#I only wish that the beautiful photos I see in my inbox are shared too

[an-na-ko]

I'm so sorry for your loss. I lost my cat of 16 years a few weeks ago. He was a stray that gradually became OK with being a house cat, and he was so loved. I hadn't been able to cry for him (my meds make crying a near impossible thing) until I read your comic. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

(I hope you don't mind a masterpost of replies! I know pet loss is extremely difficult for a lot of people, and I didn't want to fill up people's dashes with each reply, but know that each message means so much to me. We all love in such profound ways and losing our little companions hurts to a degree that is immeasurable.)

For the anons above, thank you for such a heartfelt message! One of the things that helped me through the worst of my grief was seeing other people who talked about their pet loss too. It made me feel so much less alone, especially in thoughts that echoed mine, but it also helped me see things in perspectives I've never considered.

I posted this comic in hopes that someone out there who needed it would feel seen and understood, and that it would maybe help process their loss. So it really means a lot to me to see that my comic has helped, in whatever way it could. I'm so sorry that we all understand this feeling, but I hope you never feel alone in missing the little lives that mean so much to you.

For anon above, I can't imagine how difficult that is. Lyra was a surrender, but it was very obvious from how well-loved, affectionate, and well-looked-after she was that her previous family had loved her.

I hope you don't feel like you failed your girl; there are circumstances that no one can control no matter what. Cats (and most pets in general) have an amazing ability that, despite language barriers, seem to know how much you love them, just as easily as we know how much they love us even if they can't say it. Your girl knows you love her. I don't fully know her circumstances or yours, but I truly hope you find that closure. 🫂

I haven't met a lot of people with cats named Lyra! I hope it didn't bother you too much to read such a painful comic about a cat with the same name, haha. I hope your little Lyra is healthy and happy, and please give her a little kiss for me! 🤍

thank you anons for reading my comic despite the heavy content, for connecting with it the way you did, and for the kind words! 🫂 I truly wasn't sure if anyone would want to read such a painful, raw comic about loss, but these messages really brighten my day. I hope your days are bright as well.

[seakicker]

me when literally everyone else: mmf yes so hot so sexy,,,, stretch marks? scars? moles? love it love it love it FUCK so sexy! I love love love tummy and boobs and big boobs and small boobs and boobs that are perky but also boobs that abide by gravity and boobs that spread out and I love love love chub and thick thighs and cellulite fuck it’s all so sexy I love I love I love I love feminine men I love big masculine men I love it all

me when myself: god I’m so ugly why

It could be because I’m trans especially because there’s good days and bad days but damn I hate parts of myself I KNOW I would drool over on other people. I draw people with my exact body type and lust and lust and lust and then I try to indulge myself and draw self-ship art but. I feel like I’m ugly or that the character I’m with wouldn’t like me EVEN THOUGH I KNOW THEY WOULD? Maybe it’s a confidence issue maybe it’s my dysphoria but that other anon talking about their experience with their commission and asshole artist reminded me of this damn dilemma. I love y/n fanfic so much cause it’s easier to forget myself and what I look like in the first person but damn. I hate myself in art and photos so much and I don’t even know why. Sorry if u didn’t really want to hear this in ur inbox lmao but ig this is the best place to vent into ahah

—⌚️

hello my sweet, thank you for coming to me and pls dont feel like you should apologize for venting here, it's part of what i'm here for and i like being able to listen. ik lots and lots of people, formerly myself (and still me on some days) included get that "i love my features on everyone else but hate them on myself" because i think that's just the nature of insecurity-- you feel like other people are "doing it right" or that things just look better on other people than they do on you. it's much easier to hold yourself to an impossible standard like beauty standards than it is to hold other people to the same standards, if that makes sense... any good person will know to not judge others but that doesn't stop you from judging yourself, you're your own worst critic. one thing that always kinda comforted me is knowing that i've never actually seen myself-- you only see yourself through mirrors and pictures but that's not really you, your camera doesn't capture real life dimensions and everything is flipped in the mirror, that sort of thing. you never see yourself, at least not in the way you look at other people, but i'm sure if you could see yourself through someone else's eyes (as the ol saying goes) you'd be surprised how fine/attractive/wonderful you look to everyone else. i can't comment on the dysphoria aspect so i can't offer any advice as far as that goes, but i think knowing that i'm not alone in my insecurity has always helped me so i try to remind other people that they're not alone in their insecurity too. the things that i don't like about myself are only because i'm my own worst critic and bc i hyperfocus on my flaws rather than the things i like about myself, and i think that's how it goes for a lot of people. but the things you like about yourself are more important than anything else!

another thing that's helped me is following models/influencers/etc that have my body type and similar features as me, ie thick eyebrows and a lil toothgap, and unfollowing models/influencers that i struggle with comparing myself to. your internet experience is yours to curate and there's nothing wrong with unfollowing models that you can't help but compare yourself to; it doesnt mean theyre a bad person or bodyshaming or anything, just that they may not be healthy for your experience and that's alright! so maybe that could help you too. i wish u the best of luck and i thank you for sharing your feelings with me; i think you're wonderful no matter what and i'm happy to be a place where you feel comfortable sharing your feelings and fantasies!

[shytastemakerthing]

hi!! may i request a matchup for ensemble stars and twisted wonderland? ^_^

i’m a pretty chill and lowkey individual. i’m usually very tolerant of other people and hardly anything angers me as i’m very patient and tolerant of other people even if they bother me. i have an unhealthy habit of ignoring and burying my negative emotions before they surface, and i also struggle to identify my true personality as it is locked behind the many masks i’ve put up due to my constant people pleasing. i secretly wish to be able to freely express myself and my opinions since i often hold myself back and am agreeable with other people even if i internally disagree. i have also been known to be a very smart and talented person who easily picks things up however i do not apply myself due to my lack of passion and low self esteem, so i usually frustrate people for wasting my potential. my hobbies are cosplaying, which i’m not too open about, and i also enjoy anything related to science and STEM and researching topics or theories i find interesting. i usually express my interest in someone by engaging in playful banter and i enjoy being teased even if i am very quick to fluster. i do not like people who are judgmental and rigid or emotionally volatile as i feel very pressured around them and am less likely to be comfortable acting like myself. i believe that’s all i have to say, thank you so much! :]

A/N: Thank you very much for your request! This honestly took off more than I thought that it would! This one will be the TWST matchup and then the Ensemble stars will be on a separate post. It may take some time to get to that one as I want to go through the other requests in my inbox first so they aren't waiting so long😊.

Honorable mentions for your TWST matchup include, Idia, Leona, and Trey!

I match you with......

Cater Diamond

• Okay, you guys vibe on an all new wavelength that you leave everyone else around your baffled and stunned, it's insane. Especially when it comes to the personality that you bith share. Keeping everything inside, hot letting people see and know the real you, and keeping things bottled in. Honestly, you two hit it right off the bat.

• It honestly didn't take Cater very long to figure out that you were like him in your own way, and with that, he felt understood when he was with you, almost as if he didn't have to keep on the mask of a carefree and happy student who could care less about anything when we, as an audience (as we have seen in some of his story), that it's quite the opposite.

• Not that it didn't mean to guys had smooth sailing the entire time. It took work and effort to build this relationship up, letting walls come down, in private, and getting to know and trust one another. But, once you both have gotten to that point within the relationship, it's rather a beautiful sight to anyone who sees the two of you #couplesgoals.

• Speaking of relationship, it was a rather funny story, you hith quite literally asked each other at the same time. The whole wanting to talk to each other in private, then talking over one another and urging the other to continue before it just came out. It made for good laughs and two very happy people.

• You're a cosplayer, no matter how much you are open about it, and you have a raging social media crazed boyfriend who can and will hype you up over every little thing. He would love to be able to see you dressed up and do a photo shoot of you to post something onto his Magicam. But, he will totally keep all of these pics private in a folder for only the of you to see if that is what you prefer. He will NEVER post any photo of you on his account unless if he has your exact, in words, permission to do so (consent is sexy, everyone!)

• If he DOES get permission to post any pictures of you or the both of you just doing whatever, because I totally see him as having a whole bunch of couples photos and goals moments littering his feed, you guys are a sensation. Pretty much everyone loves the both of you and the happiness that you bring one another! You guys have become the new media sensation of pure couples goals.

• Cater can be a pretty playful guy, especially where you are involved. He only wants to see tour happiness, real and true happiness, so he will never do or say anything at your expense. If there is any form of playful teasing, he is careful about it and backs off the moment that he sees it may be starting to get to you. And this involves protecting you from the teasing of others, no matter what anyone else says. The moment he sees you closing off and walls going up, he is there to remove you from thr situation as soon as possible.

• Even with a crazy day, he enjoys the calm and quiet moment that he gets to spend with you at the end of the day. He would take you to his dorm, both of you in your most comfortable clothes and he has the spice Ramen and anything else you'd like to eat ready. He loves being able to hold onto you, brush through your hair, he even uses his unique magic to create his clones to help. He's never been this happy before in his life.

• Overall, you're the reason he smiles now. No longer having to plaster one on and go about his day hiding. Because he doesn't have to hide when it comes to you. And every moment he gets to see you and ti spend time with you is a reminder that he really can be happy, and he will do anything to help ensure that same happiness for you.

[tommyspeakycap]

do you write for granit xhaka? if so, could you maybe write having a baby with him? anything you like really!! thanks xx

not written him before but suppose i can give him a go! here u go :) also tbqh i do love myself a bit of xhaka

baby xhaka

your husband shows your new baby girl off to the arsenal family

“She’s adorable!” Ben coos, an open mouthed smile decorating his tanned face as Saka and Kieran peer over each of his shoulders. “Aye,” Kieran agrees, turning to the new father with his best shit eating grin, “Sure she’s yours mate?”

The Swiss international laughs, shaking his head. Had he not been holding his little girl, he probably would have grabbed the younger Scottish player into something of a headlock as his payback for the thinly veiled joking insult. Instead he rolls his eyes and finds his eyes settling on you, sniggering a few feet away at said joke as Kieran welcomes you with a hug and a genuine congratulations. “She’s so little.” Saka interjects, seemingly oblivious to previous conversation and mockery. He’s much more in something of shock at the size of the tiny girl in her little pink onsie, wrapped in a cosy blanket. “How is she so little?” He repeats, in complete amazement.

“Wanna hold her?” You offer with a smile, pushing yourself off the wall to walk over.

“Oh no.” Bukayo immediately retracts at the very same time that Granit says “Absolutely not.”

“I do!” Emile pipes in, scurrying over from his spot a little father away. It’s like having multiple kids here, you note. His enthusiasm is met by a firm scowl from your husband that has him rooted to his spot and looking at you for help.

“Granit she won’t shatter if she’s not in your arms for five minutes, let him hold her.” You quip, much to his very obvious dismay as a furrow sets into his eyebrows. “But-“

“Granit.” You warn, “It’s your fault i have six stitches in a very unfortunate place right now because frankly, you have a large head that our daughter seemed to inherit. If i can manage that, i’m sure you can manage to hand her over for five minutes.” You clip, using your best new mothering tone that has him sighing.

“Three minutes?”

“This isn’t a negotiation!”

“Fine!”

Emile gets giddy, holding out his arms as your husband reluctantly passed her over with multiple comments about supporting her head and then some Swiss spoken curse words under his breath as the 20 year old beams and giggles at the feeling of holding the tiny baby girl. You make sure to take plenty of picture - of course of Emile, but also of your husband pouting to share you instagram later on when you share a little photo dump of her first time meeting the Arsenal family.

"Okay, I'll take her now." He interrupts impatiently after a few minutes, but a side eye from Ben White suggests he too wants his opportunity for a cuddle with the little one. You take her from Emile and instead of passing her to her expecting father, you bypass him and carefully transfer her into the tattooed arms of the new centre back. Ben holds her with relative ease. He has a nephew and he had grown very accustomed to holding him when he was as little as this.

Granit done about as much pouting and grumbling as one man can do while his daughter was being held and cooed over by all of his team mates, seeming to take the biggest liking to Emile. You don't mind that at all, if she grows up anything like him then you'd be a very happy mother.

You have to admit it warms you heart beyond belief the way he looks out for her, always keeping an eye on how those men hold her just in case someone is doing something wrong, making her even remotely or even possibly uncomfortable. He's going to be and in many ways already is the kind of dad you had always wished your partner would be.

The only time he was actively relaxed was when Mikel was holding her. He has three of his own kids and there's an energy about him that doesn't lend itself to worrying. He radiates a calm energy as he bounces subconsciously with the little girl in his arms to keep her sleeping. It's like something magic.

Your husband is off chatting with the team when you take your daughter back from him, still conversing with Mikel as he offers his congratulation and tells you that anything you need will be here for to help you whenever you should need it. He also gives you little tidbits and stories and tips from his own experience with having kids while living the life that you are currently leading. He had his kids while he was still playing professional football every day, so he knows better than most how that will be.

"I can feel him staring.” You hum quietly to the Arsenal manager, shaking your head with a smile. “He is a new father through and through.” Mikel notes with a laugh. To that, you nod. “Better get back to him before he goes insane waiting.”

Your husband’s smile is huge the second you turn to walk towards him, his eyes drinking you in as the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were earth shatteringly beautiful before, but pregnant and now holding a sweet little baby that’s half you and half him has sent his mind exploding. It didn’t shatter his world, it stopped spinning on its axis altogether whenever he sees you.

“My love,” he greets with a kiss to your lips, “And my little love.” He smiles, his hand finding here little head of faint hair with his thumb gently stroking over it. “Can i show her around?” He asks, eyes lit up with love for the two of you. You couldn’t have said no even if you had wanted to and there wasn’t a part of you that did as he wraps his arm around you and you walk out onto the pitch together. The Emirates is filling with fans waiting for the game to start and many cheers do rise up at the sight of the arsenal man who will play today with you and his new little baby. You pass her over to him carefully and go to take a seat in the dugout but for the time being. You’ll go up to his box later on in before the game starts.

The sweet tweets and messages roll in. It surprises you almost, knowing your husband tends to be on the opposite end of kindness. He’s been working hard recently to gain back the trust and belief of the fans, and it seems this adorable glance into his new fatherhood is swaying people far more than his actions anyway.

You giggle at the happy message and all the congratulations that flood through your inbox.

Later on, once you get home and are laying in bed, you post all those pictures to your instagram. Ones of Granit walking around the emirates carrying your daughter, plenty of the rest of the team holding her, seeing her little smile at Kieran as he makes a stupid face at her and the final one of Mikel holding her and standing next to you laughing that Granit had taken. Captioning it, “Introducing little Xhaka to the Arsenal+on derby day <3 doesn’t get much better than this.” With the Arsenal account reposting it, captioning it very sweetly;

“Welcome to the family, little Xhaka!”

[sk-lumen]

Hello dear enchantress Lumen,

I hope you are well and safe♥️ I just came here to seek for some advice from you and ladies out there if possible. I often get men complimenting me on my eyes and lips, more so my lips (I know damn well what they’re thinking about while they’re at it lol) but it’s become frustrating and to a point where I am objectified because of my looks.

I feel like I am a shell with a pearl inside- weird comparison I know but men just rather focus on what’s on the outside paying little attention to what may be inside. I like talking about mind stimulating stuff and the conversations get dragged to sexual stuff. While I am playful being sexually objectified is really a buzz killer 😞They start asking for naughty pictures and such. Every conversation I make online or in person with men has to always start with me addressing the fact that I do not send nude photos or videos.

I do understand that men naturally have a big appetite for sexual things. My question is dear Lumen; How do I deal with men like that? To have them to see more than and past my looks, but the beauty within? And also how can I keep the sexual thing playful yet not super nudity type? (Like for eg can I pose half nude or wear things to still keep his i terest but playful enough to leave the rest of my body to his imagination, hopefully enabling him to see me for my soul as well) Please tell me tips you would think be best in how to keep men going sexually but not getting things over done, how to handle situations like this, etc)

Your advice and tips are highly valued and appreciated by me. Thankyou in advance. ♥️♥️

Hi darling,

Note: you pose some very good questions which is why I thought it's important to share it with others. I will mention that advice requests, which are slightly more explicit in nature, should be redirected to my personal inbox where I can reply in-depth: either in private, or share on the blog to help others as well. I'm happy to help, however such topics are not the main focus of my tumblr blog, which I would like to keep as a more light and safe space, welcoming to all regardless of goals or sensibilities. I'm open to everyone else's thoughts on this suggestion.

After reading your story, let me address each topic one by one:

You may be looking for gentlemen in the wrong circles. There is a repeating pattern here, and it is either from navigating the same circles, or attracting the same type of guys, or simply being surrounded by the same type in your local area. For this, I would advise to experiment and try new places more associated with higher value men (theatre, art exhibitions, museums, upscale restaurants, etc).

This whole trend with provocative photos is simply a result of the p*rn culture combined with consumerism, which has normalized the access to/objectification of female bodies as a product so to speak. Yes, it is unquestionable that the female body is a work of art - but unfortunately today's society does not yet understand this. Ignore the trend of n*des. Do not for a second succumb to it unless you are in a 100% committed relationship, completely trust your partner, and feel very much safe to do so — and even then, thoroughly considered. Is it worth risking things like having those photos leaked, your privacy and trust broken, just for a nondescript guy’s validation? The smart answer is simple: never.

Generally speaking, women have an equally big appetite. It’s simply about how both genders (or any gender) are socialized in expressing it. LVM learn that they can express it any way they wish, HVM act as gentlemen, as they should; whereas women oscillate between the double-edged blade of being too little or too much, either way facing risking judgement over it.

How to deal with low value men (because no man of class would ask for licentious photos, and I stand by that statement)? Block, delete, move on. If you are determined to embark on a journey of leveling up, you cannot waste time with such behaviour, dear ladies. There’s zero benefit, zero return of investment from engaging with men that have not yet reached the baseline of respecting you as an individual. There's no two ways about this, and there’s nothing to negotiate there.

You can’t make a man see, do or say anything. He either sees your value or he doesn’t. If you have to bring arguments to the table, the game is already rigged and you have lost, because the moment you question your worth is when they have already won. The only thing you should do then is find another table.

"Can I (…) to keep his interest" - Please don’t entertain this line of thought darling, it serves no one but LVM. You don’t have to do anything to keep someone’s interest, except be yourself. If you have to go above and beyond, bend over backwards, be someone you’re not, or step out of your comfort zone/boundaries at any point, it’s time to walk away. Besides, a man's interest is not a warranty for commitment or love.

Don’t rely on the mindset of luring in a guy with desire, to capture his heart. It should be the other way around, or simultaneous. But if he desires solely your body before even considering your mind, heart or soul… his priorities are clear, and they’re not likely to change.

My universal strategy for dating/relationships, which is in the best interest of your sacred feminine energy, the safeguarding of your heart, and the wise use of your time, is this:

Have clear standards, know what kind of man you’re interested in, take your time dating accordingly. When you find a good one, let him court you until he’s proven himself as a worthwhile companion that you can trust with all of you. Once commitment is made clear (and I mean clear, open commitment stated out loud, no juvenile "what are we" allusions), wait at least 3-6 months to further strengthen the relationship’s foundation of intimacy, and only then open completely.

It may sound complicated or long-winded, but it is a smart strategy for countless reasons: only a HVM will be patient, consistent and dedicated enough to stay for the long run all throughout. LVM will either bail, protest, test your boundaries, or other red flags which will reveal themselves on their own and spare you the trouble.

Hope this helps. Take care. ❤️

-Lumen

[sarcastically-defensive17]

ahhh 25 and 12 or 6 with calum hood please!!

I AM SO SO SO SORRH RHAT THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAD A SUPER LONG HIATUS FOR PERSONAL REASONS AND I HOPE YOURE STILL INTERESTED AND NOT MAD AT MEEE 🥺LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING YOU ABSOLUTE ANGEL LOVIEEE

Help me - C. Hood

6: “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

12: “N-no, it’s alright, come here.”

25: “Please talk to me about it.”

GIF is not mine

TW: DEPICTIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE/ ABUSE BY A PARENT. MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND WOUNDS, GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF FAMILIAL VIOLENCE, SELF-LOATHING THEMES AND PHYSICAL INJURY.

If this content can potentially trigger you, please do not read. Your mental and physical health is important, so please, take care of yourself. My inbox is always open.

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Please do not copy, reproduce or repost without credit or in a manner than removes my username, and/or ownership from the work. Stealing isn’t cool, peeps.

<><><><><>

Not much was known about Y/N. In the entire school, she was the enigma. She had her friends, she was average in her classes, but still, her personal life was kept out of the general knowledge of the student body. Even the teachers knew little about the girl.

Her parents would come to every interview, every ceremony. She would go on trips, she would join in on the fun. She even attended the two week camp they held last semester, and it was the happiest that anybody had seen her.

Calum often watched the girl. He could see how her smile would drop when nobody was looking, how she would constantly flinch whenever anybody would raise a hand or wave an arm around her. He observed her more often than not, as stalkerish as that made him sound.

He was friends with the girl. They shared English and Math and some of the same friends. He enjoyed speaking to her, he loved to see her smile - genuinely smile.

He couldn’t deny the growing feelings he had for her. She was intelligent and kind, her smile could knock the breath out of him, and had done so many times. He seemed to lose all train of thought around her and the feeling was addictive. He had no idea if she felt the same, but he felt his own emotions grow tenfold every time she placed her hand on his arm, or offered her assistance when he was unsure about something, or simply when she laughed at a horrible joke that slipped from his lips.

She was angelic and he couldn’t put his finger on why such a beautiful person could look so skittish at a sudden movement.

He had his suspicions but he knew better than to pry.

However, his mind couldn’t be set at ease when they were placed into a group together. Their due date for their English project was impending, and as his mother was working from home, he chose not to offer his residence for the pair to gather.

“So, your house?” He was waiting by her car at the end of the day, unnoticed by Y/N as she rushed to her vehicle in the same manner she always did. She hadn’t expected him to be there, so when his voice travelled to her ears she couldn’t help but flinch and shy away. He frowned softly at her, “you okay?”

She blinked, tilting her head to look at him. “Excuse me?” Her keys were clasped tightly in her hands and her gaze kept flicking between her door and Calum.

He chose not to focus on the tension she held in her body. “The project?” He reminded her. “It’s due in two weeks and if we keep showing up with nothing done, Stone will be on our asses until we graduate.” He snorted, the sound bringing a small smile to Y/N’s face.

“I, um, I don’t think my house is a good idea,” her voice was soft - fragile. “Wouldn’t it be easier to do it during study? I can’t be out too late.”

“All of my study’s are designated to soccer practice, sorry,” he pursed his lips, pushing off of her car. “I would offer my place but I think my mum would genuinely murder me. She’s working from home and my sister is in the process of taking over all available space in the house with her loser friends.”

Y/N seemed to think over it for a minute. She knew that it would be a bad idea to have Cal come over, but she had no choice. She sighed, nails working carefully to pick at the skin around her cuticles - a bad habit she had adopted.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Hop in, just, there are rules you need to follow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, pulling the drivers side door open for her when the lock mechanism clicked open.

Her heart pounded in her chest the whole way home. The mere sight of the two story residence made her feel queasy on a regular day, but the upbeat boy sitting beside her made the thought of being at home much worse. She put the car in park, turning to Calum.

Her eyes rarely met his, he noticed.

“Um, you can’t be here after 5. My parents get home around then and they don’t really like visitors.” She pulled her keys from the ignition, clamping her eyes shut for a brief moment. Sure, Calum was her friend - he was a great guy, and Y/N genuinely enjoyed his presence - but she couldn’t shake the feeling that having him at her house would end horribly. “No shoes inside, we need to stay in the dining room and please, if you use the bathroom, put the toilet seat down.”

She didn’t invite people over for a reason, but she dropped the desire to have friends over when her home began to break more. Y/N could barely remember a time when she fell asleep to anything but the sound of expletives, breaking glass or pure aggression.

Instead of questioning the barrage of instruction as she would expect, Calum simply fixed her with a warm smile, “Your wish is my command.”

She had long wished for her parents to go their separate ways strictly to save her from the fear that enveloped her the minute she stepped foot inside, however, she knew it fruitful because she couldn’t go anywhere but with one of them, and even when apart, they were harmful.

Calum followed her rigid form into the house, kicking his shoes off and placing them on the designated racking as instructed. The house was in pristine condition. It was as if there were no life in the environment unless a human was present - it felt cold.

The house was so different from his own. His mother had made sure to hang photos of both him and his sister, pictures from family outings, vacations. His father bought his mother flowers regularly and they always sat on the kitchen counter. His sister even had her own little belongings in the family areas as did he. Y/N’s house had nothing. There was not even a picture of her with her parents. The house was near void of any sort of familial comfort that it made him feel uncomfortable.

He followed her into the dining room, waiting for instruction. The atmosphere put him incredibly on edge and he could feel that there were many rules to be followed to perfection in the house.

Y/N pulled her bag open, placing her books on the table before stashing the bag into a designated nook in the entry way. The table caught his eye. Only two chairs. Both her parents lived with her, but there were only two chairs.

She returned, taking a seat at the small round table. Her eyes darted nervously to a clock mounted on the wall before softening and focusing on Calum’s standing form.

“Take a seat?” She offered. “We have just over an hour and a half until my parents get home.”

He nodded, slumping down in the seat and retrieving his own items for their project.

The time flew by quickly, it seemed. Calum’s presence was warm and he shone like a beacon in the barren home. She could barely take her eyes off of him for fear that he too would burn out like all who have entered before him.

If she could, she would have captured the moment in its entirety, preserving it for the lypophrenic moments that visit her almost nightly.

She was in the process of laughing at a joke that slipped from Calum’s lips when her eyes absentmindedly crossed over to the wall clock.

It was 3 minutes past 5.

Calum needed to leave. Fast.

She was on her feet, face paleing and her hands working to slam the books in front of her closed. She needed Calum gone and she needed to be in her room before either of them got home.

Calum raised an eyebrow at her, following her movements with caution. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“You need to go,” she was breathless despite the meager activity. It wasn’t the actions that made her breath escape, it was fear. She knew what would happen if either of her parents arrived home. She knew what would happen if they saw she was in the dining room, or if she had company. Nevermind if that company was a male.

“Oh, sorry,” he smiled softly, helping her clean. “The time sorta slipped away from us. It’s only a few past 5, I’m sure your parents will understand-“

He was cut off as she shoved his books against his chest, “they can’t know that you were ever here.” She felt horrible for rushing him out; almost as horrible as she felt for her lack of hospitality, but she needed him to go. She couldn’t bear the consequences.

She handed him his shoes, opening the front door and pushing him out. His expression was full of confusion and for an instance she thought she saw hurt flash in his whiskey coloured eyes but her state of anxiety was growing and she couldn’t bring herself to react.

“Sorry about going overtime. I’ll see you-“ the door slammed in his face, footsteps hurrying away from the wooden barrier almost exactly after, “- tomorrow?” He finished dejectedly, slipping his shoes on and starting down the path to his house.

He lived in close proximity to Y/N, but the walk did little to quell the hurt in his chest.

Y/N rushed around as soon as the door was closed. She needed to clean everything up in the dining room before one of them got home, but her efforts were fruitless.

A few minutes after she rudely shoved Calum away, she heard an engine die in the front yard. The door opened carefully and closed very soon after. The sound of heels on the floorboards alerted her to the fact that her mother was home. She was in perfect view, still trying to clean away any evidence that she inhabited the dining room.

“What the hell have you done to my house?” Her mother hissed, the sound of keys being thrown onto the hall table bouncing off of the walls, setting the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck on edge.

Y/N felt her shoulders flinch, acting on their own accord. “I’m sorry, mum. I just felt like studying down here today-“

Her mother was next to her within seconds, cold eyes scanning over every item in the room. “This is a pig sty!” She growled, despite the only objects out of the ordinary being y/N’s textbook, a single pen and a bottle of water. “I go to work, busting my ass to pay for things you need and this is the thanks I get?”

The laughter that fell from the older woman gave Y/N goosebumps. Both of her parents were vindictive and nasty, but her mother was the worse of the two. Quick with her hands, nastier with her words. She has once thrown a plate at Y/N because she dared to ask to add salt to her dinner.

Her father, on the other hand, was a drunk who would prefer to scream insults at his daughter and wife for anything. Despite this, y/n had less fear of the patriarch.

Y/N stayed quiet, too frightened to say anything or to even move to finish cleaning. Her mother didn’t like that and wound her hand in Y/N’s hair, gazing down at her with malice as she yanked her head back violently.

“You ungrateful little brat!” She growled. “You were the worst thing to happen to me, yet I still feed you, and clothe you and keep you here while you sick the life from me like the parasite you are, and this is how you repay me?”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes as she struggled against her mother’s hand, “Mum, mum please,” she pleaded. “You’re hurting me.”

“You hurt me every day that you’re still here, it’s the least I can do to repay the favour.”

Y/N grabbed her mother’s hand, attempting to pry it away from her hair, but in the process, her nail scratched her mother’s hand.

Y/N didn’t realise until she was knocked to the ground after a force connected with her cheek. Her head connected with the floor boards, blood quickly spilling from her brow and her lip and cheek throbbing.

“Don’t you ever touch me again, you little bitch!” Her mother screamed in her face, cradling her barely wounded hand like she would a baby.

Y/N struggled on the floor, slowly trying to climb to her feet despite the ache spreading through the left side of her face. She shuffled back, hoping to get closer to the hall so she could get up to her room. Her mother had other plans.

The sound of the cupboard door opening was evident and Y/N barely pushed her disheveled hair from her eyes to see a glass hurtling towards her, connecting with the wall next to her.

The sound was near ear-piercing, a few glasses catching her arms and shredding the skin in various places. Crash after crash - she finally ran out of glasses, starting to move to the next cupboard.

Y/N took the opportunity to get to her feet and run. Her feet carried her to the door, and she was thankful that she always kept we car keys on her person for fear of moments like this.

Her mother called out expletives behind her, but she didn’t bother to turn, instead allowing her body to act on its own volition, climbing into her car and pulling out of the drive as fast as she could.

Her vision was blurring, tears staining the clarity of her sight. Her hands were shaking so ferociously that she could feel the muscles in her shoulders twitching. Her mind was anywhere but the road, but it felt like she moved between destinations so fast, barely paying mind to the road in front of her until she pulled up at a park in the next suburb.

Her fingers worked on the screen of her phone, acting of their own volition until a voice was sounding through the speaker into Y/N’s ear.

“Y/N?” The voice asked, confused, anxious even.

“I’m at the park, on Macquarie Street. I need help.”

To anybody outside, Y/N would have been a terrifying sight. Blood pouring down her face, starting at her brow, a bruise forming quickly on her left cheek, a slight swell misshaping her lip and cuts all over her arm with their own trails of blood.

For Calum, his heart near stopped when he saw her sat on a park bench with her knees pulled to her chest. The sight was a beat more than terrifying. There were no more tears in her eyes, but her cheeks were wet with recent drops. She was staring out into the green landscape as if she no longer inhabited her body. The sun was starting to set behind her.

It took all of his willpower not to rush towards her, simply so he didn’t spook her. She was as rigid as a scared animal, any sudden sounds causing her to flinch.

“Y/N?” He tried softly, stepping cautiously. Her bleary eyes shifted towards him slowly, looking down at his feet before settling into his eyes. Her face shifted into a small smile as she locked onto the warm brown. “What happened?”

With his words, the semblance of a smile dropped. She frowned deeply, a dimple forming softly on her chin before a sob ripped through her chest. Her breathing heaved her body, rocking aggressively as she poured the emotion onto her knees once again. He walked to her faster, resting a hand on her knee and the other on her head.

“Y/N?” She shook his hands off, flinching away from his touch. “Y/N, baby? What happened? Please talk to me about it.”

She gasped, knees unfurling from her near iron grip. She knew the feeling well, it being her third panic attack since she left her home - not her home - the place she used to live. She couldn’t go back there.

Calum knew the signs. He had helped Michael through many attacks before and he acted beyond thought as he sunk to his knees before her, kneeling between her opened legs. His fingers moved to the side of her face gently, as to not cause her any more fear.

The tears had halted again, but she could barely catch her breath. He pulled her head down into his chest, thankful that with his added height against the small park bench, it was not so much of an awkward angle for the frightened girl.

It took all of 2 minutes for her breathing to balance. It was a trick he learned long ago - sometimes physical contact could help Michael with his attacks, and it had proven to be helpful to Y/N.

The silence that followed was pregnant as she rested her head against him. Her fingers had clasped so tightly in his hoodie that he could barely move until she loosened her grip. Slowly, she began to peel her body away from him.

“I- I’m sorry. There’s blood everywhere. I’ll let you go,” she sniffed, her voice airy as she tried to relax her muscles.

“N-no, Y/N,” he stood slowly, choosing to sit next to her instead of on the ground in front of her. “It’s alright, come here. Only if you want to.” He held his arm out, allowing her to make her decision. Slowly, and cautiously, she moved towards him, seeking the comfort of his soft hoodie and his warmth. She let out a shaky breath as she settled in to him. He shushed her softly, moving his arm to loop around her back slowly. “It’s alright, you’re safe, darling. I won’t let you go.”

She mumbled a soft “thank you,” wrapping her arms around his waist delicately. Her forehead nestled into his collarbone, allowing the lower portion of her face to be angled so she could resume her breath maintenance.

“Who did this to you, daring?” His voice was soft, his eyes anywhere but the girl below him. The mere sight of her eliciting a burning rage within his chest. Y/N was so pure, so happy. So kind. The thought that anybody would dare to hurt her - to him, it was blasphemy. “What happened after I left?”

“It was my mum,” her words were incredibly faint, yet Calum’s attentive ears heard every syllable. He tightened his arm around her slightly. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”

He moved his hands to her shoulders, pulling her off of his chest so that he could survey her face. His fingers were calloused from the strings of his bass, but he made sure to keep his touch featherlight as he ran his finger along her wounded cheek.

It was no, that he finally realized the small scars decorating her eyebrow, her jawline, and even her neck.

“She hurts you?” The thought was unbearable, how could a mother hurt their child in such a way. Y/N was in bad shape, and to know that it was somebody who should love and protect her that did so - he was shaking from fury. “What about your father? Does he-“

“Dads always too drunk to care. He spends his time sucking down beers and verbally abusing us rather than paying attention to the constant crap I get from my mum,” her scoff was full of malice. On the outside, Y/F/N had it all but in reality, her world was a steaming dumpster fire and she spent her time yearning for love. “My parents never wanted me and they have made it obvious. This,” she gestured to her face with a sliced up arm, wincing slightly at the shift of her flesh. “Is because I had stuff in the dining room. Mother prefers I keep my life confined to my bedroom where she can pretend I don’t exist.”

Guilt washed over Calum’s face, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have pushed to go to your house.”

“It’s fine, Cal. There was bound to be an issue tonight anyways, it’s just our routine,” she sent him a small smile, eyes full of apology and sadness. “Thank you, for coming to my rescue.”

He let his thumb run across her cheekbone, relishing in the feeling of her skin underneath his palm. “Whenever you call, I’ll be there for you Y/N.” There was nothing in his actions to suggest anything but sincerity, specifically in the way his eyes lingered on hers for a second longer than normal. “You can’t go back there, darling.”

Her head hung slightly. She had nowhere to go but there. Of all of her friends, not one of them would take her in and her closest family was out of state. She had no options.

“That’s the only place I have,” she smiled at him, a miserable smile, but a reassuring one. “I’ll be okay.”

“Come to my house,” he offered, eyebrows raising slightly, a pleading pout on his lips.

“Cal, I can’t impose-“

“You’re never imposing, Y/N.” His brows furrowed. “I’ll always keep you safe, I promise.”

A sigh left her chest, her breathing smoothing and functioning correctly on its own accord, before she nodded. Fighting against Calum was a losing battle, but she wasn’t entirely against the idea. There was something drawing her in to him. Something that she couldn’t identify. Whether it be the damsel-in-distress complex that she had adopted that night, or the butterflies that erupted in her belly when he held her close, she wanted to go with him. She wanted to be safe in his arms.

So she nodded, smiling small up at him, her fingers reaching up to hold his own that were still resting on her scarred face.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, a delicate gesture full of comfort and with an inkling of the love that she so desired. “I’ll always protect you, darling.”

Tag list: @starshonerose @mantlereid @killerqueenishere @snookiebrookie @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @another-lonely-heart

[svnflowervol666]

Hiii I just read all your writings and I LOVED THEM 💖💖 So can you write a lil blurb where it's Y/N's birthday and he does some cute shit for her

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: tiny mention of smut (at the end)

Author’s Note: I absolutely ADORED writing this one. Thank you so much! Requests are open, so drop an idea into my inbox if you’ve got one! Take care and tpwk.

Just as she was finishing up her makeup in the bathroom before work, an unflattering photo of her longtime boyfriend wearing a bright green face mask illuminated her phone screen, signifying that he was trying to facetime with her. The photo always made her laugh no matter how hard her day had been, so she’d set it as his contact photo.

“Hello my beautiful boy,” Y/N sang when the call adjusted and she could finally see Harry’s face smiling at her from ear to ear.

“And hello to you too, my beautiful birthday girl!” Harry exclaimed right back.

Much to his protest, Harry had ended up smack dab in the middle of a North American tour on his girlfriend’s birthday. He’d tried his hardest to schedule a break in between today so he would be able to spend some time with her on her special day, but it didn’t end up working out and both Harry and Y/N were fairly bummed about it. 

“Thank you, love,” she grinned into the camera, making Harry’s heart soar. 

“Ye’ getting ready f’ work?”

“Unfortunately,” Y/N faked a pout,��“Should be an easy day, though. What about you?”

“Just got back to m’ hotel room. Show tonight was great. I wish you could’ve gotten off work to hop on tour for a few days.”

“You know how my boss is,” Y/N sounded somewhat sad and it made Harry’s chest feel tight knowing how badly she had wanted to come visit him.

“Hmm,” Harry pondered, “’M starting t’ think she’s got a crush on me n’ that’s why she never gives you any days off.”

This made a laugh blossom from deep in Y/N’s belly.

“Everyone’s got a crush on you, bubby.”

“Too bad I’ve only got eyes f’ you. Anyways,” Harry quickly moved on to the next subject.

“I’ve called you to tell you where I’ve hidden your birthday present.”

“Harry,” Y/N scolded him, “I told you not to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well, ye’ know I wasn’t gonna listen. Love spoilin’ ya. It’s in the back of my underwear drawer. Should be a little velvet box.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry to which he blew her a cheeky kiss through the screen in response. She grabbed her phone while she traveled from the bathroom into their bedroom and began riffling through Harry’s intimates drawer. 

“Quick question, H. Why your underwear drawer?”

All Harry could see of Y/N was her forehead while her fingers moved past his folded up boxers and dug for the small gift.

“It’s the only thing of mine you don’t steal. Figured it’d be least likely t’ be found if I kept it in there when I left.”

“Touche, my love. Alright, I’ve got it. Want me to open it now?”

“It would kinda make sense to, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re such a smartass.”

“You love me anyway.”

She chuckled as she propped her cell phone up against her bedside lamp so Harry could see her reaction when she found out what was inside. When she removed the small metallic bow that was placed on top, she lifted the lid and her expression turned into one of confusion and uncertainty.

“Is this the ring that you lost a few months ago?”

Indeed, it was. It was Y/N’s favorite out of the hefty collection of rings that Harry hoarded. Sometimes, Harry would let her pick out which rings he wore and her eyes always landed on that one. She was never able to give him a reason other than she was simply drawn to it; the way it danced in the sunlight when his hand stuck out from the covers in the morning, the way it accentuated his perfect, long fingers. 

Or perhaps, there was a reason why she loved it so much. This ring in particular was one that Harry had purchased from a local jewler when they were on a holiday in Greece. That very same night, Harry had gotten wine-drunk (more like wine-wasted) and had confessed a secret to her. 

“You know something, Y/n?” he drunkenly babbled whilst wagged his finger adorned with his new ring in her face, “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

She’d never bring the memory back up to Harry, however she was never able to forget that night or his ring waving itself right in front of his face. It was just another one of those moments where she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harry was the one for her. Knowing this, one could have seen why Y/N had gotten rather upset when Harry had revealed to her that he had “misplaced it” and had no earthly idea where it had gone. Unbeknownst to her, Harry hadn’t actually lost it at all.

“It is. I didn’t actually lose it. I know ye’ love it, so I had it sized down to fit your finger. Do ye’ like it?”

“I love it. Thank you, Harry.”

Y/N felt her eyes instinctively well up with tears. She hadn’t told Harry, but she always had a hard time whenever he was gone for prolonged periods of time. The bed was always cold, her meals didn’t taste as good, and there was no one there to hold her when her day went less than ideal. Knowing how much thought went into a gift like this only widened the hole in her heart that appeared every time Harry left for tour.

“Aww, don’t cry, lovie. Not on your birthday.”

Y/N gently wiped the corners of her eyes and shook her head, “I’m good. Promise. Just miss you a lot is all.”

“Miss you too, baby. I wish I wasn’t so far away from ye’.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, right? I’ll survive,” Y/N stood up from where she was sat on the bed and straightened out her blouse before picking the phone up from the nightstand, “Guess I should probably head out now.”

“Alright,” Harry reassured her with a wrinkle in his brow. 

He absolutely hated knowing that his girl was upset. Not only because it was her birthday, a day that was all about celebrating her, but because he was on another continent and couldn’t be there to soothe her.

“I’ll call you again tonight. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Have a good day, Y/N,” Harry said sincerely.

“I’ll try.”

They exchanged one last loving look before Y/N ended the call and left the house she shared with Harry to go to work.

Her day wasn’t half as bad as she’d envisioned it to be. Upon arrival, her coworkers greeted her with her favorite coffee and donuts accompanied by a plethora of multi-colored balloons tossed about the office space. Everyone was extra nice to her and offered to take on some of her paperwork for her, which she certainly didn’t mind. Around lunchtime, she received a massive delivery of canary yellow sunflowers from the one and only, Harry Styles. Attached to the bouquet was a simple note card that read, For my sunflower on her special day. -H. This earned her a series of hoots and hollers from the other employees at the office (and she almost swears a scolding look from her boss), which she promptly brushed off and continued on working.

On the long drive home, she’d chatted with her small, close group of friends about the outing they had planned for her that weekend. It was mostly about the bars they had planned on going to and about how wasted they knew they were going to be, but even the playful banter in between them couldn’t manage to pull Y/N out of the funk she was in. Sure, she could put on a happy face and act like she enjoyed the attention she was receiving for her birthday, but none of it really meant much when the one person she cared about most wasn’t there to celebrate with her.

When she opened the front door she was hit by the overwhelming scent of aromatics coming from her kitchen. She hadn’t cooked anything this smelly in at least a few days and she certainly didn’t recall smelling it on her way out the door this morning, so her senses were on high alert. Her finger hovered over the emergency button on her cell phone as she rounded the corner, only to be greeted by a tall, curly-headed man-child boiling pasta in his periwinkle-colored bathrobe.

“Harry?!”

“Fuck,” he cursed aloud, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early. I thought I’d have it all done before you got here.”

Typical Harry. The boy’s got big ideas, but his ability to pull them off seldom comes to fruition.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come kiss me, stupid.”

Harry took a few long strides over to his girlfriend and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug and kiss, one that left her breathless and feeling full of love. His lips worked passionately against her own and the tip of his tongue prodded at her bottom lip, just the way that he knew she liked. When he pulled back from holding her mouth against his, he saw that she was really crying this time, unable to stop the flow of salty tears from running down her cheekbones and down her chin.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked Harry as he wiped her tears with the pads of this thumb. “I thought you had a show tonight.”

“You see, Y/N. Time zones can be a beautiful thing. I found out I could make it here with a few hours t’ spare before my next show, so I hopped on a plane right after I got off the phone w’ you.”

“You didn’t have to do this, Harry.”

“But I wanted to. Hated seeing you upset this mornin’.”

He noticed she was twiddling the ring he’d gifted her this morning around her finger, to which he raised her hand and inspected it with his own eyes instead of through his phone screen.

“Looks good on you, dunnit?”

Y/N nodded her head, still unable to comprehend that her boyfriend had flown across the globe to see her on her birthday. There weren’t many people on this earth like Harry, and she had never felt happier to know that she had the privilege of being loved by one.

“I love it, H. I really do. Thank you. For all of this.”

She moved her hand away from Harry’s face to kiss his lips once more.

“How long are you staying?” she continued.

Harry sighed, “’ve got to leave at 2am to make it to the show on time.”

“That’s alright. Any time is better than no time.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with his love, “So why don’t ye’ go upstairs and change while I finish cookin’ so we can make the most of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” she pulled him in for a third kiss before reluctantly leaving Harry’s side to take off her uncomfortable work clothes.

Just as she ascended the steps that led to their bedroom, she heard Harry call out.

“Actually, don’t bother! It’s not like you’ll have your clothes on for very long anyway!”

[duchessofostergotlands]

I think the main thing is the reason why she's declaring it a photo that was shared without her consent is because it is not photoshopped to her liking. The unauthorised photos don't match her insta snaps. She shared a post with her fans about how she was proud of her imperfections and stretch marks and now this leak is proof that she's a liar. Nobody asked her to promote body positivity, she chose to do so knowing she was lying. I think the celebration also attributes to the fact that people know she more than likely has some form of body and face dysmorphia and are encouraging her to embrace her real self because she's actually beautiful. People are alarmed by the fact that she looks great but she thinks she looks ugly. Ugly enough to take legal action. And they just can't understand why she's overreacting to something that doesn't even look bad.

I mean...this is garbage lol. 

1) Even if that was the reason, so? You’re saying that if a reason for not wanting a photo to be shared doesn’t meet your personal standards then you can ignore someone’s wishes? This is exactly the same argument used by people who share naked photographs of women without their consent. You think she’s the first person in human history to ever say to someone “delete that photo, I hate it”? 

2) No it doesn’t necessarily prove she’s a liar, it proves she’s got a complicated relationship with how she looks and is a human on social media where literally everyone sugarcoats the truth to please others - including you, I’d bet. If you asked me how I feel about my body today I might say a completely different answer from what I’d say tomorrow. If you asked me about one part of my body I’d say I love it and if you asked me about another I would say I hate it. You seem to follow the Jameela Jamil school of body positivity where if any woman ever dares to express that she doesn’t feel confident about her body every minute of the day they’re immediately the devil incarnate. It’s extremely unhealthy to force women to express their feelings about their bodies in a narrow way to please you. And it’s massively disingenuous to suggest no one had been demanding that kind of content from her. You yourself demand she feels a certain way about her body in this message!

3) Don’t ever diagnose someone with serious mental illnesses in my inbox. Especially not when you’re then going to say that people should be allowed to celebrate her consent being violated because she’s mentally ill and that it’s justifiable to celebrate deliberately worsening someone’s mental illness. 

4) You don’t get to decide how she thinks she looks in that photograph. It’s not “body dysmorphia” to think you don’t look great in a picture that other people think is nice. You don’t have to think it’s ugly. You don’t have to think it makes sense that she wants to take it down. It’s not your photo, it’s not your body.

The only legitimate reason I can see for actively celebrating this is that she has built a brand on trying to convince people you can get her body if you buy certain products when that is not true, and the level of deceit from influencers on social media is increasingly concerning. The reasons you’ve outlined are just plain old misogyny, attacking her for feeling too happy with her body and attacking her for not feeling happy enough about it. There absolutely needs to be more monitoring of what major influencers post online but your argument is awful

[floralelu]

Le Fleuriste Episode IV:

WARNINGS: NONE :))

Summary: Lucas hangs out with Eliott despite him trying to suppress his feelings, but will his feelings actually be reciprocated?

Word Count: 3,570

[A/N]: Hello!! We are so excited for you to read this chapter!! We just wanted to say that we would love to hear from you so send us questions or comments!! We will be checking our inbox and responding!!

———————————————————————

Lucas woke up the next morning with the sun in his eyes. He knew it was late morning because of the lack of noise in the apartment. All of the guys must’ve gone to work already, but Lucas didn’t mind. It meant he had the morning to himself.

Lucas checked his phone and was greeted with an Instagram notification.

1 Message from plantjunkieeli

Lucas welcomed the surprise message from Eliott. Even though Lucas knew deep down that this boy was probably straight and had other girls in his DM’s, it still thrilled him the fact that Eliott would text him.

plantjunkieeli: hey, lu <3 i’m sorry for what happened last night. i have a surprise for you tonight in paris, i’ll pick you up at 19:00 pm. can’t wait to see you :)

Lucas clutched his phone to his chest. His heart ached for this boy, but he had to realize that with heartache came heartbreak and he was scared to experience the feeling, especially for the first time.

But that didn’t matter. He was hanging out with his friend, Eliott. His friend. That’s it.

lucallemant: sounds good and me too <3

Lucas glanced at the time at the top of his screen. It was already 14:43 am. He only had a little over 4 hours to prepare for his “date”. Lucas slowly got up, still sluggish from the night before, and went out to the balcony.

It was a clear day, the sky was bright blue and people were scattered among the cobblestone streets before him. Lucas enjoyed it when the sun was out like this, he loved feeling the sun’s warmth on his skin.

Lucas wondered what Eliott would surprise him with. In a perfect world, Lucas would be greeted with a bouquet of flowers, it didn’t matter what kind as long as Eliott picked them out. Then Eliott would ask him the words. Will you be my boyfriend?

But Lucas knew that was too much to ask, if only he lived in a fantasy. Lucas knew his expectations couldn’t and would never be met.

Lucas soon left the balcony and went to Yann’s room. Yann and Lucas shared a closet since Yann already had a room to himself and had the space to accommodate Lucas’s wardrobe, which was larger than you might think.

Lucas went to the closet and opened it, he looked at the selections of clothes in front of him. Lucas wanted to wear something nice for Eliott, even though he knew he had no choice with him, he still wanted to look decent for him.

The only thing was that Lucas didn’t have many nice clothes. He had a couple of decent pairs of jeans and a few nicer shirts that he could wear, but the rest of his nice clothes were either too small for him or he sold it so he could have some extra cash on hand. Lucas finally settled on a pair of black jeans and a grey hoodie that had “ROMANCE” written across the chest. Lucas might as well wear his greatest wish across his body for Eliott, maybe he would take the hint then.

Lucas took a shower, washing the night before off of his body. It felt like all of Lucas’s thoughts from the previous night were washing down the drain. When he got out of the shower he felt renewed. He was excited to see Eliott.

Lucas slipped the hoodie over his head and felt something in the front pocket. He reached his hand in and was greeted with a picture. He took the picture out of his pocket and studied it.

Lucas could barely recognize what he was looking at. It was Lucas and his once manageable family. Lucas was a baby in the photo, he was seated in a highchair with a cake on the plastic tray in front of him. The cake was shaped into number 1 and was covered in bright blue frosting. His mom was on the right side of the photo next to Lucas, kissing his cheek. His dad was on the left next to Lucas, he was holding bunny ears behind Lucas’s head.

Lucas remembered grabbing this picture off of the pinboard on the wall above his desk as he was packing all of his things from his old room. He remembered his mom trying to talk him out of leaving. He had already been crashing at the gang’s place for a few days before he returned to his home and gathering his things in order to move in with them permanently

———————————————————————

“Lucas, you don’t have to do this. We’ll make it through this,” Lucas’s mom pleaded. “Please, Lu. You’re not ready to move out.”

“Mom, I am. You know I am. I’ve been ready since you and dad started fighting. I need to be away from it.”

“But what about me, huh?” His mother raised his voice at him. “Imagine what I’m going through! Dealing with my husband leaving and now my son.”

Lucas turned around and placed his hands on his mother’s shoulders.

“Mom, I promise to come to visit and call you as much as I can. But you have to keep in mind that I can’t be here. It’s not good for my mind.”

His mother nodded and hugged him tightly.

Lucas went back to the closet, picture in hand and reached up on the top shelf for his duffle bag. The duffle bag was filled with personal things to Lucas such as books, sheets of music he liked playing on the piano, and other things like his laptop and his chargers. Lucas placed the photo deep at the bottom of the bag, hoping to never see it again.

———————————————————————

“Lucas! You have a date?!” Basile shouted.

“This is great news! I’m tired of seeing you mope around all the time, Lu. Maybe this boy can bring some happiness into your life,” Arthur pointed out.

“It’s not a date. Just two friends hanging out,” Lucas commented.

“Yeah, sure. Friends,” Yann stated, making air quotes.

“With the way that boy flirts, I won’t be surprised if Lucas comes home with a boyfriend tonight,” Arthur remarked.

Eliott would be here any time now. Lucas was terribly nervous. He was terrified of the possibilities of what the night would bring. Could he get back his friend-zoned image and catch Eliott’s eye?

Lucas had his Instagram open, awaiting Eliott’s message of arrival.

plantjunkielei: i’m here :)

“I gotta go,” Lucas said as he placed his phone in his back pocket. “Wish me luck.”

“I bet he won’t be a virgin by the end of the night,” Yann mumbled to Basile and Arthur.

Lucas rolled his eyes and laughed.

Lucas headed down the stairs of the apartment building and headed towards the street. He was met with a truck that had the front of an old Volkswagen bus and had what seemed like a place for storage in the back. It was quite cute, it was the most Eliott vehicle Lucas had ever seen.

Eliott rolled down the window and Lucas’ gaze met Eliott’s eyes.

“You coming?” Eliott asked, flashing his brilliant smile that made Lucas melt.

Lucas nodded his head and hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle.

“For you, good sir,” Eliott laughed and handed Lucas a small bouquet of white daisies. Eliott plucked one of the flowers out of the bouquet. Lucas’ skin sparked at the contact of Eliott’s hand grazing his cheek and his temple as he placed the flower in his hair. “You look absolutely precious,” Eliott said, admiring his handiwork.

Lucas blushed hard and turned away from Eliott until he calmed down.

“So is this the flower that I remind you of?” Lucas asked as they headed down the street.

“I’m not sure yet. I’m testing out some different options,” Eliott said, glancing at Lucas multiple times while he drove on the road. “I still need to need to weigh my options, see what best fits you.” Lucas smiled.

“So where are you taking me in Paris?” Lucas asked as they headed out of Annecy.

“I can’t spoil the surprise,” Eliott remarked. “Besides, what’s the fun in ruining surprises?”

Lucas played with the bouquet of flowers in his lap, playing with their pedals and their leaves. He found that it calmed his nerves.

“Don’t you think I should have a right to know where we’re going?” Lucas asked. “You could still be a murderer, it’s especially suspicious how far away you’re taking me.”

“Oh come on!” Eliott exclaimed. “You still think I’m a murderer?”

“Not exactly,” Lucas said.

“Well, what do you think of me, Lucas?”

“Beautiful, I think you're beautiful,” Lucas wanted to say.

“I think you’re talented. People like you are hard to come by. You run your own flower shop and you’re so young. I could never do that,” Lucas told Eliott. “You impress me.”

Lucas met Eliott’s eyes, only a quick glance before Eliott turned back to the road, but Eliott’s eyes sparkled. Lucas turned away before he could blush any harder.

“And I think you’re beautiful,” Lucas whispered.

“What?” Eliott said.

“Nothing,” Lucas turned back to him. “What do you think of me?”

“I think you’re someone who doesn’t let people in easily. You’re a very reserved and quiet person. You have a lot of underlying issues that you keep hidden,” Eliott continued. “I want to be let in, Lucas.”

Wow. He was reading Lucas like a book. It was true, Lucas didn’t let people in very easily. The gang was a group of people he had grown up with, there were no barriers there, but with others, it was harder. Most of his friends were girls, which Lucas realized he could trust women easier than men. Most of Lucas’ friends knew his dad had left, but they didn’t know why. No one knew the full story because it was too hard to tell and Lucas didn’t want to see the other person’s reaction. Lucas knew he didn’t trust men as easy because of his dad and what he grew up with.

Lucas didn’t understand why Eliott wanted in. Who would want to befriend a guy with abandonment and daddy issues? Could Eliott handle hearing about Lucas’ past?

“I’d like to know more about you first, Eliott,” Lucas said. “I need to know if I can let you in.” Eliott smiled.

“Alright, then. My name is Eliott Demaury. I’m 26 years old. I was born in Paris, France.” Eliott said. “That enough?”

Lucas shook his head.

“Dig deep, tell me something no one else really knows about.”

Eliott sighed.

“Well, I just started back working at Barney’s this year. I used to work there all the time growing up, it was my home. I would burn through gas money just trying to go visit and work there every weekend,” Eliott told Lucas. “I loved seeing visitors come in and their faces light up with smiles just because of some fucking flowers. I mean, who doesn’t love flowers?” Eliott laughed.

“My grandpa and I ran that shop, it was something we were both passionate about,” Eliott said, his eyes lit up talking about it. “I went to my grandpa about everything, girl troubles, family issues, drama with my friends, he was there for everything, Lu. He was one of the only people who listened to me. Then, he got sick. My mom made us move to Annecy so that we could take care of him in his final days.” Eliott was tearing up at the thought. “I couldn’t bear it, seeing him in the hospital bed. I held his hand till his final breath and then I got angry. I was yelling and cursing, nurses eventually pulled me out of the room and calmed me down.

“At his funeral, I didn’t cry. I was tired of crying. I moved back to Paris because I couldn’t bear being in Annecy anymore. I didn’t go to the shop for years after he died, not until this spring. Luckily, Mrs. Lawerence hired my friend Idriss to manage the shop until I felt well enough to return.” Eliott continued. “It’s still hard sometimes, grieving him. But I’m getting better and that’s what matters.”

Lucas nodded. He was shocked to hear such a sad past come from the mouth of this boy who is upbeat. He didn’t know what to think.

He turned to Eliott as Eliott wiped the tears from his eyes. Lucas smiled at him.

“But you made it through it,” Lucas said. “I’m proud of you for that.”

The rest of the drive was filled with jokes and laughter. Even though it was a bit of a drive, Lucas felt like it went by quickly with Eliott. Lucas loved how easy going it was to talk to Eliott and to be around him. He enjoyed his company and Lucas prayed Eliott enjoyed his.

———————————————————————

Paris was a place Lucas had only been a few times, mostly for holidays or weddings. He never got to understand the love and the romance behind the city. He was someone who had been surrounded by the mountains his whole life. To be honest, Lucas was excited for someone to take him back to Paris again. Lucas hoped Eliott had some late-night sightseeing in store.

They pulled into the parking lot of Jardin des Plantes. Lucas had never been to the gardens before in Paris. Lucas hopped out of the car, following Eliott who had a picnic basket and a blanket tucked in his arms. Lucas was excited until he realized that the gardens would be closed.

“Eliott, why are we here? It’s definitely closed.”

Eliott smiled and flashed a set of keys.

“You have keys to this?” Lucas gestured to the massive gates in front of them. “May I ask how you obtained these keys, murderer?”

Eliott laughed.

“Yes, I just killed one of the bodyguards and stole these keys from his dead body.” Lucas rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, I used to work here when I moved back to Paris after my grandpa died, and when I decided to quit, I may not have returned my set of keys.”

“Eliott!” Lucas shouted. “We could get caught!”

“Shush,” Eliott whispered. “If we keep quiet we’ll be fine.”

Eliott unlocked the gate and let Lucas in first before following him in. Lucas started to relax when he saw that no one was around. Maybe they won’t get caught after all. Eliott locked the gate behind him.

The moon was full and bright enough that it illuminated the ground below them. Eliott led him to a courtyard that had a stone pathway that was outlined with flowers. The courtyard was at the base of a hill, and at the top of the hill was a large grand building that looked like it could be built for French royalty.

As Lucas admired the scenery around him, Eliott was spreading out the blanket and placed the picnic basket on the ground. He opened the basket and fished out a few candles and a box of matches. He lit the candles one by one and placed them around the blanket, illuminating the beautiful spread. Eliott had packed sandwiches, crackers, different kinds of cheeses and fruit. Lucas’ mouth watered at the sight. Finally, Eliott pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“What’s that building on the hill?” Lucas asked.

“That’s the Gallery of Evolution. Beautiful, right? It was designed by Louis-Jules André in 1889.” Eliott said, admiring the building with Lucas.

Lucas nodded and turned back to the spread before him.

“Eliott, this looks amazing. Did you make all of this?” Lucas asked.

“Are you kidding?” Eliott laughed. “Mrs. Lawerence made it, she’s good with details like these. After all, I wanted this night to be perfect.”

Lucas smiled and butterflies rose and fluttered in his stomach. He wished he could kiss Eliott now. He wanted to kiss him for eternity.

Eliott popped and poured the champagne into the glasses. They clinked glasses and sipped the champagne.

“Now,” Eliott started, pulling out a joint and lighting it. “Will you let me in?”

Lucas avoided Eliott’s eyes. Lucas didn’t know if he could do it, tell him his sob story of a past. What if Eliott didn’t want someone like Lucas in his life? It seemed like Eliott already had too much on his plate, with his grandfather’s death and taking over the shop again. Lucas sighed and began.

“My dad left my mom and me about a year ago. He would constantly abuse and yell at my mother and me. My mom was always having to hide bruises from her co-workers and family. My mom is schizophrenic, and my dad couldn’t deal with it anymore.” Lucas took another sip of champagne. “I couldn’t deal with it either. That night, I ran away to my friends’ apartment. They took me in with no questions asked and I’m really grateful for that, but sometimes I feel like a burden to them. When I arrived there, all I did was sleep, I couldn’t handle being awake. My mom kept calling me for the few days I was there and I wouldn’t pick up.” Lucas was beginning to cry.

“When I went back home to get my things, my mom begged me to stay with her. I couldn’t do it. I needed to get out, I was too old to live in my mom’s house anyway, you know? We eventually figured things out, I told her I would call her and visit her and I have been. It’s getting better.” Lucas said as a tear fell down his cheek. “But I miss those happier memories with my father. I miss when he was a good dad and didn’t abuse my mom or me. I have fucking abandonment issues and I’m so fucked up because of him.”

“Oh, Lu,” Eliott said as he pulled Lucas in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, you never deserved anything like that.”

Eliott pulled away and placed his hands on Lucas’ cheeks and started into his eyes. Lucas could feel his skin ignite under Eliott’s palms. Eliott took his thumbs and brushed them across Lucas’ cheeks, wiping the tears away.

Lucas calmed down as they dined on the sandwiches and other goods. They chatted a bit here and there but they mostly looked at each other, long glances being shared between them.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Eliott said, standing up and offering his hand to Lucas. Lucas nodded and grabbed Eliott’s hand.

Eliott guided Lucas further down a path that branched from the courtyard. It led to a large building made of glass that almost looked like a bubble. Eliott pulled out his set of keys again and unlocked the door.

Lucas was welcomed by a variety of tropical plants and trees, creating a jungle landscape. Lucas could even hear a waterfall running in the background. Little ponds of water covered in lily pads surrounded the path that leads throughout the building, eventually circling out to the entrance again. One of the glass panes was open, displaying the moon brightly in the sky and casting an enchanting glow on the water and the beautiful plants around them. Eliott took Lucas’ hand and led them around the path, even though it was dark, it was obvious Eliott had been here many times. Eliott led them to a spot where the trees and plants weren’t as dense and you could see one of the ponds of water clearly, you could even spot some of the koi fish circling the pond. Eliott turned and grabbed both of Lucas’ hands and stroked his knuckles with his thumbs.

“So, what do you think of me now?” Eliott asked, once again flashing his bright smile.

“I think you’re someone who doesn’t even realize how strong they actually are. You’re talented and independent. You’re someone others can count on, including me. I don’t deserve someone like you. I’m not enough for you.” Lucas felt the same feeling he felt when he last realized he didn’t deserve Eliott.

“You have the same look you did when you left my apartment,” Eliott frowned. “What makes you think you’re not enough for me?”

“Are you kidding?” Lucas started. “I’m falling for a fucking straight guy!”

Lucas tried to pull his hands out Eliott’s grasp, but Eliott tightened his hold.

“Lucas, I love people. I don’t love any specific gender or anything. I love who I love. I like you, Lucas,” Lucas wasn’t looking at Eliott, he couldn’t. Eliott lifted Lucas’ chin in order for him to meet his gaze. “Lu, I really like you, and I mean that.” Eliott readjusted the white daisy in Lucas’ hair. “You’re more than enough for me.”

Eliott wiped a tear that escaped onto Lucas’ cheek. They stared at each other for a minute, their faces inching closer and closer. Lucas could feel Eliott’s breath across his lips. Eliott brought his left hand to hold Lucas’ cheek while the other held Lucas’ hand, and with that Eliott kissed him.

Lucas felt the feeling deep in his belly, a whole migration of butterflies traveling across his body. Lucas got the wish written on his chest in the most beautiful place he’s ever been with anyone.

They were here together, kissing in their bubble, in their world, in their universe.

[jessikahathaway]

Into Eternity - Part XI

DONT OWN THE PHOTO

Well hello again. I’m sorry, I feel like i’m always leaving you guys. My inbox is always open, feel free to drop a message! I love talking to you guys :) But I’ve been away in the hospital and a bunch of other things have happened. Major change in college (future pharmacist here to help) and college in general takes up a lot of my time. I also work so that doesn’t help my tumblr time... Sad. Anyways, here’s an update on this story, hope you enjoy <3 - Jess

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Words: 3,982

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Action

Warnings: Blood and gore, violence, pining, fluffy stuff too, If I forgot anything please let me know!

The word of the King’s passing had made it throughout the Kingdom of Arcane. 

Even to you in the Northern reaches. 

Hoseok told you the news, and that the Queen was taking over as interim ruler until Jimin was able to take the throne. 

“How is Jimin? Is he alright?” you asked, following Hoseok through the palace like a hungry pup. 

“I don’t know Lady Y/N, the word didn’t come from Lord Taehyung’s castle. The village to the East, where we get our supplies from, is where I heard the news. All the guards are in their mourning gear. So I know it isn’t a mere rumor. This King is truly dead,” Hoseok confirmed. 

You held your hand to your mouth, gripping your stomach with unease. “I-I... God, Jimin must be heartbroken,” you whispered. 

“What does it matter to you? There’s nothing you can do from here, no point in acting concerned for my sake,” he jabbed. 

“There’s no acting, Hoseok,” you growled. 

The room became tense. 

“Please, Lady Y/N, we both know the truth,” Hoseok warned. 

“We both have our versions of the truth, Hoseok. You believe yours, and I’ll believe mine. But don’t tamper with my truth,” you said before marching up the stairs into your room.

You wondered if Jimin was doing alright. Remembering back you know that he was more hands on with Jimin during his childhood. Being his father was important to him, although it didn’t come until he was a little older. 

His father had taken him out on hunts, and taught him how to use a bow for the first time. All of these are precious memories Jimin had shared with you while drifting to sleep. He’d tell you about how he was a clumsy child, and that he’d managed to slip and shoot an apple out of a tree with his father’s prized bow. 

How when he had his first gala his father had drunkenly danced with him because the other princesses were nervous to do so. 

Jimin hadn’t known his father a great deal, but he did love him. And the loss of him was no doubt ravaging on his mind, and you weren’t there to comfort him. The thought of him suffering alone during this delicate time filled you with rage. 

You wanted to hold him close to your chest as you soothed his cries. Brushing your fingers through his hair you’d kiss each one of his tears from his face. You wouldn’t let one fall, you’d stop them all before they could become real.

He was with his friends, Jungkook and Taehyung. Yoongi was also there, no doubt trying to comfort him in his own... indirect way? However, you knew if one of your parents passed, you’d want Jimin there with you. 

Even if they had given you up... They gave you to the man whom you loved, and they raised you to the best of their ability. You didn’t hate them, you don’t think you ever could. But much like Jimin, you didn’t know them well...

The Queen was now taking on the whole burden of the Kingdom by herself... She was only a few years younger than the King, and it would no doubt take its toll on her as well. Jimin needed to become King and fast in order to preserve her health if he could. 

You worried for your family whom you couldn’t see. You wished that Jimin could feel you reaching out for him. 

“I may not be there, but I love you.”

Your soul ached with the message.

“I miss you,” you whispered into the cold air. You watched as your breath hung around in fog. Perhaps Jimin could hear you... Perhaps if you tried hard enough, wished long enough, he could hear you.

When the fog dissipated before your eyes, all you could think is you prayed Jimin could feel your love. Even from this distance.

---

Jimin found himself sat up at night yet again. 

These tiresome evenings truly didn’t help his already sour mood. 

Ever since the news of his father’s death reached him, he hadn’t been able to cry. He knows he should. He was sad... wasn’t he?

But, as sickening as it was to him, when Father Jin had approached in such a state his heart had done somersaults in his chest. And when he heard it was because of his father’s death, he had let out a sigh of relief...

Because at least it hadn’t been you.

Jimin felt disgusted with himself.

That was his father! The man who had made him, the man who had loved him as a child and tried his best to raise him and run a Kingdom at the same time... But Jimin couldn’t find it in himself to be terribly distraught.

Of course he felt sadness...

But it was nothing compared to the fear that had gripped his heart when he thought you had died in his arms. When you were stricken with poison and Father Jin had told him you weren’t to make it through the night...

Merely thinking back to the moment had his throat closing out of fear. 

But you were fine, and that was what mattered to him at this moment. 

His father’s death had given the Kingdom a shock, and now the Forsaken would no doubt be on the prowl for more victims. 

The people needed him to take charge right now, and be their Prince. Even though he wasn’t crowned yet, he still had a duty to them as their future King. And he would perform his duties for his people, and for you.

The Southern borders were becoming desperate, and Jimin as well as Jungkook were to ride out in the morning to set up protective boundaries around the villages in that vicinity. They needed the most protection right now, and Jimin wanted to get his hands on a couple of those nasty bastards who had hurt his people... and his wife.

Jimin walked to the window, leaning out over the railing of the balcony. This was one of your favorite spots to come when you were alone. You liked looking down at the flowers and the beauty of the scenery that was before you.

He smiled sadly into the night, wondering how you were doing right now. 

He was curious if the news of his father’s passing had reached you as well. No doubt Hoseok would have told you. Jimin just hoped that the brute hadn’t been rude about the delivery.

Jimin felt a soft breeze caress his face, filling his heart with an odd fluttering sensation. 

“I miss you ~”

The Prince turned his head radically, looking for the source of that voice. 

He knew that tone, the softness it held. 

That was your voice. 

He would be able to tell in a crowd of a thousand all shouting at him. Because he had committed it to his memory. How breathy it sounded in the morning, and how it was always bright when speaking with the servants or Taehyung and Jungkook. Even Yoongi and Father Jin were able to hear your sweet timbre. 

“Y/N?” he asked, looking around. 

There was no answer to his shout.

“Love? Can you hear me?” he croaked, biting his lip as tears came fresh to his eyes. “I miss you too,” he whimpered. 

Suddenly, a warmth erupted in his chest. It made him gasp, the force of it. He looked down and held onto his calmly beating heart. It felt... it felt like you were there...

As if you had rushed forward to hold him, cradling his plump cheeks in your hands. 

This was your love, he knew it to be true. 

It had to be, what else could cause this sensation within him but you?

He felt his eyes grow tired, and he carried himself back to bed. He didn’t remember latching the door, but he heard the click ring in his ears. As Jimin laid down, there was a warmth that flooded your side of the bed. Grabbing at your pillows Jimin latched onto this feeling. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity... Jimin could feel you next to him, warming his chilled body with your love. 

What Jimin didn’t know is that you felt it too. 

His heat enveloping you in the cold air of the Northern Peninsula, keeping out the frost.

For the first time in a long while, the two of you fell asleep. And you slept throughout the night, neither of you having a single fit as you dreamed of each other...

---

It was cold on the horse Jimin realized as him and his group of fighters travelled down the roads that morning.

Jimin had woken to find your warmth was no longer there, but he wasn’t sad as he originally had been. He felt revitalized when he woke, ready to go and fight for you. For his Kingdom.

The trees were barren, a sign of the changing seasons. The conifers still showing needles in their vibrant green way. There was a feeling that hung in the air as Jimin trekked forward with his group. It wasn’t fear, nor was it any kind of anxiety... it was as if the forest knew what was to come, and she was holding her breath.

Jungkook approaches with his steed beside his Prince. He took in the more serene look on his face, as well as the melted tension in his shoulders. Jungkook smiled, hoping this meant his Prince was fairing well. 

“You seem to be in a better mood, highness,” he claimed, keeping his eyes forward.

“I slept well last night,” Jimin smiled. Just thinking back to his body laying with your love near him made his heart flutter with hope. Soon, he’d see you again.

“I’m glad you did so, today will be long and difficult,” Jungkook said grim. “I want to prepare you. What we are walking into is a ravaged village that the Forsaken decided to make their own. They tend to fight dirty, do the same. They know nothing of formal tactics, use their frenzied approach to end them.”

“I’ll be efficient in my fighting, Jungkook, don’t worry. I have a Princess to fight for,” Jimin smiled. 

“Wish I had one to fight for,” Jungkook grumbled. 

“I heard Y/N say that her handmaiden was rather taken with you,” Jimin teased. Jungkook flushed bright pink.

“W-what? Sissel might, uh, well,” Jungkook said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Jimin laughed good naturedly. 

“I see the look of love in your eyes, don’t let it go... Chase her if you must, but don’t let this feeling leave you... it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do,” the older man warned. 

“FIRES AHEAD!” a man shouted. 

Jimin looked forward and saw smoke billowing into the sky. They reached a break in the forest and the road became much thicker with mud. Red stained the ground and Jimin felt his skin prickle at the realization it was blood. 

The blood of the people he couldn’t save in time.

“HOLD!” Jungkook yelled, making the group stop in their tracks. Jungkook jumped from his steed and placed his hand on his sword. Jimin sat back with bated breath, itching for something to happen. This tension was so thick he felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

Yoongi was towards the back, looking at everything with his keen eyesight. There wasn’t movement coming from the back. The village before them was on fire. As if the Forsaken had decided to make a party of their desecration of these people’s home. 

A putrid scent filled the air. As if someone had urinated themselves then vomited straight after. Jimin’s stomach clenched at the disgusting smell. The whole group seemed perturbed with the new revelation to them. Some of them held their hands over their faces to keep the stench at bay. Others braved through.

Jungkook looked at the fire and a chill ran down his spine... As he hit the treeline that hit his small team from the prying eyes of their enemy, they all seemed to be in a fit of victory. Dead bodies lay in the field, some torn open as if eaten from the inside out. Others missing limbs and their flesh lay decaying beside them on the abused Earth.

“My God,” Jungkook whispered. 

Towards the center of the village square is where the large bonfire was coming from. And inside it were bodies, stuck through on spikes, as if they were pigs for roasting. Some were small, others large. The disgusting creatures responsible hooted and hollered around their feast, proud of their most recent conquest.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” Jimin asked. 

“The village has been slaughtered,” Jungkook growled. “And those bastards are having a feast, celebrating their deaths.”

Jimin’s rage flared high. His people had been murdered and now we're being made sport of. Their deaths would be avenged, by his sword he would purify this areas so their souls could rest. Their Prince would ensure that much.

“We must proceed with caution,” Yoongi spoke up from the rear. “I see archers and several foot soldiers beyond the blaze.”

“How many? Can you approximate?”

“I’d say at least half of what we are prepared with. These people didn’t go down without a fight, that much is for sure. Make haste, there appears to be a patrol heading towards us. Once they know we’re here they won’t stop until they’re dead or we are,” Yoongi warned.

“How long until contact?” Jimin asked.

“Ten minutes, maybe less,” Yoongi announced.

“Men, prepare yourselves,” Jimin spoke up. “These creatures take what they can and give nothing back. They will fight you unfairly, they will hit your weak spots and try to exploit you. Don’t let them. They are baser beings, people without love and without honor. You, are not those people. You fight here today with honor, and with the love of your Kingdom at your back. I have my trust placed in you, as your future King I am proud to fight alongside you here today. And I thank each and every one of you for your sacrifice, if it must come to that,” Jimin nodded.

“FOR ARCANE!” one man shouted.

“FOR ARCANE!” The rest echoed.

Jimin smiled at his brave men, and hoped that most would return to their families when all was said and done. He so hated writing those letters, telling someone their father or husband wouldn’t be returning to them. If he didn’t have to write another, it would be too soon.

“INTRUDERS! INTRUDERS!” A shrill, broken tone screeched from the treeline. “INTRUD-GAH!” 

Jungkook stared down at the twitching corpse with fury in his eyes. His sword was red with it’s blood, and it would only continue to be stained with that color in the following hours. 

“MEN!” Jungkook shouted. “CHARGE!” Jungkook bellowed as he jumped atop his horse and burst forth from the treeline. Jimin followed close after, sword already in his palm.

Arrows whizzed through the air from behind the trees, knocking down several of the foot soldiers heading towards them. Jimin said a silent thank you to Min Yoongi for drilling his men so hard the past few weeks. 

Jimin saw the blood dripping down their faces as they attacked. They shoved one another out of the way, wanting each kill to be their own. They had no semblance for teamwork, for companionship. It was all greed to them, all power and desire.

Jungkook rode through the crowd, slicing down several men and women alike. Jimin cringed at the sight, but knew it was necessary. They were all monsters created from Morgana. The one whom was holding his wife’s life in the palm of her hand... And playing with it. 

Jimin found that his sword weighed almost nothing when he thought of you. Did he just kill twenty? Or was it thirty? Did it matter? All of them were meaningless in his eyes. You were of the utmost importance to him. 

Suddenly, he noticed one of his men’s horse go down to his left. The large animal collapsed, no doubt slashed in the leg by a Forsaken. They fought cheap, and it showed. Yanking his reins to the side, Jimin took off towards his fellow man. He was still fighting bravely, punching and stabbing at his enemies. 

“Yeonsang!” Jimin yelled, coming in and reaching his hand out for his soldier. 

“Highness!” he cried back, taking his arm and jumping on behind him.

“Hold on, I’m taking you back to Yoongi. You can’t be out here without a horse,” Jimin warned. 

“But Highness! I can’t still help!” he argued. 

“Yeonsang, your sister needs you home. Don’t be a fool and die here,” he advised.

The younger man was silent behind him, cutting down a few Forsaken that had tried to latch onto his Prince. “I will always do as you command Highness,” Yeonsang declared. 

Jimin smiled yelling for his horse to move faster. The slick field was proving difficult for her, but she pushed through. Tough as nails this horse. 

Breaking through the twigs, Jimin found Yoongi barking orders at his men. “Yoongi!” Jimin shouted. The Head Archer looked back to see his Prince with a fellow soldier at his back.

“Majesty, did something happen to him?” Yoongi asked. 

“No, his steed is down. Take him, keep him here with you. Give the boy a bow and have him shoot from the treeline. If anyone gets too close, Yeonsang, shoot them,” Jimin said, looking over his shoulder at his comrade. 

“Absolutely, Highness. At your command,” Yeonsang agreed. Yoongi trotted over, pulling the younger male to his side. 

“Highness, my men are ready for their next attack. What do you advise?” Yoongi asked, raising a brow. 

“I want the bulk cut down before we hit them. It’s already a bloodbath out there, and more just keep coming. We still have numbers, but I’m not sure for how long we’ll have that,” Jimin breathed. 

“Then I’ll make an arch that will shoot far, but I have to get them out of their cover to make it work,” the Archer warned. 

Jimin thought for a moment. Revealing their other men would make them targets. Jimin wants to save them until the brunt of the enemy is down before bringing them in for renewed battle. 

“No, take a smaller group of your ment and head towards the far end of the field. Will you be able to have accuracy at that distance?”

“You question my accuracy?” Yoongi jests. 

“Yoongi, now isn’t the time to be boastful. Can you make it or not?” Jimin asked. 

“I can make it with Taechul and Kyubin. They are my best,” Yoongi confirmed. 

“Very good, I expect it done. The rest of them should continue to pick off the stragglers that run in this direction. Yeonsang, I expect you to come out of this battle. Don’t disappoint me,” Jimin smiled, taking off towards the battle once more. 

Jimin refocused his attention on the proceedings. His men were working valiantly against their targets, some seeming to be overwhelmed, Jimin tried to lessen the load by moving around strategically and cutting down some of the weight. 

He was known to be the fastest riders in his Kingdom. His agility on a horse was something unheard of in this day. Jimin was able to bob and weave through several enemies without them being able to land a hit on him or his horse. 

This made him almost invaluable in battle. He was able to target areas of need and aid in their fighting. Jimin was versatile enough to fight several people at once, as well as being able to hone in on specific targets. He was bred for this type of action. Strategy and knowing when and where he would be beneficial was in his blood. His father had made sure his son would be the best fighter in their Kingdom, unmatched by his fellow warriors. 

But he was never arrogant. 

The King had told him the best warriors were the ones who never fought with their fists first. But used their brains to know when their fists were needed. Jimin wanted to live his life by this code during times of struggle and war. So he did.

“HIGHNESS! BEHIND YOU!”

Jimin turned just in time to feel his horse give way beneath him, a pained whinny coming from the creature. Jimin quickly hauled himself into a rolling position so he could so stand on his feet. 

A loud clang of steel against another metal rang in his ears. A Forsaken man who looked to be bigger than the rest stood above him, sneering. “You Prince, we fight,” he growled. Jimin scoffed and quickly moved in for an attack. 

Placing a careful jab towards his side, Jimin tested his reactions. The blow was easily deflected, and Jimin knew that straight on tactics wouldn’t be the best way to defeat this target. 

But was he fast on his feet?

Jimin quickly rolled to the side, making his way behind the brute before placing a slice down his back. The male cried out, then gnarled in pain. The beast moved faster, enraged that he had been bested. A sharp shove came from his opponent, making him stumble backwards. He regained his footing and ducked as another brutish assault came from the front. The man before him was trying to outsmart him, he was merely swinging and seeing what would happen. How he could make Jimin squirm. 

Jimin pivoted to the right, kicking out his left leg and shoving the beasts knee inwards. A sickening crack was heard over the sounds of shouts and screams from the battle raging around them. Next, Jimin sliced right below the kneecap and watched as the Forsaken hit the ground.

It spat in Jimin’s face as he came forward to deliver the final blow. The Prince raised his arms, placing the tip of his blade right at the vile being’s throat. Just as Jimin was about to shove the blade through his chest, the Forsaken grinned at him. “Princess in trouble,” he sneered. 

Jimin froze, thinking of the woman he loved. “What do you know of any Princess, filth?” 

“Mistress tells us we bring her Princess, we get to eat for days. Food, but for food we bring Princess,” he coughed. 

“You won’t get your hands on Y/N,” Jimin full out snarled. “You’ll all die before you could even think of touching my wife.”

“We already have,” the Forsaken man mocked. “Cold, makes Princess weak.”

Jimin’s spine ran cold. 

Hoseok had said to move you to the Northernmost reaches of the Kingdom. You had never fared well in colder weather. What was he thinking, listening to the fool Hoseok?! Jimin’s heart raced in panic, making him unaware of his surroundings. 

He didn’t notice the knife that had been produced from the Forsaken beneath him. It was a poisoned blade no doubt. 

Jimin was too overwhelmed until he felt blood soaking through his boots. With wide eyes he looked up and saw Jungkook standing, heaving air into his lungs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Standing there completely vulnerable like that will get you killed!” Jungkook cried, wrapping his arms around his friend.

The Prince stood there and looked out at the battle raging on. 

The Forsaken were now dwindling, heading back towards the village instead of facing out against his men in the fields. Yoongi’s archers had also taken up arms towards the back of the field as Jimin suggested. 

Victory would be theirs, there wasn’t a doubt in Jimin’s mind. But, as he looked at his men chasing after the brutal enemy...

He couldn’t help feel as though his heart was to burst out of his chest.

Because he had sent you away to a place that could cause your end...

[balmasedas]

THE TRUTH.

(SHAWN MENDES).

WARNINGS: ANGST, SWEARING.

WORD COUNT: 2,5K.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Haven't written for a while so it may be shitty. This is my first imagine here, so I hope you enjoy it! Please make me know if you do so, maybe I'll make a part 2. :')

○○○

Thank god for makeup and alcohol. People like you needed it. Well, people in your situation, you deduced, cause it wasn't part of your nature to get extremely drunk. A radical change of plans, a sudden turn in the oceanic currents —you were sure many could relate.

But, then again, how many were secretly dating a superstar? And how many had to bear their lovers being publicly, and falsely, in another relationship? A better question was: How many of them could get through it? You had done it for over almost a year now. Six months of being silent —no, muted. You were a shadow, a secret.

You had done everything you could. When Shawn had asked if it was ok, you had nodded. You knew that success was part of his dream, and if a little white lie could contribute to that, then... whatever, right? After all you hadn't gone public and it was supposed to be only for a while. Two months top.

But two months turned into three. Your pleasent smiles turned into frowns. Silence turned into screams and discussions with him that drained you completely of energy. "I'm your girlfriend.", "I'm your boyfriend and you should support me.", and yada, yada, yada.

Then Shawn wasn't living with you anymore. He was on tour and you would've been fine with it if you hadn't went through tons of pictures of him passionately kissing Camila, walking hand-to-hand literally everywhere. And you started to wonder if they were even pretending anymore.

Apparently not.

Your first therapy was to dance to music in the apartment that you shared and pretend to not worry about it, but his scent was everywhere. Memories were too hunting, thoughts were too loud and your cries were unstoppable.

A club was the second obvious choice, you decided that night.

The first half of it you were with your friends, and yet you still felt utterly lonely.

The second part, you drank it all, and you felt carelessly free. Everyone was beautiful, everyone was your friend. The lights were pretty, the music was great and you were fucking ecstatic. No Shawn Mendes.

"Two Marg–marga shit ass." you laughed at your own word game. The bartender knew you should call it a night but who was he to deny you more poison? You recieved the drink and struggled to catch the straw with your tongue.

"Here." a hand appeared from your left and helped you take the straw with your mouth. You drank a bit and looked who was the misterious assistent: A guy. He looked older than you, thought the lights and your drunkness forbid you of guessing his age with more precision. You could, though, see his mocking and handsome smile. "You're a mess."

You smirked. "I'm single." Yes, shamelessly flirt, go fuck him and make Shawn pay.

"You are?" Unfortunately, you weren't that drunk. And you went from happy drunk to sad drunk.

"No. I'm not–tsk." you pouted. "I have a boyfriend." your forehead wrinkled "I think."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a celebrity and that shit. Shawn Mendezzz? You know him?" The name rang a bell, apparently. More than it, because the man's posture completely shifted.

"Yeah." he nodded. "And don't get me wrong, you're beautiful, but you aren't his girlfriend. Unlless you're Camila Cabello." that sparked anger inside of you.

"Of courrrrrse not, shtupid!" you poked his chest. Then you proceeded to clumsily reach inside your dress, between your breasts, and took out your phone. The device read your fingerprint and you shoved it in his face. "Look!" you weren't anymore aware of what you were really doing. You just smiled proudly at the photo of you and Shawn kissing in front of a beach sunset. It was your favorite picture. One of the last ones you had taken months ago, when both of you were still happy. "Yeah, Carmela Cabitch is only a– a promo! She's fake and shit!" you went to your inbox and looked for Shawn's chat. "Here! lmao! See?" You showed him his messages, where you talked of the PR stunt, of how he promised it would all be over soon. You were too busy laughing hysterically to notice this guy taking his phone out. "I'm a fucking no one so!" you shrugged, happily. As if you had no choice. He laughed with you and asked for a round of something, that you didn't hear, but when the glass of alcohol was set in front of you, you welcomed it.

He raised his cup towards you, "Cheers for... the truth. May everyone hear it soon."

You giggled and cheered with him. "Whatever dude." you emptied your glass. And you kept drinking and drinking. The man was with you for the rest of the night. He was fun, actually. You had fun.

So much fun that you let him keep your phone until you said goodbye.

○○○

There was a buzz. An annoying and incesant buzz. You had heard it too many times for not being able to recognize it as your own phone but you were too tired to do something about it. Your face was buried in the pillow, you were spread like a starfish on the bed with one leg hanging over the side. Too comfy to move.

You groaned when you had to stretch your arm and reject the person who was calling you non-stop. You thought you had found peace for your headache finally, but the phone started vibrating again. And you were fucking done. Your reached for it and squinted your eyes for the sudden light in your eyes. You thought your sleepy state had fooled you at first and made you see things that weren't there but a few blinks confirmed what was right in front you.

Over 5K twitter notifications.

Over 1K on Instagram.

Hundreds of messages.

Dozens of missed calls from Shawn, your best friend, your mom.

You quickly sat up. You brushed the hair out of your face. You suddenly felt sick and it wasn't because of the hangover. You had a bad feeling cause that didn't happen unless something was really, really wrong.

You went to your messages. Your mom was asking if you were okay, she was worried, "it's not your fault" she stated. Your bestfriend had texted "hmu as soon as you read this.". She had also called you a few times. Then your dad and last, but not least, Shawn. You were extremely anxious. His calls and messages were the most, and he was the one you'd rejected a few minutes ago. If something was wrong, it had too do with him:

"Y/N."

"Y/N pick up."

"R u ok?"

"How could you do this?"

"You fucked up. You fucked us all up."

"Jesus Christ, pick up!"

"What the fuck?" You murmured. Your hand went from your stomach to your mouth. You opened twitter, cause everytime something happened it was there first. 'Shawn Mendes' was trending, 'Camila' too, your fucking name was trending third and in 5th place was the word 'PR'.

You immediatly knew what it was, but how?

You started reading the tweets involving your boyfriend.

"I knew Shawmila was PR!!!1 I called it first but lol, how could Shawn's gf sell him like that. Yikes"

"Y/N was clearly jealous but how can you fucking expose your boyfriend?????? like????? You agreed to it, didn't you?"

"I know it was fake, but Shawn was better with Camila than a snake like Y/N. #Facts"

And the tweets got worst and worst, but not a million of them could prepare you to see your pictures all over twitter. Your photos kissing Shawn, him with your family. The screenshots of your texts. His and your intimacy violated by the world. The insults did nothing in comparision of the pain you felt then.

In the middle of desperation, you started wondering what did you do wrong, if anything could compromise your privacy the night before and suddenly everything came back: The man. The man stole your shit straight from your phone. You were so stupid, so drunk you didn't noticed.

Your hand went from your core to your face. You sprinted to the bathroom and emptied everything from your stomach on the toilet.

You were there for a few minutes, lying on the floor, crying, to weak to get up. Your phone started buzzing again, and you were ready to ignore it again when you remembered: "Shawn." you got up so fast you almost tripped. You put on a hoodie and pants over your pijama, went to the living room and dialed Shawn's number. You had to talk to him. You needed to explain yourself desperately.

"Please, pick up, pick up, pick up." you mumbled while searching your shoes. Suddenly, a ringing echoed in your apartment. And not any ringing, Shawn's. It was Shawn's tone for your calls.

You turned your head and there he was: Coming out of the kitchen with a glass of water. You would've jumped to his arms, it would've been normal if it wasn't for his face. You've never seen like that. You wish you never did.

"Shawn I–" you started but he stopped you midsentence.

"Had to take a flight all the way from Japan just to be here." he offered you the water and you drank it, with the pill that luckily would help with the headache. He observed you in silence. You felt little under his eyes, painfully ashamed of what was happening. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing again and sobbing with the glass still in your mouth. "Don't, please. You'll choke."

He gently took the glass away from you and you covered your face.

"I'm so sorry. I–I–"

"You what? Y/N" any hopes of discussing with calmness dissapeared when he raised his voice. You couldn't hold in your sadness and he couldn't hide hise anger. "Do you know what this means?! For all of us?!" you crossed your arms over your stomach.

"I saw it."

"You saw it? They're destroying you. Look." Shawn turned the TV on and did a quick zapping over most of the news channel. Half of them focused on Shawn and Camila's stunt, half of them focused on you. You tensed your jaw and looked at an empty point on the floor. Shawn said something else, but you couldn't focuse on his words as you recalled what started it all.

"How much more can I be destroyed?" you whispered. Shawn turned the TV off and looked at you, somewhere between concerned and taken aback.

"What?"

"Yeah, you heard well. What's a bit more of pain? I mean, everybody is hating me but at least they know who I am, right?" Shawn scrubbed his face and you could practically see the words inside his mind: Not again. But weren't you telling the truth? You wouldn't be in that situation if it wasn't for the contract extending that long. If Shawn had the decency to not push you to a side, you wouldn't have gotten drunk and the secret wouldn't be out.

"We already went through this!"

"No we didn't!" you screamed. Shawn stared at you speechless "We didn't talk it out! You just avoided it, and avoided it until I wasn't part of the picture anymore." At this point your face was drenched in tears. The sobs were painful but, at the same time, you felt free. You had contain your anguish for too long.

"You know I had no choice!"

"Yes you did!" you poked his chest with anger "You had the choice of calling me, of reaching out to me! You were travelling the world with Camila and I suddenly didn't existed. The contract said you had to pretend to be with her, not stop loving me."

"I never stopped loving you, what the hell are you talking about? I kept in touch with you."

You laughed. For the first time you laughed, but it wasn't filled with joy. You were frustrated, furious. You advanced a few steps and stood before him, chest to chest.

"You bet?" you asked low "Pick up your phone, Shawn." no movement. "Pick up you god damn phone. You'll find my fucking texts, my fucking calls and only fucking me caring for us."

"I forgot to call you a few times. That. Was. It."

"That was it." you repeat, nodding with your head, as you finally understand. "Then this is it."

Shawn blinked a few times.

"What?" he mumbled. Your eyes got teary, his too. You don't have to watch it anymore as you strode to your bedroom.

You grabbed a suitcase from your closet and started throwing some clothes in it. Shawn called your name a few times and stopped at that door.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You knew his tones enough to guess that he's scared.

"Going to my mom's. We're done." you laughed and corrected yourself "I'm done."

"What? No, no, no. This isn't over. If anything I should be the one quitting, you fucked this all by selling me." you turned abruptly, but your voice wasn't strong or determined. If it was even possible, something else shattered inside of you. You knew he was affected by happened, but never did you imagined that he'd believe what they were saying.

"You really think I am capable of hurting you on purpose?" you choked out a sob. Tears started falling again.

What he didn't said was enough. You slowly nodded.

"Y/N" he murmured, when you grabbed the suitcase and passed beside him. You walked to the door and his voice, again, this time did stop you. "Y/N, stay. Let's talk. Please."

You vaguely dried the tears on your face with your hand and turned around. It took all of your strength to look at him.and talk: "I was drunk. Was it my fault? Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I should've not drown myself in alcohol. But there were two people in this relationship. I tried to talk to you and you just didn't listen. You just didn't—" Shawn was crying now. His jaw was locked, his hands tugging tightly his hair. You wished you could erase that image from your head.

"Please, Y/N. Shit! I'm so sorry. We can work this out. I believe you, baby, but don't go. I beg."

You smiled with a certain nostalgia. Your memories were holding you in, hope had it's role too. But was there really hope for you both? If he really loved you, you both wouldn't be standing there. If he really loved you, he would've taken five minutes of his day to talk to you. Your heart was aching, and you've had enough. It was the fact that he evidently didn't love you that made you took a step out.

You slowly closed the door, but not before hearing his now-loud cries. "Goodbye, Shawn."

[purplesurveys]

998

survey by starsareonly2nd

How many text messages are currently in your inbox? I don’t know if my phone can provide that particular feature. Suffice it to say there’s a ton because I don’t really do spring cleaning with my texts and I’ve kept messages since getting this phone in 2018.

Is your profile picture in color or black & white? All my profile photos have been in color, and I think I’ve only had to have a black and white photo once.

What's your favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually.

Did you dress up for Halloween this year? If so, what were you? We’re gonna be having a virtual Halloween party at work on Wednesday and I’m thinking of just going as Dora the Explorer again since I wasn’t able to maximize my costume last year anyway (the Halloween party I had gone to didn’t allow shorts - wtf? so I ended up wearing orange pants and looking nothing like Dora) and this time around I also actually have bangs to complete the look. But idk, the party announcement says we also have 30 seconds each to impersonate the character, and I'm just not extroverted enough for individual presentations like that. I’m heavily leaning towards skipping the entire thing because of that one instruction, but we’ll see.

Are there any posters in your room? Of what? Yuh, Nam Joo Hyuk.

Do you read Rolling Stone? I don’t think I ever have.

Which Harry Potter book (if you read them) was your favorite? I read up until the blue book, but I don’t remember which one I had enjoyed reading the most. I do remember breezing through one of them and finishing in just a couple of hours, so I’d say that was my favorite.

Do you have any stuffed animals you still sleep with? No.

What kind of cell phone do you own? iPhone.

Do you have any pets? Yes :)

Are there currently any accessories in your hair? Sure, a hair tie.

Are you involved with any clubs at your school? I was in two organizations in college andddd in high school it was mandatory to be in a club, so I was in one for each year.

Do you have an MP3 player? What kind? I used to own an iPod Nano.

What's your favorite sport to watch on TV? Wrestling!!! My first love, forever and always.

How many people live with you? Four. Parents and two siblings.

Are you good at any styles of dance? Haha, I wish. I’m a terrible dancer.

Do you think that your hair looks better curly or straight? Neither. It’s best when it’s wavy.

Where was your default taken? It’s not a photo of me, first of all. It’s from an episode of Bojack but I can’t remember which episode it’s form.

Have you ever been to another country? Yeah, several times.

Do you prefer cats or dogs? Dogs.

What was the last thing you ate? Kwek-kwek. My grandma made so many pieces for us when she came over yesterday <3

What's your desktop background? It’s of a mountain range and is one of the provided backgrounds in my laptop.

What was the last movie you saw at a theater? For the billionth time, Knives Out.

Did you think it was a good movie? No, but I’m biased because I hate that genre. I’m fairly sure it was well-received and that it’s objectively a good movie.

Are you afraid of spiders? The ones we have here are super tiny and look pretty harmless, so no. But I’ve seen how freaky spiders can look like in other countries and I understand why so many people are terrified of them.

Did you carve a pumpkin this year? If so, what did you carve into it? No, we don’t practice that here.

Which Disney movie is your favorite? Toy Story makes me the happiest.

Are you the youngest, oldest, middle, or only child? Eldest.

If your power were to suddenly go out right now, how would you react? Annoyed at the inconvenience, but glad that my laptop is at 88% and that I have a bunch of tabs with surveys so I can at least do something; unbothered because the weather is cold; and pleased that I have enough mobile data to keep myself from getting bored. Overall I wouldn’t mind it, hahaha

Do you enjoy photography? I don’t enjoy doing it, but I like looking at photos, sure.

What's your favorite thing to do at the beach? Swim and allowing myself to relax and let go in the water.

Are you afraid of heights? Not for most situations, but if I had to do an extreme stunt or dare that involved heights then yeah it would.

If someone were to cut you in line at a store, would you speak up? No, but I’d take a photo of their back and share it on social media and call them an asshole to release my annoyance. I’d probably try to sneakily elbow them as well, just so I can sleep soundly at night.

Are there any foods you enjoy baking/cooking? No.

What website would you say you visit the most? Definitely YouTube.

What book are you currently reading? [continued from yesterday] I don’t think it’s still fair to say I’m reading Midnight Sun anymore. I haven’t opened it in about a month now, even though it’s constantly on my desk just right beside the laptop I work on.

Is it for school or just because you want to read? It’s because I do want to read it and because I like Twilight hehe. I’m not in school.

Are you going to any concerts in the future that you know of? I’m just waiting for my third Paramore show, whenever that is; but otherwise no and I have no clue who or when the first post-Covid concert is going to be.

Do you play any instruments? No. I can play some tunes on the piano but it’s cheating and I don’t count it, because I’ve only memorized which keys to press and I don’t actually know how to read notes or use the proper fingering.

Are you looking forward to the new Alice in Wonderland movie? This question is so cute considering it’s been a literal decade since that movie came out...anyway, no, I didn’t look forward to it as I’m not a fan of the genre.

Do you get seasick? I do but I can handle my stomach for the most part. The only time it got really bad was during my cruise, and the only reason I didn’t throw up was my dad has a cabin at the bottom floor of the ship, where the shaking was a lot weaker.

When was the last time you hung out with your friends? This is so painful to read lol...last week of February.

Do you drink soda on a regular basis? Nopes.

Are you currently wearing a hoodie? No but I can do with one right now to feel cozy. I just don’t feel like getting out of my chair.

What's the weirdest food you've ever eaten? Gulab jamun was personally a unique experience, but weird has a negative connotation so I’m avoiding that word.

What was the last sporting event you attended? I think it was like a UP/Ateneo volleyball game, which was the only type of UAAP event I attended anyway.

Do you understand Shakespeare? Nope, that’s why I got books that had the modern-day translations right beside the original text lol. I mean I would probably be able to understand it if I exerted time and effort into reading Shakespeare, but I don’t have either, so.

Is there a bookshelf in your room? Nah but the top of my closet acts like one.

Do you need to wear glasses at all? Yes, all the time.

What's your favorite genre of books? Anything non-fiction, so books on history, memoirs, etc.

Do you think it's too early for Christmas music? Not in the Philippines. Christmas for us starts in September :) Anyone’s free to put up Christmas trees and lights or listen to Christmas music as soon as the clock strikes 12 midnight on September 1st.

What's the longest you've ever gone without speaking? Maybe during my dark days in 6th grade? I was super depressed, had no friends, had a strained relationship with my entire famly, and was holed up in my room all day long. It’s very possible I went several days without talking then.

Does your house have a garden? I wouldn’t call it a garden but we do have several trees and plants around the house, yes.

What color is the shirt you are wearing? It’s multi-colored stripes.

Do you know what brand of toothpaste you use? Colgate.

When was the last time you were on an airplane? Early 2019.

Do you have a permit or license? A driver’s license, yes.

Did you walk any long distances today? Nope. So far I’ve only gone down to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of coffee.

Are you currently wearing any make-up? I’m not.

How do you feel about bands covering old pop music? I personally don’t like most covers but I don’t take it against the bands. I just won’t listen to those versions.

Are your nails painted? Never are.

Do you use correct grammar online? Sure, unless I want to use bad grammar on purpose.

Do you agree with the statement that Miley Cyrus is a bad role model? I don’t think she even ever claimed to be one, so that’s an unfair accusation. I personally never had a problem with her and I admire her confidence and boldness in her performances and other things she does. Slide Away in particular is a very beautiful song.

Do you give out cards on Valentine's Day? No.

What are you listening to right now? I can hear the wind lightly blowing outside, but thankfully it’s no longer as violent as yesterday.

[inkabelledesigns]

Introductions to Equinox: Doll Profiles (January 2020)

Equinox is filled with many wonderful dolls. Today I’d like to introduce you to some of my favorites. Apologies for the lower image quality on the sketches, I haven’t been able to get the scanner to work yet, so it’s all photos of my sketchbook from my phone. ^^’’’

Loraine Celeste: Captain of the Royal Guard

Wow, artwork from Inktober AND this past Christmas? Yeah, can you tell I forget to post stuff on here? XD Folks, meet Loraine, who undeniably has gotten the most positive reception besides Auran when I share this stuff in smaller groups. Like Auran, she is a nutcracker, but she didn’t start off that way. Originally she was built to be a dancer for the Swansong Ballet, run by the lovely couple Odette and Siegfried (which is a whole different can of worms). Just a standard wooden doll who was light on her feet. She did her job beautifully, her skill was undeniable, but she wasn’t content. While dancing was all well and good, she found her greatest joys when something went amiss. Several stagehands were rescued by her hand from falling lights and trapdoors, no thanks to a bratty ballerina who kept pushing them in the way of danger. She’s one of the few dolls my story focuses on that actually knew both the king and queen in person. The queen was charmed by her performances. In one case, they had just a moment to talk backstage after one, to which she imparted the most important words Loraine would ever here. “Wherever your heart guides you, that’s the place you ought to be. After all, the role is called “heroine,” sometimes you get saved, sometimes you do the saving.”

A few years after the queen’s death, Loraine finds herself in a doll’s only tavern. On that particular night, a soldier from the guard has come in to watch the merriment with a friend by his side. The two end up conversing throughout the night, laughing and dreaming of what it would be like to live in the other’s shoes. One night turns to two, then three, then a few weeks, and the two hatch a brilliant plan. With the help of the soldier’s friend, they switch their parts and disguise as one another at their jobs. It takes months for them to be caught, but the two end up switched permanently, happier than ever in a place that best suits them both. Lorain climbed her way up the ranks and became the captain of King Hans’ forces, and Equinox is safe and secured thanks to her fine judgment. 

Manny Quinn: The Royal Outfitter

With a name so cheeky, it’s no wonder that Manny has such a sense of humor. The mannequin has seen his fair share of daring moments. For many years he was confined to a shop window, posing the latest trends for passerby's to see. But Manny was more than a model, he was an artist. When there was no more work to be done for the day, Manny would return home and burn the midnight oil as he stitched together the most beautiful threads. Ballgowns, capes, hats, and a large selection of wigs were all in his collection, all made from scraps, odds, and ends that his workplace discarded recklessly. Inspired by the story of Cinderella, he disguised himself one day while off from work to go to the annual market and present his wares for sale. With the interest of an investor, Manny was finally able to sell his designs and make his way forward as the first doll to change the fashion industry. He now works as the royal outfitter, with his business on the side to keep Equinox looking fabulous, with the help of his assistant, Hermy. 

While I won’t get into it too much just yet, Manny is also capable of shapeshifting, thanks to something known as dust magic that we’ll get to in another post. Trust me, it’s gonna be fun when we get to the rules of magic in this world. Most don’t know of his abilities, but it certainly comes in handy for making clothes that fit a variety of body types.

Amil Pastiche: The Peridot Puppet

Marionettes are jolly good fun, and Amil is no exception. There aren’t many toys in Equinox that are built to be so youthful, but his energy is contagious, and the children love his performances. But Amil’s story isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. His father, the puppeteer, was a lonely man, who much like Gepetto who created Pinnochio, wanted a son. He built one in Amil, hoping maybe some far off fae would grant his wish for a human boy, but no such luck was to be had. Amil didn’t care, he was happy just as he was, but his father was not. The poor boy was never good enough, and when the curtains were closed, he was treated horribly, unable to escape and call out for help. Eventually, things got so bad that the little puppet ran away, seeking refuge in the palace, begging for sanctuary. Loraine was the one to graciously let him in on that cold, stormy night, and he was rescued. Through a difficult trial, his father was imprisoned for his abusive actions, and Amil was free. He eventually went to work as a stagehand for the ballet, only to perform again occasionally after all those years of being worn down. 

All three have since become good friends throughout the years. There’s two more for us to talk about in their merry little band, but one must wait, and the other, well, I think you know who it is. For now, though, we rest, until it is time for another story.~ 

Thank you all for tuning in, if this interested you, don’t worry, there’s a heck of a lot more where this came from. The Doll Mender is a story I plan to do great things with, and I hope you’re ready to take the journey with me to turn these past two years’ content into something wonderful! ^^ If you have any questions or want to know more, my inbox is always open. I’d love to hear what you think and if there’s anything specific you’d like to see! ^^

[moonbeambucky]

The Price of Gold (Part 17)

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 4654 Warnings: angst, mention of cancer, mention of real life gymnastics sex abuse scandal

Summary: As a sports journalist you’ve traveled the world interviewing famous athletes. You’ve loved your job up until you find out your next article is on the last person in the world you ever wanted to talk to, Lance Tucker.

A/N: This was probably the hardest chapter I had to write but I love it so much and I hope you do too! This doesn’t follow The Bronze canon though some film details are mixed with real world events. Written for @green-eyeddragonfanfiction Dragon’s 3k Follower Creative Content Challenge. My prompt was “I can’t be in love with you!” gif source (x)

PART 16 | THE PRICE OF GOLD MASTERLIST

On the grand opening day for Tucker Gymnastics Lance looked like absolute shit. He spent the night in the ER again with his mother and Nadia, all for the doctors to tell him the same thing as before, his mother was dying.

Lance cupped Dorothy’s hands in his own, watching her hooked up to machines again. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t call. Why didn’t you listen to him? Nadia said she received a phone call that made her really confused. There was screaming from the other end of the line and it was upsetting Dorothy but all she kept repeating was “Y/N.” She became so upset she started to panic, her mind couldn’t handle whatever was happening and Nadia couldn’t calm her down. Her blood pressure was through the roof and so she went to the hospital.

He contemplated everything, wondering if you were playing games with him from the start. Maybe he deserved it. Lance knew he fucked up in the past but he was young and stupid. He was also madly in love with you and every day he tried to explain, to apologize. Even if you didn’t forgive him he just wanted to see your face one last time to know it was really over. Instead you ignored him and the open wound that was his heart hurt more and more until it was infected. He partied to forget you, he became the asshole that would have driven you away if you even attempted to contact him. He convinced himself that he didn’t need anyone but it was a lie. He always needed you.

But now Lance doesn’t know what to think because you hurt his mother. He ignored your calls and texts, turning his phone off because he couldn’t stand to look at your face each time the photo of you cuddling together on his couch popped up. Once he thought you were beautiful but now he only sees a monster. How could you do this to him?

Lance left the hospital to run home quickly, disgusted that he stood in the same shower you shared only twenty-four hours ago. He changed and sped over to the center, hoping the bags under his eyes weren’t too deep, hoping he could claim he was up all night preparing for this day.

He was in a daze as the day went by. He should have been happy, this was his dream; his center was USAG accredited, there was an overwhelming sign up from excited children and their parents but Lance wanted to scream. He was too exhausted to deal with everything, wanting to go home and sleep for the next month instead of being there. Looking around all he saw were memories of you and he hated it. You turned his dream into a nightmare.

By the end of the following week Lance was exhausted after visiting his mom after a long day at the center. She had been back home for a few days, with new medication to ease her discomforts. She refused treatment knowing there was no point to it; she’d rather not face the side effects again especially after the cancer had spread.

Lance plopped on the couch slinging his arm over his tired eyes, even the soft glow of the flickering TV was too bright for him. His head was pounding and he wanted to sleep. The sound of his phone going off disturbed the small moment of peace he found. Now that the center was open his phone was always going off with notifications, emails regarding new students and scheduling, Twitter replies, and continued texts that go unreturned from women he didn’t care to involve himself with.

Lance instinctively opened the inbox for the email created for the center to find there was nothing new there, it was his personal email that had a new message and his stomach twisted into knots when he saw it was from you.

Sitting up now he stared at his phone, debating if he should even open your message. You never read any of the apology notes he left for you so he thought about doing the same but something pulled at his heart and he decided to click the box, bracing himself for whatever words were on the opposite side.

Dear Lance,

I want to apologize for many things but the most importantly for the phone call your mom received. An ambitious former coworker searched for her number and used my name to try to gain information. This shouldn’t have happened and I take full responsibility for everything. I love your mother very dearly and I would never jeopardize her health or privacy, ever.

I’m also sorry for accusing you of something that didn’t happen. I felt like my trust was broken, like I was that vulnerable teenager again who didn’t want an explanation. I ran away then just like I ran away now and I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine that I’ve come to realize since my trip to Spring Hill.

Speaking of, it comes as no surprise to us both that I was reluctant to go on that trip but I’m very happy that I did. Despite how things ended I want you to know that I’m truly happy we resolved our issues from the past. I’m really sorry it took so long.

Writing has always helped clear my head. When thoughts are swirling around my mind like a hurricane it’s comforting to get them out in this way. Since I’ve been back in New York I’ve taken the time to write down all of my thoughts about our experience together. Even though you aren’t approving the article I wanted you to read it, keep it for yourself and know just how much you’ve always meant to me.

I wish you the very best success with your gymnastics center and your life. You deserve great things Lance Tucker, you always have.

-Y/N

A lump was caught in Lance’s throat with tears burning his eyes as he reread your email. He felt horrible, saying those things to you when you were innocent. He knew you would never hurt his mom and now he hated himself for yelling at you.

Lance went into the kitchen to grab something to drink, leaning over the cool countertop of the island and opening the PDF attachment within the email.

IN DEPTH with Lance Tucker By Y/N Y/L/N

Sacrifice. Sacrifice is a word that’s tossed around the sports industry a lot with the focus on the athlete and the things they’ve sacrificed to get to where they are today. Sacrifices are never easy. Most athletes have strict diet and workout regimens to adhere to, others have sacrificed their time, losing hours that could be spent with friends and family in favor of practicing, training or performing halfway across the world. When you’ve achieved your goal of becoming that athlete it makes the sacrifices a little easier. They were part of the journey to the top but what about the sacrifices put you on the path in the first place?

Lance Tucker was a household name when he made it to the top by winning a Silver Medal in the 2004 Rome Olympics and the Gold in 2008 Beijing Olympics for the US Men’s Gymnastics Team, but the name you should know is Dorothy Tucker. If it wasn’t for the sacrifices of Dorothy, Lance’s mother, Lance would not have become the athlete we know today.

For the first time in my sports journalism career I haven’t had to do research on the person I would be going to interview. In 1991 I moved to Spring Hill, Florida and the first friend I ever made was the boy across the street, Lance Tucker. He and his mother Dorothy welcomed my family to the neighborhood and we all became very close.

Lance’s father Mitch was an intimidating man, loud and gruff, angry at the world for the cards he had been dealt. He was the type of man that dreamed of a better life but let his own insecurities hold him back. He settled in for a blue collar job, living every day with regrets that were pacified when he reached the bottom of the bottle.

Mitch insisted on being the sole provider for the Tucker family, something I learned later on that Dorothy heavily protested but after various screaming matches she ended up settling into her role as housewife. He worked long hours so Dorothy and Lance had become accustomed to being alone together. Dorothy sat through episodes of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with her son excitedly jumping off the couch to reenact the fight scenes. She laughed as Lance’s little body spun around from the force of the punches he threw to the air as he pretended to fight The Foot Clan but he showed grace when he mimicked the turtles, doing cartwheels and somersaults around the living room.

On trips to the park Lance would climb the monkey bars and Dorothy noticed his agility, seeing him demonstrate more coordination and balance than his peers. She scanned through her VHS tape of the 1988 Olympics for the gymnastics portion she swears she recorded. Upon finding it, Dorothy asked Lance watch it with her and this was the day his life changed. The four year old was mesmerized with the sport and was especially excited to see a young man with his namesake, now retired Olympian Lance Ringnald, practically flying in the air as he swung over and under, flipping his body around the high bar. From that day forward Lance wanted to become a gymnast too.

Mitch was against the idea from the start but Dorothy fought for her son, sacrificing her sanity as Mitch continually yelled; his booming voice shaking the foundation of their home, all because of some old fashioned ideas about what it means to be a man.

Mitch Tucker grew up idolizing Mickey Mantle, an extraordinary baseball player whose life outside of the field was equally as exhilarating, indulging in the Manhattan nightlife offerings of endless booze and women. In Mitch’s mind Mantle was a real man he could look up to and while he never played any professional sports he certainly tried to emulate the lifestyle of his hero.

When his young son took an interest in gymnastics it was safe to say that Mitch panicked, worrying that it would make Lance soft and feminine. It was close minded thinking ingrained in him from a long line of other close minded thinkers.

Fighting with Dorothy over Lance’s hobby became a natural part of their relationship and while he didn’t appreciate her standing up to him in some twisted sense of pride he liked the devotion she had towards Lance.

Reluctantly, Mitch began to take Lance to competitions and despite his son’s talent, earning top scores and gold medals from an early age he would consistently demean Lance and his achievements, telling him he should quit and join a real sport instead.

When Lance was ten his parents separated. Mitch’s drinking and infidelity (something both Lance and I were unaware of as children) had reached an all time high but it was the way he spoke about Lance that angered Dorothy the most; Mitch was disappointed in him.

On the surface Lance was an award winning, talented gymnast who was dedicated to his training. He balanced schoolwork and house chores and still made time to see his friends. He was a smart and kind young man and he adored his mother. When you put everything together you can easily see what Mitch was disappointed in, Lance was nothing like him.

I won’t say that Dorothy sacrificed her marriage because she always deserved someone who treated her with love and respect, nevertheless with divorce on the horizon Dorothy was in need of a job. She worked hard, as a letter carrier during the week and got a second job on some nights and the weekend in a dentist’s office to ensure she could pay for Lance’s increased gymnastics training and it paid off in his achievements. Lance continued to compete and the walls of his room were decorated in medals and trophies from various competitions.

There’s a natural sense of pride in winning especially when you’ve worked as hard as Lance Tucker did. In middle school he began training exclusively with Coach Jaclyn Burrows who occupied most of his time after school and on weekends. Despite his exhaustion Lance never failed to hand in his homework and even if his body was sore and achy he never once complained. Although there was the time during my twelfth birthday party where he came very close.

It was held at a roller skating rink and Lance begged Coach Burrows to come in a few hours earlier in order to get out in time so he didn’t miss all of my party. When I saw Lance had arrived I skated over to him, jumping with excitement as he laced up his skates but the minute Lance got onto the floor his overworked legs were like jelly and they gave out on him. I helped him up as he gripped on to me and I skated us both to the benches. He apologized, asking if I would be upset if he didn’t skate. Of course I would never ask him to do that but had I said yes I know Lance would have forced himself to do it, gripping the rail against the wall for support with a smile on his face just so I would be happy.

Lance laid on the bench, resting his head on his mother’s leg as he watched me skate by, eventually closing his tired eyes and falling asleep because he was exhausted. Dorothy woke him up in time for cake although Lance couldn’t have any. He had an upcoming competition and he restricted himself, sticking to a regimented diet of lean meats and vegetables. For a thirteen year old that is sacrifice! Lance stared at the forbidden dessert decorated with flickering candles as he and I posed for a picture, smiling widely as we hugged.

By the time Lance was in his first year of high school he was completely overworked. He was training to compete for the Junior Olympic National Championships while trying to balance the heavy workload of his classes. He hardly had time to do anything, trying to read books for English class on the bus to Coach Burrow’s gymnastics center, training until it was dark, rushing through dinner and staying up late to start his homework. He was burning out easily and Dorothy hadn’t truly seen the effects until she received a call from the Principal’s office. Lance was sleep deprived and his body was too sore to move, so when the Physical Education teacher yelled at him for “being lazy” and not participating Lance snapped at the man, yelling and crying out of frustration (a terribly embarrassing scene for Lance in front of his classmates).

Dorothy wanted Lance to complete high school but she understood there was no way he could do it with the amount of training he required, so she pulled him out in favor of hiring someone to homeschool him. It was another expense she really couldn’t afford but she made sacrifices, dropping the expensive cable TV and only buying new clothes for Lance when he absolutely needed them. Unfortunately the boy was growing into a man whose body was growing as well, becoming taller and stronger but Dorothy never complained. She mended her own wardrobe as needed so Lance could get new clothes, it was a privilege for her to sacrifice things in favor of her son.

Lance homeschooled for a few hours six days a week and he trained for seven, dedicating as much time as he could. Nationals were an important step in his Olympic journey and my family and I were there to support him. Lance was neck and neck with Michael McNamara, each of them rotating between first and second place after each event. It wasn’t until Lance completed his routine on the high bar, expertly performing moves I still don’t know the names for that sent him to the top.

He twisted around the bar, varying his grip and changing direction. I watched with amazement at the way he skillfully controlled his body around the steel frame. Finally he swung around the bar gaining enough momentum to spring upwards, his body rotating a few times before he stuck a strong landing, reaching his arms up with achievement. The perfect execution of his routine earned him the Gold Medal with Dorothy running up to him, tears of joy streaking down her face as they celebrated a big win. Lance and I lost touch before he the 2004 Olympics but I watched as he took home the Silver medal. I was proud of him though Dorothy was the true celebrant that day; this was the culmination of the sacrifices she made.

A lot can happen in four years. In the four years between the Olympics Lance had turned from a boy on the brink of adulthood to a man at twenty-one, standing taller, stronger and more determined than ever. He pushed himself to train harder, wanting another shot at the gold.

Lance moved to Houston, Texas to train full time with Kevin Mazeika of the Houston Gymnastics Academy. Mazeika who has served on the National Team Coaching staff since 1988 spoke about Lance before Beijing stating “I’ve never met anyone as focused as Lance Tucker. He eats, sleeps and breathes gymnastics. He wants to be the best and I’ll tell ya [sic] with the way he’s training he just might be.”

Lance put himself through a grueling diet to ensure his body was at its peak physical condition. He pushed himself to the limit as he worked on his routines. He became a machine, training until ever imperfection was eradicated. He needed to be perfect.

Lance was obsessed, needing to win the gold to feel validation from the unnecessary demands he put on himself. He only visited home during the holidays and quickly returned to Houston to train. As Lance bent forward to receive his gold medal he was a changed man. He reached the top of the mountain and instead of being thankful for the journey and the sacrifices made he was boasting. To commemorate his win Lance got his infamous ribbon tattoo, an impulsive decision he looks back on today and regrets.

Lance was at the top of his career after his Olympic win, becoming the youngest National Team Coordinator in US Gymnastics history, purposely taking a position with the women’s team because his self-admitted ego would not allow him to train the men’s team and become overshadowed by anyone.

Lance had a successful career living in Los Angeles when he wasn’t travelling for USA Gymnastics and then his world came to a complete halt when the scandals broke.

Psychologists have argued about the various reasons why we like scandals. They’re a form of entertainment, a real life soap opera that plays out before our eyes, they give us distraction from our own lives, sometimes making us feel good if we can compare ourselves to the persons involved and think we’re better than them because of this.

In the early 1990’s sports scandals became surprisingly common beginning with the attack on Nancy Kerrigan followed by the O.J. Simpson murder trial. The scandals were ubiquitous between the endless cycle of news programs and media coverage.

On the day of the Simpson verdict everyone was waiting with bated breath, with workplaces standing still, listening to the radio to hear whether the former football player was deemed guilty or innocent. The actual verdict was irrelevant since the story was so sensationalized it had become detached from the facts. Instead of being concerned about the horrific murder of Nicole Brown-Simpson and Ron Goldman, the country was in hysterics over Johnnie Cochran’s infamous glove line. It seems like people will always enjoy the entertainment that scandals bring as long as they aren’t affected by them personally.

When Lance Tucker was at the center of various scandals his life was forever changed. A student accused him of fathering her child, another accused him of rape, and while every accusation was proven to be untrue Lance was let go by USA Gymnastics, a direct result of the case with former National Team Doctor Larry Nassar. USAG was under fire for not protecting the athletes as their employees who worked in and around Nassar at the Karolyi Ranch failed to report or tried to cover up the incidences.

Lance believed he was wrongfully let go as he was innocent and began to prepare an appeal until he received devastating news about his mother. Dorothy had cancer and with that knowledge Lance shed the hard exterior he created, his arrogance cracking on the ground like shattered glass.

Lance returned to Spring Hill, taking up permanent residence to be closer to Dorothy and assist her with treatment. Lance sacrificed his career, having neither the time nor desire to make an appeal to USA Gymnastics, staying in the shadows instead to care for his mother, the woman who sacrificed so much during her life for him.

Eventually Lance needed a source of income as the money he previously earned through endorsements was dwindling quickly thanks to the expensive healthcare system. He refinanced his home to start a business, Tucker Gymnastics in the heart of his hometown.

While Dorothy battled cancer Lance found the strength to fight as well, finally appealing the committee’s decision with a motion to be reinstated. Lance’s decision to do so was not for himself but for his mother, wanting to make up for his past behavior when fame and arrogance became more important in his life. He sought to bring honor back to the Tucker name so that Dorothy would know how appreciative Lance was for all the sacrifices she made for him, though Dorothy didn’t need any of that. She loves her son wholeheartedly and she would do it all over again to ensure his happiness, knowing his love in return is all she ever needed.

Tucker Gymnastics is in its infancy but under the care and direction of Lance Tucker I have no doubt the gymnastics center will flourish. Lance has lived a lifetime of ups and downs both personal and professional. He’s an excellent teacher and coach, and future gymnasts will have an opportunity to learn great things from him.

However the greatest gift Lance can give to his future students is the knowledge of firsthand experience. Lance wants them to learn about the path to the top of the mountain and the sacrifices they will make along the way. He wants to provide guidance for when they’re at the top and how to safely get back down and avoid the mistakes he’s made.

The price of gold is high and Lance Tucker wants to ensure his students know the sacrifice it takes to pay it.◼️

Lance had been crying as he read the article, wiping his tears on his sleeve. He was overcome with emotion as you fondly recalled your memories of his childhood, painted his life honestly and above all unexpectedly praising his mother in a way no one else had done before.

It was beautiful. He sniffled, ripping a paper towel off the roll and blowing his nose with it. His heart ached as it beat against his chest wondering how he ever could have questioned you in regards to the phone call. His throat became dry so he quickly finished his sports drink, wiping the tears from his face once more.

Lance didn’t know what to do with himself now. He felt terrible and wanted to apologize. He wanted to speak with you, to fly to New York and hold you in his arms again. To tell you how much you meant to him, to tell you that he loves you.

He ruined things between you though. He was embarrassed with himself, he yelled at you for the first time in his life and he hated it. He yelled at you like his father yelled at his mother, raising his voice loud enough to talk over you, shouting from the pit of his stomach. He was cruel, just like his father, the comparison disgusts him. He didn’t deserve you.

Lance took a shower to clear his mind and after tossing and turning for hours he finally grabbed his phone from the nightstand, opening your message and briefly replying “Print it.”

The beeping of your alarm awoke you from the peaceful sleep you finally managed to fall into. The moment your eyes opened you went to your phone. You hated how eager you were to see if Lance responded but you had to. Seeing his reply made your heart race but as you read his message it stopped entirely.

Lance’s short reply brought tears to your eyes. At least Susan will be happy he’s going forward with the article but there was no mention of your apology even though you explained the truth. Maybe he still thinks you’re lying or maybe he doesn’t care. The fact that his response was all business made you painfully aware of the fact that whatever you and Lance had in the past is where it should have stayed.

Months passed and you were now in the middle of a new assignment that had you packed in a stadium in Nashville, Tennessee, with thousands of people celebrating as others criticized a controversial call made by the referee. It was a decision that led to the Pittsburgh Penguins winning the Stanley Cup finals. Though he is captain, Sidney Crosby is as soft spoken as they come. He exudes a calm demeanor one wouldn’t expect when you think of hockey players, especially not a back-to-back championship winner.

The Penguins were celebrating their win tonight and though Sidney was happy for his team he was looking forward to going home to Nova Scotia to spend time with his family. He’s a fairly private person, not feeling the need to be on social media. His Foundation serves as his online presence but only to promote the work it does supporting children. Though his Olympic wins are something he regards with fondness, his true pride was opening a hockey school in his hometown of Halifax.

There was so much of Sidney that reminded you of Lance and you couldn’t help but think about him. He was always on your mind and though you wanted to reach out in the past in the hopes of reconciling again you didn’t. Lance didn’t want you.

Adjacent to the arena was the hotel everyone was staying in, celebrating their win with a spread of food and champagne. Nashville was famous for its delicious barbecue but right now your mind and taste buds were being blown away by hot chicken. Your nose was running, your fingers were coated with a delicious glaze that you sucked into your mouth. Still, you needed a napkin.

You stood up in search for more, because the singular one you initially took was not enough, passing loud and slightly tipsy players who were enjoying their win. Feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket you rushed to clean your hands, answering your mom’s call just in time.

It was hard to hear so you told her to hang on as you squeezed past a group of very large hockey players. You found yourself in a less noisy hallway and finally greeted her properly.

“Hi mom, what’s up?” you shouted, sticking your finger in your other ear to block out the background noise.

Your mother exhaled a heavy breath into the phone, her voice shaking with sorrow as she said, “Dorothy Tucker passed away.”

PART 18

[seeklovenet]

2023 Secret Benefits Evaluate: How Courting Coaches Fee It

2023 Secret Benefits Evaluate: How Courting Coaches Fee It

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Find Sugar Daddy Best For You

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A Cute Sugar Baby From Chicago

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[inbtswethrrust]

MASTERPOST!

Hello I’m alive (barely!!!) I’ve decided to make this random masterpost (of yoonmin, for now) bc I feel really bad that I haven’t been able to be an active admin on here because Life(TM) and I’ve been too tired to go on tumblr :( So, here’s a bunch of stuff that I’ve read recently (never too tired to read fics amirite ha h a send help) and I hope you enjoy them! Drop a fanmail in the inbox and yell w/ me when you’re done!!! More random masterposts coming your way soon~

This is a long one my dudes, so all the juicy goodness under the read more :)

~YOONMIN~

Sleepovers in My Bed by baepce [T, 12k]

“You should just sleep here, hyung. It’s still raining hard.”

“Should I? My house is literally in front of yours though.”

The fingers in Jimin’s hair continue combing through the locks, soothing and gentle. Yoongi’s ministrations help him dip slowly into sleep. “Just listen to me, hyungie! I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.”

How can Yoongi say no to that?

; or Yoongi and Jimin get to know their selves, each other, and fall in love through a series of sleepovers.

Admin’s Note: SO GOOD!!!!!!! Friends to lovers always gets me especially when it’s one of those that start off as childhood friends it got me right in the heart strings

all the currents lead back to you by anyadisee [M, 19k]

Jimin doesn’t really lie so much as he chooses not to mention a certain truth to a certain witch, but he has his reasons. And they’re perfectly valid reasons, thank you very much, as a certain fairy and a certain half-human, half-pixie have constantly reassured him. Reasonable reasons. A surprise won’t exactly work if the person meant to be surprised gets a heads-up about it, after all.

Still, that logic doesn’t stop the little twinge of guilt in Jimin’s chest when he sees Yoongi’s text saying, Have a safe trip, I’ll see you in two days <3 (he even used a heart, Jimin thinks dazedly) when in fact Jimin a) is already out of Busan and has been crashing on Taehyung and Jungkook’s couch since yesterday, and b) will be seeing Yoongi not in two days, but just one. He just tries to shake it off by imagining the surprised look on his boyfriend’s face when he comes knocking on his door bright and early tomorrow, armed and ready for their first date.

And, wow. Their first date.

;;

[or in which jimin and yoongi finally go on their first date]

Admin’s Note: This is part of the moonlight on your skin, ocean in my veins series w/ witch!yoongi and mermaid!jimin and lemme tell u this is the fluffiest and sweetest thing I’ve read in a long time

What's Up, Buttercup by springrain21 [Not Rated, 14k]

Jimin meets Yoongi, the grumpy buttercup fairy, and proceeds to worm his way into his heart.

Admin’s Note: I was so surprised when I first read this because buttercup fairy???? What type of Soft am I gonna witness and then I was attacked by Actual Softness you won’t regret reading this (and squealing)

Love me this Christmas (and forever) by Imperatritsa [Not Rated, 12k]

Jimin had an album full of his most precious memories. He started it two years ago, going through his parent’s physical albums and his friend’s digital ones, picking all the pictures that made him smile bright enough to hurt his cheeks, the ones that made him feel warm, made him want to never stop looking at them because they brought back the sweetest memories.

Also all the Holidays he spent with Yoongi.

-

[or "childhood friends!au/friends to lovers!au where with each Christmas & new year's yoongi and jimin's feelings grow for each other"]

Admin’s Note: More friends to lovers!!!! This kind of reminded me of the sequel to When You’re In Love by jflawless bc of the photo album so if you liked that softness you’re gonna love this Trust

a gift wrapped in yellow by abdicar [T, 15k]

It was perfect.

Yoongi had taken a single look at it and decided that it was the ideal gift for Jimin. Yet, somehow, he managed to underestimate exactly how much his friend would love it - or how much Yoongi would resent having bought the damned thing in the first place.

(Or: the one in which Yoongi is Jimin's Secret Santa and gives him a really good gift which ends up backfiring. Or maybe not.)

Admin’s Note: More friends to lovers bc ohohohohoh also mutual pining and a super oblivious yoongi pls help him

Peach Kiss by BabyLove (sugamins) [T, 92k]

Includes:

Pepsi Cola Queens Hang On, Baby!

Admin’s Note: 80s!au and I suddenly feel the need to wear bell bottoms again

what the headlines don't tell you by anyadisee [T, 14k]

People call them Shadow and Hurricane.

Jimin calls them a pair of giant headaches, one a lot more so than the other.

;;

it's already difficult having a college-student-by-day, crime-fighter-by-night kind of lifestyle. jimin doesn't really need to be stressing over reckless fellow superheroes and crushing on cute bookshop workers on top of everything going on with his life, but here he is anyway.

Admin’s Note: Superhero au!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So good s o g o o d!!!!!! Warning: some violence but not anything super graphic or anything like that :)

in this blue light by anyadisee [T, 20k]

For a second, the dragon looks as though it's going to bump its head against Jimin’s palm, giving him the chance to graze his fingers over its glinting scales.

But then the second is over, and the dragon snorts instead, warm smoke coming out of its nostrils and blowing Jimin’s hair back. Then it turns around and goes back into its cave, leaving Jimin standing there and feeling like an idiot.

Taehyung appears by his shoulder seconds later, whistling lowly. “Well, that didn’t work. No worries though, Jimin! I’m going to find another way to get my necklace back. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here.”

Jimin says, “It laughed at me.”

Taehyung blinks. “What?”

“Taehyung, that dragon bastard laughed at me.”

;;

[or in which taehyung asks jimin, who has a calming aura towards animals, to help him get his necklace back from a dragon. only, it gets personal.]

Admin’s Note: This was so cute the dragon yall the d r a g o n

stay up (talking to the stars) by realitygetsdestroyed [t, 4k]

“Do you believe in the stars?”

Eight year old Jimin’s eyes bug out before he rapidly turns his body to Yoongi. “Do they have magic powers?”

Yoongi laughs, his chubby fingers rubbing against each other in order to get his blood circulating. “Sort of.” He looks up at the sky. “If you wish on some of them, they will grant that wish for you."

in which childhood friends yoongi and jimin stargaze every Christmas.

Admin’s Note: This was angsty but cute and growing up makes me emo

Sleepy by Whatev3rs [Not Rated, 1k]

After that, it's quite. Jimin starts getting very sleepy, and he's so comfortable right there, in Yoongi's bed, with his arms around the older's neck. So he doesn't realise it when his thoughts drift to his hopeless, hopeless feelings. And the illusion that everything was so perfect at that moment that he could get away with anything.

And before he realises it, he tips his head up and places a small kiss on Yoongi's neck, making the older's breath hitch and his own heart stop beating.

Admin’s Note: Non au gets me in the liver

After-school Deception by AriaHann [T, 7k]

She was the most beautiful girl Park Jimin had ever seen.

And yet, she was a strange girl. She was as tall as him, acted slightly boyishly, and had a deep voice. Her hobby was breaking other boys' hearts. Despite this, Jimin was only intrigued even further.

Jimin learned her name: Min Yoon(ji).

Admin’s Note: MIN YOONJI

Best Kept Secret by small things (lost_things) [E, 2k]

Yoongi is a lot of things, including something that A.R.M.Y. doesn't suspect. Jimin is a good dongsaeng in the best way possible.

Admin’s Note: who would i be if i didnt put any smut

soju and i love you by daegu1310 (jeonseokf) [T, 1k]

jimin is a star, yoongi wants to watch him shine.

My Soulmate Who Reads Smut by pseudo_nim09 [T, 2k]

Prompt: On some days, whatever your soulmate thinks of is something you can hear in your mind and your soulmate is currently reading smut fics and you’re trying so hard not to mess up this class presentation which shoulders half your mark for the semester.

Or

Where Yoongi is going to strangle his soulmate for reading some Taekook smut fic at a really shitty timing.

Baby Fever by sobermilk [E, 9k]

Jimin wakes up one afternoon feeling like he's been set on fire. Yoongi's not there to help him, so he helps himself instead.

I Swear by bramblejelli [M, 10k]

You gain a tally mark every time your soulmate swears.

Jimin swears like a sailor and Yoongi's never sworn a day in his life.

Bring On The Sunshine by smoljean [G, 42k]

With the help of their five year old "matchmaker" Taehyung, Yoongi and Jimin stumble into each other's lives. Cue the awkward, messy pining and dating adventures with a noisy kid in their way.

I blush every time I see you by dmingi [T, 10k]

After the incident, Yoongi the wizard and Jimin the water nymph met again at Santa's Christmas party where they share their first ever kiss.

Or

Magic AU where if you get stuck under the mistletoe, you wont be able to get out until you get kissed.

I Call Him Daddy (He Calls Me Baby) [Not Rated, 8k]

Jimin likes money. Yoongi likes fucking. They work out a deal.

Practice Makes by signifying_nothing [E, 4k]

the facts in the case of the unfortunate min yoongi: the Gay that Can't Suck Dick.  

i'm just going with the flow by arsen [T, 3k]

"I took advice from my friend and pretended to trip in front of you to get your attention except I fell harder than I thought and now my arm is broken can you drive me to the doctor please"

-

park jimin doesn't know if he should punch kim taehyung or thank him. kim namjoon either will go to jail or will be killed by kim taehyung and kim seokjin. min yoongi is confused and he takes advantage of namjoon's card, jung hoseok and jeon jeongguk just hangs around.

Yuletide Baby by MiniBunny [Not Rated, 12k]

With the help of their friends, Jimin and Yoongi realize their feelings for each other. And it goes a little too well.

Santa tell me (don’t make me fall in love again if you won’t be here) bySlytherintimelord [T, 4k]

- jimin, a 22 year old man, still believes in santa claus, and on christmas morning he finds a man not much older than himself sitting on his couch -

“At least you’re not like ‘Santa doesn’t exist’”, Mystery man whined and made air quotes, “I’m supposed to be the next Santa, but red is not a good colour on me. Also, I’m not short. And reindeers are useless in this day and age, when I can just ride a motorcycle or some shit. I mean, my grandfather was Santa, and he learned from this other old dude, and apparently I’m supposed pass down the lineage, but honestly, it’s a boring job-PUT THE BOOK DOWN,” hot mystery man yelled in panic as Jimin held the book up again from where his arm had lowered.

Minutes to Midnight by WeirdButIloveIt [Not Rated, 9k]

Park Jimin was your average fanboy: Poor, sleep deprived, and in love with someone who didn't even know he existed. A surprise Christmas gift may change that though, and maybe he was a little bit in over his head.

Yoonmin YouTuber AU

What I Like About You (Everything) by DIMPLEDJIMINIE [T, 3k]

After a long day for Jimin, Yoongi just wants to remind him why he likes or— loves him so much.

Yours by mochiJimin [Not Rated, 4k]

Jimin has a habit of not returning anything he borrowed from Yoongi. The older guy never complain tho until one day he did. And it just happen to be at the time when Jimin was drunk.

All I Want For Christmas (Is You) by ayumin [G, 6k]

So, yeah, it is likely that at some point in their lives everyone has had a crush on Jimin, or still has one, but at least Yoongi has the privilege of being one of his closest friends.

(Except Yoongi doesn't want to be Jimin's friend. Yoongi wants to kiss his neck.

And, unfortunately, it seems like his friends are very aware of that.)

No Spell Can Cure Shyness (except maybe love) byMissterMaia [T, 29k]

Yoongi really doesn’t expect the witchboy who sent him an accidental text to be the prettiest boy he's ever seen in all his life. Or the nicest. Or the kindest. Or just the best in every possible way.

Painfully shy and (un)smooth as he is, Yoongi decides the best way to approach this Jimin person is in the form of a cat. A cat who can't talk.

Great plan, Yoongi.

Admin’s Note: YA L L F L OOF TO THE M A X

Red's Big Bad Wolf by TheOrgasmicSeke [E, 31k]

Yoongi takes the journey to see his Nana once a week but ending up with a wolf stalking after him was the last thing Yoongi expected. Add in that the wolf is maybe the most gorgeous creature he has ever seen, and seems intent on making Yoongi his, just completes the list of problems Yoongi never wanted to have.

Or, Yoongi is Red Riding Hood and Jimin a rather gorgeous wolf who has easily fallen so very in love with him.

Admin’s Note: who’s cryin itsa me also i love yoongi’s grandma that is all

- A