#i would be pressed if it there were gross implications but i seriously doubt there is.

[florshedworf]

im rambling about the damn phones again

II SPOILERS‼️‼️‼️

this’ll probably be properly answered in the next or future eps but mephone’s age is so confusing to me. obviously you could just believe what steven cornelius cobbus says but then also apply the same logic to 3gs.

3gs is a YEAR older than mephone4, are they also a child? are all mephones considered children???

and here’s an even more damning example, THESE FUCKING TWO

THEY ARE A MARRIED COUPLE. AND ARE 2-3 YEARS YOUNGER THAN MEPHONE4‼️‼️

the most vile and fucked up conclusion i can come to is that the fucking cornhead PROGRAMMED mephone to be eternally a child. something something “high advanced emotion emulator”

BUT ALSO ANSWER ME‼️‼️ ANSWER ME LEST MY SLEEP BE DREAMLESS AND SOUR‼️‼️‼️‼️

[zenosanalytic]

People What Aint From Round Here Is The Problem...

So I just watched Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood and I have THOUGHTS:

Ive read a few reviews&ruminations on this film at this point and I can’t believe that none of them got(or at least, mentioned explicitly) the primary thesis of this movie, spcl given that Tarentino flatly states it out the mouth of his primary protagonist within, like, the first 15-20mins of the film: “...most important thing in this town is when you’re making money you buy a house in town. You don’t rent... Hollywood real estate means you live here. You’re not just visiting, not just passing through. You fuckin live here.” i.e., the most important thing in Hollywood, to Hollywood, is the people FROM Hollywood; Everyone else is just a filthy, trouble-making tourist or profiteer who is “Passing Through” and “Doesnt Get It” and  “Is Fucking It Up”(It being the film industry), and probably “Secretly Hates Movies”. There are places and aspects of this movie that are basically a Nativist Angeleno rant, written by a life-long Angeleno film-nerd-turned-film-maker, against Hollywood’s critics(and his critics which he just totally conflates with the former), and probably non-Angelenos(and non-Californians?) in general.

There are two ways to read this thesis: Straight and Subverted/Satirized.

The evidence for reading it straight is pretty plentiful. Lots of reviews have puzzled at where the line connecting the constant hippie-bashing, the weird focus on knocking Polanski’s Polishness & preference for shooting in London, and the inexplicable pot-shot at Bruce Lee is, and I think this is it. “The Hippies” are repeatedly presented as a corrupting force: digging through trash, living in squalourous filth at the Spahn Ranch dragging members of “Old Hollywood” like its owner into it with them, selling drugs, and using sex to “control” men. And attached to this is presenting “The Hippies” as foreign; not only from another place, but refusing to assimilate with the LA way of life and hostile to it. The Manson family are the only explicitly identified “Hippies” in the film(other than, possibly, the one who sells Cliff an acid cig). The only “positive” portrayals of Bruce Lee in the film are silent ones of him teaching anglos kung fu, which has some fairly obvs and well-understood Implications.

But there’s also good evidence for reading it as subverted and satirized. Both Tate and Dalton are NOT from California, let alone LA, and Booth’s origins are left unclear. Dalton’s the only one of them explicitly id’d as being from elsewhere(Missouri), but Tate’s easy to google and she was a military kid who grew up all over the place. When Dalton returns from Italy, that sequence and his look in it are VERY reminiscent of the scenes introducing Polanski at the beginning of the film. The side-characters around Tate, perennially shown in a positive light, are also non-Angelenos. Doing Spaghetti Westerns revitalizes Dalton’s career, despite his disdain for Italian cinema. Tate and her crew, while not explicitly ID’d as “Hippies” and often shown in Mod and other fashion styles, are also presented in “Hippie” fashion, shown listening to “Hippie” music, smoking the “Hippie” Reefer(Im sorry, but Comedy Demanded this phrasing and I am Devout u_u), and implied to be living a polyamorous “Hippie” life.

It really is difficult for me to say which predominates. On the one entirely metaphorical hand, the ways in which Dalton’s Angeleno chauvinism are subverted and mocked are fairly obvs, but on the other emh, the film is FILLED with LITERALLY GLOWING nostalgia for this pre-Hippy, pre-Lefty, pre-70s, Conservative and Republican California&Los Angeles. Dalton’s focus on property-ownership&the film industry in the opening thesis could easily be seen as resolving these subversive contradictions to allow for a straight read(ie: Tate, Booth, and Dalton are “Hollywood People” who’ve both bought real-estate in LA, and who’ve grown up in film or film-adjacent fields and choose to center their adult lives in the film industry). So much, in fact, that I kinda started to wonder abt QT’s politics while watching it. And, if it WAS satirical, then what’s the point of the knock to Bruce Lee and focusing criticisms of Polanski on his Polishness and shooting in London? Is that just meant to characterize Dalton and Booth as nativists and racists?

It really cannot be said enough that there are REALLY MORE APPROPRIATE CRITICISMS to make of Polanski than 1)begin Polish, 2)possessing boyish effeminacy, and 3)preferring to shoot movies in London instead of LA. Which are this movie’s only problems with him(though it also takes the time to show him bitchily smoking a cigarette in an evening gown while being rude to a dog). Obvsl I dont object to villainizing an ACTUAL REAL LIFE VILLAIN like this shitstain, but I DO object to being asked(albeit gently) to participate in this film’s understated nationalist bigotry.

It’s possible that Cliff’s turning Pussycat down during the drive to the ranch was intended to be this but I highly doubt it. And if it was it’d be misrepresenting Polanski’s misdeeds enormously, considering that Pussycat, the too-young girl, is the sexual instigator in this film. Polanski liked to manipulate, drug, and rape underaged girls(he pulled the same shit with models in Europe before getting busted for it in LA, btw, then continued doing it after fleeing back to Europe); really not the same situation.

There’s another irony in that, while the film goes out of its way to call Polanski “boyish” and imply that makes him feminine and that this is Bad, there’s also a subtle under-current that... Tarentino sees himself in his youth the same way? He’s certainly never been short like Polanski and Jay Sebring are/were, QT’s 6 1, but the actors he cast to play them and the description made of the pair in-film are more than a bit reminiscent of how Tarentino looked&was discussed in the press back in the 90s when he was starting out. AAAaaand the film explicitly calls that Tate’s “Type”; leaving me with the question: would Tarentino be able to stop himself from implying a dead starlet would have been attracted to him? I leave the answer to your imaginations, Dear Readers u_u

Having said all that it IS a really good film, which I liked, I dont think it’d be very hard to set aside this political stuff while watching, the driving sequences are especially emotive&exhilarating, and there’s some seriously great acting in it. IDK if I’d say I liked it more than the recent Emma movie, tho.

I feel like each of the trio, Tate, Dalton, and Booth, were meant to symbolically Embody LA/Hollywood/California? Like Pitt especially seemed to be channeling movie characters and CJ from GTA: San Andreas throughout his performance, while I couldnt help but think of Ronald Reagan watching DiCaprio(spcl given the character’s likely politics). So there’s this sense in which the film is a fantasy of “Old Hollywood”, embodied by these three, Vanquishing its “Enemies”, represented by The Hippies(moralizing, pretentious, gross leftist) and potentially Polanski&Lee(foreign film ppl who refuse to integrate into the LA scene). Again, given the political history of Cali after this era, this embodiment raises some questions for me abt the film and QT’s politics(particularly in re: misogyny and feminism).

Also DiCaprio is totally going to get pitched a Reagan biopic off of this role and I sincerely hope he has the good sense to turn that shit the fuck down.

Circling back to the ranting at his critics, this movie was definitely and consciously a response to them. Like: up until the last 5-15 minutes of the film, and aside from a handful of too-lingering too fetishistic too on-the-nose creep shots of the female cast that Tarentino simply could not stop himself from making, OUATiH is precisely the sort of “Serious” film Tarentino’s critics have been saying he should make for decades now(of course he did Jackie Brown, which was that and which he blew Completely out of the park). And then there’s that bloody, gross-out, exploitation-movie ending. I dont actually think it was as bad as many critics were saying it was? For some reason I was thinking there was gonna be a massacre of the ENTIRE Manson family, which would have been totally out of left-field. But it WAS clearly a stinger of a major tone-shift thrown in as a Fuck You to the ppl who’ve called out his violent and exploitative preferences throughout the years. As for me I generally like his movies and think he’s a great filmmaker but he absolutely does go too far sometimes.

Rick Dalton, in an evening-gown, with a mixer full of iced-margarita in one hand, getting all up in the face of the driver of a loud exhaust-spewing jalope in his PRIVATE STREET was TOTALLY Tarentino himself :| By which I mean NOT ONLY that That’s ABSOLUTELY the sort of cameo he would have given himself 30 years ago and if it made any sort of sense at all in the film(which here it wouldnt have, obvsl), BUT ALSO that I feel 94% confident that Tarentino has actually done that at least once in his lifetime :| :|

I think the monologue&interactions T gives Bruce Lee leading up to the fight were probably more insulting to him than the fight itself. Contrary to popular discussion, it isn’t Pitt’s character totally trashing Lee, he gets in one good throw after Lee repeats a successful attack at his request(which I doubt Lee would have ever done from what little I know about him; not being predictable in a fight was his whole Deal), but rather an even duel between them(most of the fight is just the two blocking each others’ attacks). I dont think the film was trying to say “Lee was full of hot-air”, if it wanted to say that it’d have shown him getting trounced instead of showing him knock Booth down then trade him blow for blow, but more “Lee was pretty arrogant and a bit pretentious”.

OK, that’s abt all that I can think of right now: thanks for reading ^v^

[pixiesstolemyapples]

Stormy Nights Chapter 9

A/N: This is a repost, it came to my attention that none of my tags were working! So hopefully my tags will work now since I’ve been working hard on this fic for everyone! So I do apologize if you’ve already seen this, I just hope it works this time! If you would like to read this chapter on my FanFiction or my AO3, please click the links! And as always, please enjoy!!

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9

                Pidge had never felt so happy in her life. She had amazing comrades, she'd traveled to so many far off places, met so many amazing and interesting people. But the best of all was that she got to go to sleep next to the person she loved every night only to wake up every morning wrapped in his loving embrace. She'd been doing that for months, but... it was different now. Everything was different now.

                They loved each other. Actually loved each other. And the rest of the team was finally seeing it in action, in real time. Shiro was still skeptical, Pidge still a little irritated by the comment he had made before, but she chalked it up to the fact that he was just worried for her, like a big brother would be. She knew his comment wasn't meant as a jab at her character, that in the past it was a fact that Lance went for tall, drop dead gorgeous, tall ladies. He apologized to the both of them, giving Lance the benefit of the doubt. After all, he and everyone else knew that Lance was in no way the type to just prey on cute girls.

                As for her actual brother, despite the with your sister remark (which despite its implications, Pidge had to laugh at, come on), Matt was growing on Pidge and Lance, hard. Pidge wasn't sure if he was just happy she had found somebody or that he didn't have to worry about her as much, or if that anybody had to have a special place in his sister's heart, he'd want it to be Lance. All she knew was that Matt actively tried to talk to Lance, ask him questions, hang out with him when he could. Pidge was just happy they were getting along.

                Allura may have been the best out of all of them (or at least second to Hunk). In the week or two since everyone had found out about them, Allura had closed in on Pidge's tailfeathers whenever Lance wasn't around. Allura hadn't had a significant other in more than 10,000 years, but that wasn't about to stop her from having some good old girl talk with the only other girl on the ship, besides her little mouse friend. And now Pidge had a boyfriend, so they could really girl talk. And as much as Pidge thought it would, talking with Allura about those types of things didn't even make her feel awkward. It made her incredibly proud actually that Allura saw so much of a friend in her that she wanted to talk to her about personal matters, day to day topics, or even about a certain paladin residing in the castle. Whatever the case, Pidge was happy to talk, happy to hang out, happy to have as good of a friend as Allura.

                "You know," Hunk said one day as the three of them sat in the common area playing a board game called Knights of Valor, rolling some dice and moving his little yellow knight four spaces, "you two seem a lot happier since you finally started dating."

                Lance and Pidge both looked up, Lance's arm stretched over the back of the couch, Pidge sitting sideways on the couch, leaning into Lance's side. Pidge and Lance looked at each other for a moment.

                "I guess we had never really defined it until now," Pidge confessed, picking up a card and moving her green piece on a space near the lake. Lance just smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the back of her head. "And, I mean... I know I'm happier, why wouldn't I be? Lance is my first boyfriend."

                "Ahhh," Lance mused, laying his head back on the top of the couch, "I gotta say, I love hearing you say boy- wait!" he exclaimed, sitting forward, his head whipping in Pidge's direction. "Did you say first? I'm your first boyfriend?"

                Pidge peered over her glasses, shrugging her shoulders.

                "Soooo," Lance questioned, trying and failing to mask the smile threatening to spread across his face. "Was I your first kiss, then?"

                Pidge looked away, her eyebrows knitting up. "Obviously..." she murmured, a sad look passing over her face. "I wasn't exactly the most popular person at my old school, Lance..." she explained, running her finger along the seam of the couch. "I got made fun of most of the time, there wasn't really anybody who ever liked me enough to want to kiss me..."

                Lance scrunched his eyebrows, looking over at Hunk as he shot him a concerned but sympathetic look. Lance hadn't thought much of it if he were being honest, if only maybe occasionally, and at that it was mostly when Shiro brought it up not long before that. All Lance saw was an incredibly smart, quick witted, funny, badass girl. Plus she was gorgeous, as much as Pidge didn't want to admit it. Lance wished she could see how amazing she was. He loved everything about her; he loved her honey colored hair and the way it tweeked up in random spots; he loved her amber eyes that glittered like a geode in the sun; he loved every single freckle on her body, her person like a detailed star chart of the cosmos; he loved her laugh, like music to his ears, like strums from an acoustic guitar. Someone could ask him to name one thing about her and he'd have a whole list of wonderful things that would read off as an elaborate sonnet. He loved her confidence, but even she faltered at times, especially when she thought of her past. He just wanted everyone else to see what he saw.

                He pulled her into his lap, Pidge gasping at the sudden movement. "I like you enough to kiss you," Lance murmured, giving a look so smolderingly hot that it made Pidge instantly blush. She smiled, gently touching her fingers to his smooth jaw, pulling him close enough for their noses to bump against each other.

                "And I'm so glad you do," she whispered, their lips barely brushing against one another. She felt his arms tighten around her.

                "You really don't know what you do to me," he muttered, lightly closing the gap between them, feeling a fluttering in her chest. Just as she felt Lance deepen the kiss, they heard dice roll, quickly pulling away and looking toward Hunk, who they had nearly forgotten had been sitting next to the coffee table across from them, nonchalantly moving his little yellow knight in one hand, his chin sitting in the other, happily staring up at his two best friends.

                "S-Sorry, Hunk," the two said simultaneously. Hunk laughed, waving his hand as the other laid on his chest.

                "You guys are so gross!! Get a room!!!!" Hunk mocked, the two laughing along with him.

                "But really, I don't want you guys to ever have to worry about that," Hunk said, scrunching his eyebrows in seriousness. "You guys just seem so happy and... well, I'm just so..." Hunk stammered, looking down. Finally crossing his arms on the coffee table, he looked up with a sweet smile. "You're my best friends, and as long as you're happy, I'm happy. So please, just... be as happy as you can be."

                Pidge beamed at Hunk, smiling so wide her eyes crinkled. How in the world did she become so lucky in finding such a fantastic friend in Hunk? He'd been so incredibly supportive in just about everything he did for them, cooking their favorite foods, hanging out with them, laughing and goofing around with them, especially his support as the yellow paladin. He protected and provided such important aid to them, in so many different ways. They surely could not live happily without Hunk.

                "Soooo," Hunk murmured as Lance moved his blue knight around, "I'm right, aren't I?" Lance and Pidge both looked up inquisitively. He side smiled, an almost wise looking expression passing over his face. "You're both way happier since you started dating."

                Pidge blushed, chuckling as she felt Lance plant a hard kiss on her cheek. She leaned into him, curling her fingers into his jacket. Once again, Hunk proved to be incredibly intuitive. "Yeah... we're definitely a lot happier, Hunk."

                After their game was finished, they both bid Hunk good night, the two of them heading down the hall and into their room. Lance was the one who decided that it was their room, no longer just his room. While at times they alternated between her room and his room, the two tended to play video games until they were tired so they would just crawl into his bed. Plus Pidge's room was a hoarding messy trash heap. His words, not Pidge's. Although she couldn't exactly argue with that. But since then, she had a few belongings in his room, some clothes in his drawers. Even her trash floofs found their way over to his room. No, their room. And he'd be lying if he didn't admit that it made his heart pound just thinking about their room.

                Finishing his bathroom regimen, Lance walked out of the bathroom and padded down the hallway. The door whooshed open, Lance walking in and seeing an oblivious Pidge sitting cross-legged on his desk chair, coding on her laptop and humming a song to herself. She had her bangs pinned up on her head, away from her forehead. Seeing her sitting there, one hand on the mouse, the other casually pinching her lip between her finger and her thumb, made his chest swell. There was something so beautifully... domestic about it. Lance almost smiled at how peaceful she was in that moment as he walked into the room, but he stopped in his tracks when his ears registered the song she was humming. His breath stopped short, feeling his heart drop into his stomach. He silently padded up to the chair, gently setting both his hands on its arms, leaning toward her, roughly whispering, "Katie."

                "AAUUGHH!!" Pidge jumped from the chair, nearly dropping her laptop, pressing her hand to her racing heart. "Lance!!" she huffed, setting her laptop on the desk, glaring at him. "You scared me!"

                "Where did you hear that song?" Lance asked, his lips pressed together, his eyes serious as he stared down at Pidge.

                Pidge's eyes got big, her cheeks flushing red. "U-Uh, wha-what?"

                "Where did you hear that song, Pidge?" he asked again, taking a step closer to her.

                Pidge frantically looked for words to say. She hadn't even realized she was humming it! "W-What, so I like Spanish music, is that a crime?"

                "I never said it was a Spanish song," Lance said, crossing his arms. Pidge's face burned a fiercer red, looking down at her toes. "Where'd you hear it, Pidge?"

                Pidge forced her brain to overwork, desperately trying to find an excuse for why she would know that song. Couldn't possibly be because I was snooping around the bathrooms, could it? Maybe? She tugged at her sleep pants, scrunching her eyebrows together in thought.

                "I dunno... I... I must have heard it on a Spanish radio station a couple years ago!" Pidge laughed nervously, stepping past him to get to their bed. Lance sighed, shaking his head and grabbing her wrist.

                "That is impossible, Pidge."

                "What?" Pidge asked incredulously, turning back and peering at him from over her glasses. "How's that?"

                "Because my dad sang that song when he married my mom," Lance said, his eyes softening but his eyebrows knitting together. "My dad wrote that song, I grew up to him singing that all the time to my mom. Where did you hear it, Pidge?" he asked again. He loosened his grip on her wrist, his hand sliding to grasp her fingers. "Please, just tell me?"

                Pidge blanched. His dad wrote that song?? She felt so stupid. She couldn't believe she had been caught in such a bald face lie. She was ashamed. And the look on his face... she felt so hurt in her heart for lying to him like that.

                Pidge sighed, sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, Lance doing the same, facing her as he waited patiently for an explanation.

                "So..." Pidge began, blushing and looking down at her feet. She peered into his face, his eyes focused intently on her, Pidge looking back down and scrunching her thick eyebrows together. "Well... now I'm embarrassed..."

                "It can't be that embarrassing, Pidge," Lance said. He just wanted to know, it's not like she committed a heinous crime. "Please, just be honest with me."

                Pidge sighed, poking her toes absentmindedly, peering up into his face. His ocean blue eyes were soft, and despite his concern they were calm. His eyes searched her face, finally settling on her own eyes, staring deeply into her. She peered back down, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. He has no business looking that cute.

                She inhaled a breath. ".... You sing in the shower..."

                "What?" Lance said, his face turning red. "What do you mean I- What were you doing sneaking around in the showers?!"

                "I wasn't sneaking around!!" Pidge exclaimed. "I was taking my own shower, and the walls in the bathrooms are amazingly thin.... B-But when I realized you only sang when you thought no one was around, I... I-I," she sighed, "snuck into the opposite showers and would listen to you sing until you were finished..."

                "You were sneaking... So you know I sing in the shower?" he murmured, peering into her eyes sheepishly.

                Pidge nodded. "I'm sorry.. but I just loved hearing you sing, and that one particular song was just so beautiful and I didn't understand what it meant, but I just felt like it was so loving and romantic that-" Lance's stomach dropped, an intense feeling ripping right through him.

                Lance pulled her by her ankles flush into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and smashing his lips to hers, a surprised "oomf!" escaping her throat. It was such a quick movement, Pidge barely registered what was happening. His lips moved swiftly against hers, a fervent desire heavy between the two as her ankles hooked around his back. Pidge wrapped her arms tight around Lance's neck, Lance moving his head to get a new angle on her lips. She shivered as his tongue touched hers, threading her fingers through his chocolate hair to deepen the kiss further. She gasped, feeling the touch of his warm fingers touch the skin under her shirt, pushing it up and feeling the cool air hit her exposed skin. The two fell back against the mattress, Lance peeling his lips from Pidge's, pressing quick kisses to the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jaw, finding a spot behind her ear, pressing his lips firmly against her skin. Pidge quickly inhaled a shaky breath, biting her lip at the sensation. His hands moved further up her waist under her shirt as his mouth met her lips once more, her shirt riding along all the way up her chest, Pidge feeling her breasts flush against his soft sleep shirt. She shuddered, murmuring incoherently against his mouth. Lance's eyelids fluttered at her quiet sound, suddenly breaking apart from her, sitting up and backing away toward the end of the bed.

                "Shit, Pidge!!" he exclaimed, covering his eyes so fast with his hand Pidge could hear his hand slap against his face. "I-I-I'm so sorry!! I dunno what came over me!"

                Pidge quietly sat up, peering his way as a blush crept its way onto her cheeks. "I-It's okay, Lance," she whispered as she pulled her shirt properly back down her waist. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed what just happened. It was a different feeling, one that wasn't exactly unpleasant in any way. Pidge looked his way, seeing that his hand was still over his beet red face. She giggled, gently removing his hand from his face and holding it on the bed between them. "Are you okay?"

                "I-I'm fine," he said with a chuckle. "I just think, I think that... hearing you hum that song, saying that it was beautiful and romantic, I... I just had such a reaction to it, and just thinking about what it means to my mom and dad, and that someda-" Lance stopped short, his eyes getting big, forcing himself to stop what he was about to say. He began to nervously laugh. "Never mind. I'm just... I'm sorry, Pidge."

                Pidge's pupils dilated, her heart beating so hard in her chest she thought it may explode, millions of butterflies fluttering around her stomach. She smiled a genuine, soft, loving smile. "Don't be sorry," she whispered, moving toward him to plant a short kiss on his lips. He took her face in his hands.

                "I love you, Katie..." he murmured as he laid them back down once more into the soft mattress. Pidge snuggled close to his side, feeling one of his arms hook around her waist, pulling her closer. She sighed, relaxing as she closed her eyes. That's when she heard him. His lilting voice gently pierced her ears with his soft, deep Spanish words, digging deep into her chest as she felt her heart beat harder and harder with every rolled R. She couldn't understand most of the words, but she could at least understand mi amor, or estoy enamorado... Te necesito...

                "Te amo, Lance," she roughly whispered, hearing him stop for just a moment to softly laugh and press a heartfelt kiss to her head. She curled her fingers into his shirt as his intense, melodic voice began again, lulling her off into an incredibly happy and comforting sleep.

***

                The distress signal sounded off, Allura and Coran quickly heading to the main deck to retrieve it. Coran projected the call up onto the big screen in the back of the room, a light blue woman with ears like a fox and the teeth of a boar appearing in front of them, her piercing yellow eyes in deep panic.

                "Paladins of Voltron!" she gruff, high pitched voice exclaimed over the monitor, a boom startling her from behind, her breathing fast and labored. "W-We need your help! Our base is being attacked by a small Galran fleet, b-but we are outnumbered!! At this rate, our base will be destroyed!"

                "Vremni!!" Pidge called out, barreling onto the main deck, concern washing over her face. "What's going on, where's Matt? Can you send your coordinates?"

                "Matt is currently away on a mission, Pidge, he's fine!" Vremni said, another loud boom sounding behind her. "I have no idea how we got located all the way out here, b-but there's nothing we can do now! Sending coordinates! Please get here as quickly as you ca-" The transmission cut off, the screen going blank.

                "Team, get to your Lions!" called Shiro. The team quickly left for the Lions' hangars, changing into their paladin gear before boarding. "This is an incredibly important mission. It is imperative that we all stay focused if we are to keep this rebel base intact and more importantly, save the rebels currently in that base."

                Coran set a course for the coordinates sent by Vremni, everyone quickly traveling through the wormhole. They weren't expecting such a battle going on, even for a small rebel base such as this, quite a few of the rebel forces already fighting for their lives. Allura used her Lion to encase parts of smaller Galra ships, Hunk using his cannon to blast those pieces to smithereens, almost completely incapacitating those ships.

                Pidge was firing her laser, encompassing an enemy ship in vines when she received a fuzzy but operational transmission, a disheveled red faced rebel with silver scratches on his face and orange eyes appearing before her.

                "Mukdack, what is your status?" Pidge asked frantically, hoping that the rebels were going to get out of this okay. But the look on his face said otherwise. His thick accented voice was panicked, but otherwise understandable.

                "W-W-We are fine for now, Pidgeon," he said, her name coming out as pidge-ee-in, " but we may not be for long. Our shields are down, and our only engineers are currently incapacitated!"

                Pidge nodded. "Okay, listen to me, Mukdack," she said quickly, "I'm coming to help, I need you to get the rest of the rebels on base to your pods and get out of there for now. You hear me?"

                "Loud and clear, Pidgeon!! Please stay alert!" And with that, the transmission ended. Pidge switched her comm.

                "Allura, Lance!" Pidge called, the two sounding off immediately. "I need you two to cover me until I can get into the base. If I can fix the shielding system, we may be able to hold the Galra off and keep this base from being destroyed.

                "All right!"

                "You got it!!" she heard the two of them say simultaneously.

                She guided Green quickly down toward the base, Lance's face suddenly appearing on her monitor. He smiled a fierce smile, but one that had a look of underlying concern and worry. "You be careful, Katie," he said gently. "You got that?"

                "Heh, you got it, Sharpshooter," she mused, giving him a cute wink.

                Lance snickered, smugly licking between his lips. "Hey, you come back safely, I'll show you why they call me Loverboy-"

                "LANCE!" Hunk appeared on the screen, his face blanching, Lance nearly rolling with laughter and Pidge giggling with her hand up to her mouth, a soft blush covering her face.

                "Guys, can you please focus?" Shiro suddenly growled, Pidge swearing she could him muttering "nasty freakin' teenagers" under his breath.

                Pidge got serious, landing Green in the hangar, stepping out quickly, periodically looking down at the map projecting from her arm communicator and heading toward the base's circuit breakers on the middle floor. She slid into the tight space, immediately touching her fingers to the screens, quickly finding the shields page and desperately trying to work her technological magic. The further she went into the process of fixing the shielding system, the more she realized something was incredibly wrong. The shielding system was offline, not only that, the coding for the system was also completely off. Could it have been a weird malfunction? Pidge thought to herself. Nevertheless, despite the anxious feeling in her chest, she pressed on, recoding the system as quickly as she could. Just one last code and-

                Pidge's heart sank. Her skin crawled. Her face grew pale, her eyes growing wide. She shakily brought her arm up, her fingers trembling as she pressed the buttons on her communicator.

                "M-M-M-Mukdack...." she murmured, her teeth chattering. "H-Has everyone b-been evacuated?"

                "Yes, Ma'am, Pidgeon!!" Mukdack quickly replied. "Is everything okay? Pidgeon?"

                Pidge sank to her knees, her chest so heavy, her stomach so nauseous she thought she may vomit. She had only just realized then that her hearing was muffled when she suddenly heard a loud voice in her ear.

                "PIDGE!" a loud voice rang frantically.

                "Y... Yes...?" she murmured.

                "What is going on??!" Lance shouted. Pidge stared back in front of her, her shoulders trembling, her fingers feeling cold.

                A countdown. The shielding system had been sabotaged. The rebels must have been infiltrated or had a traitor or something, Pidge didn't know. All she knew is that the enemy would have known Voltron would show up to a distress signal, and that one of them would go in to help if they took out the remaining engineers of the base. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

                Pidge hadn't even heard herself explaining the situation to Lance, but she suddenly heard him screaming at her to get out of there. Pidge blinked, looking back at the clock. Roughly two doboshes. Pidge willed her legs to move beneath her. She ran. And she ran and ran, but only one thought pierced her mind with every long stride her short legs could carry her.

                I'll never make it.

                "L-L-Lance..." she said breathlessly, still running as fast as she could despite the feeling of dread spreading throughout her body. "Lance, I-I-"

                "Pidge, no. Just get out of there, Pidge, get out of there," she heard his frantic voice tremble.

                "Lance!" Pidge cried, tears streaming down her face. "I-I-I love you so much."

                "No.. No, Katie, don't say that, don't-!"

                With every stride she took, she could see her life flashing before her eyes, her small hands holding her dad's finger; playing with her dog; her mom's peanut butter cookies; sitting next to Matt reading a book; her time at the Galaxy Garrison; laughing with Keith and Hunk; hugging Allura; the first time her and Lance kissed; telling him she loved him. Pidge bit her trembling lip, closing her eyes.

               "Katie!! Katie! Answer m-" Lance screamed, tears pouring down his face as he raced his Lion toward the rebel base, orange, red and yellow flashing as the base exploded before his very eyes.