#I know in the cartoon star wore a white wedding dress and all but like

[starsmuserainbow]

Top of the morning to ya, Starfire. I noticed you have lovely green eyes and that your star bolts are green. Very festive for St. Patrick's Day. Does your planet have a holiday that is celebrated by wearing a certain color?

[[Thank you for the ask!]]

"Oh, I thank you!" She had also gotten out a dress to wear - as long as no trouble would arise - for the occasion, and Starfire was happy to hear a compliment.

"On Trie'hr, it is common for my people to wear grey or white, but the color of our clothes is not as important to that festivity as I believe it is here for this celebration."

[sjw-publishings]

Retrospective Division

Josh and Henry walked hand in hand down the hallway, directly to the office in which they resided. The young men were in charge of small LGBTQ business in the building...only to be kicked out due to being too ‘liberal’, making room for tenants who were closer to his ‘Retrospective Vision’.

So much so, that the taller one had to voice it out.

“I’m...I’m going to send an email to the higher ups!” Josh spoke.

Josh Ming was the older of the two, only slightly older though at the age of 23. Fresh out of college and directly ready to start business with his newlywed husband.

Dressed in a pair of of white loafers with matching pair of beige khaki shorts, he wore a light blue buttoned polo underneath his pink checkered sweater vest with rainbow flag pin over his right breast...

Was that the final straw for the clearly conservative owner to kick them out after just a few months? If it was...

He scratched the back of his head, left palm messing with his wavy raven locks before briefly adjusting his rectangular half-frame specs. Something was real off...and he really wanted to get to the bottom of it.

This sudden rising passion of energy within him was also different, tightening his grip on his boyfriend, he would usually remain quiet and reserved, ignoring the such attitude towards them...but being kicked out? That really ticked him off.

“Honey, I like that attitude!”

Meanwhile, Henry was quite astonished by drive his husband was showing. Sure they both took turns in the bed and was Jeffery incredible when he was top, but he had never seen this side of him until today...

The 22 year old caucasian smiled, loving every bit of the drive from the other male, considering he was usually the one taking charge vocally.

Placing his right hand on his waist, swishing his hips in those pink bermudas while strutting in his own pair of slip-on, navy blue formal shoes that he recently got.

They had the right to dress liberally and freely, he would never sass directly-he and his boyfriend’s clothing says it all! With a matching light blue buttoned down-minus the sweater and throw in a white cardigan for variety.

Swooshing his blond curly locks, his sky blue eyes narrowed in admiration towards his partner, freckles rising with his cheekbones.

“Heh...must’ve gotten it from you~”

“Awww.”

In a matter of seconds, they reached the entrance to their office. They were told to pack up and go in the middle of the night, and with the full moon shining directly at them from a open window behind.

They immediately released the grip from the other as they walked in without question.

Not even realising that they won’t be holding the other this way when they come out.

————————————————————

As they entered, the room stayed mostly the same for now, with the only major difference, is that their desks are apart, parallel to one another.

Just like their formerly interlocked hands.

“Of course! the owner doesn’t support us working side by side directly!”

Josh noted, rolling his eyes as his tone got snappy. Folding his arms, not realising his lisp fading slightly with the remark.

“No worries hun, that just means I’d get a better look at you~”

He turned to his boyfriend, who looked lovingly at him at the side. At Eye level, re-assuring the other that everything will be alright. He blinked, did Henry just get taller all of a sudden? He definitely did not notice it earlier...must be the new shoes he was wearing.

“Right back at ya love~”

“Ooooh now there’s that attitude I love!”

PINCH!

“Oof!”

With that, Henry gave a tight pinch to his behind, smirking as he walked to his desk. Of course, it was far harder than usual, that tease. His husband liked to do that especially when he was happy, which was great when he was happy despite those remarks from the owner!

But something about the pinch...really set him off.

Playing it off, not noticing his larger steps as he strode to his side of the room. Legs stretching wide apart, feet grounded to the floor as he stood like a 1930s cartoon, except with more realistic proportions.

PLONK!

Landing butt first on his chair, he winced once again, he sat with more force than intended. Probably due to the aggression towards the owner, but wasn’t there supposed to be a cushion he and his husband brought from home on his-

Sleek Office chair, the modern kind without the comfort. Just pure professionalism like the way the owner demanded. Did that arse remove his-

Meanwhile Henry from across looked comfortable in his...’Chairman’s chair’. Like he was a higher up overseeing him, with a smug grin, but it was just cause he found him cute right?

“Sit up straight hun...wouldn’t want the owner to think otherwise.”

“Got it...! Thanks for reminding me!”

“No problem love...”

He responded quickly...though kind of irritated, he knew it was the owner’s policy too, about a ‘straight back leads a straight life’. He often made visits to everyone of his tenants or so he claims...especially them.

How ridiculous of a ‘motivational message’, though Jeff did like to keep his back straight for proper posture and presentation, not cause he was...

Anyways...what is with the fact that his fiancé is on a grand chair while he was stuck lookin’ like a subordinate. Sure Henry was slightly older...and taller than him, but the difference between them was huge.

He shouldn’t let that get to him...but its kind of pissing him off, specially with that smug grin on the older male’s face.

Mustering up all his professionalism, he spoke to the other male about their situation, holding in as much anger as he could.

“Say...how else do you think the owner expects us to behave?”

“Don’t know, probably...like him...”

Older days...yeah that sounds about right. Blinking, Josh watched as numerous LGBTQ posters and photos he framed up on his side taken down in an instant, replaced with framed photographs, mainly black and white of men and women in retro-esque attire.

But the main thing were the fact was there were only happy heterosexual couples in the wedding pictures that he took...where wuz’ all the gay ones huh?

Meanwhile, Henry’s side had the pictures reshaped into various expensive degrees and award certificates apparently. Josh wasn’t sure when his senior was such a stick in the arse and show off his life, but apparently its the reality they live in now.

Mixed with the wood panelling, their office walls split into two. With his fiancé’s side having a more polished grey shine to it...and his having wallpaper of grey rocks right behind him.

He was pissed, all his hard work gone to waste when the boss removed all his...stuff, doing renovations...Sure he kinda liked the new decor, always felt sturdy where he wuz at. But still it was his stuff!

Though then again, he also did help take some of those conference photos for the boss when he had met with several of his big league associates, a proof of skill he could use when advertising his talent to the boomers...

Whatevah! He was still goin’ to be typin’!

As he had started up his trendy PearPC, he blinked as the load in bar showed up. Tapping his fingers impatiently, not realising the shiny light weight frames becoming heavier and grounded as the quality of the pixels dropped tremendously with every second.

“Something is not right! And I’m gettin’ to the bottom of dis!”

“Whatever you say, hun...”

Rolling his eyes at his lover’s statement, the older male was not as passionate as he was when it comes to delivering the truth. Not fighting as hard as he was, whateva’!

He was doin’ it HIMSELF!

Rubbing his palms, as his ‘doorframe’ retro PC lit up, being an older model did not hinder his goal as he opened up the word processor and began typing away!

He was always a fast typer, especially when his grandpapy trained him when he was younger. Though that did not sound right? They didn’t have computers back in the day and age!

As Josh blinked, the digital letters seemed almost printed out the more he starred into them. As he continued typing on his keyboard, he didn’t notice the swiftness of his fingers as he crunched on the keys effortlessly, neither did he mind the metallic clicking sound with every syllable.

Precisely, rubbing his eyes, the glossy flow shifted into simple paper. Grinning to himself, retro it is! Right in front of em’, a policy that the boss really stood firm in his heart.

“Not that I mind, Chief.”

Muttering to himself, Joshon was raised by a highly conservative grandfather who drilled him in the importance of staying true to their values.

Not noticing with that remark, his rainbow flag pin stretched like taffy around his neck, solidifying into a black monotone neck tie as the collar of his Polo tee stiffened.

And folded down.

Sweater vest splitting into two, the sleeves merging with the polo as the vest thinned out. A long row of buttons trailed down the merged too, colour bleaching white into a straight, iron-pressed dress shirt.

Even though he was sorta queer, there was no way he’ll be outrightly pissing his grand-papy off! Folding his arms determinedly, as the pinkness of the remaining vest fabric faded to black, looping into straps with a big criss-cross over on his back.

SNAP! Wearing his suspenders with grey pride.

It didn’t really matter to him in the face of a scoop. Especially when it comes to whatever the owner of the establishment is doing, he was determined to write it like the reporter he was.

You can say, it was going to be the scoop of the century!

“Did you say something?”

Gohen got up from his throne, dressed in a thick black suit, with faint white checkered patterns all over, with the typical office dress shirt and matching tie he always wore.

Sauntering over to the reporter’s side of the room, possessively. The hispanic-caucasian stared at the pan-asian male...though its less so love and more so-

“What are you doing?”

But oh man, does he piss Joshon off.

Yeah they’ve been engaged, but the way he breathes down his neck makes the reporter sick. Arms toughening with strong toned biceps, as a healthy dusting of hair lined his forearms.

The roughness the two exhibited even in bed was less out of love and more so...pent up frustration, especially lately. No matter how the conversation went, its just conflict after conflict.

“I’m just typing away the new article, lovah!”

His lover’s been clinging onto em’ again. Examinin him like a piece of meat, even though they just get engaged recently...though it was more so the lawyer’s idea rather than Joshon’s.

Tied down to another guy like that, even that was too gay for his liking.

“Why don’tcha just-TALK TO ME?”

“I AM TALKIN’ TO YA!”

He was so ANGRY with his lover, getting up, hands pressing against the other...and with a-

PUSH!

The impact left a huge blow to their relationship.

Flinging both men back to their side of the room, onto each of their seats. Rings morphing into simple tie pins as they stuck onto their new ties. Nothing special or out of the ordinary, and definitely nothing to personal with the other male.

They just anger each other.

First came the realisation of the older male, who tugged relentlessly below, surging through age and maturity as his weathered face took on a caramel tan.

Hair styling into natural curls, shortening into a dark brown, embracing his new identity of a conservative single man in his fifties. Letting loose any notion of being attracted to anyone but his future-

“Hermosa!”

The hispanic BOOM-ER’ed his manhood, letting loose all his reservations and kindness as a dark glare rested on the male. Deep eye bags alongside a faint beard.

Dusting himself, the middle aged man made sure he appeared presentable, despite still in a hazy afterglow.

Shaking himself out of his trance, the older man glared at the younger male.

“Get out my office.”

Walls fell down between the two, a complete division of interests as the attorney faded from his sight.

“Well who needs ya?”

Still thirsting for release, his face contorted at any thought of attraction to the older man. What wuz he? Queer? That kind of shit gets ya kicked outta office!

Which was why he liked it ere’!

“PANSY!”

A young handsome guy free to be chasing the ladies! Hair slicked to the side, as his skin embraced that peachy caucasian tan of his new ethnicity.

“QUEER!”

The tense fights he had with his competitor and rival next door. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. Grinning arrogantly at the triumphs he had over the man, especially when he told Gomez about the queer vibe he got from those chicks.

And both ladies turned about to be lesbians!

Imagine how much the owner of the establishment would be proud of him, how his grandpapy would be proud of him.

His arrogant sneer framed by his squared jaw, licking his lips as his signature five o clock shadow lined his masculinity. Narrowing his much larger eyes, blowing a large-

“GOT DA SCOOP RIGHT ERE!”

And so the incredibly heterosexual reporter proclaimed, kicking back as his hard member came and came like the single retro business owner he was.

Slumping back in the afterglow, immersing in his heterosexuality like he always did past midnight as he-

Knock!

Jolted up, zipped his trousers, and crossed his arms as his boomer rival barged in.

“Matt! Will ya keep it down?!”

“Shaddup Diego! As if you and your crusty balls didn’t jerk off for the third time this evenin’!”

Of course, they initiated their famous, tense, stare down at the other. The caucasian reporter remaining in his position as the hispanic lawyer made his way to the seat in front of him.

The two of them fought ever since they met. With Gomez being being really disapproving towards Johnson as a result.

The Chief’s colleague vouched for their grandson Johnson to be a part of the many businesses in the building, claiming he will be a value asset to his ‘conservative vision’.

Of course, Reporter Johnson was a prodigy. Being raised in the art of the press by his Grand-pappy, the ins and outs on the ‘black N white days’ without too much influence from the modern world.

It was no surprise that the chief, the owner of dis ere’ place, gave him an office of his own.

Even bypassing Attorney Gomez’s approval, who, besides being the prime defence lawyer against any allegations towards the property owner, was also the one who made the deciding vote on whether someone was able to rent an office in the Chief’s estate.

Of course, the idea of a man, over a decade younger, having this much influence in the building had ticked the hispanic boomer to his very core. And ever since then, it became a non-stop cycle of one upping the other.

“Listen Matty, you know how it goes as much as I do. We’re men and still single, we need women.”

Though despite their numerous arguments, over the years, they may never admit it...but when it comes to getting partners, they were both unfortunate enough to remain single this long.

In their late thirties and fifties respectively, flirting with ladies and getting rejected like some 50s comedy routine.

“Never understood how did some guys get married immediately after college...bunch of queers.”

“Agreed, especially for a hot rich lawyer such as myself, being single is definitely out of the equation.”

“Hey! Hey! You think the ladies care about an old man in a suit when a hot stud like me is around?”

“Not when you are far from tactical with your words! Besides, you should see how the women look at me when I walk down the hallway.”

“Oh yeah? Well Chicks can’t resist spankin’ my arse with every step!”

And so the argument continues, like almost every time they met. Like a married couple, except they were straight and talking about women women women.

And for some odd reason, because of this fact, despite their glaring differences in almost about everything. They knew they had each other’s back when it comes to this.

“Anyways...the owner said he’s found two ladies working in an office below us...and that they are not only interested in us...but-”

Taking out the photographs from the brown folder, in them were two gorgeous women that these straight men could not peel their eyes off. Like an alluring magnet of compatibility, that kind that they were unable to resist.

The left one definitely screamed the ‘mamacita’ that Diego desired. As he placed his matured palm over that photograph, red tints could be seen over his cheeks as he subconsciously licked his lips.

Of course, Matt’s hard on throbbed at the sight of the right chick. Like a lesbian who turned straight in front of his lens, the kind of Gal he would spend his life with, and for some reason he knew she would too.

“You in?”

Lawyer Diego Gomez folded his arms, but barely hid the incredible pheromones of attraction towards his lady. Sandwiching his manhood and rubbing it, desperately needing her immediately, closing his single case once and for all.

Reporter Matt Johnson mirrored the older male, and not wanting to admit it, is thirsting for that retro babe like the scoop of the century. He really desired for her...but he ain’t gonna show weakness in front of his rival! He was taking charge, hungry eyes blending in with a determined expression.

“You be my wingman this time Gomez, and you’ve got a deal.”

[hunterguyveriv]

Voltron Halloween Wrap Party

This is my Keith Month story for @keithmonth prompt Halloween which also developed into a slight Kacxa story. I came up with the idea of a Voltron Legendary Defender Halloween-Wrap party. In which “characters” dress up in costumes and have a gathering to celebrate the series. I hope you enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it. Some of the characters are dressed up as characters from series I liked growing up and series I liked now, whereas others represent characters as references to other series and movies and characters I feel they would actually dress up as. 

Voice: Come on! It is almost 11:30! We were supposed to meet everyone an hour and a half ago!

Pidge dressed up as Hiccup from the upcoming How to Train Your Dragon movie, was leaning against a wall next to a closed door. She had her arms crossed tapping her pointer and middle finger against her black scaled armor. She even had a plushie Toothless perched on her shoulder.

Pidge turned her hand and looked at a holographic time display on her armor. The Halloween Voltron-Wrap party started at 9:30. She had received a text that her brother, Shiro, and Keith were going to arrive at various times around 9:25. Most of the cast had arrived around 8:30 and mingled. Only ones yet to arrive were Pidge and her roommate.

Voice: NO! I look stupid in this outfit! And what is the point of this bust armor and codpiece?!

Pidge lightly hit her head against the wall releasing an exasperated sigh a few times.

Pidge: It's a Halloween costume!

Voice: But I am practically naked! And why do I need a glowing rock in my hand and a sword!

Pidge: Because the character does! Do you want to grab his attention?! It will be a good counterbalance to his outfit!

Voice: I DO! But I don’t want anyone else’s! And I don't even know what he is wearing!

Pidge: That is kind of the point of costumes, to grab everyone’s attention, especially the one you are interested in!

Voice: What if he hates it? Or think it’s too...whats the word slutty?

Pidge: First: he won’t think that of you, and second: have you met him? Have you seen his anime collection? He’s going to love it!

Pidge heard a growl come from the bathroom and metallic stepping towards the door moved to the living room to watch her roommate come out of the bathroom. Pidge watched as her friend cautiously walked into the living room, her arm over her breasts and left hand over the cod-piece which also ran between her butt cheeks to connect to the body armor in the back.

Pidge’s eyes widened and mouth gaped open a little making her roommate stop walking and blush. Quick metal clanking from the nervous steps of her metal heals which also seemed to have blades in them. She felt a little uneasy under Pidge’s inspection.

Her roomie, wasn’t wrong when she said she felt naked. She was dressed up as Masane Amaha from one of his favorite series. She had the breast armor, the codpiece which had a blade in it. On top of her skin-tight alloy boots from the knees all the way down to the toe of the boots as a long razor-like blade that ended in a tip. Her left leg was covered to just above the left knee, whereas the right literally when up to her hip connecting to the body armor. Her right arm was covered in armor with a glowing red gem in the top and a retractable katana-like blade. On her left a skin-tight grey armor-like gauntlet to just cover her wrist.

Her breasts were covered from the side to just her nipples in what seemed to be clawed hands connecting to the body armor. She had a light shoulder pad o the left shoulder and what looked to be a massive curved blade on the space between her neck and right moderately padded shoulder and curved downwards towards her right breast.

The armor completely covered her back, sides (as previously described) except her left side which stopped at her left hip. She wasn't happy that the majority of exposed skin was from her neck down to her breasts, stomach, waist, leading down to her pubic region that the cod-piece barely covered. But the lack of frontal armor also showed off some of her scars. Something her race considered to be something intimate and personal between mates.

All that was left of her outfit was to put in her special contacts, make-up, and wig. Contacts that turned her sclera pitch black and iris a glowing orangeish-yellow color. Her wig was a mixture of bright and dark reds that went to her mid-back and flared into different directions. And makeup that would have made her cheeks almost similar to his mother’s, but then went down in a nearly straight line at her neck and slightly curve again towards her chest.

Pidge: Wow��� he is going to love it!

Voice: I hope so. This outfit is so embarrassing!

Pidge: Don't’ worry about it. He will love it. Just don't be surprised if he wants you to wear it more after tonight.

Voice: I don't even know what he is wearing.

Pidge: That's the point, but trust me, you will know him when you see him.

Nearly everyone had arrived on time. Shiro dressed as the character Batou from Ghost in the Shell. He had his hair trimmed to a spikey mussed style and had specially made eye prosthetics made. He wore tactical multi-pocketed army green pants, military boots, a white tank top and tee-shirt, and leather jacket.

He arrived with Matt who being the anime nerd he was, was dressed as the long-haired version of Future Trunks and his fiance. Sporting a cropped jean jacket, black tank-top, and torn baggy jeans with yellow boots. His fiance wore a military style trench coat that had a red star in a yellow circle on the right arm. She also wore tactical boots and green fatigue pants visible where the coat stopped. She had ad typical gun belt on, with black leather gloves.  

Lance arrived with his sister and the Alteans. He had grown a little mustache and wore a black and white pinstripe suit. His hair was slicked back with grease, modeling his looks after Gomez Adams. He walked in with Allura’s arm looped through his.

His sister Veronica was going for a Selene from Underworld look. She was wearing a black latex catsuit with a black corset with intricate patterns that looked Celtic in origin even her leather trench coat had the same intricate Celtic like patterns on it. She straightened and dyed her hair black. She wore leather boots that went halfway up her thighs having various buckles down the sides.

Allura was dressed as Storm. She wore the black leather suit from the movies, something she loved more than the tacky silver jumpsuit from the cartoons and old comics. She saw some friends and broke away from Lance’s arm and went to greet them.

Romelle dressed as Sailor Moon and broke away from the group when she saw Shiro’s stunt double Sven leaving Lance with Coran who was dressed as Michael Myers. Like Shiro, he was dressed up as a Ghost in the Shell character, but Togusa in tac-gear. She eagerly walked up to him a blush on her face, as he smiled at her.

Coran, dressed as Michael Myers, left the siblings to go talk to Alfor wearing a Black Knight outfit that had what looked like a head of a swine with tusks in red on the front. He even had the patterned blood spurt hoses for his legs and arms. Zarkon was no surprise dressed as Darth Vader and Honerva was dressed as Elvira. They were laughing it up at exploits and adventures they have done and been on. Even Allura’s mother made an appearance and was catching up with Honerva like bantering sisters. But Allura’s mother just couldn’t step out of being proper, so she wore a dress a queen from the middle ages.

Lance saw Hunk and Shay and said something to his sister before going to them. To an untrained eye, Hunk would have looked out of place. Being he was wearing regular clothes, a hat ball cap that said “Giver,” a tight flannel sleeveless shirt, and overalls over the shirt. He even had a fake mustache and beard. But what gave it away that it was a costume was he had fake blood spray on the front of his overalls, flannel shirt, and washed blood on his arms. His girlfriend Shay was dressed in a forest green gee that had gold embroidery and pants that were a sandy tan color. She had a square in a circle pendant around her neck and yellow arm wraps.

Next to arrive was Kolivan, he for a second time since filming started had a smile on his face. He was dressed up as a Jedi. The production staff thought it was best because of his skills and how he carried himself. Followed by Krolia and Keith’s father Trever Hawkings. They were still beaming with love for each other, proudly wearing their wedding bands now that the series was over.

Krolia was dressed as Laura Croft, she sported the aqua blue tank top, dark brown hiking shorts, a pair of thigh strapped holsters to her legs and hiking boots. Trevor was dressed up as Indiana Jones, with the expedition khakis, boots, and shirt. He wore a belt on his side with a whip attached to it, along with the hat and jacket. Before mingling with others Krolia noticed a pair of pink glowing eyes.

He watched from the roof via a skylight as Lotor arrived dressed as Riff-Raff from the cult classic Rocky Horror Picture Show. With him was Macidus who was dressed as the Scream-Ghost, Zethrid, and Narti who were dressed up as a Godzilla and a furry kaiju. He also saw Ezor was wearing an outfit that looked Asian in origin, based on her outfit and how acrobatic she naturally was he deduced her character was from that Avatar: The Last Airbender series. Sendak was dressed as a Terminator and Dayak were dressed in a black one-piece skintight robe from the waist up to her hat which was 2 curved points that looked like dragon horns.

He also saw Nyma, Beezer, Rolo, and Olia arrive. They were dressed as their favorite characters. Nyma was dressed as a female predator. Rolo as Daryl Dixon, he couldn't help but smile thinking “suits him.” Beezer was made to look like R2D2 and Olia as a werewolf.

He saw Hira dressed as a character from a sequel series to that Avatar series. Trayling was dressed as Vincent Price. Even Slav who was running the decorations and DJaying was dressed up. He smiled as his wolf dressed as the kaiju Angilas and Laika dressed as King Caesar was playing tug-of-war with some Sentry props. He saw various “Galra secondaries” like Thace, Ulaz, and others mingle with some of the actresses who played female Galra in the series.

Next to pile into the reserved dance hall was the Garrison group. Iverson was dressed as the DOOM-Slayer, Sam Holt was dressed as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Colleen was dressed as a character name Aina from a Gundam series. James was dressed in a Star Trek uniform from The Wrath of Khan” to the beginning portion of “Generations”, Ina was C3PO, Nadia was wearing a sleeveless one-piece bodysuit with body paint on her arms to look like robotic arms, brown boots that went up to her knees, fake blood smeared in a line on her cheeks, and her hair cut to a “bob-cut” style. Kinkade who Nadia was attached to, caught his eye. He was dressed up as Blade, from the buzz cut and fake tribal tattoos to the black leather trenchcoat, sword, throwing spikes, and blades, down to his vest, black tactical pants, boots, and sunglasses.

The last to join the festivities were Voltron Alumni from the previous series. A feisty 23-year-old redhead by the name of Larmina who was dressed as Scarlet in black tactical gear and a crossbow holstered to her side. Vince who was dressed in the typical college student costume of Raphael the ninja turtle. And Daniel who was dressed as David Tennant’s Doctor from Doctor Who.

He sighed not seeing who he wanted to see and walked out of view of the skylight. He slowly made his way down the stairs outside the building and slipped into the building. He disconnected the tubes leading from his chest to his helmet before entering the kitchen. V’repit-Sal was catering the event and was barking out orders to his under-chefs. He grabbed a few samples and left the kitchen. He went and sat down in a dark corner turning the light up eyes off and sulking ate the food he took.

What he didn’t know was Pidge finally joint the party with her roomie, Acxa. When he saw still in the darkness, he was spellbound by her outfit. He couldn't help but stare at her, like most of the other men and some of the women. Some that were jealous, others that were spellbound like he was. He saw that she was looking for someone but had a disappointed look on her face. She went and started mingling with some of the castmates she grew to call friends over the last 2 years.

Voice: Well, go on. Go say hello to her.

Keith nearly jumped out of his costume hearing Pidge’s voice. He couldn't see her under her black armor, but he could tell she had a shit eating grin under that helmet. The two chatted briefly before Pidge told him she is really out of her comfort zone wearing the outfit. After Pidge left him to go mingle with the others, Keith sighed before putting his helmet back.

He sat there looking at her before turning the pink almond-shaped eyes on again. He could see her increasingly get uncomfortable. He stood up and slowly started walking out of the darkness. Everyone actually stopped what they were doing and looked at the blue armored being with black under it walk. Each step he made had a soft metallic “clinking” sound.

As he walked up to Acxa everyone was wondering who this person was with great confidence. Everyone except 3 people and a wolf who was busy playing with his new friend. Pidge went to meet up with Hunk and Lance with a cocky smirk on her face as everyone was admiring the suit she helped make.

Hunk: What character is that?

Shay: I do not know. But it looks like a mean character.

Lance: Who is that and who made it?!

Pidge: I helped make it, and it is a character from Guyver. This happens to be the movie 1994 movie version of the character Guyver-I.

Lance: Never heard of it.

Pidge: Not surprising with you Lance. Considering you like the most assinine anime that is on TV, that has no real substance to it.

Lance scowled at her.

Hunk: But who is it?

Pidge: Isn't it obvious?

Acxa seemed a little uneasy under the emotionless pink glowing almond eyes. Even covered up her chest, most of her scars, and the pubic region as she looked at the armored person before her. The armor was a deep aqua blue with black coils underneath it. The armor had an organic appearance to it but yet looked metallic. It had what looked like cracks in it that looked part of the armor itself.

Keith: Happy Halloween, Acxa.

Acxa: Keith!

Keith: Excellent Witchblade.

Acxa started to blush, and hug him a little tighter.

Acxa whispering: Thanks.

People saw her eyes go from uneasy to recognizing the voice and giving him a hug and him wrapping his arms around her. They could see her start to relax again, which was the biggest indicator on who it was.

Hunk: Is that Keith?! No way!

Pidge: I know right? Who knew he had a taste for obscure anime!

Krolia smiled seeing the scene and even gave a slight nod to the DJ. He switched the song from “Werewolves of London” to a version of a rock song that was just strings and piano. She felt a left hand touch her left shoulder and a right arm wrap around her waist gently which prompted her to put her own on them as his scent surrounded her. The 2 proud parents watched on gleaming at their son and the woman he was hugging.

Keith and Acxa continued to dance and be each other’s company. Even as the night progressed to early morning and the owners and producers of the Voltron series made it known that they had a couple of announcements to make Keith and Acxa remained each other’s company. The first announcement was to tell everyone that when the party ended and the December premiere party the series “Voltron Legendary Defender” was officially over.

The announcement brought a rather somber tone to the room. Everyone had poured blood sweat and tears into the show and now it was over. Far too soon for some, but it was the end of the series. It prompted a somber clapping cheering from everyone. But that announcement wasn’t the only announcement.

When everything calmed down it was revealed that there were 2 spin-off series and a sequel series in the works which lead to the third announcement. The last and final announcement from the owners and producers was there were plans for a Voltron movie in which start production in 2023 for a 2024 release to celebrate the 40th Anniversary of Voltron.

Everyone in the room erupted in a cheer that reverberated outside. As he embraced Acxa, who sat on his lap leaning and nuzzling against him he was content. For once in so many years, this was turning out to be the best Halloween ever and that didn't want it to end, was the single thought going through Keith’s head.

[outofcertainty-blog]

as certain dark things are to be loved

[After the announcement of S3 yesterday, I wanted to write Malec fluff. Today, @irethinglorion93 tried to kill me with Jace feelings so I said screw it, everyone gets to be happy. The drabble is a little emotional because it’s me, but everyone gets to be okay and happy.

Clizzy, Malec, Jimon. Title from this poem.]

Another touch of red and there.

Isabelle looked at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that, nodding once she was satisfied with the result. Not that this was a particularly fancy party, just a get together between friends. No, it was more than that now, it was family, in a way that she’d never thought about before. Back in Idris, there was a suffocating ceremonial aspect to everything. There were rules and codes of conduct wrapped around their throats to keep them from speaking out of turn, wrapped around their shoulders to keep their backs straight. A warrior procession, not a family reunion.

There was none of that now. There is none of that need to watch herself, to be perfect. Izzy knew she could make a complete fool out of herself and it wouldn’t bother her much. More than that, it would carry no consequences to anyone. No one would be judging. They could just be themselves. She could be herself. Clary could be herself.

The thought brought a smile to her lips. She put the lipstick back in her purse, placed it over one shoulder and walked over to the adjacent room. The sight of her made Izzy pause immediately, breath caught in her throat.

Clary was leaning over, forearms braced against the wooden frame, legs crossed. White sneakers splashed with bright colors, jeans, a checked shirt over a white tank top, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Casual and practical with a touch of the whimsical, a touch of the dreamer, enhanced by the song she was humming, bright and clear. It brought her back to a childhood she never had, one filled with happiness and laughter and colorful handprints on the walls. It made happiness flutter across her chest, unrestricted and unbound.

Isabelle smiled softly, swallowing the hope threatening to burst out – could they do that, could they have that, the family picnics, the finger painting? – and walked inside, steps quick but quiet, only betraying her presence once she was close enough by wrapping both arms around Clary and kissing her cheek.

“What are you singing?”

“It’s a Disney song,” Clary replied, laughing softly, glancing up at the ceiling. “Mom and I used to sing them all the time when I was a kid. It made me happy.”

“Disney are the cartoons you showed me, right?” Izzy asked, hold tightening a little. “With the singing teapot?”

“Don’t let Simon hear you or you’ll have to sit through all of them so many times the songs will never leave your head.”

“I could think of worse things,” she replied with a chuckle, kissing Clary’s shoulder this time.

A comfortable silence fell over them. Isabelle breathed it in – the lingering scent of fresh paint on the walls, the fruity perfume clinging to Clary’s skin, the last hint of warmth from the overly hot day – and let it flow into the cracked edges and deep scars she normally kept from sight, a soothing balm for a life of struggle and duty.

“I feel like dancing,” she said, suddenly giddy, not yet used to the idea that this, that them, wasn’t temporary, that it wasn’t going to be stripped away. That she could have this happiness. It made her feel dizzy, hopeful, like a revival, like a rebirth.

“We’ll wake her,” Clary protested, unconvincingly.

Izzy propped her chin on Clary’s shoulder so she could look inside the cradle. She seemed so small lying there, curled up into herself, thumb stuck in her mouth, dressed in that ridiculous onesie Simon had given them, the one with the white-starred blue bottom and red top and golden W.

“No she won’t, she could sleep through a demon invasion,” Izzy countered, stepping back before dragging Clary away a little so they wouldn’t bump into anything. A smirk tugged at her mouth as she linked their fingers together and raised them, placing a single kiss at the wedded union rune gracing the top of Clary’s hand.

Few things were able to completely take her breath away now, seeing as much as she had throughout the years, but one thing that managed to do it every single time was the look being sent her way. Isabelle had been loved before, she had been adored before, but not like this, not like she was the most precious thing in the world, not like someone was thankful for having her in their life, like she was the best thing that had ever happened to them or could ever happen to them.

Clary took a step closer, eyes turning mischievous, and grinned at her.

“If we’re going to dance, I have another Disney song in mind.”

Izzy raised a brow, still smirking.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“In Upendi!”

She barely had time to raise her brow higher before Clary was grabbing her other hand and circling them around – only years of training kept her from stumbling or tripping over herself and their lack of grace and coordination made her laugh unexpectedly.

“Where the passionfruit grows sweet, and it's so divine that you lose your mind as it sweeps you off your feet,” it was ridiculous, the way she was singing it, off-key and slightly breathless with their spinning.

They stopped, suddenly, and then Clary twirled her around, Izzy landing on her back-to-chest, feeling an arm wrap around her waist. They had done this before, roles reversed, when things were still new and Isabelle was showing her how to dance, leading as they swayed and dipped. Clary wasn’t as graceful or as practiced, but she was heartfelt and honest and bright, and it felt perfect.

“Without a worry or a care, it just takes two to make it true,” her voice lowered to a whisper, mouth brushing slightly over the shell of Izzy’s ear – breathless again, she leaned her head back slightly, eyes half-lidded. “Your heart will lead you there.”

Isabelle had never been the type to second-guess her heart. The few regrets she did have came from doing the exact opposite, from ignoring it entirely, from trying not to be more rational but entirely rational. It had taken her a while to find that balance, between duty and love and happiness, between a reality that demanded pragmatism and a hope for the future that demanded idealism.

She could never bring herself to regret anywhere her heart had taken her, though, because in the end it had led her here, to the pastel yellow walls and the music box on top of the dresser and the warmth of kisses pressed behind her ear, her wife smiling wider and wider with each one.

It suddenly seemed very tempting to stay in, to tell the others they couldn’t go, to call Luke and tell him he needn’t come babysit after all, to keep dancing and laughing and kissing the night away, but it was precisely when she decided to suggest it that Dot started crying.

Clary didn’t step back, just leaned far enough to the right so that she could stare at her, brow raised in a perfect I-told-you-so expression. Izzy stared back, eyes wide open and serious, managing to hold it in for a second before they both started laughing, still tangled together and swaying lightly.

 * * * * *

 “So I need you to take care of your brothers, sweetpea.”

Madzie rolled her eyes, gills flaring for a moment, but nodded anyway.

“I know, ayah. We talk about this every time you and dad go out.”

Magnus chuckled, putting the final touches on her braid, strategically kept in place by shell-adorned scrunchies. Blue and green highlights ran throughout the dark strands, courtesy of the mermaid phase she was currently going through. Given her warlock mark, it seemed appropriate, although perhaps he should be concerned with the fact she leaned more towards the will-lure-you-to-the-depths-and-kill-you kind of mermaid than the singing-Disney-protagonist kind, despite Simon and Clary’s best efforts.

“That is because I trust you with this, Madzie.”

She turned around once he was done and stared at him with narrowed eyes for a second before deflating a little. He opened his arms in invitation and she stepped in, hugging him with no hesitation.

“Okay. I’ll help.”

“Thank you,” he hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. After a moment, Magnus released her with a smile and nodded towards the door, watching her go – head high and shoulders straight like she was on a mission, so reminiscent of her father that he had to chuckle fondly.

The thought reminded him that they should leave relatively soon. He turned around on the spot and made his way back to the foyer, stopping right before reaching it to see if they were still arguing back and forth.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.”

“I know. I’m just reminding you that they have to be in bed by nine.”

“I know.”

Ah. So they were.

“And don’t let them have more than one scoop of ice cream.”

“I know.”

“And if they ask to talk to us-“

“Lightwood, if you repeat that one more time-“

“It’s been Lightwood-Bane for years now.”

“You-“

Magnus stepped in, clasping his hands together and walking gracefully but swiftly towards them.

“Alexander.”

They both turned towards him, Alec with his arms crossed, brow raised and the slight smirk he always wore whenever he was purposefully antagonizing someone, Raphael with tense shoulders and a slight tick to his jaw that betrayed annoyance, not anger. It wasn’t really a matter of trust, he knew. Once, Alec wouldn’t have trusted the vampire with anything, much less his family, but those days were long gone.

It was merely that his dear Alexander was ever the worrying parent. Not to the point of being overprotective or overbearing, both of them knew that children had to make some mistakes and occasionally get hurt to grow, as much as they hated to see it – usually. He quite clearly recalled when Madzie had broken a meddlesome boy’s nose with her fist and how absolutely thrilled Alec had been about it.

Not that they hadn’t sat her down and explained that violence wasn’t the best solution, but Magnus hadn’t been particularly upset either, given that they had spoken to the boy’s parents several times and they refused to do anything to stop him from physically starting fights with the other children, especially the Downworlder ones. It was a testament to how far they’d come in the last few years that this was an isolated case and that most other Shadowhunter parents considered that behavior inexcusable.

What also made it remarkably difficult to be upset about the entire incident was the fact that Alec practically puffed his chest out whenever he was discussing it with their friends, talking so proudly of their little girl. We break noses and accept the consequences, he had said, and Isabelle and Jace had smiled with such pride that Magnus had decided to let it go.

“Magnus.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be antagonizing our babysitter, would you?”

His fingers brushed over the breast of Alec’s deep green button-down. Getting him to wear anything other than black while working was a lost cause – no matter how often Magnus pointed out that he was the Head of the New York Institute, not of a funeral home – but it had been surprisingly easy to encourage him to try new things when off-duty. Especially if he happened to mention that they brought out his lovely eyes.

“No.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Raphael muttering under his breath – “maldito lengua larga” – as he made his way out of the room, presumably to go look for the kids. He had intended on telling him where they were, but a hand curled around his hip abruptly sent those thoughts out the window, forcing him to focus on Alec and the fingers gently brushing the edge of his bangs.

“You look great.”

“Why, thank you, Alexander,” his fingertips brushed along Alec’s jaw. “So do you.”

And he did. It wasn’t merely the clothes that suited him well, although that certainly helped and Magnus was nothing if not appreciative of his efforts. Confidence and determination suited him. Leadership suited him. Family life suited him. And, above all, love and happiness suited him.

“Thanks.”

Alec just stared at him for a moment, silent. His smile was a soft thing, all gentle curves and fond edges, but his eyes were sharp, focused and firm with trust and affection and intention, the gaze of a man who had found his place in the world and wouldn’t let even the hounds of Hell drag him away from it.

Magnus tilted his head up slightly, leaned in, and Alec met him halfway in a featherlight kiss: a mere brushing of lips, warm and open-mouthed, unhurried and unrushed, breathtaking in its simplicity. The fingers around his hip pressed in slightly, his own curled around his husband’s neck – only for Alec to pull away at the sound of squealing and running footsteps, grinning far too widely but saying nothing.

“Aren’t you going to tell the children to behave?”

“I’m sure Raphael can handle them,” Alec replied, grin widening even further. Magnus rolled his eyes, tapping a painted fingernail against Alec’s jaw in a half-hearted attempt at a reprimand.

“Children,” he called, twisting in the direction of the door. “Please spare your uncle the gray hairs! He would not be able to pull those off.”

The footsteps stopped long enough to hear Raphael’s protest before starting up again, followed by laughter and the tell-tale signs of a chase.

Alec dropped his forehead to rest on Magnus’ shoulder, shaking a little with silent laughter.

 * * * * *

 “Hey. Are you happy?”

Jace looked up from the menu to stare at him. Simon was trying to smile – only half succeeding – but the fingers tapping nervously against the table gave him away. Momentarily putting aside any thoughts about coffee drinks with ridiculous amounts of sugar, Jace reached for the tapping hand and held it firmly.

“Is this about yesterday?” “No,” Simon replied and then continued. “Maybe? Yes. I mean- I’m not doubting you, I’m really not. I just- you’re you and I’m me and- I know things are different now and everything, but I still- you know there are plenty of people who could-“

Jace released his hand just so he could cup Simon’s face, gently tugging him closer. Simon went obligingly, blinking at him, quiet now.

“Simon,” he started, voice firm and sure. At one point, Jace had thought that he would never be certain of anything ever again, but now that certainty came to him surprisingly easy. It wasn’t the same type of cock-sureness he’d had when he was younger, it was something quieter but stronger. “I don’t care. The world’s changed and even if it hadn’t, I still wouldn’t care. You’ve never looked at me differently, despite-“

Despite what he’d done. Not at the beginning, not after going with Valentine to spare them, not after the Soul-Sword, not after the war or the civil war that followed. Simon had looked at him no differently. They had stopped fighting and arguing as much, but if anything between them had changed, it was only due to a shared sense of understanding.

Everyone else looked at him like they could only see the broken pieces, the marks and the scars and the shattered remains of who Jace Wayland used to be, but Simon had just stared back – not blindly, not ignoring anything, but standing face to face, almost as if offering a hand.

Broken, too, piecing himself together from something no one could recover from, facing the stranger in the mirror, knowing the person everyone else was begging to return could never come back. When everything and everyone were too much, they found themselves gravitating towards one another, not willing to be alone but not wishing to speak either.

Slightly awkward silences gave way to comfortable ones. One day, Simon found out he could still sing, that he still liked to. One day, Jace found out that he could still smile, despite everything. Small things, made huge by what happened to them. They shared them knowing the other would understand, no matter how many times Jace made fun of Simon’s nerdiness while pretending not to cry at sad, romantic movies, or how many times Simon grumbled about Jace’s taste in coffee but still bought him the sugar-laden monstrosities.

Simon smiled at him, tension visibly seeping out of his shoulders as he turned his head to kiss Jace’s palm.

“Thanks. I meant it- I don’t doubt you- I just…”

“It’s okay,” Jace replied. “You don’t have to explain.”

He dropped one hand, the other staying in place due to Simon linking their fingers together. The noise and bustle seemed to fade to the background, Simon’s grateful smile the sole focus of his attention.

“You’re not getting out of watching Ten Things I Hate About You later.”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“What? At least it’s not A Walk to Remember! That one makes me cry every time- remember when we watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind- you started crying and then I started crying and then-“

A couple of years ago, Jace would have scoffed at the notion of crying at mundane movies or even vehemently protested the mere idea of doing that. It would have seemed stupid and ridiculous. Even later, he would have put up at least a token amount of protest. Now, it didn’t even matter. Right here, right now, Jace Wayland didn’t matter – who he had been didn’t matter, who he was supposed to be or supposed to have been didn’t matter.

What mattered was who he was and what made him happy. Listening to Simon go on and on about which sad, romantic, mundane movie Jace would like best in the middle of a coffee shop selling caffeinated sugary drinks while waiting for their friends – for their family – to arrive made him happy. Calm. Content. Like everything was going to turn out alright. If it didn’t make up for what he had done, then at least it allowed him to live with himself despite that.

“There they are!”

Jace blinked, watching Simon get up and walk towards the entrance, turning around himself so he could see the others approaching.

Clary was in the lead, taking quick strides, arms already open in invitation when she stopped abruptly, eyes widening for a moment. Her stare remained fixed on Simon’s hand and Jace felt himself smile, maybe a little smugly. Then, she let out an actual squeal and ran towards her childhood friend, not so much hugging him as jumping him – leaving two confused friends and one annoyed-looking Alec staring after her.

Simon stumbled back with a laugh, arms wrapping around her, mindless of the attention drawn their way. “Hey, hey- easy- no more vampire, remember? No really cool, awesome strength- I guess the fighting training counts but you know, there’s no like, How To Resist Hugs From Best Friends 101 or anything like-“ “Simon!” Clary said, squeezing his shoulders and jumping in excitement. The others caught up to them, brows clearly raised in confusion. “Did he- oh my God- when-“

“Yesterday,” Jace called out.

There was a moment’s pause, Simon ducking his head slightly. Clary picked up his hand, waving it so the others could see the ring on his finger – Jace promptly picked up the phone, snapping a quick picture of their faces – before dragging him back to their table.

“This is so great, guys! Congratulations!”

She hugged Jace as soon as he stood up and he held her for a moment, squeezing lightly in thanks. Maybe this should be weirder, for all of them, with all their history, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’s had enough complications for a lifetime.

“Thanks, Clary.”

She stepped back, smiling at him with suspiciously wet eyes, and then stood to the side to let the others have their turn. Alec was the first, patting Simon on the shoulder, before pulling Jace into a hug, too. He sagged a little bit, a dark memory of his return from Valentine flashing across his mind just for a moment. It wasn’t that he had expected anything different, but having the reassurance meant everything.

“I’m proud of you, parabatai,” Alec muttered, quietly. Jace blinked back tears, swallowing against the knot in his throat. A quick glance around revealed nothing but smiles and understanding and after a few moments, he was able to pry himself away. There was too much he wanted to say and not enough words to say it properly, but he didn’t have to voice anything. His gratitude sparked between them, bright and clear – Alec smiled at him, nodded and stepped back.

“You’ll have to deal with me now. Permanently, I mean,” Simon quipped up, grinning.

“You can’t be worse than Fray.”

“Hey!”

“What are you saying about my wife, big brother?”

“Nothing, Izzy.”

It was so easy, this kind of banter. Jace listened to it, let him soothe him, releasing a wet, slightly-choked chuckle.

“Well, I’d say it was about time.”

He glanced away from them to focus on Magnus, now standing by his side. Jace rubbed the back of his neck with a muttered agreement, but laughed a little and stepped into the hug once the arms were open in invitation. It didn’t last as long as Alec’s, but it was solid and comforting and genuine, too.

Magnus tapped him on the temple after they parted. There was happiness and pride in his gaze. He had helped them both through much but especially Simon, and through the most trying time of his life too. Jace opened his mouth to thank him but closed it at the wink directed his way.

“If you need any help with arrangements for the ceremony or the honeymoon, do let me know. It’s a joyous occasion and you two, my friends, deserve nothing but love,” and then, lower, while the others were still pretending to argue. “It’s alright, Jace. I’m happy to have helped, but don’t sell yourself short. You’re the one who saved you.”

Then, with a wave of his hand and a comment about Alexander’s excellent, hands-on teaching methods, Magnus stepped aside.

Jace didn’t even have time to understand what they were talking about or how the conversation had shifted to that particular topic before Isabelle was stepping up to him. She was smiling and it took him by surprise – he had expected something wide and bright but it was soft and gentle instead. Izzy cupped one of his cheeks with her hand and stared at him, eyes bright with pride and tears.

“You deserve to be happy, brother.”

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. A part of him still wanted to argue – about deserving anything, much less happiness, about redemption having to be earned, about deeds that could never be undone. Carefully, mindfully, Jace exhaled. Instead of arguing about any of it, he stared at his sister and let himself say it, let himself feel it:

“Yeah. I… I think I do.”

There was a stunned silence and then the smile he was expecting showed up: wide, full of joy and excitement as she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. He thanked her quietly before they turned towards the rest of the group.

Simon and Alec were actually agreeing on something – and if that wasn’t a sign of the times, he didn’t know what was – and trying to convince a skeptical-looking Magnus and Clary about the virtues of black coffee.

Isabelle let out an exaggerated sigh.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say immortality has made you pretentious, big brother,” she said, joking and teasing. “Be careful, a few more decades and Magnus will have you wearing Gucci.”

“I wish, my dear. Hermes had some great pieces in the spring fashion show, Alexander would look positively ravishing in some of them.”

Jace stayed quiet for a few moments, just watching. All of them had been through so much. Through too much. They were still here. Not how they imagined that they would be, but they had survived, they were still here. Despite everything, they were alive and together. They were a family.

His hands shook slightly as he took a few steps closer to Simon, grabbed him in the middle of whatever argument he was making in favor of that dark sludge he liked to drink, and pulled him into a kiss.

The conversation stopped, followed immediately by cheers and catcalls and laughter.

Simon smiled into the kiss, prompting him to run a thumb back and forth over his cheek. Jace held it until his lungs burned, lips pressed firmly against each other, slightly parted, firm and solid and sure and hopeful.

Someone made another comment, prompting the others to laugh again. Jace raised his free hand and flipped them; the laughter grew louder. Simon chuckled, placing a hand on top of the one resting against his jaw and when they linked their fingers, their rings brushed together.

Yes, Jace thought, and truly believed for the first time in a long while, he was happy.