#theyre both very nice and i have known them over a decade theyre like a second family

[jasnstilnski]

me 🤝 my cat 🤝 anxious around my flatmates dad and brother

[reidsmissmatchedsocks]

sexuality headcanons for the bau!!

hotch - this man screams bisexual to me and i dont even know why. he just gives off the vibe. i feel like he has a preference for women but still very much loves men. emily was the first person he came out to (gideon had known but he found out on accident when hotch forgot to change the pronouns while talking abt an ex) since he knew he could trust her with that sort of thing after she came out to the team. shortly after haley died he decided he was tired of hiding this part of himself and came out to the rest of the bau, starting w rossi and then telling reid, morgan, garcia and jj at the same time. they were all very supportive and garcia gave him a little bi pride flag for his desk :)

emily - gayest bitch in the whole show. this woman takes wlw simping to a whole new level w the yearning shes been doing for jj for the last decade. she came out to the team very randomly while they were out at a bar. she slapped her hand on the table and said loudly, “id just like u all to know im a homosexual” and then walked out. everyone was kinda dumbfounded at first but obviously very supportive and happy she felt comfortable enough to tell them. she goes to pride every year and owns a lot of lesbian pride flags. morgan always laughs at her and teases her whenever he sees her obviously checking out someone and is happy he has someone to comfortably talk to abt girls. she gives the guys dating advice claiming shes “the master of dating women” even tho it took her over ten years to build up the courage to ask out jj. rossi finds this fact very funny

garcia - this woman is pan and u cannot tell me otherwise. fuck gender she loves everyone and is only interested in a persons amazing personality (since she prides herself on her ability to judge character) and how willing they are to flirt in public and how much they enjoy pda. garcia never really felt the need to come out assuming everyone just knew already but after emily came out she decided to keep a set of pride flags in her office and she has a pan flag on one of the walls plus an array of different pan themed things. one day rossi asked what the flag was for and she went in detail explaining different sexualities, flags and the significance. she finds the history super interesting and loves going to pride. she also wheres a little pan pride button on her shirts everyday because she thinks it looks nice :D

morgan - bisexual man. do i have to say any more? he never really came out but after seeing him flirt w enough guys while they were out everyone got the point. has a mini pride flag on his desk he got from garcia and a matching flag pin he wears on his shirts most days. he goes to pride w garcia and spencer every year

rossi - unlabled!! hes mostly had relationships w women but that doesnt mean exclusively. he likes men sometimes and has had relationships w them in the past but hes not quite sure which label fits him and thats okay!! hes never specifically stated his preference or sexuality to any of the others but they wouldnt be surprised if he got a bf, moreso surprised he got into a relationship at all

reid - biromantic demisexual!!! it took reid a long time to figure himself out, getting bullied a lot through school w various slurs thrown at him every day not helping. once he was in college he started to realize his attraction to both men and women and it scared him. he also felt like he was wrong for not wanting hookups or flings, he couldn’t understand the appeal. he pushed away a lot of his feelings, too scared of judgement from other people. that changed when he got to the bau tho, he had a family who loved and. supported him and he started to realize maybe it wasnt just him who felt this way. he ended up opening up to garcia after finding out shes pan and she lets him no they love him no matter what and theres nothing wrong w him. she helps him explore labels until he figures out which ones fit and gives him advice on coming out. he comes out to morgan first, hotch soon after, then emily, jj and rossi. they all are super supportive and loving ofc and reassure him that nothing can change their feelings towards him. theyre family.

jj - jj is bisexual!! she is obviously in love w emily but she also was in love w will for a long time. she never came out to the team officially but they all knew and she kept small bi pride things around her office. shes generally less of a gay mess than the rest of them but she definitely has her moments. she goes to pride every couple years w emily and sometimes hotch if they can convince him to tag along. she figured it out at a young age and never rlly doubted her feelings, just being happy w herself. she loves herself and her identity

[tigerdrop]

hey i just wanna say the long posts genuinely make my day. also can you talk more about gordon freeman character because the way you write him makes me quake in my gay little boots

i would love to talk about gordon freeman. thank u for the opportunity

the first thing i need to communicate about gordon is that this dude sucks. and i say this in the fondest way possible. he is a bitch from the moment he drops into the world until the moment he goes out. if you dont believe me, give it another watch! gordons mouthy and rude for no real reason, at least so far as “being a regular dude on his way into work” goes, and this dude goes around calling his coworkers names with zero provocation. (of course, we all know that the reason is because its a funny guy improv stream that borrows a bit from freemans mind, but im talkin from a character sense.)

but my argument isnt just that gordon freeman sucks. its that he sucks in a very specific way that i find insanely endearing. i love this dude. i love to hate him. hes awful in a very mundane sense - weve all known a guy like this, at least if youve spent too much time online - and its cathartic to watch him suffer because of it.

gordons a smart guy. as written, hes gotta be - hes a recent MIT grad, on his way to work at a top-secret research facility to do weird shit with crystals and theoretical physics. but the thing about smart guys is that theyre often......selectively intelligent. we can see this in the way that he has a hard time navigating his surroundings, and needs the science crew to guide him through it and keep him alive.

this is one of those things that is a natural consequence of somebody going through the game for the first time, but that i am interpreting as “gordon is kind of stupid sometimes”. its uncharitable but its not like he doesnt deserve it. he likes to boss around the crew as if he knows what hes doing, when he often very much does not, and is fond of demeaning their intelligence. hes real bad about this with tommy in particular, treating him like hes a kid whos playing at being a scientist when tommy is actually a decade older than him. all i am saying is that gordon ought to stay humble. hes awful cocky when he perceives himself as better than others.

which, i think, tracks with how cocky he gets when he gives up on the whole “well-meaning citizen” thing and just unloads bullets into people. he puts up a front of being a Nice Guy, you know, just some dude caught in a bad situation who doesnt like seeing his companions obliterate every NPC they come across, but that doesnt stop him from cackling like a fucking madman and mowing down aliens (and soldiers) every once in awhile. when he stops seeing himself as helpless and starts seeing himself as the one in control, the gloves come off. he gets mean. and i think thats very sexy of him

this, among other things, is why i am insistent that gordon freeman is a control freak. he desperately wants to be in control of the situation at all times, shepherding around the science crew primarily by bitching at them, but its of limited success. its futile. sisyphean. tommy, coomer, bubby, and benrey exist almost to torment him with exactly the thing that would make him suffer the most: a gaggle of people running around causing problems for him, but he cant go anywhere without them b/c hes reliant on them to make it out alive.

its perpetual suffering, and its cathartic to watch. and funny, too. and if youre a little weirdo like me, its very, very enjoyable. how twisted up he gets when nobodys listening to him! how sweaty and frazzled he must look. its cute, and it also makes me want to reach through the screen and shake him and tell him to just be a little nicer. he wants control but he doesnt know how to attain it, he doesnt know how to play nice like a real leader. i think its a neat contrast to gordon freeman as we know him in HL2, where he literally is the leader of the resistance and has to live up to it. this is gordon freeman but if he was moe through helplessness.

“helpless” is, i think, a great way to describe him. a core bit of imagery in half life is this sense of railroadedness and helplessness, with gordon freeman being put into play like a chess piece and having no choice but to move forward. and this iteration of gordon leans into that by being totally dependent on the science crew in order to make progress and Not Die. and hes also subject to the whims of benrey, local eldritch weirdo who has basically made it his life mission to fuck with gordon.

gordons anxieties dont help with that. if he wasnt so fun to stress out and fuck with, the science crew probably wouldnt do it so much! too bad for him that they like fucking with him so much that he was driven into a panic attack (multiple times, even, depending on your interpretation). hes got that real neurotic mindset. always worrying about shit that could go wrong, and attempting to exert control over his surroundings in an effort to control the anxiety.

IMO the real way to nail the Neurotic Gordon Freeman Experience is to combine the ever-present anxiety with his pervasive sense of self-loathing. he openly states that he has no friends and nobody seems to like him, and to that, i really gotta say, i wonder why. he doesnt really seem to factor in that hes kind of a bitch, and has way too high an estimation of his own intelligence relative to everybody elses. its really one of the worst ways to be: aware that people dont like you, but unaware of exactly why. if he was like, 10% nicer, he probably wouldnt have had half as many issues getting through black mesa, but also, its funny to see him squawking his way through the game. so, you know.

its stuff like that that makes me headcanon him as a dude with low self-esteem in general. convinced that hes not likable, not attractive, out of his element......impostor syndrome, except that theres some truth to it. this is a guy who truly does not realize how good he has it: he really is just an average shitty dude, and yet, somehow, benrey took a shine to him. some poor motherfucker out there actually likes him and wants to suck his dick. thats dedication

also, i keep bringing up “repression” when i talk about gordon. and hopefully, what ive been talking about helps explain why. he has a strong desire to be a regular dude, not just murdering his way through black mesa, but if hes pushed hard enough he leans into it. gets bossy. picks up a cigar off a dead soldier and takes a long drag, before smacking forzen around with a pistol and ordering him around. gordon freeman is a regular, kind of anxious guy who likes competitive swimming and streaming on justin.tv and making anime references, and he is also a guy who takes a filthy pleasure in making a trained soldier his bitch. and i didnt make up any of this shit - this is purestrain canon, baby. this is a guy with problems

to me, this screams the kind of guy who represses a lot of shit b/c he doesnt feel like its morally decent. you run into this guy a lot online: the wokeboy, the online leftist, the guy who spends too much time on social media websites. (like reddit. i think he would actively use reddit and he would never get any appreciable amount of karma but he never stops posting. its sisyphean! cathartic.) from the way he talks about “bootboys”, i think it tracks. he knows about imperialism, he knows about feminism, but at the end of the day hes your average american white dude who struggles with internalizing it.

a lot of those dudes struggle with sex and gender issues. (dont we all.) when youre trying to be a Good Person(tm), you spend a lot of time thinking about your own relationship to sex and kink and all that shit. and i maintain that a too-online dude who buries a lot of his control freak tendencies would also try to bury a lot of weird sexual shit in an attempt to seem Normal and Well-Adjusted and not like a little freak. i justify this by the sheer number of times gordon blurts out weird sex shit as a joke. there are only two outcomes to making that many piss jokes: either youre secretly a piss guy, or you lathe-of-heaven yourself into becoming one. i will stand by this

ive talked a lot about why this dude sucks. now, let me talk to you about what makes gordon so much fun to write. first things first: hes funny! a subjective evaluation, yeah, but both in- and out-of-character, hes aiming to be funny. and being the straight man to everybody else plays into that whole “helplessness” thing.

secondly: underneath it all, there is a good dude under there. gordon worries when his companions get hurt, he tries to clean them off and patch them up, and hes got his lil leftist heart in the right place. you could even read a lot of his bossy, bitchy demeanor as him wanting to make sure everyone gets out okay and doesnt hurt themselves. when it comes to animals and anti-imperialist sentiment, gordons a pretty good guy.

hes the kind of guy who would probably see a dog on the street and get excited and play with it, but would get really prickly about the correct way to put dishes in the dishwasher. control freak tendencies.

finally, subjecting such a miserable, tormented guy to even more psychological anguish is really, really fun. you feel a little bad for him, but he kind of deserves it. so many problems he goes through are purely of his own making, and if gordon would just relax and quit trying to hard to maintain control - of himself, of the people around him - and own up to having Problems and Issues, he would be a happier guy. but thats why its fun to bend him until he breaks. being a little control freak myself, putting gordon freeman thru psychosexual torment is cathartic.

when it comes to writing his thought processes, the fact that he is canonically some kind of psychotic (yes, i am boldly claiming this. suck me) and i am also canonically some kind of psychotic makes it easier to write what i think his thought processes are. i just give him my brain issues of “getting lost in thought” and “overthinking fucking everything”. a touch of paranoia helps. even if i dont explicitly label him as schizophrenic please know that i am writing him as a paranoid little nutcase at all times because, uh, you write what you know.

paranoid. anxious. of the mindset that everyones out to get him (which isnt helpful when everyone is out to get him). repressed and deeply Not Normal but trying so very fucking hard to be normal and well-adjusted. a control freak with sadistic tendencies who also really, really likes getting bullied by his best frenemy. a hapless little nerd who sounds really cute when his voice starts to break from nerves. and, most importantly, a dumb jock. do not ever forget this.

thats gordon freeman, babey. hope that helps

[blondecarfucker]

Bed of Roses (1988 Special)

Roger Taylor x Reader BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: It's 1971. You just moved to London to study, and you find a band on a local pub after a bad date. The encounter doesn’t go the way you expect it, and neither does what follows this evening as you try to deal with loving Roger Taylor.

Fic Note: So I’ve had this story in my head for the last three weeks and finally decided to write it down. It’s completely planned. It will have 21 chapters and it’s divided in three acts: Dusk, Night and Dawn. It’s will be a bit angsty in the future, and it will most likely have some smut as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! Tell me what you think about it in the asks/comments/messages. If this is your first time stumbling upon Bed of Roses, thank you for stopping by! The rest of the story is in my masterlist, the link is in my bio - can't put the link here or else the post will disappear from the tags.

Chapter's notes: so this is not even a real chapter??? i mean, it doesn't have a number - it's really a reallll epilogue, you really get to know what happen in the eleven years that follow the end of the story. this wasn't really on my outline - i just kept thinking about the characters cause theyre SO CUTE and DESERVE THE BEST and im an absolute softie so i couldnt help but write this. its probably a bit messy cause im tired atm but im happy i wrote this and i want to share it with you guys already. im curious to know what you guys think about it! - also, just making it clear, there's no story for a sequel, so there's no sequel coming. just so you guys know. thanks again for stopping by and reading my story and being AMAZING. im a bit rusty i guess so sorry about the size of the chapter

Words: around 2.8k

1988

You heard Roger hitting the drums as you opened the studio door.

"Hey, Y/N", Freddie said, coming to hug you. "It's your man recording", he told you, and you nodded.

"I see", you answer, and Jim comes closer to Freddie and says hello to you. You really like the way they feel at ease with each other - it just looks natural. It's been long ever since you saw Freddie so peaceful.

But Roger soon showed up in your field of vision, having just left the recording booth. "Babe, it's so good to see you", he said, hugging you by the waist. "Good seeing you too, Rog. What are you guys recording?, you ask, and Deacy answers.

"It's 'Rain Must Fall', just wrote it with Freddie", he says, as Freddie listens to Roger's recording.

"It's still not right", he says, and Roger sighs. "Be right back", he tells you, going inside the booth.

Now that you're paying attention, you realize it's latin percussion. "This is really nice", you tell Freddie, and he smiles. "Thanks, darling. How's the museum? Did it fall apart after you spent a month away?", he asked, and you laughed.

"Actually, they've been holding up quite nicely", you say, referring to the period you've just spent with them in Montreux. "They're getting used to it, I suppose", and he nods.

You and Roger have been taking turns the last decade on who's gonna spend time along with the other, but now, after you've got your PhD and was promoted to Senior Curator, your job could be done without official office hours, so you've been following Roger around a bit more - which is nice, especially when he's in Montreux, such a calm place you thought about retiring there, in the future.

"And this outfit, too, I love it. You look like such a serious business woman" Jim said, pointing to your tailleur. "I have to look the part, Jim", you shrug, and Brian laughs. "I miss your yellow Chuck Taylors days, Y/N", he says, and you laugh. "These shoes are killing me, so I do, too", you tell him.

"I won't invite you to dance, then", Freddie said, and you frowned. "Please do, Freddie. You know how I love these latin inspired songs of yours", you pouted, and Freddie laughed, extending a hand to you.

You could feel Roger's eyes watching you through the glass as you danced with Freddie. Rain Must Fall reminded you of Cool Cat, and even though the Hot Space days, in 1981 were complicated, it reminded you of an afternoon with Roger on a yacht on Lake Geneva, the two of you drinking mimosas and sunbathing as Montreux glimmed under the Riviera sun.

"God, I hate this fucking song", Roger said, sipping on his mimosa.

"It's not the best", you agreed, and he laughed.

"This fucking album, I swear to God. If it wasn't for you here, I would've dropped this", he said, and you got up to prepare another mimosa for you.

"Don't say that, Rog. You wouldn't drop the band", you said, and he sighed.

"You're right. But I would drop this album, though. This song, even - I didn't take part in anything regarding the production. I just watched, like you watch a car crash", he says, and it's your turn to laugh.

"You're so dramatic", you tell him, mixing the orange juice and the champagne. "But seriously, babe. Do you even like the songs we're making now?", he asks, and you take a sip of your drink.

"I like Under Pressure", you say, and you're happy to see his face lighten up as he laughs. "Of course you do. I'm impressed you didn't ask Bowie for an autograph yet", he said, and you laugh along. "I have to stop myself from fangirling every time he's around, you know. It's pretty hard, but I do my best not to embarass you", you told him, sitting by his side.

His sun kissed skin made his eyes even brighter than usual - like lapis lazuli on bronze.

"Like I try not to embarrass you by looking stupid when we're on one of your fancy dinners?", he asks, hugging you by the side. "Exactly", you told him, pressing a quick kiss on his lips. He tasted like orange.

As you now kept dancing with Freddie, Jim pulled Deacy for a dance too, and eventually everyone was dancing to Roger's percussion. Each had a different level of success, and you were trying to help Brian when Roger finished his part.

It made you happy to have moments like this. After A Kind Of Magic, in 1986, the band was fighting constantly - it made you sad to see such thing. Roger even created a side band, The Cross, and he worked with them for a while before reuniting with Queen for this new album.

You were always a huge fan of his solo work, but you never connected with The Cross - and you felt like he didn't, either. They never really challenged him, and anything only gets better after receiving honest feedback.

But now Freddie wanted to produce again with the rest of the band - as much as they could, non-stop. They wouldn't even tour after this album, The Miracle. You felt like Roger knew exactly why these changes happened, but he didn't share them with you. You didn't really mind - it was not only his privacy, but the privacy of the rest of the band members. The fact that he was trustworthy enough to keep his friend's reasoning behind a polemic decision private only made you love him more.

"Babe", Roger called, walking over to you. You hugged him, his known smell now more refined, cologne mixed with the patchouli and substituting the cigarette smoke - you both quitted smoking, since you heard it could be harmful for little ones.

"The kids are with their nanny, right?" Rog asked you, and you nodded.

It was 1982 when you realized you couldn't keep your breakfast - you vomited every morning, almost religiously, twenty minutes after you ate.

Roger was immediately concerned on the phone - you spent two weeks in Mexico for work, and it was only when Roger spent a weekend there at the end of your trip that he told you not to drink the tap water. So you were both convinced you had some parasite, and Roger took you to a doctor - he liked to spend time with you when you were both in London, even in boring activities, since you still lived in separate flats, always trying to take it slow - even though you felt like a teenager when you had to pack to stay a weekend at your boyfriend's house - and you considered talking to Roger about moving in together again.

The doctor soon realized there were no parasites inside you, but there was a baby - a 3 months old little boy, in fact, as the doctor confirmed after taking you two to the ultrasound room.

You could never forget Roger's face once he understood what the doctor told the two of you. He was going to be a father.

But the realization that you were going to be a mother took a little longer to hit you. It was only when you heard the baby's heartbeat that you really understood what was going on inside you - a baby. Your baby. Roger's baby.

Proof that you were together, proof that you belonged to each other, that you loved each other.

"This is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard", Roger told you, and you smiled in agreement.

Nine months later, Apollo was born.

You agreed on Apollo because you always thought about how Roger reminded you of Apollo, and it did remind you of New York, too - the Apollo Theater was a landmark only a couple dozens streets above the apartment you grew up in.

But Apollo was much more like you than he was like his dad. He inherited his dad's dirty blonde curls, but his eyes were just like yours, and so was his personality - he was very determined, liked to be alone, and a full blown nerd. He taught himself to read when he was four, and now, at age 6, he liked to read The Hobbit by himself.

He didn't speak with an English accent, oddly enough, even though he was raised in London - he spoke water like his dad, but copied your accent in every other word.

Roger would hold him and hug him and always spend time with "his little guy", always telling him how proud he is to be the father of a genius, and Apollo's cheeks would be flushed pink, just like yours did when Roger told you how smart you are.

When Apollo was born, you both agreed to move in together into a big family home, but you filled the walls with artwork and tapestry, and Roger made sure there was always good music playing - it didn't feel like you were abandoning your old selves to become parents; it felt like a natural step.

And for financial reasons - mostly to protect Apollo and to make taxes easier - you and Roger decided to get married. He tried to play the practical part, reaffirming marriage was just a title and the two of you were way beyond that, but you knew, deep down, that he was incredibly happy to get on his knees and propose.

It was a simple ceremony in 1984 - close friends and family under the hawaiian sunset, the Lana'i Island's atmosphere made you feel like you were in a dream. With a simple cotton white dress, you reunited with Roger - in a half open, white cotton button up - in front of a licensed marriage performer, and you became Ms Taylor.

Roger used any excuse to call you Ms Taylor, savoring the name on his tongue just like he did with your lips on honeymoon.

Apollo was 2, and stayed with his grandparents for a week as the two of you enjoyed your honeymoon on paradise. "It's funny how this is like, the millionth time I feel like I'm on honeymoon with you", you tell Roger, and he pouts. "If you consider honeymoon everytime we go somewhere amazing alone and keep fucking like teenagers, then yeah. But this is special. This feels more… I don't know. Official", he said, and you agreed.

And all that young love had a result - you soon found out you got pregnant again after a routine blood test. Roger was, again, the happiest man on Earth.

You felt calmer this time around - a kid and responsibilities didn't ruin your relationship with Roger the first time around, and you were actually pretty good parents.

So when Live Aid came about, you were huge - you enjoyed the many performances, but when Queen was onstage, it felt different. You could remember when, almost fifteen years ago, you saw these guys broke, rehearsing and travelling around in a van.

Now they were here, and in a day filled with performances from stars, they shined the brightest.

You don't know if it was all the emotions you felt watching them, but once you finally got home, the sun about to rise - Apollo long asleep - you sat down to prepare a warm bath for the two of you, but you felt something warm running down your legs. Your water broke.

You and Roger ran to the Hospital, and after a few hours, Artemis was born.

She screamed, not cried, once she first looked at you and Roger, almost annoyed - like she was sad she missed the show.

Artemis was a logical name choice - Apollo's twin in greek mythology - but the kid also got her strong will. She looked just like her father, big, round blue eyes and pink, full lips soon learned to express what she desired and complained when things seemed wrong in her perspective.

At the early age of three and with a reduced vocabulary, she convinced the two of you to get the smallest drum set you could find, and she tried to repeat her fathers movements on it, still too small for her tiny kit, but proud of the loud noises she made, hitting it recklessly.

Roger looked at it as if he was seeing a miracle.

The kids were raised primarily in London, but they spent some time in Montreux, when the band was recording, under their father's care, or on tour when you could stay with them - tour made the kids so confused about their whereabouts that it needed a conjoined effort - but now that the band was recording in London with no plans for long periods away, it was going to be interesting.

Apollo was just getting started in school, and soon it would be Artemis turn. They still had no dimension of their fathers - or their "uncles" - importance, but you and Roger talked about this, waiting for the day you'd have to explain your life for the kids, who you were before you were their parents.

You wondered if Apollo would think back on the time he went to dad's work and he was dressed as a woman - he couldn't recognize Roger when he was Rogerina while recording the video for I Want To Break Free until he took his wig off.

It was a better reaction than John's kids had, screaming in fear of the old, scary and tall lady that tried to pick them up.

The latest video recording was incredibly sweet, actually - it was for The Miracle, the single, and the band was going to be interpreted by 11 year olds. The kid that played Freddie was absolutely brilliant, mimicking all of his signature moves.

But it was the kid that played Roger who stole your heart.

As you watched the tiny Rog rehearse, you couldn't help but imagine Artemis hitting her drums - maybe in a few years, she'd be able to actually play something.

You also thought about Apollo, how he'd look like an even younger version of Roger if he was sitting on the stool, bouncing his curls and pouting in concentration.

You really loved the life you lived now, and when you looked back to all the drama that went between you and Roger so you could get here - two happy, fully realized people; and two great parents - you'd do it all again.

You kept thinking about it as the kid rehearsed Roger's part in the song, until you felt a familiar smell fill the air around you, and an arm snaking around your waist.

"Hello, beautiful stranger. Are you lost?", Roger whispered, his husky voice still able to give you chills.

"I am, actually. I can't find my husband, and I came here just to see him before work", you said.

"How did he get so lucky to have you?", he asks, and you turn around to kiss him.

"Actually, I'm his good luck charm", you say, pulling him closer to you.

He was ready for the shoot, so you felt bad when you broke the kiss and realized you transfered part of your lipstick to his lips.

"Shit, your makeup artist is going to kill me", you say, trying to wipe it away.

"It's fine", he says, kissing you again. "So I'm picking Apollo from school today, right?", he confirmed, and you nodded. It would always amaze you how you found your own level of responsibility, of the feared and dreaded domesticity, without losing the passion you had for each other. Taking it slow.

But now, back in the studio, you said goodbye to everyone, and followed Roger to a limo.

You always had your nights out - nights where you'd stay in a fancy hotel room just for the sake of being together in different ambiances. You two learned from your trip to Paris how it makes you more in love with each other, the new place making you fonder of what you know and love - in your case, Roger.

So when he popped open a bottle of champagne while you undressed, and once you were only in your lingerie, Roger took his own shirt off, knowing to pass it to you - a ritual, really.

You both went out, relaxed and comfortable, and enjoyed the view.

The Thames was below you, and you could see the entire city - if you tried, you could point where the bar you first met was, and Kensington Marked, and the first flat you shared. London was a huge part of your story.

"Let's make a toast", Roger said, and you nodded. "To what?", you asked, but you knew the answer.

You've been together for almost twenty years, now, so it's normal for you to know what to expect from Roger. But it doesn't feel boring - it feels like home.

"Us", he says.

-

Taglist: 

@taylorroger-s @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @its-nessi @anamcg317 @frenchieswiftie @queen-danielle-dani-dan @minihemo @shutup-sorry @theyrealllegends @killerqueenisthebest @ashagracelove @hardy-s @fuckinghurricanesoul @secretsweetscollectionblog @mrswinterhater @11mb0 @tamtam-go92 @derptatosaur @brianandthemays @phantom-fangirl-stuff @the-hysterical-queen @rogerofmylife @notevenlxvely @discodeakyy @x1975sos @16wiishes @jennycidesstuff @partydulce @melros-e @onevisionliz

[sp4c3-0ddity]

Jumpstart Your Heart

it feels like it’s been a while right?? well, it’s been raining for a few days every week for about a month, so take ~4400 words of post-canon fluff (where Allura lived though it doesn’t really matter tbh). enjoy!! 

Pidge’s car refuses to start.

Fat raindrops steadily pelt her windshield, the lights in the Target parking lot blurring through the streaks of water on the glass. The chill of the winter air fills the interior, her breath misting out in front of her, and when she turns her key in the ignition, all she gets is a stuttering choking sound.

Pidge growls as her forehead falls against the steering wheel. All she wanted from Target was a jar of peanut butter and a bottle of orange juice for tomorrow’s breakfast, but all she got was stranded.

(Well, and the peanut butter and juice; those, along with a bag of cherry-flavored licorice that looked really good on the shelf but tasted awful the instant she tore apart the first strip, lay safely inside a paper grocery bag on the backseat.)

This is fine though! She was a Defender of the Universe - she was in worse situations before launching into space in a blue, lion-shaped weapon of mass destruction. What’s a little car trouble to a Paladin of Voltron?

Pidge drums her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking…she has a jumper cable in the trunk, right? Or, no, she let Hunk borrow it last time he was on Earth and forgot to ask for it back. Maybe another total stranger in the parking lot would have one - and a working car battery - and be willing to help her out? If they need convincing, she can even put on the old gremlin Pidge voice for them.

What drained her battery anyway? It’s not like she has to worry about leaving her headlights turned on when they’re supposed to turn off automatically!

Wait, when was the last time she had the battery changed?

“Quiznak,” Pidge grumbles when she realizes she’s never changed the battery. She spends all day - and sometimes night - designing some of the most advanced ships and weaponry in the universe, but her own damn car still has the battery she bought it with.

She’s going to have to call for help.

Right as the thought crosses her mind, her phone vibrates in her jacket pocket. She fumbles for it with stiff, cold fingers, expecting it to be her mother wondering if she’s home yet (never mind that she moved out of her parents’ house and into her own Garrison-issued apartment almost a year ago) only to be greeted with an alert from the weather service.

A flash flood warning for her county of residence.

“This is fine,” Pidge tells herself despite her heart skipping a beat in alarm. She’s never seen it rain this hard and for so long in this corner of Arizona; is a tsunami of muddy water about to wash across the Target parking lot and sweep her and her traitorous car away while she deliberates?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she mumbles, scowling at her rain-streaked reflection in the window. “Tsunamis occur as a result of earthquakes, and I’m nowhere near the coast.”

But what if the dam on the river—

Pidge unlocks her phone and dials the first number on her “recent calls” list without glancing at the contact name. Her leg shakes, but she can’t tell if it’s from agitation or the shivers occasionally gripping her.

“Pidge!” Lance greets her cheerfully at the other end. “How’s it going? Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, but since when do you—”

“Lance,” she cuts himself off, “do you have a jumper cable?” Usually speaking to him on the phone leaves her a tad breathless and her palms so slick with sweat she risks dropping anything she’s holding - why does a simple phone call feel so intimate anyway? It’s weird; she calls her parents and brother on the phone all the time! - but now urgency steadies her voice.

“Right to the point, huh?” Lance muses with a chuckle. “Where are you?”

“Uh…the Target by the state highway two miles off-base,” Pidge tells him.

Lance laughs and wonders, “The peanut butter at the commissary not good enough for you?”

Her face warms - is she really that predictable? - but she muffles an irritated groan with her sleeve. “The commissary’s not open this late.”

“Yeah, I guess you could’ve just walked there too,” he adds.

“In the rain?” Pidge snorts. “I’m not crazy enough to risk pneumonia like you.”

“Hey, sometimes I like the simple things,” Lance says, “and one of those is walking around in the rain.”

As if on cue, the downpour becomes a torrent, the sky dumping buckets of water on her car where she sits huddling in the driver’s seat. “Oh, really?” Pidge retorts, rolling her eyes. “You’d better not walk here unless you want me to use your quintessence as if it’s a thirteen-volt battery.”

“Please, I know you need another car to jumpstart your battery,” Lance says. “And since you asked so nicely, I’ll even bring you my umbrella since I’m guessing you didn’t bother with yours when you left.”

Pidge slumps in her seat, tugging her hood over her face as if he’s there to witness her embarrassment when she admits, “That would be…nice.”

(Too bad an umbrella won’t keep puddles from soaking into her socks.)

“All right, hang tight, Pidge!” Lance says. “I’m already in my car, so I’ll be there in a bit.”

Huh, so some of the rain she hears is on his end. “I’ll be here,” Pidge mumbles, “waiting for you…as usual.”

“Hey, don’t be like that!” he says over the rumbling of his car’s engine. “Your knight-in-shining-armor - your very own Sir Lancelot - is on his way to rescue you!”

“Great!” Pidge says with false cheer. Sure, Lance is coming to get her, but she’s still stranded in the rain after the weather service broadcast a flash flood warning to her phone. “Just don’t die because you’re talking on your phone while driving in the dark during a storm.”

“If the Galra and a bunch of other crazy aliens couldn’t kill me, this won’t.”

Pidge runs her fingers through her rain-soaked ponytail and grumbles, “It better not, so please put your phone away and concentrate on driving.”

“All right, fine,” Lance says, and she can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “I thought you found the sound of my voice soothing or something…”

Ah, right, she told him that a few nights ago when she made the mistake of calling him after a nightmare kept her from falling back to sleep.

"It's not like I'm about to have a panic attack now," Pidge bites.

"You sure you're okay, Pidge?"

The concern in his voice...startles her; is he worried a tsunami will wash her away too?

Well, she already decided that fear is completely irrational, so she forces a smile onto her face and says, "I'm fine now that I know you're on your way, Lance."

"Uh—" He breaks off with a cough before he falls silent, the only sound coming from her phone the low hum of his car's radio.

"Lance?" Pidge prompts. "Are you—"

"Fine!" Lance exclaims brightly. "Great since my car still has a working battery! I'll be there in ten minutes, so see you, Pidge!"

He hangs up without giving her the chance to reply.

Pidge, not a little confused, stares at her phone's screen until it darkens, her brow furrowed. She's known Lance for the better part of a decade, but his behavior can still be such a mystery to her, especially of late. It’s almost as if he l—

Maybe she should just take the direct approach and ask him if anything's eating at him.

Luckily Lance doesn't leave her with enough time to really puzzle over it. His car's headlights flash obnoxiously - the jerk has his high-beams on! - through her windshield as he pulls into the parking spot in front of hers. A heartbeat later the driver's door swings open and Lance steps out, opening a Sailor Moon umbrella.

(She makes a mental note to ask - or tease - him about it later, and she won't take "It's my niece's" for an answer.)

He raises a hand and waves, his face barely discernible through the water splattered on her windshield, but she opens her door when he rounds his car.

The sound of the rain was muffled with her ensconced insider her car, but now it hammers down, pattering against Lance's umbrella and hitting her face as she turns to him.

"Hope you didn't miss me too much," Lance says, voice louder than usual to make himself heard over the rain.

Pidge raises an eyebrow and points out, "I saw you at work on Thursday." Never mind that something in her chest loosens at the sight of the smile - warmer than this quiznaking miserable weather - curling his lips...

"And yet you were desperate enough to drain your battery just for an excuse to call me for help." Lance's smile morphs into a smirk that has the unfortunate side effect of both irritating and endearing her.

Pidge snorts and mutters, "As if I need an excuse." She presses the button to pop her hood open before turning back to Lance. "Where's the jumper cable?"

Lance jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "In my trunk. Just wanted to make sure you were okay first." His gaze drifts over her, making her skin crawl with heat, but then he assesses, "You look a little cold."

Pidge rubs her arms, his comment reminding her of her trembling. "No k-kidding, so can we hurry up and jumpstart my car?"

"Okay, okay." Lance raises the hand not holding onto his umbrella defensively. "I forgot how bossy you are."

"I'm not bossy!" she retorts, but by then he's already retreated to his car, the rain covering up the sound of her voice.

But not the sound of his feet splashing through puddles.

Pidge sighs. What are the odds Lance knows how to jumpstart a car? Will he know on which terminal the black clamp goes? Will she need to show him?

Lance is a pilot; of course he knows how to do something so simple as jumpstarting a car, especially if he owns a jumper cable! But Pidge should step outside and hover near him...just in case.

Pidge winces the instant water soaks into her shoes - she should've worn boots rather than sneakers - but follows Lance to the front of her car. His umbrella handle is tucked awkwardly under his arm while he works on attaching the clamps of the jumper cable to her car's battery, his brow furrowed rather sweetly in concentration, at least until Pidge takes the umbrella.

He glances up in surprise, turning to her with wide eyes before a slow grin stretches over his lips. "For a tick I thought you were going to make me do this alone."

"Maybe if it wasn't raining," Pidge teases. She raises the umbrella over both their heads, huddling under its poor approximation of shelter.

(Lance is a better source of warmth anyway.)

Lance attaches a red clamp to the positive terminal on her car's battery and the black clamp to something metal. She trails after him to his car but can't help wondering, "You shut the ignition off, right?"

Lance frowns at her. "Can't you see the engine isn't on, Pidge?"

She smiles sheepishly and says, "Yes, now that you point it out."

"Then quit micromanaging me."

She shivers as he attaches the remaining two clamps to his car's battery, rain soaking into her clothes despite her efforts to stay under the umbrella. Her cold fingers loosen around the handle, too stiff to hold on properly, and she can't help a relieved shudder when Lance tells her it's time.

Her engine roars into life, a gleeful laugh escaping her when Lance whoops over the sound of two engines and the rain. "Perfect," she mumbles. "Now to let it charge for a few minutes..."

Her engine shudders and dies.

"What?" Pidge exclaims, her heart jumping into her throat. She smacks the steering wheel - as if that'll do any good - and groans, "No..."

A tapping on her window makes her jump, and she opens her door to Lance, sans Sailor Moon umbrella with his hood pulled over his head. "Didn't last, huh?" he observes regretfully.

Pidge shakes her head, slouching. "I'll have to buy a new battery in the morning," she says, "and..." She bites her lip before wondering, "Can you give me a ride home?"

Lance meets her eyes before he smiles and says, "I'll do you one better. You can spend the night at my place, and in the morning I'll take you to buy the battery before bringing you back here."

Pidge's jaw drops, but when she recovers - though her cheeks still feel hot enough to warm the interior of her car if only all the doors were closed - she says, "Lance, you don't have to do that. I can call my dad tomorrow and—"

"So you'll make me drive twice more in the rain?" Lance says, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow - which, frankly, looks absurd with his hair plastered to his head and water dripping down his face. "And one of those times without you to supervise me and make sure I don't commit some atrocity like texting while driving?"

Pidge throws up her hands and asks, "What are you, a teenager who just got his license?"

"Nope." Lance leans down, close enough to her level she can imagine the warmth of his breath touching her forehead. "Just a concerned friend who wants to do you a favor."

"Do you...owe me something?" Pidge wonders suspiciously.

"Come on, Pidge!" Lance rests his hands on her shoulders and shakes her slightly. "Let's have a sleepover like we used to on the Castle! You'll get warm and dry and be able to fall asleep to the sound of my oh-so-soothing voice if you want"—is he...blushing?—"and I'll even feed you. I might even have some hot chocolate mix and bread for you to slap some of that peanut butter onto if you want."

"But...I need pajamas," Pidge protests, though she knows she's already fighting a losing battle. "And a toothbrush—"

"I have an unused one," Lance says with a dismissive wave of his hand, "and I'll lend you something to sleep in. So...what do you say?"

Pidge's jaw flaps uselessly, taking in his hopeful expression and wondering if she can really make an objective decision about this with her heart hammering - does she really want to spend the night with Lance? - and with his obviously faked guilt trip.

"Fine," Pidge grumbles. Lance grins so brightly, his fist pumping, that she can't help a smile of her own.

But that doesn't stop her from warning him, "On one condition: I am not sharing my peanut butter with you."

Lance's car hydroplanes twice on the way to his apartment complex a few blocks from Garrison premises. Pidge holds tight to her seat belt, her heart bouncing in her chest until tires touch wet asphalt again.

Both times, she turns to Lance and socks his shoulder before saying, "Quit trying to kill us!"

Both times, he screeches in indignation and rubs his shoulder before retorting, "Quit trying to kill me!"

Both times, she retorts, "I barely hit you!"

And both times, he snorts before rolling his eyes and smiling with a fondness that makes her heart skip a beat for a reason that has little to do with fear that he'll skid off a cliff or into an overflowing canal.

"Relax!" Lance says after the second time. "I've got this, Pidge. I've driven in the middle of a hurricane before, so this is nothing."

Pidge crosses her arms. "You do know I have your mom's contact information and I can literally call her to fact check that claim?"

Lance laughs but presses a hand to his chest. "Oh, Pidge, you wound me by not trusting your old war comrade's words." When she continues to stare at him with her lips pressed together, utterly unimpressed, he scratches his ear sheepishly and confesses, "Fine, it was just a dying tropical storm, but come on!" He gestures broadly and adds, "We've been in the middle of space dogfights, so this really is nothing."

Pidge, in the end, can't fight her smile at the reminder - for all the misery that all caused her and her family and her planet - but she turns to the rain-streaked passenger window to hide it. "Just keep both hands on the steering wheel," she mumbles.

"As you wish, my dear Pidge," Lance says almost snidely, and she's pleased when he actually listens.

His apartment is familiar - she's visited many times by day or dry evening to play video games or watch a movie while eating takeout from that bizarre "Earth-alien" fusion place on the corner - but the walk from Lance's assigned parking spot to the door on the second floor deck feels long in the downpour.

Before Pidge can open the passenger door, Lance's hand on her arm freezes her. "Wait," he says. "I'll come around with the umbrella so you don't get too wet."

"You don't have to—" But his door shuts behind him, and Pidge barely sets foot outside - right in a puddle that soaks into her sneakers and the hems of her poor leggings - when he's there to greet her.

"By the way," Pidge says as he raises the umbrella over both their heads and she unthinkingly loops her arm through his, "what's with the Sailor Moon?"

Lance flushes, but he hides it well by reaching around her to grab her grocery bag and shove it into her free arm. "It's my, uh, niece's."

Pidge smirks. "I knew you'd say that."

"Let's just go inside," he grumbles.

They hightail it, running awkwardly standing close together under the umbrella before they give up on it and sprint full tilt, splashing through puddles with raindrops hitting her face and soaking into her hair when her hood flies off her head.

Pidge storms up the stairs ahead of Lance, and when her foot nearly slips out from under her, her breath escaping her in shock, he catches her around the waist. But she doesn't pause to consider the imprint of his touch on her, and by the time he unlocks his door and they pile into the warmth of his apartment, Pidge is shivering too violently to do much more than stand in her soaked clothes and tremble.

Lance shucking off his own wet jacket is enough to get her to move. She tugs hers off, handing it to him to hang on a hook from the shower rod in the bathroom, before kicking off her sneakers and peeling off her disgustingly wet socks and sinking her toes into the warm carpet in front of a vent blasting hot air.

Pidge shudders in relief, squatting in front of it as she combs her fingers through her sodden ponytail. She'll have to do something about all the tangles now too...

Lance clears his throat behind her, and she stands to see him handing her a towel and a set of old clothes. "You can, uh, change in the bathroom. I'll be in...the bedroom...changing my own clothes."

"Right." Pidge watches him retreat, his back to her while she admires the way his soaked shirt clings to his shoulders and shows off how the muscles in his back move.

And then he pauses in his bedroom doorway to glance over his shoulder, his eyes widening when they catch hers.

Heat rushes to her face when he turns back around and stretches his arms over his head with a groan before tugging off his shirt.

Pidge spins on her heel and buries her face in the towel he gave her. Did he do that because she was watching?

"Quiznak," she curses, her voice muffled in fabric.

Despite the chill she just escaped, Pidge splashes cold water onto her face once she's safely ensconced in the privacy of the bathroom. She's just here to spend the night, to accept the favor Lance offered her with no strings attached (for now), to maybe chat and play games with him before she catches a few hours of sleep on his surprisingly comfortable sofa.

No, she won't think about running her fingers through his damp hair or tracing the Blue Lion tattoo that peeks out of his shirt collar or feeling his breath warming her face or press her lips against his like she's wanted to do for years.

No, she won't think about damaging almost a decade of friendship for a kiss he might not want.

(But what if he...does?)

Pidge changes into the clothes Lance provided - an old, baggy t-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts with drawstrings she has to tie very securely - and brushes her teeth with a toothbrush she finds under the sink buried in a stockpile of beauty and hygiene products. She leaves her hair in its ponytail and figures it’ll be one problem to tackle in the morning.

She emerges from the bathroom and heads straight for the kitchen, intent on the snack she craved enough to leave her own apartment to drive to Target in the middle of a dreary winter storm. She locates a bag of bread in the fridge and pops two slices in the toaster before shrugging and helping herself to a Granny Smith apple. She cuts it up and dips the slices directly into the jar of peanut butter.

That’s how Lance finds her, sitting on the kitchen counter munching on apple slices and crunchy peanut butter right as the toaster disgorges her burnt toast.

Pidge offers him the jar. “Want some?”

Lance - looking comfortable in a bathrobe over his pajamas - stands across from her and raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t sharing with me.”

“I changed my mind out of the kindness of my heart,” she deadpans before her sarcasm fails and she flashes him a smile. She shakes the jar and nods at the toast. “Hope you don’t mind that it’s a little burnt?”

Lance laughs. “Lucky for you, I don’t.” He takes the slices - wincing and gasping “ah!” when they prove too hot - and drops them into a plate before grabbing a knife.

They share their snack quietly, with Lance leaning against the counter beside her. And when it’s a little too much - when his arm brushing against hers makes goosebumps rise across her skin - Pidge blurts, “Thank you.”

Lance turns to her, his eyes wide. “For…what?”

She bites her lip and stares at a fleck of peanut butter stuck to her middle finger. “For coming to get me in the middle of a storm and letting me spend the night even though I live literally ten minutes away.”

Lance smiles when she dares to glance at him. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t invite you over?”

“A…sane one, maybe.”

He snorts and walks off to wash his hands at the sink. “Good thing I’m crazy about you then.”

“Yes, good—” Pidge stares disbelievingly at the back of his head, her breath catching and heat flooding her and…yes, Lance’s ears are definitely turning red. Maybe she misheard her or just misinterpreted him. He can’t possibly have said what she thinks he did. “What?”

She holds her breath as Lance turns to face her, something intense but…familiar in his gaze, almost trapping her in place. Her heart pounds too quickly as he approaches her, one step at a time, every second dragging yet passing so fast when he stands right in front of her too soon.

“Lance,” she says, and she might’ve hated how breathy it sounds if he didn’t capture her lips in his the instant his name escaped them.

He pulls away too soon, barely giving her the chance to reciprocate, but the heat in his eyes and his body so close to hers and her own swirling thoughts and rising emotion make her slow to react, her tongue tied into knots.

Until Lance wonders in a low voice that sends a shiver up her spine, “What’re you thinking, Pidge?”

“How fitting it is that our first kiss tasted like peanut butter,” Pidge says, because for some reason that’s the first thing that popped into her head.

Lance’s jaw drops - obviously he wasn’t expecting that - but then he chuckles and asks, “Why?”

“Because I love peanut butter.” She rests her hands on his shoulders and tugs him closer until he stands between her knees within easy kissing distance.

She takes advantage of it immediately.

Pidge kisses Lance in the way she almost convinced herself she never would, hungrily, with her lips parted over his and her fingers gripping his robe. One of his hands cradles the back of her head, and the other sits on her knee, his finger only just brushing against the bare skin of her thigh under her borrowed shorts.

Her heart races as she tears away to gasp for breath before finally telling Lance, “But I love you more than peanut butter.”

“Oh, good!” exclaims Lance with a dazzling smile that she matches. But he clears his throat and flashes her a smirk. “I mean…my work here is done. I was starting to worry I’d have to break you two up.”

Pidge rolls her eyes but wraps her arms around his neck and laughs while he embraces her around the waist. She threads her fingers through his hair and listens to the sound of his steady breathing, shoving away the memory of a time she feared she’d never hear it again.

Lance shifts just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Is there any way I can convince you to spend the night more often without sabotaging your car?” When Pidge’s eyes widen, he hurriedly adds, “Not that I did this time!”

Pidge giggles and says, “Maybe.”

His lips brush against hers as he murmurs, “Is ‘I love you too’ a good enough reason?”

Pidge’s chest is so warm she wonders how she almost froze in the rain barely an hour ago. She touches Lance’s cheek and says, “Help me replace my car’s battery. Then we’ll talk.”

[15001700tt]

The Victorians, they really aren’t tho

STATION #3

There was a flaw in their plan that they didn't notice when planning. How were the other two Stations supposed to inform the last when they arent on the same planet? How did that slip through their mind? But it was already too late for that, so theyre going to wait like patient people that they are not.

They had another thing to deal with that they dont know how. They had finally found out that Sang Hee is back and they dont know how to react. Some are still walking on eggshells with her and some are confused. Including Sang Hee, she can barely remember everything. She can remember being in her home, playing around with other kids, but she doesnt remember ever using her powers, or meeting any of the guys. Chen had tried to help by giving her books, documenting their lives, which she thought was creepy. They explained that its normal, the books talked about things she didn't understand, so she gave up and set the book down.

"I dont understand anything in this book. Who the hell are Victorians?" She said running a hand through her hair. She went and sat down next to Je Ki. They were now in china where the two royals lay on their beds looking peaceful.

"They are our enemies, they have been trying to take over our planet for years. They almost did a decade ago." Chen said.

"What about me? Where do I come in in all of this" she asked.

"I dont think you fully understand how powerful you are, you are not just limited to healing animals, plants and humans, you can heal bigger organisms such as a planet" Minseok explained.

"What?" She snapped, Yixing was sitting next to her, tensed.

"They didn't realise this because they only wanted to use you as bait. They never got the chance anyways" Yixing added.

"The only reason why they keep on invading us is because their planet, Barron Planet is dead. They want to revive it using our core. But in order for the core to be used by non-Exonians it destroys itself." Chen had opened the book and recited to the group.

The two remaining girls sat quietly and watched, as they figured out how to recover Sang Hee's memories.

"Jongdae Oppa, dont you think its a bit weird how they they never asked nicely?" Je Ki stated, causing a humorless chuckle to ring out.

"Victorians have fought with us for the longest time, but it was our parents generation that received the most damage. The Victorians have elected a new leader from their noble family, Zoya Khan" Xiumin started off.

"Hold up? Noble family?" Sang Hee questioned.

"Yeah they dont have a king" Jongdae responded. She nodded and Minseok continued.

"His second in command was Zack Lock. They were so powerful they had almost gotten what they wanted. They were skilled fighters and masters of their art; spirits." He paused, "If you had noticed while you were getting us, you were informed to get us to Barcelona as soon as possible because of this reason, the spirits are everywhere, and if the spirits are controlled by the Khans, he would find out where you are and you wouldn't survive."

"Barely able to capture him they put him in prison for years. Although the couldn't find Lock, they thought that he wouldn't come back. They were wrong."

"Lock had came back after a few years and helped Khan escape. They had been planning to use of the noble's daughter as bait."

"His plan didn't work, but the daughter had vanished before he could touch her"

"He also didn't realise that his plan had been flawed, because that daughter was the most powerful Healer known to their kind." Minseok gave a pointed look towards Sang Hee.

"Youre talking about me?" She was stunned, all of this happened and she didn't even remember. Soo Mi listened as she sat comfortably next to Jongdae who had his arm around her shoulder. In such a short amount of time they had gotten super close.

"The planet is powerful no doubt but the Healer was better. In a sense where she doesn't destroy everything around her."

"How powerful are we talking? Cuz like you keep on mentioning the stones and the core but i dont get it" Je Ki protested.

"When the twelve in rule die they are buried with their Nonas, so imagine how powerful the ground is when the most powerful warriors and royals are embedded in your core." Minseok responded.

"After recapturing both Lock and Khan they are both thrown in jail. The Victorians hid on their planet unsure what to do without a leader."

"On the day of the decrowning of the older generation..." Minseok paused, drawing in a heavy breath. He hated that memory, watching everyone around him die. The most dearest people slipping through his fingers.

"They attacked...Khan killed almost all of the older generation...the younger generation had to flee somewhere they wouldn't look and fast."

"You chose earth." Soo Mi stated.

"Yeah, Sehun was 17 when he lost his parents, he was devastated. Could barely move" Yixing remembered, he had to do a lot of healing those first few month.

Soo Mi was listening but also looking around the room, there wasnt much. Kris and Tao lay motionless as if not bothered by the cruelness of the story. They couldn't even finish the story because the air twitched and three people landed in the middle of the room, Jongin, Jae Eun, and Ji Hee.

The room had already been pulsing with silent energy, now that four of the royals are here it was pumping. The girls haven't said anything since they were recovering from the teleportation.

"God, i hate doing that" Jae Eun groaned holding her head.

"Oh believe me you dont want to do it the other way." Soo Mi muttered casting a small glare to Jongdae that was laughing quite behind his teeth.

"Oh, hi, i am Jae Eun, this is Ji Hee" the beautiful girl introduced.

"Y'all know me" Kai smirked as the girls shook their heads at his annoyingness, the two royal's attention got turned to the two figures laying down on the beds. They got closer and their gemstones glowed.

The girls were amazed by their Nonas, they weren't like the Lightsticks or even the necklaces that Hyun Jin and Nat made. The gemstones were embedded into their wedding rings.

As the two Royals approached the boys. Seemed to start moving. Not waking up completely but the actions of waking up from deep slumber. As they stood over the two men, with their rings close to their hearts. The action seemed to awake the male heirs.

"I dont think you're pregnant" Chen said to Jae Eun, as he eyes her flat stomach.

"I am going to beat you so hard that you aint gonna have babies. Is that what you want?" she asked him sweetly. He shook his head not smiling anymore. Soo Mi giggled, diverting Chen attention to her joyful face. He raised an eyebrow in question. She shook her head with an apologetic face.

"You're here" it wasnt a question more a statement, but came from the oldest heir. He was looking around in confusion.'What had happened?' He thought. He could barely remember anything.

"Hey babe, you might want to get to the castle now to get crowned, but you know you can take your time." Ji Hee told Kris as he looked around the room.

Tao was still shaking off the haziness when he focused in on his pissed off wife. Almost instantly it was like his memory was jogged and fear struck him. For those around him and are watching it was amusing to see such a tall fearful man be the epitome of being scared from his pissed off, very not pregnant wife.

"You stupid shit! I wasnt pregnant and yet you still froze yourself because of the stupidest reason known to man" she screeched causing Je Ki to curl into Minseok.

"I was taking precautions." He tried to excuse himself, but instead got hit by his very angry and emotional wife. Also there were a lot of kisses in there too but mostly hitting.

"Are you sure youre not pregnant cuz i think i see some hormones churning" Jongdae commented, but got pinched by Soo Mi that was pushing his luck. Minseok saw this as his opportunity to divert attention and ask a question he had.

"Where's Luhan?" Kai's head turned towards the oldest member and tilted his head and smiled a bit.

"Getting yelled at by his wife back at the castle."

"Did we win the war?" Sang Hee asked halting all the side conversations that were happening. They haven't thought of that yet. They tried to push it back to the back of their Minds.

"Yes, Khan was killed" Kai stated into the silence.Sang Hee and Yixing sighed in relief. Sang Hee felt light headed, then the ground was uneven.

Yixing had caught her before she hit the ground. He looked at the shocked faces of his teammates.

"She's been worried this whole time" he sighed, "i felt it but i thought it was just nerves from the stories we've told her"

"It's better if we just take her to the castle and let her rest there." Ji Hee said. Everyone huddled together and Lay carried her passed out form.

As they landed everyone groaned, the Royals were all not used it but the other girls got used it. The groans of discomfort were drowned out by the agreement that Kai's teleportation is way better than the Nonagons. Almost immediately of landing Jongin was attacked by medium sized girl that had a bandaged on her arm.

"Youre late"

"We didn't really set a time for me to come back"

"Shut up" she mumbled. Before meeting the eyes of two amused girls. She waved and they waved back. She introduced herself as Alex. She lead the way back to the group. Almost everyone came out with at least one bruise. Chanyeol was getting stitches on the back of his right shoulder by a girl that looked half his height. As they passed people Kai and Alex introduced people to them. The girl was Nat, the list goes on.

"So what had happened?" Kris asks when he gets in close perimeter of Suho who was putting gauze on who he know knows as R.J.'s legs.

"I killed him."

"Elaborate"

"There not much, i didn't really give him a chance to say anything. I kinda just stabbed him and whispered 'revenge!'" He tried to sound serious, but in reality he felt no remorse. He did just kill a person maybe more but these are the people that killed his parents infront of his eyes with 'no remorse'.

"Nice man, didn't think you would do that, but hey life is full of surprises" Kris pats his back before smiling politely at the girl sitting down.

"Has anyone seen Luhan?" Sehun asks.

"Probably getting busy" immediately Jongdae responds, thus earning a slap on the back of his head from Soo Mi.

"Every time you make an appropriate comment you'll get hit." She simply stated.

"You go girl!" Mi Na appeared. Luhan following shortly behind her.

"For your information, we were helping Ji Mi and Kyungsoo and Baek and Hyun Jin with their wounds, so no there wasnt any funny business" Luhan cleared his throat, "yet" that earned a laugh from Jongdae.

With no hesitation Mi Na and Soo Mi smacked their boyfriends heads to get their heads out of the gutter.

[trendingnewsb]

Hollywood men silent over Weinstein allegations as women speak out

When the Guardian contacted 20 high-profile actors and directors who have worked with the producer, all declined comment or failed to respond

Meryl Streep, Judi Dench, Kate Winslet and dozens of other women in Hollywood have condemned the producer Harvey Weinstein amid a growing number of sexual harassment allegations. Most high-profile men in the industry, however, have remained silent.

The Guardian reached out to more than 20 male actors and directors who have worked with the movie mogul over the years, some of whom have ongoing projects with Weinstein. All declined to comment or did not respond to inquiries about the accusations that the producer sexually harassed women over a period of nearly three decades. He allegedly invited vulnerable women to hotel rooms for business reasons and then greeted them in the nude or asked them to massage him or watch him shower, according to a New York Times report.

The list of industry figures thus far remaining silent includes a number of male directors, such as the Oscar-nominated Quentin Tarantino (Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Inglourious Basterds, the Hateful Eight) and David O Russell (Silver Linings Playbook, The Fighter, Flirting With Disaster), who have both made numerous movies with Weinstein.

The liberal film-maker Michael Moore, currently working with Weinstein on a documentary about Donald Trump, also did not respond to a request for comment.

To some, the glaring silence from the men of Hollywood reflects a broader culture of misogyny in the entertainment business, boosted by enablers who looked the other way or ignored the rumors, allowing the Weinstein accusations to remain an open secret for years.

Why are they being silent? What do they have to hide? the New Zealand model Zo Brock said in an interview Monday, two days after she published her own account of alleged harassment by Weinstein. Id love to hear from some of those guys. They are all men I admire and look up to as artists Theyre all men with daughters. Its horrifying.

The accusations first came to light last week in the New York Times report, which included on-the-record testimony from the actor Ashley Judd and others who said they had been victimized by Weinstein. Over the years, the producer reached settlements with at least eight women, including actors and assistants, the paper reported.

Weinstein, who was fired from his company on Sunday, has apologized for the pain he has caused, but he and his attorneys have also said he denies many of the allegations, saying the piece was saturated with false and defamatory statements and relied on mostly hearsay accounts.

The Guardian, which has not independently confirmed the accounts in the New York Times, published an interview Monday with actor Romola Garai, who alleged that Weinstein greeted her wearing only a dressing gown when she was 18 years old.

Shortly after the New York Times story went viral last week, many prominent women in Hollywood lent their voices in support of the accusers. Patricia Arquette, Amber Tamblyn, Olivia Munn, Lena Dunham, Brie Larson, Constance Wu, Rosie ODonnell, America Ferrera, Jessica Chastain and others tweeted soon after it published.

Days later and under some pressure to comment, Streep and Dench also weighed in, both strongly condemning the alleged offenses and claiming they had no prior knowledge of the accusations. Winslet also released a statement saying Weinstein had behaved in reprehensible and disgusting ways. She also acknowledged that there had been whisperings over the years: I had hoped that these kind of stories were just made up rumours, maybe we have all been nave. And it makes me so angry.

While the actors Seth Rogen and Mark Ruffalo have spoken up, most male celebrities with ties to Weinstein have chosen not to comment, even after Weinstein was ousted from his own company.

The Guardian reached out to representatives of actors who have starred in Weinstein films, including Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, Colin Firth, Bradley Cooper, Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, Daniel Day-Lewis, Russell Crowe, George Clooney and Ewan McGregor, along with the directors Tarantino, Russell, Ryan Coogler, Tom Hooper, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Michael Moore, Rob Marshall, Robert Pulcini, Garth Davis, Doug McGrath, John Madden, Simon Curtis, Kevin Williamson, Martin Scorsese, John Hillcoat and John Wells.

None so far have commented, despite the fact that many have previously been vocal about gender equality in the industry and other social justice causes. Many have directly criticized Donald Trump amid similar accusations of sexual misconduct.

Damon and Crowe were caught up in the scandal this week when a former New York Times reporter alleged that when she was investigating Weinstein in 2004, the two actors called her to vouch for a key Weinstein associate, apparently in an effort to discourage her from moving forward with the piece. Representatives for both actors did not respond to inquiries about the allegations from the journalist Sharon Waxman.

Migdia Chinea, a film-maker and screenwriter, said it was outrageous that so few men had been willing to speak up.

Many of these guys are very well known in liberal circles and they support a very progressive approach to equality and women, she said. Heres an opportunity for these guys to really speak about this issue All of these powerful men should come forward and denounce sexual harassment.

Rose McGowan, one of the most prominent Weinstein accusers, has called for the entire board of men in Weinsteins company to resign and tweeted that men have remained silent because they are weak and scared.

Brock said she would like to see more men publicly admitting to their misconduct following the Weinstein news. Wouldnt it be nice if people had the courage and the gall to say, Hey, Ive done this, too I need help?

Laura Finley, a Barry University professor and author of Domestic Abuse and Sexual Assault in Popular Culture, noted that it can make a huge difference when men publicly support women who have come forward.

We need mens voices even more than womens voices, she said. Men can reach men in ways that women unfortunately still cant.

Before he was fired, Weinstein reportedly sent an email to high-level executives at studios, networks and talent agencies asking them to write statements of support.

I am desperate for your help, he wrote, according to the Hollywood Reporter. Do not let me be fired. If the industry supports me, that is all I need.

If you have stories to share about Weinstein or sexual misconduct in Hollywood, contact sam.levin@theguardian.com

Read more: http://ift.tt/2yBfeWb

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2hWJhg9 via Viral News HQ

[trendingnewsb]

Hollywood men silent over Weinstein allegations as women speak out

When the Guardian contacted 20 high-profile actors and directors who have worked with the producer, all declined comment or failed to respond

Meryl Streep, Judi Dench, Kate Winslet and dozens of other women in Hollywood have condemned the producer Harvey Weinstein amid a growing number of sexual harassment allegations. Most high-profile men in the industry, however, have remained silent.

The Guardian reached out to more than 20 male actors and directors who have worked with the movie mogul over the years, some of whom have ongoing projects with Weinstein. All declined to comment or did not respond to inquiries about the accusations that the producer sexually harassed women over a period of nearly three decades. He allegedly invited vulnerable women to hotel rooms for business reasons and then greeted them in the nude or asked them to massage him or watch him shower, according to a New York Times report.

The list of industry figures thus far remaining silent includes a number of male directors, such as the Oscar-nominated Quentin Tarantino (Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Inglourious Basterds, the Hateful Eight) and David O Russell (Silver Linings Playbook, The Fighter, Flirting With Disaster), who have both made numerous movies with Weinstein.

The liberal film-maker Michael Moore, currently working with Weinstein on a documentary about Donald Trump, also did not respond to a request for comment.

To some, the glaring silence from the men of Hollywood reflects a broader culture of misogyny in the entertainment business, boosted by enablers who looked the other way or ignored the rumors, allowing the Weinstein accusations to remain an open secret for years.

Why are they being silent? What do they have to hide? the New Zealand model Zo Brock said in an interview Monday, two days after she published her own account of alleged harassment by Weinstein. Id love to hear from some of those guys. They are all men I admire and look up to as artists Theyre all men with daughters. Its horrifying.

The accusations first came to light last week in the New York Times report, which included on-the-record testimony from the actor Ashley Judd and others who said they had been victimized by Weinstein. Over the years, the producer reached settlements with at least eight women, including actors and assistants, the paper reported.

Weinstein, who was fired from his company on Sunday, has apologized for the pain he has caused, but he and his attorneys have also said he denies many of the allegations, saying the piece was saturated with false and defamatory statements and relied on mostly hearsay accounts.

The Guardian, which has not independently confirmed the accounts in the New York Times, published an interview Monday with actor Romola Garai, who alleged that Weinstein greeted her wearing only a dressing gown when she was 18 years old.

Shortly after the New York Times story went viral last week, many prominent women in Hollywood lent their voices in support of the accusers. Patricia Arquette, Amber Tamblyn, Olivia Munn, Lena Dunham, Brie Larson, Constance Wu, Rosie ODonnell, America Ferrera, Jessica Chastain and others tweeted soon after it published.

Days later and under some pressure to comment, Streep and Dench also weighed in, both strongly condemning the alleged offenses and claiming they had no prior knowledge of the accusations. Winslet also released a statement saying Weinstein had behaved in reprehensible and disgusting ways. She also acknowledged that there had been whisperings over the years: I had hoped that these kind of stories were just made up rumours, maybe we have all been nave. And it makes me so angry.

While the actors Seth Rogen and Mark Ruffalo have spoken up, most male celebrities with ties to Weinstein have chosen not to comment, even after Weinstein was ousted from his own company.

The Guardian reached out to representatives of actors who have starred in Weinstein films, including Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, Colin Firth, Bradley Cooper, Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, Daniel Day-Lewis, Russell Crowe, George Clooney and Ewan McGregor, along with the directors Tarantino, Russell, Ryan Coogler, Tom Hooper, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Michael Moore, Rob Marshall, Robert Pulcini, Garth Davis, Doug McGrath, John Madden, Simon Curtis, Kevin Williamson, Martin Scorsese, John Hillcoat and John Wells.

None so far have commented, despite the fact that many have previously been vocal about gender equality in the industry and other social justice causes. Many have directly criticized Donald Trump amid similar accusations of sexual misconduct.

Damon and Crowe were caught up in the scandal this week when a former New York Times reporter alleged that when she was investigating Weinstein in 2004, the two actors called her to vouch for a key Weinstein associate, apparently in an effort to discourage her from moving forward with the piece. Representatives for both actors did not respond to inquiries about the allegations from the journalist Sharon Waxman.

Migdia Chinea, a film-maker and screenwriter, said it was outrageous that so few men had been willing to speak up.

Many of these guys are very well known in liberal circles and they support a very progressive approach to equality and women, she said. Heres an opportunity for these guys to really speak about this issue All of these powerful men should come forward and denounce sexual harassment.

Rose McGowan, one of the most prominent Weinstein accusers, has called for the entire board of men in Weinsteins company to resign and tweeted that men have remained silent because they are weak and scared.

Brock said she would like to see more men publicly admitting to their misconduct following the Weinstein news. Wouldnt it be nice if people had the courage and the gall to say, Hey, Ive done this, too I need help?

Laura Finley, a Barry University professor and author of Domestic Abuse and Sexual Assault in Popular Culture, noted that it can make a huge difference when men publicly support women who have come forward.

We need mens voices even more than womens voices, she said. Men can reach men in ways that women unfortunately still cant.

Before he was fired, Weinstein reportedly sent an email to high-level executives at studios, networks and talent agencies asking them to write statements of support.

I am desperate for your help, he wrote, according to the Hollywood Reporter. Do not let me be fired. If the industry supports me, that is all I need.

If you have stories to share about Weinstein or sexual misconduct in Hollywood, contact sam.levin@theguardian.com

Read more: http://ift.tt/2yBfeWb

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2hWJhg9 via Viral News HQ