apparently it is hilarious

anonymous asked:

Don't come back : )

Ohhhh…. Sorry I missed this request, nonnie! I was pretty lax about checking messages during the actual hiatus and I see this was submitted on June 14th: just before the original deadline, too!

Welp, I screwed up this request good and proper! The least I can offer is a pretty picture you might find engaging and applicable to the situation. 

Originally posted by dank-hanayo

The really fun thing about this gif is that it can be interpreted as either hello or goodbye. It’s a “come hither” gesture in Japan of course, but enough people are unaware or just ‘Murican enough to use it as a goodbye signal as well.

I’m sure it’s similar to the “coming and going” sensation you feel having your head stuck halfway up your own ass. 

Thanks for the feedback, nonnie! Aloha! 

(TRANS) MONSTA X for 韓流ぴあ (Hallyu Pia) Magazine (March 2017 Issue)

Q. Describe each other: SHOWNU
I.M: Soft both inside and outside. Manly and a ‘follow me’ type of person. The more you know him, the funnier he is and he gets the most laughs out of us.
Minhyuk: He becomes a beast when he is hungry.
Wonho: I call him ‘charisma hulk’.
Shownu: I’m shy, so I tend to hesitate or do things awkwardly. Apparently people find it hilarious.

Q. Describe each other: WONHO
Minhyuk: You can describe Wonho in one word: Sexy ♥ Whether he’s laughing or angry, he’s always sexy. I think it is because of his lips.
MONSTA X: (All agree)
Kihyun: The gap of when he’s talking and when he is not is huge.
Wonho: I won’t deny it.

Q. Describe each other: KIHYUN
Shownu: Bright, proactive, and always hard-working. Strict to himself.
Wonho: It is cool that he can make a meal just from what is in the fridge.
Kihyun: I am good at making Kimchi Jjigae, Ramen, and Pizza.

Q. Describe each other: HYUNGWON
Kihyun: As you can see, he’s good-looking and also a good dancer. He must’ve known since he was born he is handsome. 
Shownu: Really not a morning person.
Kihyun: He doesn’t wake up at all, so I gave up trying to wake him.
Wonho: If I tap him, he wakes up though…
Hyungwon: I’ve never considered myself as handsome. MONSTA X’s ikemen (T/N: Japanese for ‘handsome guy’) are Wonho and Kihyun… And then me (laughs).

Q. Describe each other: JOOHEON
Wonho: He is good at showing manliness and also great at rapping and dancing. He has a good personality and has the kindness to accept all the teasing we do to him. Music-wise, he is a member that I have a lot to learn from. Please anticipate Jooheon’s self-produced songs in the future!
Minhyuk: He has a lot of aegyo, and no one can do ‘Kku Kku Kka Kka’ as well as him.
Jooheon: Thank you… This is kind of embarrassing.

trans by @potatoestorm ; take out with full credit.

PLANETARY SPREAD (stolen from ladystardvst uwu)

1 - J1407B - What illusions are in my life?

2 - TrES-2b - What dark part of myself do I need to come to terms with?

3 - Exoplanet 55 Cancri e - What bright part of myself do I need to embrace more often?

4 - Gliese 436 b - What things do I say that contradict my actual actions?

5 - Gliese 581c - What habits do I have that may be more unhealthy than I’m willing to admit?

if you’re using this spread, feel free to take pictures and tag ladystardvst in it! All planetary and space themes ever belong to her. uwu If any of you use ideas based off of space or stars or planets, ur stealing from her!!! Donut steal!

Facebook Reveal

So I wrote a supercorp THING based on this post because it made me irrationally happy: 

(Original post here for credit)

I thought a facebook crack reveal would be hilarious and fun, and apparently so did a few of you SO, I did it. Enjoy <3 :) 

@supercorptrashed @nevertobeships @project-alice

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anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve getting catfished.

“Hey, so I can explain.”

 Steve looks up at the familiar voice he hears. “Bucky, why are you here?”

 Bucky sits down in the seat opposite Steve. He looks really nice- cute, actually. He’s wearing a powder blue button down shirt and a pair of khakis, both of them Steve’s pretty sure came from his closet. His hair is tied up at the back of his neck in a little knot and some of it is escaping, falling in front of his face as he slides his chair in. He tucks a strand of it behind his ears. “I told you I was about to, he says, sounding a little annoyed as he fluffs his napkin before sitting it down on his lap. “Well, I- uh-”

 “Bucky.”

 “Okay well first of all this is all your fault. Who doesn’t know who “The Rock” is?”

 “The what?”

 “The Rock, Steve. Dwayne Johnson? That’s who’s picture I used on my profile. You know the- really not ringing any bells for you? Huh. Okay. Guess you’ve been really living under a rock-”

 “Bucky.” Steve’s becoming less amused and more confused by the second. He raises an eyebrow in his friend’s direction.

 Bucky sighs before looking Steve in the eye for the first time since he’s sat down. “Well it was just a joke profile I made to mess with Sam. Obviously Sam knew right away and it was hilarious but apparently nobody ever taught you about anything good since you’ve been back. Then you messaged me and somehow managed to not figure out we were located in the same apartment. I don’t know, I kept figuring you’d figure it out and then before I knew what happened I had agreed to a date and-” he shrugs his shoulders, “it just got really out of hand.”

Steve blinks at him. He thinks that’s the most he’s heard Bucky say at once since 1945. Then it hits him, “I was flirting with you.”

“And I was flirting back, punk. I have eyes, you know and you’re easy on ‘em. Been easy on them for as long as I can remember now.” Then Bucky actually blushes and Steve finds himself being the one to look down at the napkin in his lap. His heart pounds, since this is the first time Bucky’s even hinted at remembering what they used to be. He takes a long slow breath to keep himself from smiling too hard.

“Well we might as well eat,” Steve says, breaking the tension a bit. “I hear the pasta here is good.”

“Sure. I didn’t steal these clothes from your closet for nothing.” Then after a moment, “Say, uh, do you really like to do that thing,” Bucky makes a vague gesture with his hands. It’s Steve’s turn to blush. He had honestly forgotten that he mentioned all that to ‘Dwayne’. He’d be actually embarrassed instead of flustered if he didn’t know for a fact that he and Bucky had done that quite a few times back when.

“With Dwayne? Definitely.” He’s still red as ever but manages to keep speaking, since doing that thing with Bucky sounds like the best thing in the world to him. “With you? Buck, I’m pretty sure you invented that move. You definitely taught me it.”

“Huh,” Bucky says, his eyebrows lift in surprise. “Care to be the teacher this time?” Bucky bites at his lower lip and okay, maybe they should just skip this date all together.

“I hear the pasta here is overrated, actually. We should just go home.”

Bucky smiles, “Dwayne agrees.”

@niels-bohred i was wrong actually the Historical Lams Waxplay Fanart is still there, for some inexplicable reason

— american candy (01)

pairing: reader x jeon jungkook
themes: smut / high school! au 
word count: 4.3k
summary: what’s a teenage house party without a few fun and games? you’re trapped in a bedroom with soccer star, jeon jungkook, for a whole thirty uninterrupted minutes — but apparently it only takes eleven for the two of you to get better acquainted.
( a/n: i’m still on the fence about making this a series, so if you guys want me to keep the kook smut train running - speak or forever hold your peace !! EDIT: this will be a series ! )

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cuties

6

More fem!Yuugi being cute, co-starring everyone else. Including the obligatory Puzzleshipping bridal-carry. Because it’s obligatory. 

The First Time

The first time James saw her, she was frowning. Stood by the Hogwarts Express, with her her fiery red hair plaited haphazardly into two braids, she appeared to be arguing with a blonde girl who he guessed must be her sister. He watched as the aforementioned blonde- who was wearing a particularly sour expression- sneered something at her and stormed off, leaving the red-head’s shoulders to slump as she hugged her parents goodbye. James wondered if her sister was always that stroppy.

The first time she laid eyes on him, he was laughing. Stood outside the compartment she was sat in with Sev, his hair a haphazard mess as he chatted with an aristocratic boy who looked liked he belonged to a rich family. He wore expensive robes and rounded glasses like her father did, but that didn’t fool her; she knew by their smirks that they were troublemakers- boys her mother warned her to stay away from- and Lily hoped they wouldn’t sit in her compartment.

The first time they scowled at each other, she was filled with pride as the hat called GRYFFINDOR! and he watched her hurry over to the table he was sat at. He wondered if she’d come and sit by him, but from the way her nose wrinkled as their eyes met, he figured she probably wouldn’t. Strange, he thought, as she glared up at him from the table. No one had ever disliked him before. He glared back anyway.

The first time they smiled at each other, they had just stopped Mulciber from hexing a Hufflepuff boy in their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Who knew two first years could pull off a Twitchy-ears hex on a third year? As he ran off, red-faced and clutching his ears, they couldn’t help but share a smile. They knew payback would most likely be coming, but they couldn’t help a small moment of victory.

The first time they argued with each other, it happened in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, and had something to do with Severus. No one really understood what had happened over the spitting of insults between the pair, but they couldn’t understand how James Potter wasn’t afraid of the furious red-head, (though he was secretly marvelling at the pretty girl who was surprisingly as sharp-tongued as Sirius). When wands were drawn, it was Remus who split it up.

The first time they laughed with each other was in third year. After two years of rivalry, it came as a shock to the whole of Gryffindor when Lily Evans and James Potter both burst out laughing at an apparently ‘hilarious’ expression Sirius Black was wearing. The disgruntled victim thought they’d been hit by a cheering charm, which only made the pair laugh harder. They went back to their feud the very next day.

The first time they were partnered up together was in potions class. She decided he was a ‘big-headed idiot’ as they bickered over which ingredients to put in the potion, and he refused to let her stir. He concluded she was a ‘right know-all’, but he couldn’t deny he liked her sarcastic streak- not that he’d ever tell her that.  A row ensued when their potion exploded all over their desk, and Slughorn decided he wouldn’t pair them up again.

The first time he asked her out had been in fourth year. It had sort of- somehow- slipped out mid-argument, and after surprise had flashed in her eyes she’d replied ‘never in your wildest dreams’. To cover up his disappointment, James had made it a running joke from then on, though his pride had been hurt for at least a month.

The first time they pranked someone together, their victim was Bellatrix. It had to be- it was, of course, her last day, and she definitely deserved it. The bucket of maple syrup and feathers had been James’s idea, but the finishing touch of the Tarantallegra charm had been Lily’s. James had stated she’d done a “Good job, Evans”, rather begrudgingly. She’d held back a grin.

The first time they snuck out together, it was to collect chocolates for Remus on his birthday, in fifth year. Lily had once stated she’d “never go under Potter’s invisibility cloak”, which he happily reminded her of multiple times on the journey. They may or may not have eaten some of the chocolate on the way back, but Remus didn’t mind. In fact, Lily had never seen him happier.

The first time they cried together was the sixth year, just before they left for Christmas, when James’s father had passed away. She’d found him by the fire and sat with him until morning, both pretending they weren’t scared of this war as they clutched hands. Lily visited him for the first time that holiday, with a bouquet of flowers for his mum.

The first time they got drunk together they played exploding snap in Lily’s dorm until three a.m. The game ended when Sirius and Marlene started making out a little too ferociously, and Peter passed out on the floor, snoring. Remus and James helped carry him back to their dorm and Lily went to bed with her heart beating quickly and a smile on her face.

The first time they went on a date, it wasn’t planned. Well, not by them at least. Their friends abandoned them, leaving them red-cheeked when they cottoned on. They’d gone to the Three broomsticks anyway, and laughed until they cried over a pitcher of butterbeer. James couldn’t help but feel he was falling completely, and Lily decided that maybe her heart had thawed a little for the boy she once loathed. Their friends wore smug looks for a fortnight afterwards.

The first time they kissed, it was Lily who initiated it, surprisingly. They’d been skipping around each other for weeks, and she finally had the guts to do it at a celebratory quidditch party when she was (more than a little bit) tipsy, and decided she had nothing to lose. It was sloppy and haphazard, but Lily thought her insides might explode. James wouldn’t stop grinning.

The first time he told her he loved her, they were seventeen. She was sprawled on the grass, a book in her hand and her hair fanning out behind her. He’d known it for a long time, he realised, looking at the concentration on her face. It seemed to slip off his tongue so easily that he didn’t even realise it had been said. Lily whispered it back as she entwined her hands around his neck and their lips connected.

The first time they had sex it was awkward and embarrassing, but pleasant at the same time. It wasn’t anything like they’d seen in muggle movies; there was giggling, (mostly on Lily’s part, much to the annoyance of James), and low murmurs of encouragement, but by the time they were done both were smiling. The second time was much, much better.

The first time they saw their baby, they were twenty years old. Lily never thought she could love someone as much as she loved James, but oh, how wrong she was. As they held their son between them, she never thought she could love anything quite as much as her two boys, with their messy dark hair and beautiful hearts. She thought her own heart might explode with the strength of her love.

The last time they saw each other she was cradling their little baby in her arms. And, as the wand was pointed at his face, no one could know how James wished he’d turned to look at her just one last time before she’d left the room- even though he didn’t really need to. As his eyes closed, a picture of her was burned into his mind, as bright as the sun.

Until they saw each other again.

Anonymous said: Hi i hope you feel better soon! Also, I was wondering if you do a group fic? Like maybe some of the 13rw characters playing together? the jocks, tony, clay, hannah, jeff, jessica, alex and reader playing truth or dare or spin the bottle and just pure shenanigans. It’s completely up to you. :)

Originally posted by hyruliano

GEN FIC X READER

“What the hell was Hannah thinking?” You mumble, clinging onto Tony’s arm tighter as the both of you walk up the sidewalk of Jessica Davis’ home. “I can’t walk in heels!”

“A.) They’re chunky heels, so I have no idea why you’re acting like a newborn giraffe and B.) I told you to change into the sneakers I had in my car.”

“Eat me, Padilla.”

Tony laughs out loud, stopping before the front door and looking at you in amusement. “Barking up the wrong tree here, Y/L/N.”

Glad to not have to concentrate on walking, you grin at Tony and set your chin on his shoulder. “Which is why I absolutely adore telling you these things,” you coo. “You know I only say them all in good fun.”

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Flood my (Christmas) Mornings

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Sweet Souls (Jamie tells Bree a story to get her to sleep) 

Here’s a link to another Christmas-themed scene written for Christmas 2016, along with a Brian and Ellen ficlet from @gotham-ruaidh!


December 25, 1950

‘Children laughing, people passing’

Laughing. That’s what one expects to hear from children on Christmas morning. 

Not a BLOODCURDLING SCREAM.  

Jamie and I went from dead-sleep to complete and utter panic in a single heartbeat, and staggered blindly to her room to find it empty. After a frantic ten seconds, we found her in the doorway to the living room, shrieking in delight at the Christmas tree by the fire.

I groaned in relief and clutched my belly, panting, but Jamie was faster to action. “Brianna Ellen Fraser!” His whole body electric with adrenaline, he snatched her up off the ground and made her look him in the eye.“You’re NOT to prowl around the house wi’out your mother or me, d’ye hear me? Ye stay in your room until we fetch ye.” He gave her a harmless but firm shake for emphasis. “D’ye hear?”

“But—but—Daddy, LOOK!” She contorted in his arms to loll her head back at the tinsel-clad tree. “CHRINSMINS!!!”

Jamie exhaled hugely and closed his eyes for a moment, as if forcing the fear and anger to exit his body. I rubbed his arm encouragingly and he made a small sound of acknowledgment before kissing Bree’s cheek. “Aye, Christmas, it is.” He set her back down on the floor and put his arm around my waist, the both of us looking down ruefully at our grey-hair-inducing progeny. “Ye like the tree, cub?”

“AYE!” Bree squealed emphatically, bouncing twice on the spot for joy before running over to examine it more closely.

Jamie and I had brought in the tree last night after she had gone to bed, making a happy, pajama-clad, fireside evening of getting the thing decorated as the snow gathered outside. We’d happily gorged ourselves on Mrs. Byrd’s iced gingerbread and guzzled apple cider as we festooned the branches with baubles and tinsel. Jamie, though he’d never before the 20th century heard of such a daft thing as bringing a live tree indoors and gaudying it up, seemed absolutely delighted by the overall effect—though in all honesty, it may have been the dollops of whisky he added to his cider. He kept on stepping back and proclaiming passionately, “’s’BEAUTiful!” 

A good portion of the tinsel ended up in our hair and clothing, for decorating inevitably turned into throwing and fits of helpless giggles; and, of course, icing was attack-smeared over faces as we laughed ourselves hoarse; and *naturally,* one thing led to another, AND we ended up on the ground, naked, covered in sticky sugar, and making sweet, sweet Christmas Eve love on the rug (an activity that doesn’t often make the carols and poems, that)(but pretty bloody festive, in my book). 

Jamie’s squeezing my arse into oblivion (as though also remembering our celebrations last night) was more than a little distracting as we fondly watched Bree, swaying as she stared in rapture up at the tree. “S’all—” she made a vague, sweeping gesture with both arms, and hopped up and down, “—all—HAPPY!”

I gave Jamie a squeeze back, laughing. “The tree makes you feel happy, lovey?”

Bree glared at me, ever the toddler-pedant. “It IS happy, Mama, see? See it?”

“You’re so right, baby. It’s a very happy tree.”

A quarter of an hour later, with mugs of tea and plates of toast with cinnamon butter, Bing Cosby crooned out Christmas tunes from the record player while the rest of us sat on the floor by the fire to open gifts.

Bree went first, of course, and her gasp of delight was nearly as alarming as the one that had awoken us in terror. “Issa TRAINNN!!” she squealed, pulling the wrapping paper loose with startling voracity. 

All in all, I would wager Jamie had just as much fun setting the wooden train set up as Bree, and she was having a jolly good time. Seeing the pair of them laying on their stomachs, choo-choo-ing along and causing disastrous (and apparently hilarious) collisions was a special kind of joy.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and leaned back against the face of the sofa, feeling—something in my belly. Not movement—it was far too early for quickening, but that bit of foreign pressure…yes, that was there.

 I can’t wait to meet you, little one, I said silently to my child. Hurry up and join us, alright? And I could have sworn the pressure responded. 

“Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” Jamie was handing me a lumpy parcel wrapped in brown paper.  

“Oh, darling!” I cried in delight a moment later, wrapping what turned out to be a sumptuous plum-colored wool scarf around my neck, “this is gorgeous! Wherever did you get it?”

“Made it.”

“…You MADE it??”

“Oh, aye,” he shrugged, oh-so-casually.  

I just bloody stared at him. “You….KNIT???”

“Aye…is it bad?” He was startled by the intensity of my shock and he looked both bewildered and slightly nervous. 

“NO—not at ALL, but—” I ran my fingers over the fine, neat rows of stitches. “I just—don’t think I’ve ever known a man that knits!”

“No? All highland boys do. Something to keep the hands useful while tending sheep or the like. Or, when there’s down moments at the barn not occupied by the lassies,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He grinned shyly. “Ye really like it?”

“I LOVE it,” I said, with complete sincerity. “Just you wait, all the girls at the hospital will be after you to make THEM one!” 

“Well, I’ll do what I can,” he said amiably, and I could tell he was gratified. 

“Lord, I feel foolish over your present now.” It was definitely NOT homemade.

He grinned. “I’m sure I’ll love it, mo nighean donn.” 

He did love it, in fact. The look of glee in his eye as he thumbed through the full-color special edition of Motor Trend (along with an indefinite subscription) made it clear just how much of a monster we’d created in letting Jamie get his hands on a car— Sorry, get his hands on BONNIE (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ). See? A monster.  He was vociferating passionately about one of the articles on new headlight trends for 1951, when both of our Parent Radar Senses pricked up. “Bree, what are ye doing, there, lass?” 

Bree was walking purposefully toward the foyer, and said only, “Somethin’” 

Jamie snorted with a laugh. “Ye dinna say!” 

“Loveyyyyy…. Tell Mum and Da what you’re doing, over there.” 

She didn’t answer, intent on reaching under the buffet cabinet by the door to grab for something, something that turned out to be a mailing envelope.  

“Why, you clever girl, spotting that!” I peered in vain to ascertain if it was a piece of incoming mail or outgoing. Regardless, it must have gotten pushed off the back of the cabinet by accident, and sat unseen for God knew how long. Hopefully it wasn’t an overdue bill or something urgent. 

“Aye, good work, cub. Can ye bring it here?” 

Pleased with her successful rescue mission, Bree skipped back to us and gave the letter to Jamie. He glanced at it for a minute, then grinned. “That’s a Christmas present for your Mama, a leannan.” 

“Oh? Another one?”

“No’ one that was planned, but I think it’ll be a welcome one, all the same.” 

“Heer’go, Mama,” Bree said, flinging it unceremoniously into my lap. Harvard University, the return address said. 

“Could be very much NOT a present, you know,” I said, seizing up and feeling like I wanted to vomit from anxiety. “In admissions, small envelopes are usually bad news, not good.” 

Jamie’s expression wavered a bit at that, but he gave a game sort of shrug. “Open it?” 

I slit open the envelope with a fingernail. God, these old fuddy-duddy bastards surely rejected me for being a married woman. Thank God, I hadn’t known I was pregnant at the time, for that surely would have been an automatic, No thank you. This rejection would be—

Accepted


It must have shown on my face, for Jamie was beaming from ear to ear as he crawled over to kiss me. “Well done, Sassenach!!” 

“It does say accepted, right?” I handed him the letter. “My brain isn’t making it up?” 

“Aye, there it is, right in black and white. ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been ACCEPTED.’ Bree, lass, your mother’s going to be a doctor! That’s exciting, aye?” 

“Yeah!!!” Bree said, though she was mostly focused on her trains. 

“More like I’m going to be a part-time organic chemistry and biology student,” I said, but practically bubbling over with relief. I’d been expecting that goddamn letter WEEKS ago! “Just the two prerequisites, but…” BUT STILL! 

“I’m so proud of ye, lass,” he said, beaming. “Happy, happy Christmas, mo ghraidh.”  

Place Your Bets (George Weasley x Reader)

I apologise for both Fred and George being in the gif it was nearly impossible to find one of George on his own that isn’t him with his ear blown off :(

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count: 2.8k

Requested: Yes! @rjdedun


It was when Fred was incredibly solemn upon his return to the Gryffindor Common Room one night that George figured that something was wrong with him. He had never seen Fred in a mood as bad as the one he was in, he was not interacting with anybody and struggled to smile; he even told George to “grow up” after he suggested pranking somebody. George needed to know why he was so upset and down in the dumps, so he took his brother to the Quidditch stands and sat in the stalls with him, just the two of them, and spoke to him.

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becoming mr sugden

ao3 link

three times aaron was accidentally called mr sugden, and one time he wasn’t.

i. (the first time)

The first time someone accidentally calls him Mr Sugden, it throws Aaron. Sure, he’d heard Robert call him Mr Sugden a hundred times, in so way different ways - in that low, sultry, come to bed voice of his, in soft whispers over breakfast in the morning, but it sounded so different coming from the voice of a nurse at Hotten General.

“Mr Sugden? Your husband is finished up with the doctor,” she said, offering him a kindly smile.

Aaron’s too worked up to correct her, too worried about Robert to even really register that his name wasn’t Sugden. “Is he alright?” he asked, following her down the busy hallway.

He’d gotten a phonecall from the hospital to tell him Robert had been involved in a car accident, and he didn’t remember much more after that. Aaron had just grabbed his car keys and gone, driving over the speed limit the entire way from Emmerdale to Hotten.

He hadn’t thought much of not hearing from Robert for a few hours, knowing his husband was prone to spending hours schmoozing new clients during their initial meeting - Aaron had figured Robert would text when he could, so to get a phonecall from Hotten General to say he was hurt, he hadn’t exactly been prepared.

“He’s fine, just a bit shaken up I think,” she said. “Just a few cuts and bruises.”

Aaron let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as he’d sat, waiting to find how how Robert was. He was okay, he was fine - Robert was fine. He followed the nurse into the ward, Robert sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a gash on his forehead.

“Robert.” Aaron practically breathed his name, studying his face carefully, counting every new scratch and bruise. A cut across his nose, a bruise on the underside of his jaw, a lengthy gash on his forehead.

His self confidence would take a beating, until they healed.

“I’m okay.” Robert reassured, reaching out to squeeze Aaron’s hand, his grip tight. “A learner driver took the corner too fast, slammed into me. I’m fine, I swear - just a few cuts and bruises.”

“And a sprained wrist,” another nurse piped up, holding a clipboard close to her chest.

Aaron looked at Robert’s left hand, his wrist strapped up tightly in a support. “It’s nothing major, at least?” he said, an almost hopeful tone to his voice.

“Nothing serious.” Robert confirmed, still looking a little shaken. “I can’t say the same for my car though, the driver door is mangled.”

“As long as you’re okay,” Aaron murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of Robert’s head, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo, the lingering scent of his cologne.

He hated to ever feel as though he was going to lose Robert, lose this, lose them.

“Mr Sugden?”

“Yeah?” Aaron and Robert said in unison, the two of them looking at each other in shock as the nurse laughed. `

“The Mr Sugden who was in the car accident,” she teased, paperwork in hand. “Sign here, and you’re free to go.”

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