im gonna have to ask you to stop that

anonymous asked:

I love kate and rana but rana being Muslim makes this storyline completely unrealistic. The actress is hindu, they should have went with that originally. Elephant in the room within British society =52%of British Muslims believe homosexuality should be ILLEGAL. 23 %want shariah law (death to gays). Gay British Muslims can't even support this in public/online.

oh boy im gonna stop you right there. muslim lgbtq people exist, there is nothing unrealistic about that

now from what i can tell ur referencing a study from 2015, published in 2016. that study “interviewed a random sample of 1,081 adults”. 1,081 accounts for about 0.0004% of the 2-3 million muslims in the UK. somehow i dont think thats a credible representation of the entire british muslim population. and even if it was, it literally has no relevance to rana’s storyline so you bringing it up just makes you look like a prick since it was never a fucking elephant in the room

i understand that bhavna is hindu and not muslim but that doesnt discount that this storyline is important for a lot of british muslim lgbtq people. and whether they publicly support it or not is irrelevant. if they can watch rana and feel a connection to her character thats all that matters

personally, as someone with muslim family and friends, im offended that you feel the need to paint all muslims with the same brush in some underhanded attempt to vilify the religion and its people. fuck off

Here have two gays guys being dudes


Kravitz (taz) aesthetic

Gliscor from memory
I love them so much…….. so much

can you imagine if their shinies were monocrhomatic and all stone-coloured like gargoyles
Nintendo hear me out,,

Ten’s Smile Appreciation Post

Originally posted by nctech

  Hi if you know me personally you know I love Ten more than anything he is my sweet baby and he means the world to me hhhh. I have a bunch of requests AND I”M DOING THEM AS FAST AS I CAN, but I felt the need to post something about my sweet angel so here ~~

Originally posted by neo-culturetechnolonut


Originally posted by nctaezen

try and lie to me and say you don’t want to hug this sweet sweet baby

Originally posted by kjhz


Originally posted by nctaezen

his pretty smile his pretty eyes his pretty earrings dont get me started on how boyfriend he looks in hats lorrrrrrrrrd

Originally posted by ten-ie

listen to me: we don’t deserve him in the slightest

Originally posted by chttaphonten

his smile is so genuine, he is so wonderful and kind i lovvvve him so mucccchh

Originally posted by cypher127

if i could witness this sweet giggle irl i would be good for life tbh

Originally posted by nctaezen


Originally posted by jongdabae

his side profile is so beautiful my favorite sight in the entire world and his pretty earrings again i love this boy

Originally posted by 94ten


Originally posted by yutxens

sweet baby honey baby angel baby fluffy baby

Originally posted by nakamotens


Originally posted by taeilwins

he is literally so effortlessly beautiful he doesn’t even have to do anything and i will hype him up so hard LOOK AT HIS PRETTY LIPS AND TEETH AND CHEEKS AND EYES

Originally posted by dewygrl

he is so sweet i am so in love with him i will never not be in love with him ok u know u agree dont call me crazy

Originally posted by fyncten

uhm i am trying to be soft right now pls stop pls i cant handle this right now i  did not ask for this hold pls i am transferring your call

Originally posted by tenyu

he is so radiant and bright and positive dont you just love the sun

Originally posted by nctaeu

fluffy pretty sweet amazing thai prince i love so much

Originally posted by exoticnctlife

hello i cant take much more look how happy and silly and cute and smiley and beautiful he is UGH THAT WAS SO SOFT IM GONNA PUKE you have all seen my weak spot now and my softest point in history


this is the exact same thing with how he said hugs make him uncomfortable but he doesn’t want to disappoint people so he doesn’t know how to say no.

OCCASIONALLY if frank is in a good mood or someone is very upset/emotional while talking to him he will hug them of his own accord. people have also said that he held their hand to comfort them while talking to them. but don’t use seeing him do this with someone else as an invitation to do it yourself. 

so please, as i have said countless times, don’t ask him for a hug. don’t ask him to hold his hands. and for love of god don’t just grab or touch him without even asking. you are a stranger to him. 

if you’ve done it in the past, there’s no need to get defensive over it, you didn’t know, now you do, and you can go into future interactions with him with this knowledge in mind. it’s all about respect and making sure we’re not doing things that make him want to stop meeting people.

How Dan and Phil probably broke up #57
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Phil:</b> Dan, The End is here<p/><b>Dan:</b> <p/><b>Dan:</b> Why did you name our child this way<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>

luna-sheep  asked:

hey, i really REALLY love your barracuda Jeremy! i'd love to learn more about him or see him more! do you have any head canons you could share about him/the au?


@being-edward-hyde and @stuck-in-the-ghost-zone r also developing the au (hyde was the one w the initial idea im p sure)

ok so headcanons and details under the cut heck yea heck yea

Keep reading

dating dallas - hcs

requested by 3 anons!

  • ok well he isn’t the most outwardly affectionate guy
    • and i mean affectionate in the lovey-dovey, what-a-cute-couple sorta way
  • it’s really difficult for him to express his love for you in a way that’s clearly understood
    • but that ring of his that he’s constantly twisting around and  tapping on shit with?? yeah, it’s yours now and it’s on a chain he gave you 
    • but he’s 9/10 times looking out for you
  • of course that’s when he’s not stickin his hand up your skirt/dress, or sliding a hand into your back pocket or pinching ur ass
  • w him it’s almost always ‘baby’ or ‘babe’
  • in all honesty if y'all disagree on something, the likelihood that there’ll b a petty argument or constant butting heads on it is pretty up there
  • dates are actually v spontaneous/casual and not always thought through 
  • he has this thing that if ur leaving to go somewhere and he doesn’t want u to leave yet
    • he’ll rarely grab u by the arm if ur wearing jeans bc he most often just gently tugs u back by one of the belt loops on ur jeans
  • he just loveS?? holding onto ur hips?? 
    • he’s also the jackass who’ll stick his hands up ur shirt when his hands are cold bc apparently “ur chest is so warm”
  • if he knows you’re easily annoyed, he’s def the type to bother u!!!
    • but the thing is that sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop
    • like even when you’ve had enough, there deadass has to be an argument about him stopping smh
  • a lot of repetitive and empty one-sided conversations about how dal needs to start acting a certain way
    • him “yes”-ing you away and then continuing to do the opposite
  • him being an actual fuckn dick when he’s hungover
  • ur one of the only ppl that he’ll have a full-blown argument with and still chill w afterwards
    • and one of the only ppl who can full out yell at dal without getting their lights punched out
  • amazing (rough) sex???
    • it doesnt even have to b makeup sex or angry sex to b great, in all honesty
    • but if he knows u like it gentle, it might take him some learning to be gentle, but it’s passionate af nevertheless
  • wow jail visits!!!!!!!
    • being the person who helps scrape up the money to post his bail
    • bc darry got tired of that shit over time
  • once, when he got arrested - since many officers just know him by name- they just asked him if he wanted to make any stop and he told them ur address
    • he was at ur door and he used the tip of his foot to kick the door to knock
    • u opened the door to see him and then immediately closed it when u saw the officers
    • the next time he knocked, ur literally just shouting through the door lmao
    • “NO”
    • “SO DONT”
    • *opens door to hurl the leather jacket at him*
    • he aint got no hands cause he’s handcuffed so it just lands over him covering his face and shit lmaoo
  • he has a secret stash of cigs in the case he ever runs out??
    • it’s located in an old sock in his sock drawer
    • it’s probably not even his sock it’s probably darry’s or buck’s
  • after every time y'all get into an argument about whether dally’s goin to a rumble
    • dally always goes to fight in the rumble
    • “you’re going to the rumble? yeah well i hope u get punched in the eye bitch”
  • really nOT a fan of you being passive aggressive to him
    • but when he gets all riled up and can’t fuck someone up
    • he becomes THe mOST passive aggressive person evER
    • but passive aggression is most often how he holds a grudge w u
  • literally always askin the gangs (yup the shepard gang and curtis + randle, mathews, cade gang) to look out for u while he’s stuck in jail for however long
    • so if dal can’t b there to make sure ur safe, almost everyone else is tbh
missing you - tom holland imagine #4

Originally posted by spiderholland

about : Tom is away at SDCC while promoting Spider-Man Homecoming. Things start to go downhill as a Facetime call ensues and jealousy arises. 

Warnings : a teeny bit sad. drunk tom!


The ID caller showed up on your phone and you grinned, flopping down onto the bed as you answered the call. Tom’s smiling face filled your screen and you giggled, greeting him with a simple ‘hello Thomas’.

“Y/N! It’s crazy here!” Tom shouted, “I’ve never seen anything like this before! There were thousands of people on the panel it was insane!”

“Are you having fun?” You asked, a small yet tired simper reaches your lips.

“Loads! Everyone’s amazing! Laura is here, Jacob is here, Tony is here, oh and Zendaya is here too!” He continued to ramble on about how everyone had secretly arrived to the convention but your heart sank at her name.

Tom was an extremely sweet person, and he was definitely good-looking. Your biggest fear from letting him leave to Atlanta was him finding someone new. What if he found someone else prettier, smarter and better than you? Maybe he was already tired of you.

And it didn’t help that Zendaya was a part of your worry. She was the kind of girl you’d always want to be. She was gorgeous and successful, not to mention extremely talented. You let your insecurity get the best of you sometimes and you would always feel a bit glum whenever you saw them together. However, Tom wasn’t aware that you felt that way.

“Isn’t Zendaya pretty?” you piped up randomly, playing with the hem of your sweatpants.

“Yes, she is. Why?” Tom sounded confused. He looked at something behind the camera and he laughed, slapping his chest.

“Oh, that’s amazing, Z,” he chuckled before looking back at you on the phone, “sorry babe, were you saying something?”

You were about to say something before he interrupted you, laughing again and talking to someone you could only assume was Zendaya. You could hear her laughter too and you flinched, feeling annoyed. Anger and jealousy was already bubbling inside of you. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at how he was so oblivious to you on the phone as he dropped his phone to his side so all you could see was his pants.

This was the first time in days he had facetimed you, and you felt so put off by how he wasn’t even paying attention to you.

Pissed off, you pressed the end call button hardly, ending the facetime. You put your phone beside you and picked up your laptop, trying to calm yourself down.

It seemed like the world wanted to rub everything in your face when you clicked on a random song on your spotify. Everything I’m Not by The Veronicas came on and you gasped, throwing up your arms in anger.

“Oh, come on!” You yelled at no one in particular.

The song blasted on your speakers and you sighed, letting it play.

Your phone beeped once.



Tom’s face popped up on the screen, indicating a call coming in from him.

You ignored it, letting the ringtone play amongst the loud tunes of The Veronicas.

It stopped for a few seconds before ringing again. This time you decided to decline the call.

A text came in. You peeked.

Tom x : babe, what’s up? u  just hung up?

10. 50 pm

Tom x : y/n? Im gonna call u again.

10. 52 pm

Tom x : why did u decline the call?

10. 58 pm

Tom x : did i do something wrong?

11. 05 pm

You snorted, picking up your phone and typing a quick reply.

Me : idk ask zendaya lmao

Me : im gonna sleep. Have fun at comic con.

Just as you were about to put away your phone, it vibrated.

Tom x : I think I know what’s going on. Are you jealous of Z?

11.08 pm

Tom x : I hope you know I love you, and that I will never eye another girl that’s not you. I understand how you feel, I get sad whenever I think of all the other boys that are with you everyday. So i dont blame you. But you can trust me love. I promise.

11.09 pm

Tom x : z and i are just friends, nothing more babe. Im way too in love with you. Also im sorry if ive been distant. I miss you so much and i havent been able to really talk to you. Ive been very busy with work and everything else i just idk i feel really guilty now.

11.11 pm


Tom x : call me back when u wanna talk. Im sorry, i love you. Xx

11.13 pm

You sighed, giving in. You could tell he was feeling really crappy about it as you watched a livestream of the convention. Marvel was holding a livestream for the interviews and you saw Tom pop up in the screen when you opened the website.

His eyes were downcast even though he had a small smile on his face. Tom was less energetic and gave the interviewer half-assed answers. He kept crossing and uncrossing his arms and he fidgeted a lot on his feet.

His iPhone was gripped tightly in his hand, and every few seconds he went to check it.

Probably for my reply, you thought.

When the interviewer ended, you saw him walk away from the camera. The interviewer was about to interview Lupita Nyong’o next when another text from Tom came in.

Tom x : love i really am sorry. maybe u went to sleep already. Im sorry. I love you. Goodnight. Xx

11.25 pm

“Meh screw it,” you mumbled, pressing the call icon on his contact name.

He picked it up immediately after the third ring.

“Hello?” he said quickly.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, slumping on the bed, “sorry, I just got jealous. I shouldn’t have hung up on you like that.

“It’s just..I miss you so much Tom. And we haven’t facetimed in so long and.. I don’t know I was pretty pissed off by how you weren’t paying attention to me.”

“I know, I know,” you could hear his guilt from across the line, “I’m really sorry. There’s just been a lot going on right now.”

You sighed, “okay, now go and have fun. We can talk more later. I’m not mad at you anymore so don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, I’ll be fine,” You lied through your teeth, even mustering a fake smile.

Tom hummed, before speaking again, “I’ll call you when you wake up. I love you so much, Y/N. Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight,” you mumbled back as you hit the ‘end call’.

Grabbing a pillow from the top of the bed, you clutched it tightly into your chest as sobs began to rack through your body. The tears didn’t stop flowing, even after half an hour.

You’d think he would notice that you really weren’t okay.

You missed him so much.

And it already felt like, to you, he was slowly drifting away.


The next morning was horrendous. You woke up to the feel of your soggy pillow and puffy eyes. Rubbing your face, you snuggled further into your duvet.

There was no way you were going out today. Your heart felt the heaviest it had felt in a long time and nothing seemed to motivate you to get out of bed.

You missed him too much.

Making calls to everyone, you apologised for not feeling well and rescheduled everything.

Nothing mattered more than the ache in your heart. If your mind wasn’t in the game, there would be no point in getting into the game in the first place.

You decided to check your notifications and was surprised by the amount of texts Tom had sent in.

Tom x : Good morning, babe. I hope you slept well. I’m out here in San Diego, in some bar. Missing you. 💛

7.30 am

Tom x : I hope you’re not angry anymore. It’s been bothering me the whole day. I’m still sorry.

7.45 am

Tom x : baEb i lpve you si much…….im sorry yoi think i luv zebdaya….i dont… i love you im sorry

8.30 am

Tom x : jacOb says in Drunk! Haha@ he keeps tellinf me that i should go homE

8.35 am

Tom x : i sAid wherE? LonDon? He saiD no You IdioT the Hotel

8.36 am

Tom x : i saiD it aInt HoME UNLESS y/n is wit me

8.38 am

Tom x : jeusu chrisy i lovw you

9.00 am


9.28 am


9.35 am

You stared at the screen, taking it all in.

Tom got drunk last night.

Yet, all his words seemed so sincere. Just before you could exit the chat, a new message came in.

Instead, this was from Harrison.

Haz O : hey y/n, i think you probably read the drunk texts tom has been sending. just want to tell you. tom has been drinking a lot for the past 2 hours. he’s upset, y/n. after he puked on the sidewalk, he cried. he cried about how much he missed you and how he didn’t deserve you. that you lie when you say you’re okay. he said that it would be easier if you both broke up. you could find someone better. so, stop being mad at tom. there’s nothing going on between z and tom. If they did, i would’ve told you. he’s feeling so guilty for no reason.

You felt hot tears gathering at the side of your eyes. He was beating himself up because of your jealousy. Guilt took over you as you fumbled to type out a quick reply. A plan was already forming in your head and although it involved a lot of money, you knew it would help in fixing this problem.

It was probably too reckless and spontaneous, but you had enough of missing Tom and clearly, Tom was sick of missing you too.

You : I’m getting on the next flight to San Diego. Take care of Tom for me. x

Ritsu Headcanons (Pt. 1)

wow i got another one of these done! yay me :3 i got like halfway through then accidentally deleted them so rip me but heres the brother that i love so much i cry every time. like these r probably really hecking biased because i love him so much but like! i dont care :3 anyways here they r

Mob // Teru // Shou //

  • really soft hair
    • like real soft. how does he do it
    • he uses the same stuff as mob but somehow his hair ends up like feathers
  • Huge sweet tooth
    • like u’ll find him late at night eating chocolate and hes like ‘… what dont judge me’
  • just all around defensive when he gets caught doing stuff hes not supposed to
    • with adults hes able to talk himself out of it but w/ others….. hes just ‘this ISNT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE youre making ASSUMPTIONS’
    • mobs just like ‘… ok?’
    • teru makes fun of him
    • shous just like ‘PASS THE FUCKIN COOKIES’
      • the first time ritsu was like ?????????????? ok?
      • after that tho he would see shou walk in and just hand him whatever he was eating
  • k so like hes demi
    • you can fight me on this but u’ll lose tbh
    • for a long time he thought he was just too focused on school and extracurriculars to ‘have time’ for crushes
    • but then like after a year of hanging out w/ shou, shou says something really stupid but endearing and ritsus just ‘oh shit. Oh Shit.’ 
    • mob kept finding all of the silverware bent into shitty hearts and undid them with a grin
    • ritsu was So Mortified the first time it happened
      • and all the other times but the first time REALLY mortified
  • mob… tries to help his little brother with this. 
    • fun fact: it doesnt work
    • once he tried to shove shou into a hug w/ ritsu but instead pushes shou down the stairs 
      • mob quickly walked away like so fucking fast
    • there were other attempts but like….. they were all as bad as The Stair Incident
  • shou is luckily so impulsive that like a month after ritsu realized that he was Kind Of In Love With His Best Friend hes like ‘uh ur blushing and its really fucking cute so like uh date me maybe?’ and it. works.
  • their relationship is soft and pure
    • angst? no fuck you im not about that shit
    • actually i am its gonna be on shous
      • just thinking about it is making me cry ahead of time and its only like half an idea fuck whatever
  • so like ritsus always fucking Done
    • especially when teru has to do anything with it
    • teru really likes to lovingly poke fun and ritsus just like ‘haha im gonna stab you now’
  • ok so like at first ritsu thinks reigen is just like manipulating mob but when reigen throws mob a Huge birthday party and asks ritsu for help he realizes reigen really loves mob and stops hating him
    • in fact that experience is when reigens like ‘welp ive got another child i have to care for’
    • how does this man continually adopt children. how.
  • has really cute freckles
    • like… really cute
  • has a pet cactus named ‘hanazawa teruki fucking sucks’
    • its marley for short but its true name is ‘hanazawa teruki fucking sucks’
    • why? teru gave it to him and said ‘i found ur clone’
      • teru nearly died that day

thats all i got for now! hope yall enjoy ;w;


( insert longest eh here). im asking myself when im gonna live my life right, but girls just wanna have fun right

i should stop while i’m behind. i’m just gonna walk over here and drown myself in spaghetti until i immerse into a pasta induced comma. (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

ivar x blind!reader.

warnings: a little wrestling, fluff. help.

“Ivar,” You called out patiently, a sweet tilt to your voice.

Silence, darkness. Your head twitched to the side. “Ivar … “ You stressed, your teeth clicking together a few times as you waited, patience thinning. You finger tapping your clothed thigh.

Ivar!” You snapped, finally seeming to catch his attention as you heard a loud grunt.

“What? What do you want woman!? I am right here!” His voice was tight, and something harshly meeting the forest floor hit your ear. Probably the boys fist, no doubt.

Exhaling deeply, your head cocked and your foot shuffled off to the right. “You did not answer me.” You stated, only to be met with more silence, and it was times like these where you wondered why you stuck around with him so often – or why he kept you around actually. “I did not realize being crippled also meant you could not hear as well!”

“How did you even know I was still here, hmm? I could have left. I could have crawled away and left you all alone in the middle of the forest.” He told you, a tilt to his voice that caused you grave headaches, like you had just given him a very good idea to make someone’s live more miserable than his own.

A chill ran through your veins, and the muscle under your eye twitched. It would not surprise you if Ivar were to do something that – he did have quite a cruel streak in him, and he had no obligation to you, nor you to him. You were not his slave, nor were you his wife, and he not your husband. But after years of an agreement between you both, you had come to trust the youngest prince with your life. Your first mistake, his brothers always told you, and sometimes you wondered if they were right. His mother, no doubt, was just happy he had found a friend and seemed to trust you with his life for some odd reason, not that you could properly protect him in anyway. There was also the fact you two seemed to argue more often than you didn’t, but you were stubborn aside from not being able to see anything, and you wondered if that’s why the prince kept you.

You were marked as completely helpless by the people of Kattegat who knew you, and even if you shouted in the wrong direction or at the wrong person, there was not a moment where you did not stand up for yourself. Of course, people laughed and taunted you, but you took it in stride – if a crippled could be the most feared and respected man, why could you not be successful in your dreams?

“I am blind, not deaf you bastard! Besides, I could not miss the sound of your portly ass dragging across the forest floor!” You retorted, bending your knee to kick out your foot in the direction of his voice, but a vice grip wrapped around your bare ankle and the world was no longer steady.

With the air knocked out of you, your back was flat against the hard ground and a hand pressed to your forehead, pushing on it to keep you down. His breath fanning across your nose, and you could hear the grinding of his teeth. “You are also a stupid child.”

Gripping onto Ivar’s wrist, your curled your fingers, your uneven nails digging into his bracers and you wished at that moment it was his skin. “I am older than you.”

Yet you were under his wing.

Only physically,” He punctuated, pressing with head to the ground harder with each word before his weight lifted from you completely, but your grip on him held and you came flying forward with him, sitting beside him now instead of standing like moments ago.

You knew you would have a bruise in a few hours from the poor treatment to your forehead, and you could only imagine how sore your back will be in the morn. Reaching out slowly, your finger-tips found his bicep, and he sat only breathing as he allowed your hand to crawl up until it found the feathery hair on the nape of his neck. You twirled the short strands between two fingers. The two of you began to laugh, a weight now on your clothed thigh, his thumb seeming to idly pet you. “I hate you, Ivar.”

He was never a man of emotions besides anger, and that was one you knew well, as did everyone around him. He was so cold and distant, and there were times you could feel the expressions painting his face during certain moments. While you did not know what Ivar looked like, you thought his smile was incredibly beautiful, whether it was brought on by happiness by something innocent, or by the way he had made someone miserable and ruined them. You could just feel it. “I hate you, too,” There was a lightness in his voice that you did not hear very often, and you felt the corners of your mouth twitch upwards until a peaceful expression lasted on your face.

He was your strength more than you would ever know, nor were you bold enough to admit. In a sense, he gave you hope for yourself and your future, even if it wasn’t right beside him.  

A blind and a cripple; he was your eyes, and you were his legs.

im just gonna say here but you all really need to stop using stolen art work in your posts where you ask for promos. none of you even credit the artist. you crop their art into an icon and use it on your promo post with no acknowledgement to the original artist or even having their permission for this to be reposted and reblogged. Just THINK before you do this god


Davey learns Crutchie’s real name, but that’s not the only thing he learns.

// This story contains references to child abuse. If that kind of content makes you uncomfortable, proceed with caution! //

AO3 Version

“So, I’ve kinda got a question,” Davey asked, wondering silently how he wound up playing cards with the King of Brooklyn and the King of Brooklyn’s (best friend? Boyfriend? Davey didn’t know) , on some random Tuesday night in the middle of summer.

“You always do, Mouth,” Spot said, while Race asked, “What is it?”

“So, what’s with the whole nickname thing? Like,” Davey glanced around the dim room, wringing his hands together. “Why do some of you guys go by nicknames ‘nd some don’t?”

“Why you askin’ us?” Spot said, not bothering to look at Davey when he spoke to him.

“I mean, Race goes by a nickname ‘nd you don’t, so..”

“You really think Spot is my real name?”

“Oh my god, Davey,” Race set the cards down, huffing out a laugh as he did. “What the hell kinda parents would name their kid Spot?”

“Considering you’re the smart ‘Hatten newsie, you’re real thick.” Spot added, crossing his arms and pulling his eyes away from Race to look at Davey.

Davey hesitated for a second.

“W-well in my defense, I’ve got no clue why Spot’s your nickname, so I just assumed.. Plus, it’s always paired with Conlon. I just thought it was you’re first and last name.”

“‘Course it’s paired with my last name. I ain’t gonna let people call me just Spot. ‘Specially not my enemies. ”

“Why not?”

“Cause Spot’s a dog’s name-” Spot began before Race cut in, voice sounding amused like he’d heard Spot give this speil a hundred times.

“When you add a last name, it’s a person’s name.”

“I ain’t no dog.”

“Well, ‘course not. I guess not knowin’ where it came from made me guess it was your real name..” Davey trailed off, Spot’s eyes on him starting to make his skin crawl.

“I used ta be covered in burn marks from my dad’s cigars,” Spot said, shrugging, lifting up his shirt a bit to show a sky’s worth in stars of faded pink circles, some raised from the skin and rough looking. Now that Davey was looking, he could see similar marks on Spot’s arms that he’d never noticed before. “Ise still gots the scars, but they ain’t near as noticeable as fresh burns, which I ain’t gettin’ no more.”

Davey was kind of afraid to ask why.

“Okay, so maybe you don’t go by you’re real name, but other newsies do! Like.. like Jack, for example.”

“Pfft, that’s cute,” Race said, picking up the deck of cards and starting to shuffle them again.

“W-what? What’s cute about that?”

“How you think Jack Kelly’s a real name.”

“What do you mean? Jack isn’t a-”

“Where exactly you see this conversation goin’, Mouth?” Spot interrupted. “We invited ya ta play cards, not interrogate us.”

“I’m just curious.”

Spot rolled his eyes, no longer looking at Davey, instead gluing his eyes on Race’s hands as he finished shuffling the cards and began distributing them between the three.

“It’s sorta a respect thing for some people,” Spot explained. “You gotta earn people’s real names for some. Like, only a hand fulla people know my real name.”

Race gave Spot a knowing look.

“Alright, alright. One person knows my real first name.”

Race smiled. “That person bein’ me.”

“Whatever.” Spot rolled his eyes again and Davey swore that Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn, was smiling. This might just be the weirdest night of his life.

“Some newsies don’t care too much ‘bout it, but gettin’ called by your nickname just becomes second nature. Some folks just stick with their real name ‘cause it doesn’t bother ‘em. Like, everyone calls ya Davey cause it don’t bother ya.”

“You call me Mouth, though.”

“Yeah, cause that’s what you is.”

“The nicknames come from physical things or how people act,” Race said, setting down the last card in the pile in front of Spot, then picking up his own pile. “You talk too much. Youse a mouth. I’m a gambler- Racetrack is just a lil more personal to my taste in what to bet on.”

“Don’t people find that offensive, though? Like, maybe not so much Specs cause glasses ain’t like, a bad thing, but-”

“Youse offended by us callin’ you Mouth?” Spot asked, sounding amused as he picked up his cards.

“No, it’s fine. You don’t have ta stop.”

“Good, ‘cause I wasn’t gonna, no matter what you said.”

“Still, though. How does like.. Crutchie not get offended. We’re calling him directly by his disability.”

“Crutchie likes bein’ called Crutchie,” Race said, looking somewhat upset by the implication that he’d call his friend something he didn’t like. “If he didn’t we’d call ‘im somethin’ else. Plus, Crutchie’s name ain’t even that far off his real one.”

“What’s his real name?” Davey asked.

“Charlie,” Race said before he could stop himself.


Spot was giving Race a sharp look, one that made Davey’s heart start to pump faster in his chest. Davey couldn’t really tell what was happening anymore- Race and Spot were having an entire conversation without saying a word. He hesitantly picked up his cards, attracting both their attention with the noise.

“We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout this anymore.” Spot said, still giving Race a look out of the corner of his eye. “We’s playin’ cards. Nothin’ else.”

“Hey, uh,” Race said, earning himself another glare from Spot, but a less angry seeming one. “Pretend you didn’t hear that. ‘Specially not from me.”

“Got it.”


A few days later, Davey and Les arrived at the distribution gates to see the hoard of Manhattan newsies standing around and talking. They made their way over to Jack who was rubbing at his arm nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Les asking, looking up at Jack.

“Eh, Crutchie’s leg’s givin’ ‘im trouble this mornin’. Said he’d be right behind us but he ain’t here yet.”

“Why don’t you go check on him?” Davey asked.

“And leave the rest ‘a the boys here with the Delancey’s?” He scoffed. “Ain’t happening.”

“We don’t need ya protectin’ us Jack,” Romeo said, crossing his arms. “Go check on ‘im.”

Jack grumbled something incomprehensible.

“I’ll go check on ‘im,” Specs said, stepping out of the group of Newsies, rolling his eyes at Jack overprotectiveness. Davey watched as Specs took off towards the lodging house.

“I hate this,” Jack said quietly.

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine,” Davey said, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack mumbled. “I just worry about ‘im. ‘Specially since the strike. It just..” He trailed off for a second, staring down at the ground. “I hate seein’ ‘im hurt.”

Davey nodded sadly. Davey had hated seeing Crutchie hurt too, hated watching the Delancey’s drag him off by his bum leg, and they were nowhere near as close as Jack and him were at the time. Davey couldn’t even imagine how Jack felt when it happened.

After a couple of minutes, Specs returned with Crutchie walking next to him. The pace they were walking at was slow and Crutchie’s face was pained. Davey knew this happened sometimes. There’d be days when his leg was aching so bad he couldn’t get out of bed, much less sell papers. While he didn’t look quite that bad now, Crutchie didn’t look good. His face was clammy and pale, his grip on his crutch looked desperate, and even from the distance Davey could see him biting down on his lower lip.

Jack perked up visibly, uncrossing his arms and straightening his back. “Crutchie!”


It happened suddenly. One instant Crutchie was calling back to Jack, and the next he was wincing as his crutch fell out from under his arm, too much of his weight landed on his bad leg, and he crashed to the ground. Jack was running- Davey was running. Specs couldn’t grab him fast enough- Crutchie hit the ground and yelled out- grabbing his leg groaning.

“Crutchie!” Jack screamed, Davey running behind him.

Specs was crouched down next to Crutchie when Jack and Davey reached him. Crutchie was sitting down then, his bad leg extended and his good one curled against his chest, his crutch laying on the ground at his side. Specs was rubbing Crutchie’s bad leg with both hands, asking every few seconds if he was okay and making sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Crutchie mumbled through his clenched teeth.

“Damnit, Crutchie,” Jack mumbled. “If your legs hurtin’ you this bad just tell me. You ain’t sellin’ papes like this.”

“It’s fine, Jack, my leg ain’t too bad-”

“That’s a lie ‘nd we both know it.”

“I agree with Jack. Let’s get get ya back to the lodging house, Charlie.”

Davey didn’t even realize what he’d done till he noticed Crutchie’s hands tighten around his leg and his shoulders tense up.

“What- why- why’d you call me that? Who gave you my name?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

Suddenly, Jack shoved him backwards. Davey nearly fell down as he stumbled. Jack gave him a sharp glare that Davey understood immediately. Back off.

Davey walked back over to the other newsies at the distribution gate.

“The hell was that about?” Romeo asked quickly.

“Why’d Jack shove ya?” Race questioned, and Davey blocked out the chorus of other questions being thrown at him.

Before Davey could answer Specs came walking over. Behind him Davey could say Jack helping Crutchie back up, who glanced over his shoulder and said something quietly. The two then started walking back to the lodging house.

“Jack’s gonna wanna talk to ya,” Specs said. “Give ‘im a little ta cool off first. He said he wants you to meet him at the lodging house in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh god,” Romeo said from behind him and Race mumbled, “What the hell’d you do, Davey?”

Davey ignored them both and reached into his pocket and handed Les a few coins, telling him how many papers to buy for the day, and then instructing him to stick by Specs till he got back.


When Davey arrived at the lodging house Jack was waiting for him at the door.

“Hey, Jack-”

“Shut up. Just follow me,” Jack mumbled, standing and walking towards the fire escapes ladder. Davey followed him silently up the ladder, then sat on the box Jack pointed at for him on the rooftop. It was hot outside, but that wasn’t the only reason he was sweating. Davey had upset Crutchie- and from what he understood, Crutchie was one of the most important things in Jack’s world. God, Davey thought. I messed up bad.

“So, who told you ‘is real name?” Jack spoke as he pulled a box up next to Davey’s.

“It came out when I was playin’ cards with Spot and Race the other day.”

“I’m gonna kill ‘em,” Jack grumbled.

“Listen, Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ta call ‘im by it. It just-”

“I ain’t the one you need ta apologize to,” Jack said, turning his head from the cityscape to face Davey.

“I’ll go apologize to him right now-”

“No, Davey. Sit. Crutchie needs a little time ta.. Calm down, I guess. Ya freaked ‘im out. It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone call ‘im that name.”

“Not even you?”

“Nah. It.. connects ‘im back to a bad time in his life.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack sighed. “Why’s you always gotta ask so many questions?”

“Oh- sorry, if you don’t wanna say it’s fine. It’s not my place to-”

“Calm down. It didn’t mean it.” Jack turned his head away from Davey and back to the city, looking out over all the buildings.

“Crutchie didn’t have a good home life. Most ‘a us don’t have ‘em the best.. Most of us don’t got ‘em at all anymore. Crutchie don’t got a family no more- not blood at least. But when he did.. It was real bad.”

Jack stopped talking to a second, rubbing at his arm absentmindedly while he collected his thoughts. Davey didn’t say anything, just watched him.

“I didn’t meet Crutchie till the worst of it was already over. He told us later on why everythin’ had happened. His uh.. He got polio when he was real little. Maybe four he said, he don’t really remember exactly when cause it’s a slow thing. Anyway, his family was ‘im, his two brothers, and his ma’ and pa’. His ma’ got polio shortly after he did. It wound up killin’ her.”

Jack paused again, swallowing roughing.

“His pa’ drank a lot. His dad and one of his brothers, the older of ‘em, blamed ‘im for his mother dyin’. They beat on ‘im, but it wasn’t too bad. Crutchie couldn’t fight back at all or anythin’. He couldn’t walk with his leg gettin’ worse. He didn’t even have a crutch back then. He had ta drag himself around, from what he told me.

“Anyway. Things, uh, escalated. His dad lost ‘is job and he found a new one but it didn’t pay half as well.. They stopped givin’ ‘im food, for the most part, ‘cept what he took for himself, or one of his brother’s could sneak to ‘im. His dad got mad if he caught ‘em though.

“Eventually, it uh.. It all came to its head and ‘is.. They decided to get rid of him.”

Jack stopped talking then. His eyes were wide and fixed on the ground, his back hunched over. Davey felt like he was gonna be sick. But he needed to know. He needed to know.

“What.. what do you mean?”

Jack took in a hung gulp of air then let it go. He looked over to Davey.

“His dad tried to kill ‘im. He tried to choke him to death. Crutchie doesn’t really.. remember most ‘a it, but he said one his brothers was screamin’ his name. Beggin’ their dad to stop. He chickened out in the end- he threw Crutchie out on the street, barely conscious. Crutchie said the last thing he remembers is his dad sayin’ to his brother that he’d kill ‘im if he went after Crutchie. Then his memory goes out.

“I don’t know how long he was layin’ there on the sidewalk, unconscious. All I know is it was night time when we found ‘im. Real late. Me and Specs dragged ‘im back to the lodging house. We couldn’t really.. really tell if he was alive or not. Or if he’d make it, if he was. He looked.. awful.

“He was covered in bruises and scrapes and he was so small. He still is but.. It was so much worse back then. You could see his bones- every ridge of his spine. Everything. It was.. Horrible.”

Jack froze up, frowning, shaking his head softly. He looked over to Davey.

“Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay,” Davey mumbled, desperately wanting to reach out and touch Jack- to put his hand on Jack’s back and try to comfort him. But he didn’t. “I ask you to tell me.”

After a moment’s silence, Jack started again.

“He didn’t move a whole lot the first couple of weeks. Everyone pitched in to pay his stay and to feed him. He looked miserable. Really, none of us thought he’d live but.. we weren’t gonna give up on him. We got ‘im a crutch and eventually he was able to start walking around, slowly but surely. We made sure he didn’t overdo it. He couldn’t talk to tell us his name. He had these.. dark purple bruises- practically black- circling his neck from his father’s hands. It hurt for ‘im to talk, so he didn’t. We called him Crutchie cause it was easy ta remember, and he didn’t seem ta mind it.

“He never told any of us his real name till kinda recently, actually. He said not to call him by it though cause it takes him back to that day with his dad ‘nd his brother. He doesn’t like to think ‘bout it. Or talk ‘bout it. You can imagine why.”

Jack stopped talking again, but this time Davey knew it was because they’d reached the end of the story. His nausea hadn’t died down- in fact, it was slowly getting worse. The story was awful enough on it’s own- but knowing the he had taken Crutchie back to that day… He couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t handle the guilt swelling up in his stomach and choking him (just like Crutchie’s dad had done to him- oh god- he was gonna throw up-)

Davey stood up and stumbled away, spilling the contents of his stomach as far away from Jack as he could get. Jack got off his box and appeared behind Davey, rubbing his sympathetically.

“God- god- I’m such an idiot,” Davey mumbled, rubbing his sleeve across his mouth. “I can’t believe- what I did to him-”

“You couldn’t ‘a known,” Jack said, sighing. “I shouldn’t ‘a shoved ya. I overreacted.”

“I upset Crutchie. I deserved it.”

Jack didn’t say anything in reply to that, he just frowned and rubbed Davey’s back until stood back up to his full height.

“Sorry about- uh- throwing up on your penthouse.”

“It’s fine. I’ll clean it up later. Let’s go down. Crutchie’s probably calmed down by now.”

Davey nodded, following Jack over to the edge of his roof and back down the fire escape. He followed Jack inside and over to the bed Crutchie was laying in, the one in the furtherest corner of the room. Crutchie was curled up in it, the sheets thrown to the side, facing the wall and picking at loose threads from the pillowcase silently, aside from the occasional sniffle.

Jack held out a hand, telling Davey to wait by one of the other beds that was a little ways off. He watched as Jack walked over and tapped Crutchie’s shoulder gently.

Crutchie shifted in the bed carefully to avoid upsetting his leg any further but so that he could see Jack.

“You doin’ better, Crutchie?”

He nodded softly, carefully pushing himself into a sitting position.

“I’m doin’ better, yeah. I ain’t caught back there anymore.” Crutchie said through his teeth- still clenched from pain.

“And your leg?”

“It’s been better, but I’ll live,” He replied, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

“Alright. Glad ta hear it. Youse gotta start takin’ better care of yourself,” Jack said softly, reaching out to run his fingers through Crutchie’s soft hair. “No one cares if you ain’t feelin’ well. We all want ya safe, even if it means not sellin’ for a day.”

Crutchie nodded, leaning into Jack’s touch and closing his eyes. He was exhausted.

“Hey, Crutchie. Davey has some stuff he wants ta say to ya. I’ll give ya both some space. I’ll be just outside. That alright?”


With that, Jack gave Crutchie a long look, eyes sad and full of caring. He stood up from the crouched position he’d been at and walked away, sending Davey over before exiting the lodging houses’ door.

Davey’s body language was timid. His shoulders were hunched over so that he wasn’t at his full height, he was wringing his hands together nervously, and his face looked slightly green. He couldn’t force himself to look Crutchie in the eye- he felt so awful about what he’d done. He’d hurt Crutchie- he’d taken him away from his life with his friends and his family- his real family, the family that mattered , that loved him unconditionally- and thrown him back to his old life, where he was starving and his father had his hands wrapped around his neck and he was gasping for air- he was suffocating and-

“Hey, Davey, calm down,” Crutchie said, his face painted with concern. “Ya look like youse seen a ghost.”

Davey noticed how short his breaths were coming, but he couldn’t deepen them.

“Davey, hey. It’s alright. Sit down with me, hm?” Crutchie adjusted himself so that his legs were hanging over the edge of the bed and he was facing out into the room, making space for Davey to sit beside him. He patted the mattress softly, and Davey sat down in the empty space.

“I’m guessin’ Jack told ya everythin’?” Crutchie asked, and Davey nodded. “Sorry ya had to hear ‘bout all that. ‘Bout my sad life. It ain’t important anymore.”

“Crutchie,” Davey breathed out, voice sounding exhausted. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the one ‘a us that messed up today. And it is important. I didn’t have the right to know your real name- much less to call ya by it. You’ve got every right to be mad at me.”

“I ain’t mad, Davey.”

“W-what? Why not?”

“You scared me, sure, but I ain’t mad at ya. I mean.. it ain’t like you coulda know how it’d affect me. It sucked for me ta get taken back there but.. it ain’t your fault that’s where my name takes me. That’s just my lovely brain, doin’ me a favor by remindin’ me of that night.”

Crutchie huffed out a humorless laugh that only made Davey feel sadder.

“Still though. I shouldn’t ‘a called you by your name without your permission. Crutchie, I’m so sorry that all that happened to you. I didn’t know.”

“It’s all in the past know. Ain’t nothin’ that can be done ‘bout it anymore. I’ve moved on. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. My dad.. He was just tryin’ to do what was best for my brothers.”

“You didn’t deserve it. You know that, right? There’s no excuse. It doesn’t matter if it would’ve helped your brothers. You were his child. He was supposed to take care of you.”

Crutchie nodded. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes again. He sniffled.

“Yeah, youse right. Givin’ ‘im an excuse makes it… easier to swallow sometimes. Makes it easier to understand why he’d.. he’d try ta..”

He couldn’t force out the last word. It caught in his throat at the circle of bruises that once found themselves home there. He wasn’t sure when the tears had escaped his eyes and started to make their way down his cheeks, he just knew he could feel them against his burning face. Davey wrapped an arm around Crutchie’s shoulder and pulled him in close, letting Crutchie rest his head on his chest and cry against him. He rubbed soothing circles in his back gently. Davey didn’t know how long they sat there like that.

“It sucks,” Crutchie mumbled, voice muffled by Davey’s shirt and his own sobs. “I ain’t worthless. I know that. But.. my family sure did think I was, huh? Makes me wonder sometimes if.. if my dad woulda done it if I was different. If they woulda kept me. If I woulda had a family..”

“Hey,” Davey said softly, pulling Crutchie away from his body so he could see his face, meeting his eyes. “You do got a family. Just not one by blood. Blood don’t make a family. Blood doesn’t matter if there isn’t love behind it.”

“We’s a family?” Crutchie asked softly- happily, because he already knew the answer.

“Of course we are.”


Later that day, after everyone had sold all their papers and they were meeting at Jacobi’s Deli for dinner, Davey and Jack went over to the lodging house to check on Crutchie and see if he was feeling better.

“Yeah, yeah,” Crutchie said, pulling himself out of bed slowly with Jack’s help. “I’m feelin’ back to a hundred percent. I wanna come.”

“Good to hear it,” Davey said, grabbing the crutch from the place it leaned on the wall and handing it to Crutchie.

They moved slowly, just to be safe, but none of them minded. The sun was getting low and the heat was starting to die off, so the walk was peaceful instead of miserable.

“By the way,” Crutchie began as the walked, “I never did ask- who told you my real name?”

“You know when I went to play cards in Brooklyn the other day?”

Crutchie nodded and hummed. “So it was Race?”

“Yeah- how’d ya know it wasn’t Spot?”

“‘Cause Spot gets it better than Race does. I’d never tell his name, he’d never tell mine.”

“Wait- I thought only Race knew Spot’s real name?” Jack asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

“What Race doesn’t know won’t kill ‘im,” Crutchie replied, shrugging lightly. “Spot ‘nd Ise better friends than you’d think.”

There was a brief silence as of sort of awestruckness fell over Davey and Jack.

“Beside the point, though. For the sake of fairness, ‘nd maybe revenge, pray tell, Race ever told ya his real name?” Crutchie asked.

“No,” Davey said, shaking his head. “But wouldn’t telling make you a hypocrite?”

“Maybe,” Crutchie shrugged again. “But it’ll be funny to see the look on his face tomorrow.”

Crutchie stopped walking for a second and grabbed Davey arm, pulling him close. Davey had to bend down slightly so that Crutchie could reach his ear. He cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered…


“Hey guys!” Davey yelled, running up to the gates of the distribution center, Les trailing behind him.

“‘Sup, Mouth?” Race asked through a chorus of ‘Hey Davey!’s and ‘Hiya David!’s

Davey couldn’t help but smile.

“Not much. Sup with you, Anthony?”

Davey watched as Race’s eyes widened with shock and the nearby Newsies fell silent. Race suddenly clenched his fists at his sides.

“Crutchie! I’m gonna kill you!”

Through the crowd Crutchie’s laugh could be heard, clear as a bell, as he took off running, Race chasing after him.

This is my jojo secret santa gift for @sakapet

Merry Christmas, Saka! :> I hope you like this little jotakak drawing! Come talk to me about jojo sometime :D 

kerfundlesnatchle  asked:

Congratulations im happy for your dad!!! The power of the meme is strong enough to beat fucking cancer damn

what? oh, thanks, but that’s not what that means. like nothing has changed in the statistics and long term sense of things. the tumors he had have been removed and he will be scanned again soon to check for any further developments. in all likelihood it will have returned and then it’s just up to whether or not it can be removed. see the thing is, it’s the rate at which the cancer cells multiply and travel which make this particular cancer so very difficult. 
that being said, yes, he is currently, as far as we know, free of tumors which is of course in the moment a good thing. he is gaining health and slowly returning to his forever ambitious and unfathomably energetic self and that’s wonderful. he’s in a good place now and that’s all that matters - after all, in a situation like this (and maybe just in general) there is no point in focusing on anything that isn’t now
i’m very sorry if this is a letdown to any of you and please be careful with which sources you trust for information! 


So I got carried away and this is really long… But I also love it so I hope you do.

Maybe I was the cause of all the problems in my relationship with Cal. Maybe it was actually me and not him. I mean we both had fucked up schedules and many times we went weeks without actually seeing each other.

He goes to bed around three in the morning and I wake up at about four in the morning to train. I don’t get home till about five and by then Cal is already filming or doing other things.

I’m a gymnast and he’s youtuber and quite honestly I thought his schedule was messing us up, but now I’m sure it’s mine.

I do an hour of yoga and stretching before eating breakfast and doing a few miles of running. Then I drive to the gym where I live from six to three. Then I finally head home to my flat and I’m exhausted, but it doesn’t end there because after dinner I go back to the gym to teach a class for the little ones.

Unfortunately, for my relationship, I do this Monday through Friday and weekends are the same minus teaching classes.

Maybe I was the reason my relationship was failing. It was most likely me and the olympics.

“Why are you falling off the beam on a simple turn?!” My trainer screams from the other side of the gym and I look up at him.

“Because my relationship is failing!” I scream back.

“Well get back on the beam and focus. Even the three year olds can turn on beam without falling and you have a gold medal on it.”

He has a point. You’d think after being an overall bronze medalist at worlds two years in a row and having a gold medal on beam at the olympics, I’d be able to do better.

“Can you get through today’s practice or do I need to send you home to work out your boyfriend troubles?” He asks and I shake my head.

“No because he doesn’t even realize that we’re falling apart.” I explain before stepping back onto the beam.

“Nope get on down. You’re not gonna get injured right now because you’re unfocused.” He reaches up and grabs my waist before pulling me down.

“Go home, talk to him and come back here tomorrow ready to stick the routine we’ve given you because in two months you’re competing in the qualifier and I need your head on straight and the routine clean.”

“Okay.” I nod in agreement before walking over to my bag and pulling on my team Great Britain sweatshirt that match my blue shorts that sit on top of my leotard. Once I’m outside I pull out my phone and stare at it for a few moments.

“Hey Cal, can I come over?”

“Yeah of course. I just have some of the guys over filming. I thought you had training.”

“Let me out early, but I’ll be over in a few. Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll unlock the door.” He hangs up and by the time I get to the flat all I hear is pure chaos.

“It’s the Olympic gymnast who got stuck dating Callum!” I hear Harry shout before pulling me in for a hug.

“Aren’t you usually doing flips at this time of day?” He asks and I nod.

“Coach sent me home.” I explain as he steps away and let’s Cal come over to greet me.

“You hurt?” He questions before kissing me on my head.

“No just off my game I guess. I mean I fell off the beam doing a simple pirouette and I’m the gold medalist on beam. I do pirouettes in my sleep.” I ramble slightly and he notices something is wrong.

“Well go change and join us.” He pats me on the shoulder and I nod before placing my bag down and walking to his room. I pull off my leotard and other clothes before grabbing one of his weezy tops and pulling my shorts back on. I go to leave his room before looking in the mirror and realize I actually look like shit.

“I’m not gonna be caught on camera with this.” I mumble as I pull my hair out of the messy bun. I quickly put some concealer on my neck because a bruise the beam gave me looks like a hickey and then I’m ‘ready’ to be seen by others.

“Guys look it’s the girl with the Olympic gold medal.” Someone throws a vlogging camera in my face.

“Stop it. It was one gold medal.”

“Yeah but you’re family has a room in their house dedicated to medals and awards that you received growing up.” Cal points out

“Well it’s my only Olympic gold medal.”

“My bad I forgot about the bronze on uneven bars.”

“I could be better. Have you met the American team their incredible.” I look down at my callused hands and think about the eighteen years of my life that have been dedicated to the sport. My twenty first birthday was spent at the gym training for nationals. I mean I pushed so much of my life off just to compete. Yet I still feel unaccomplished. Like I could do more and to others it sounds stupid but for me it’s just the life of a gymnast.

“Anyway I’m gonna go lie down. I didn’t realize how out of it I am till now.” I stand up off the couch and Callum looks worried.

“Guys set up the video I’ll be back.” He follows me into his room and I take a seat on the bed.

“What’s going on? You haven’t missed a day of training since you had the flu three months ago.” He asks and I shrug while rubbing on my right ring finger that has the Olympic Rings tattooed onto it.

“I’m ruining our relationship. I mean we barely ever see each other and when we do, the guys are around, or we’re both out of it and tired. I mean we haven’t spent time watching Netflix and relaxing together in months. I mean we maybe get to call each other every week or so.” I shrug before looking up and facing the reality.

“I mean you started dating me right after the Olympics and I’m not the same person I was back then. I had about three or four months of normalcy where I just hung out and relaxed and only went to the gym twice a week. Now it’s a year later and I’m training hard for nationals and to make the national team for worlds. This is the real me and the real me is fucking up everything. I mean did you not notice my lack of presence at the party last week or that I wasn’t there for the Sidemen football match? I mean I missed a lot and I feel like you don’t care. Like it doesn’t matter.”

“You think I don’t care or notice that you aren’t there? Cause I do and yeah it hurts but I don’t say anything because you’re pursing a dream and I’m not gonna stop you from doing that. You’re incredible and I’m not gonna stop you from reaching you’re highest potential. I don’t wanna make you feel bad so I don’t say anything. And yeah maybe you and I don’t talk much and this is the first time I’ve seen you in person in a month, but I still love you. I mean what do you want me to say? That I mad? Cause I am, but I’m not gonna do that to you. I mean it sucks when all the others guys have their girlfriends around and we all go out to eat and mine isn’t there because she’s training. Yeah it sucks but I don’t say anything because I’m not gonna stop you from doing you’re best. Im not gonna make you feel like shit for doing you. So don’t come in here and act like I don’t try because it’s you that doesn’t have time for me.” He shouts back and I realize that I was… no I am… the problem.

“So what does this mean?” I ask and he places his hands over his face before looking up at the ceiling and back down to me.

“I think it means we’re done.” He admits and I nod before picking up my bag and walking out of the room.

“Wait where you going?” Harry asks and I just ignore him. Once I’m out of the flat I just run. I run to my car and I drive straight to the gym.

“Why are you back here? I’m not letting you train upset.”

“I’m here because he fucking broke up with me.” I finally respond after a few moments of silence.

“And I’m ready to train.”


“You look so tense. Like go get a drink.” My teammate jokes and actually consider that as an option.

“I mean Cal and I split like a month ago and I have been quite lonely. I mean I haven’t slept with a guy in so long. I mean it’s hard to have a sex life when I’m always here.”

“Well there’s always the boys.” She motions over to the chalk bin where some of the Olympic guys are standing.

“Mel really?” I fidget with my grips and she nods.

“I mean I had that fling with Luke.” She smiles and I look over at them.

“They’re just as horny as we are. Like I’m just about to for one of them at this point.” She shrugs and I nod.s

“Let them know you’re single sweetie.” I wink before grabbing her hand and pulling her over to the chalk bin by the bars.

“Move it or lose it boys.” I smirk before looking up. “Or do something with it.”

“Oh is that right?” Ash grabs my waist and I nod. He pulls me closer to his body and leans down to kiss behind my ear. “I’ll see you by my car.” He leaves another kiss on my neck before looking around.

“I’m sorry do you guys need some space?” I hear my coach shout and I quickly pull away from Ash and turn around to face my trainer who is holding up an elastic band.

“I thought we were doing bars.” I raise an eyebrow and he holds up another elastic band.

“You and Ash here and gonna be having fun today and not the fun you wanted to have.” He throws the bands at us and I contemplate throwing myself on the ground and crying.

“Feet together and up the rope. Come on you two, now you’re gonna do that ten times each and once you’re done do it another ten times.” He shouts and Ash looks at me while smirking.

“Good I’ll get to see your cute ass climb up the rope.”

“Not gonna be cute when he makes us do even worse things. Last time he caught me kissing my boyfriend I was sixteen and he made me do twenty times up the rope, a five mile run, and thirty standing tucks before making me call the boy and tell him he would ruin my future and I couldn’t date him.”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah and he only let me date after I won gold on beam. Now he’s pissed because of you because he thinks you’re gonna ruin my chance at gold again.” I explain while tying my ankles together.

“What about my chance at gold?” He jokes and I grab onto the rope. “My bad I mean my chance at gold for the third worlds in a row.” He reaches over and tries to tip me over before climbing up the rope.

“So Im gonna go take an ice bath. I gotta take an ice bath.” I limp over to ice baths as Asher follows me.

My trainer had us do five miles, and then it got worse. Back tuck followed by a burpee. Twenty sets of five followed by chin ups on the high bar and then he made me continue running. Then he made me do my floor routine full out four times in row. The worst was that Ash was allowed to stop after the running and he sat back cheering me on while laughing.

“Can you possibly carry me?” I ask and he grabs onto my waist and throws me over his shoulder. Once we get to the ice baths he puts me down and I slowly climb into the freezing water.

“How’s the boyfriend been?” He asks and I can’t help but laugh.

“I wouldn’t have flirted with you if he was still my boyfriend.” I explain and he leans against the edge of the tub next to me.

“Why’d you split?”

“I don’t have time for a relationship when I’m here being an Olympic gymnast.”

“Oh trust me… There’s time. That one hour break we get between twelve and one for lunch and then the break we have from three to seven and again when you have a break at nine after you’re done teaching the little ones. Trust me there’s time, but unless both people are trying, you won’t feel like there is time.”

“And weekends at night. You’re boyfriend sounds like an ass.” He laughs and I shake my head.

“No I’m the ass. I didn’t try either. I wanted him to try and I couldn’t expect him to.” I look up at him and he shakes his head before standing up.

“I can’t sleep with you. I’m sorry but I was flirting back because I’m an ass but you love another guy. Like come on you still love Cal.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up out of the ice bath.

“You should stretch, take a shower, and go get your boyfriend back.”

“No I don’t love him anymore, it’s fine.” I try to dissuade him and he smiles softly.

“Can’t do that to you. I mean you’re on my Olympic team.” He laughs and I cross my arms over my chest.

“Okay, well thanks Asher.”


“Hey Harry, is Callum home? I gotta talk to him.”

“Oh, what’re you doing here?” He hugs me before pulling me inside and pointing to the kitchen.

“Wait before I go, is he seeing someone new?” I ask and he shakes his head.

“You’re good.” He laughs while motioning for me to follow him inside.

“Callum? Can we talk?” I ask and he looks up before nodding and motioning for him to follow me.

“Mind me asking why you’re here?” He asks while shutting the door behind us.

“Cause I got to practice and for the first time since I was sixteen I got fully punished. I had to climb the rope with just my upper body twenty times and then ran five miles. Then did so many back tucks into burpees that I almost passed out and it didn’t stop there. I had to do chin ups and handstands and all that other shit before dying and doing my floor routine fully out.”

“The last time that happened I got caught having my first kiss outside. It was my first boyfriend and it was so worth the pain I endured after. However, today wasn’t the same because I got caught flirting with another guy who then turned me down because he told me I’m still in love with you. And he’s right, I am still in love with you, but he also made a really good point and I want you to listen.” I place my bag down and he motions for me to continue.

“He mentioned that I do have enough time for us. He pointed out that there is enough time and I think I messed up before and yeah I do want to get back together but please just tell me if I’m already overstepping my boundaries. I mean I’ll just go now if you don’t want to get back together.”

“Don’t think that, please don’t think that. Yes I want to get back together and yes I’ll find a way to work this out so please don’t cry.” He pulls me into his arms and I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Missed you shorty.” He pulls away and brushes my hair away from my face before kissing me.

“I love you.” He picks me up and I place my face into his shoulder.

“I love you too.” I smile before leaving kisses on his cheek. “I love you so so much.” I laugh as I keep leaving kisses on his cheek and he smiles before turning his head and kissing me again.

“I’m not letting you go again.”

anonymous asked:

im gonna be a huge sap and ask fic. how do they prepare?? how do they FEEL??? who cries?? (me. i cry)

“Apologies, Highness,” says the herald wearily. “You muddled the lines about history and lineage.”

“Again,” says Laurent.

Damen sighs, impatient. “This seems needlessly complicated.”

“You have said that,” says Laurent, “four times within the hour.”

“And yet it never stops being true.”

“I know. You wish we could be married in the Akielon style, and be done.”

“We will be married in the Akielon style.”

“A blow to the head and throwing me over your shoulder?”

A hush with the tension of teetering glass falls over the guards and servants in the room. Laurent throws a thin-lipped smile at his betrothed, and feels his skin dance with the knowing heat in the look that Damen throws back at him.

“Oh, it’s different for kings,” Damen says. “We don’t dirty our hands; we get someone else to knock our spouse unconscious. I’ve had ten separate people volunteer for the job.”

Laurent’s face breaks before he can stop it. He’s not entirely on guard, here, surrounded by the activity of two kingdoms and two traditions and one immense, ponderous, all-important ceremony. Someone is trying to fit Damen for some garment or other, and Laurent doesn’t think Damen has noticed yet. His dark eyes are still delighting in Laurent’s laughter.

They will be married in the Akielon style. They will be married in the Veretian style. No head injuries will be involved, but if Laurent has to endure a formal dance that ends with their hands being joined and covered with olive leaves, Damen can put his mind to learning a few lines of recitation.

“Barbarian,” Laurent says lightly.

Damen says, in Akielon, “I wish we could be married today. I am tired of waking up in a world where you aren’t mine. All of this is just…words.”

Laurent’s breath catches. The furtive, curious quiet of the room doubles in intensity.

“Ten minutes,” Laurent says. It’s a dismissal.

When the room has emptied but for the two of them, Laurent goes to the table and flicks through the pages of the Veretian ceremony–along with the added sections for royalty, and a whole new section, the ink barely dry, creatively drawing on a legend of harmony born out of war, to allow for the fact that the King’s intended will not be expected to bring forth heirs in the usual way. He finds what he’s looking for, the call and response, and hands the page to Damen.

“Start at the top,” Laurent says.

Damen raises his eyebrows and reads, “Who walks this path and leaves their shoes behind?”

Laurent says, “I come to you in trust, with the skin of my feet unprotected.”

“Who poured this cup to over-full and spilled water on the floor?”

“I come to you in plenty, and pledge you all that I have.”

“Who stands alone in such a room of souls?”

“I come to you in pride, and give only myself away.”

“Who ground the salt that now sits on your tongue?”

Laurent almost misses the cue. He is remembering one of the few weddings he saw as a child: bare toes beneath the sweep of the bride’s dress, the hem of it wet from stepping willingly across the puddle of water. The groom’s mouth, smiling, open for the white salt.

He says quickly, “I come to you in sorrow, heavy with all the tears yet to come.”

“Who bares their hands of gold and silver, and shows only skin?”

“I come to you in joy, light with my choice.”

“Who.” Damen swallows. “Who holds their heart so still beneath the knife?”

“I come to you in love, with my life’s blood for the taking.”

Damen opens his mouth, looks at the paper, and then lets his hand fall to his side. Awe rims his eyes like bruising fatigue. In the steady light of his expression, Laurent feels unbreakable.

“Just words,” he says.

“You’ve made your point,” Damen says.

“Damen,” Laurent says. “I’m yours already.”