really have many feelings, they were there too. The three idiot students from Earth who were in way over their heads, right?

(something in the back of his mind would remind him it’s only Lance who’s out of his element.)

I mean, sure, he misses home. He misses his family with their unrelenting enthusiasm that was always infectious - but hey, he was saving the universe, and that was pretty cool. Well, more than cool.

(When it wasn’t the most terrifying thing in existence, a part of him responded.)

Like, who else got to pilot a giant robot lion that turns into a bigger robot? I mean, that’s sci-fi shit, right? It was what his childhood dreams were made of - flying through stars, defeating bad guys, and all that other jazz. Right? He wasn’t unhappy. I mean, sure, it was a little intense. Sure, it was a lot intense. But in all his boyhood dreaming, he’s still seen things he never actually dreamed of - I mean, space mermaids. Fucking space mermaids. He’d almost laugh out loud if he really thought about it.

(best not Lance, he reminded himself; if you think then it becomes real.)

So, no, he’s not unhappy. He’s not like The Mullet, brooding and angsting around like he was a member of My Chemical Romance.

(don’t think about Keith.)

And yeah, Keith has reasons to be as miserable as he seemed, with the whole ‘part alien’ thing, and no family, and the whole ‘loner badass’ shtick, plus, it’s not like he isn’t cute when he’s brooding, because he is, and –

(stop.)

He remembers Keith’s smiling face and his heart ached, because as cute as Keith’s serious face, it could never compare to when Lance could actually make him laugh, and –

(STOP.)

it wasn’t like Keith liked him anyway. He was nothing comparatively. But that’s okay. Lance knows, really, he does. He knows how frustrating he can be, with his jokes and his flirtations, and his lack of talent, but… still. Blue chose him and it’s not like just anyone could pilot that particular lion, though if he thought about really hard the others probably could, they’re such great pilots hell even Hunk is a better pilot and he gets (got) spacesick like wow Lance what are you even doing here, how the hell do you think you could ever be like Shiro, have you seen yourself everyone pities you how the hell do you think Keith could ever like you back he probably doesn’t even like boys, because you know, he’s not a freak who can’t make up his mind what are you doing Lance what are you doing here, and why are you complaining about it I mean the others have real problems for fucks sake and you’re whining because he doesn’t like you back don’t you see how pathetic that is - Pidge lost her family, Shiro lost his friend, his arm, his old life, Allura and Coran lost their entire species and you can’t deal with homesickness and I mean you could get away with it if you had a thing but you don’t you don’t have one single thing going for you you know what they would be better off with a different pilot and you know that but–

“Are… are you okay?” The voice was the familiar stuttering of his emotionally stunted crush and Lance looked up, releasing his fists and looking in shock and the small red lines his nails left behind. “Uh…?” Lance shook his head remembering that he hadn’t yet given an answer.

“Oh, uh…yeah, dude, just thinking about this babe I met on mission, man, she was into me…” Keith scoffed, somewhat unconvinced but not willing to hear more.

“Sure. Whatever. Anyway, Shiro needs to talk to us.” Lance’s face fell as he realised Keith in no way volunteered to talk to him. “So… uh…I’ll just go.” Lance nodded shortly, flashing a smile.

“Catch you up, Mullet-head.” Keith glared at him as he turned to go. Lance balled his hands into fists again, and got up, eyes silently stinging.

But, it wasn’t like he was unhappy. Right?