broken-toe

Aelin has two moods:
  • Aelin: *stubs her toe while walking badassly like her swag self*
  • Aelin: *contines walking even though she is dying on the inside and may have broken her toe. Aedion may have gasped*
  • OR
  • Aelin: *stubs her toe*
  • Aelin: F*** B**** AHHH S*** G** P**** W****** C**** I'M DYING HELP ME ROWAN AGH *screams and hops around on one foot crashing into all of the furniture*
  • Rowan: *sighs* *walks over to Aelin, calmly dodging the flaming table and carries her over to the bed where she dramatically faints*
Jealous much

(A/N): I decided why the hell not do a poly relationship?

Request:  Can you do an imagine where the reader loves Bucky/Steve, but he has a girlfriend and when the reader decides to move on he gets jealous or something ? ( please make it angst at first and then really fluffy at the end ) thank you 😊

Warnings: jealous super soldiers, swearing

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018,  @holland-toms,  @superwholockian309@fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor, @livandlilah


Originally posted by marvxl-trash

   You sip at your drink sadly, your spirits had been depleted hours ago and all you wanted to do was go to your room and sleep until Sunday but seeing as how this was Bucky’s 100th birthday that would be rude. So now here you were, drinking all alone in the corner of Tony’s bar as everyone danced and had a fan-fucking-tastic time, or more specifically Bucky and Steve.

   You wanted to growl in annoyance when you looked over at the rugged super soldiers, all tall and thick and- God no, you needed to stop thinking like that. They were your teammates for Christ’s sake and here you were, ogling at them. It’s not like it would ever work out anyways…they had girlfriends and damn good looking ones too. Steve had Sharon, beautiful, slender, badass Sharon and Bucky had some girl named Dot, some cute curly red haired, green eyed innocent little thing and well- you had no one but yourself and a bottle of scotch.

   With a dry chuckle you drink another shot, allowing the burning liquid to soothe your pain.

   You had no right to be jealous, they were never yours to begin with, what made you feel entitled enough to dictate who they dated or fell in love with? The last one sticks to your tongue, making the burning in your throat a million times worse.

   What if Bucky and Steve both fell in love with someone other than you? What if they settled down, finally started a family, and you never got the chance to tell them how much you loved them? Tears begin to pinprick your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, this was a joyous occasion, it was Bucky’s big one hundred for fucks sake, you couldn’t cry now but you could drown your sorrows in your lovely scotch. You take another swig of the burning liquid, allowing it to simmer in your mouth before gliding down your throat, leaving an even more unpleasant burning feeling. You cough a but, trying to rid your throat of the horrid burning when suddenly there’s a hand upon your shoulder, grasping it gently.

   “Heya,” You look back only to come face to face with a stranger- but a rather attractive one at that. “I’m Brent,” You smile to the best of your ability, cringing lightly at yourself.

   “I’m (Y/N),”

   “(Y/N)’s a very pretty name,” You blush a bit. God, you were blushing, how sad are you?

  “Thank you,”

   “So um- I saw you over here drinking scotch alone and I thought maybe you’d like to go dancing with me?” You let your eyes linger on the man, brown hair, blue eyes, a gorgeous jaw and the perfect height; he was like the love child of Steve and Bucky himself and you were more than attracted to him.

   “I can’t promise I won’t step on your feet,” Brent chuckles as he takes your hand in his, gingerly as possible as though you were made of porcelain.

   “A few broken toes is no big deal,” You laugh as you make your way to the dance floor, the intoxicating music slowly starting to get to you. All around people were dancing, some more reserved but for the most part everyone was grinding on each other, having a damn good time and well- you deserved to have a damn good time too. Immediately Brent’s hands settle upon your waist as you slowly begin to move to the best of the music. A little grind here, a little grind there. Before you know it the two of you are practically dry humping and amidst other people as well. It felt so dirty but it felt oh so right too. You bite your lip as you allow yourself to succumb to the moment, to let yourself finally be free of anything other than Brent’s hands upon your waist and the way his cock ever so deliciously-

   “(Y/N).” There was a dangerous growl, low and throaty and more than intimidating. You slowly open your eyes, feeling rather drunk on the music and Brent, and you slowly focus in on the two figures ahead of you, each one with their arms folded over their chest in an almost defensive manner. “(Y/N), can we talk to you? In private-” It was Bucky. It was Bucky and Steve both standing there, staring at you disapprovingly. Oh god- what had you done? What was wrong? Did they somehow did out about your love for them? Or maybe it was something worse?

   A million thoughts start swimming through your mind as you slowly step away from Brent, giving him a soft apology before stepping up to the two super soldiers.

   Their gaze upon you was scary, a dark almost predatory like look to them. You’d seen this look a thousand times before, usually directed at Tony or some enemies but never you. God- to get them to look at you like that meant you had to have done something horrible. Guess you’d be finding out in a few minutes… 


   The elevator ride up to Bucky and Steve’s shared floor was tense, with one soldier on either side of you, making you feel small and rather childlike. There was an almost angry air surrounding the two of them and it scared you more than anything.

   You replayed the last week in your mind, trying to figure out what you had done wrong. You had done all your training sessions, every mission was a success, you had bought Bucky a birthday present; what else was there that you could have messed up? Your throat runs dry as the elevator dings and both soldiers make their way out, thus forcing them out with you.

   “You guys-” your voice is shy and timid at best. “What’s going on? Why are you so angry?” Both Steve and Bucky chuckle, shaking their heads as though they were amused.

   “You really don’t know why were angry?” Bucky’s tone sends shivers down your spine, and not the pleasant kind either.

   “N-no,”

   “How about the fact you were essentially fucking some stranger right on the dance floor, does that ring a bell?” Steve’s tone is just as dark and it scares you more than anything else.

   “I-I’m sorry, everyone else was doing it, I-I thought it was okay,”

   “All that man was trying to do was get down your pants,” For some reason now is when your nerves return, full force at that too. You went from scared and helpless to confident and angry in only a matter of seconds.

   “And why do you care Rogers? Maybe you should focus less on me and more on that girlfriend of yours,” Steve growls as he suddenly lunges for you, pinning you to the wall behind you.

   “What if I don’t want anyone down these pants, hmm? What if I want you all to myself, ever thought of that?” You gulp as you look at Steve, at the dark look upon his face and the intimidating look in his eyes. “What if Bucky wanted you, what then? What if we both want you but you’re too fucking oblivious to all our attempts?” You look to Bucky who shares the same look with Steve, dark and intimidating.

   His words don’t even set in for a few moments as you play them over and over again in your head, mulling each word, syllable, and vowel meticulously.

   "Wait…you both- you both want me?”

   “Fuck yes,” Bucky growls, his voice lower than you had ever heard. “Wanted you since the moment we laid eyes on you doll,” You squirm withing Steve’s grasp, looking between the two men uncomfortably. It wasn’t exactly nice to be pinned by Steve or to have him and Bucky glaring straight daggers at you.

   “What about Sharon and dot?”

   “No,” Bucky shakes his head. “They don’t count- they’re not you, they’re not as special,” You gulp as Steve’s face looms over you, his rather scary gaze only making your heart rate increase.

   “This isn’t some kind of sick joke?” You whisper timidly, a bit too scared to know the answer. If Bucky and Steve were lying that meant a world of heartache for you but if they said yes that meant a million other things- two personal furnaces to keep you warm at night, more coffee to make in the mornings, more love to share and receive-

   “No, how many times do we have to say that we want you (Y/N)?” Steve’s voice is right beside your ear, sending almost pleasurable sparks up your spine.

   You sigh shakily as his words finally set in, Bucky and Steve wanted you, the two men you’d fallen in love with wanted you just as much as you wanted them. Steve goes to say something else, his lips in a near snarl when you pounce upon him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him tightly. The man must have been thoroughly taken back by your sudden moves but only a moment passes before he’s melting into your embrace, any trace of anger having immediately been wiped from his system.

    “You can get in on this too Bucky,” You mumble from your place in Steve’s neck. There’s an almost disbelieving chuckle and suddenly another pair of arms wrap around you, making the hug that much better. Bucky’s head nuzzles against yours and your unable to stop the happy chuckles that falls from your lips as Bucky sweetly kisses your lips, soothing any nerves or fear you previously had.

   “Save some for me Barnes,” Steve chuckles as Bucky breaks away, licking his lips deliciously. Without a moment to waste Steve kisses you, his lips just as soft and sweet as Bucky’s. at this point you felt high on whatever was in the air right now, lust? Love? Whatever it was you were definitely feeling it but the sudden thump of music floors below you pulls you out if your almost high. You pull away from Steve, much to his dismay.

   “Bucky, what about your party?” Bucky smirks as he takes your hand, gently guiding you out of Steve’s embrace and down a hall.

   “I was thinking we could have a little party Of our own,” The soldier gives you a little flirtatious wink.

   “But what about everyone else and-”

   “What birthday boy wants birthday boy gets, right?” You nod your head, biting your lip. “And I want you naked and on my bed in a minute, you Better be ready for us doll,” Bucky smirks as he gives your ass a light smack as you walk into his bedroom, more like jump into the room due from the almost heart attack Bucky caused you. “One minute doll,” Bucky gives you one last wink as he closes the door, leaving you to get ready for not only him but Steve as well.

   You bite your lip as your fingers tremble to remove your shirt. You didn’t even know what you were to Bucky and Steve, special, you knew that much but that was it, there was nothing else to go on. But one thing was for certain at this point; this was going to be one hell of a night.

~Extended ending~

    Two pairs of arms wrapped around your waist snugly, two warm chest pressed against you, one to your front and one to your back. You hum softly as you nuzzle into the closest body; Steve. His warmth radiated off his body in waves, overtaking the freezing room and keeping you more than warm. Bucky was pressed behind you, his scruffy face nuzzled into your neck, his breath gently hit your skin as he breathed in and out.

   You groan softly as you try to stretch your limbs but with two super soldiers glued to you that was kind of hard.

   “Bucky- Steve,” You poke each man’s cheek in an attempt to wake them up. “Come on, I gotta go make breakfast,”

   “You don’t have to make breakfast,” Bucky whispers into your neck as he pulls you a little closer. Apparently a poke to his cheek had been enough to wake him up unlike Steve who was now burrowing into your chest like a dog or cat of sorts. “You can lay in bed with us for the rest of the day,” You smile softly as Bucky kisses your ear, his lips barely fluttering against your skin.

   “So no coffee or bacon?”

   “There’s that pancake house down the road, once Steve gets his lazy ass up we’ll go there, sound good?” You go to reply when suddenly an equally sleepy voice penetrates the air, making both you and Bucky chuckle softly.

   “I’m awake you ass,” it was times like these, when the three of you could simply be- no worry of the media or the other avengers, no worry about hydra or aliens from other dimensions- that you realized you loved your boys more than anything in the world.

Well That Hurt

Send me “ ☹ ”, and I’ll generate a number between 1-75 to see where/how my muse is injured. Send “ ☹ ⇋ ”, and it’s your character living the pain. The third option would be “ “ to have both wounded (in which case first generated number will be for my muse and second for yours).

Tw for possible blood and gore! Please be mindful of your partner’s possible triggers that might only apply to a couple of these.

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8

gifset aesthetic = bonnie bennett ♡ it’s day 278 inside this stupid prison world. i have two broken toes, nine blisters, and an ear infection, but i don’t care. i have phesmatosed the crap out of this magic canadian rock, and i have my magic again. and when that eclipse hits 12:28, i’m going home. you hear that, me? home.

anonymous asked:

WRITE PART TWO TO THE CAR ACCIDENT FIC IM DYING

I don’t know how much of this is accurate, but I tried.


The Accident (Part 2)


Jughead slowly opened his eyes, disoriented.

He spotted Archie and Fred Andrews sitting in chairs by the wall. Archie’s head was in his hands and Fred was staring at the ground.

Jughead tried to clear his throat to get their attention. His whole body felt heavy, as if something was tying him down to the bed.

“Where’s Betty?” He whispered. His voice sounded hoarse, his throat raw.

Archie’s head popped up at the sound, letting out a sigh of relief. “Christ, Jug, you scared us.”

“Where’s Betty?” Jughead asked again, not giving the slightest thought about his well being.

Archie looked down, then scratched the back of his ear. “She’s uh-“

“Just tell me, Archie, what did I do?” Jughead rasped.

“She’s in surgery right now, Jug. She was on the impacted side of the car, so it was worse for her.”

Jughead bit the inside of his cheek, choking down a scream. “She’s going to hate me. She’s going to hate me, Archie, what have I done?”

Archie shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I almost killed her, Archie, she’s… she’s, I-“ Jughead’s vision started to blur at the corner of his eyes. He felt short of breath, trying to gulp in air. He started to tremble. “I-“

“Jughead? Are you okay, what’s happening?”

Fred stood up from the chair, looking at Jughead’s shallow breathing, his paleness. “I think he’s having a panic attack.”

“Jughead, breathe, it’s okay.”

Jughead shook his head, tears leaking out each eye.  

Fred took Jughead’s hand. “Jughead, breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe with me. In. Out. Your dad is going to be here any minute.” Fred said, trying to distract him. “You’re in control, Jug.” Fred reminded him, trying to put him at ease. “Breathe, in. Out.”

Jughead felt marginally better. “What happened to Betty?”

“She has some internal bleeding, Jughead.” Fred started. “She has a couple broken ribs, a broken wrist. As long as they get the bleeding under control, she’ll be okay.”

Jughead nodded, feeling the pain in his chest.

“And you?” Archie said, as if reading his thoughts. “Severe bruising on your chest from the steering wheel, you got stitches in your head from the roll over. You’ve got some cuts on your face. A broken toe. You’re not in bad shape, dude.” Archie said, trying to lighten Jughead’s mood.

“I almost killed her on our first date.” Jughead said, tearing up again.

Archie shook his head. “The truck that hit you ran a red light. He was looking at his phone.” Archie gently squeezed Jughead’s shoulder once again. “Like I said, dude, not your fault.”

“I still should’ve been paying better attention.” Jughead murmured as the Doctor walked into the room.

“You’re awake!” He said seriously. “How are you feeling, Mr. Jones?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Jughead deadpanned. “When is Elizabeth Cooper going to be out of surgery?”

“Hopefully soon. Good thing you two were wearing your seatbelts.” The Doctor gave a half smile, looked at Jughead’s chart, then left the room.


Hours later, after Jughead finally convinced the Andrews men to leave the room and eat something, after his routine check-up by a nurse, Jughead gingerly swung a leg off the bed.

It felt like it was weighed down by bricks. His muscles were killing him.

He took another breath and swung the other leg over. He checked his hospital gown, making sure it was tied in the back, then grabbed his fluids and lead it out of the room.

There wasn’t anybody at the nurses station outside of his room. He walked around the desk to find a list of patients, hoping to find who he was looking for – no such luck.

He looked over his shoulder carefully, wincing, then wiggled the mouse attached to the computer, waking the screen.

A search bar immediately popped up. He typed in Cooper.

533

He mentally high-fived himself. They were on the same floor, a couple rooms apart.

He dragged his fluid carrier down the hall with him, looking for signs of nurses or Doctors to stop him.

He peered into her room. Betty was laying in the bed, face towards him. Her eyes were closed, cuts from the broken glass littering her face.  Blood was streaking her hair. He could tell the nurses had tried to clean her up, but she hadn’t had a shower or bath yet, obviously.

The blankets were pulled up to her neck, her broken arm slung over the top. It was freshly cast, bruises peering out the top.

Tears pricked Jughead’s eyes again as he walked towards her. He took a sharp breath, winced, then gently pushed the hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Bets. I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you.”

He ran a hand down her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Betty’s eyes opened gently. “Hey you.” Her voice sounded hoarse, too.

“Oh, God, Betty. I’m so sorry.” Jughead murmured.

“Hey, stop.” Betty whispered. “It was the other driver. It had nothing to do with you.”

“But look at you. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be lying here.”

“Jughead, stop beating yourself up. I’ll be okay.”

“Betty –“

She cut him off. “Stop. I still had one of the best nights of my life, Jughead.”

Jughead looked down at the floor.

“Come here,” She whispered.

He lowered himself closer to him, then realized she wanted a kiss.

He gently placed one on her lips.

“Think they would let us share a room?” She murmured.

Jughead laughed, then winced. But it was worth the pain.

cosmopolitan.com
7 Behind-The-Scenes Secrets About the New Beauty and the Beast Ballroom Scene
Courtesy of choreographer Anthony Van Laast.

For the new live-action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, Disney turned to legendary choreographer Anthony Van Laast, whose resume includes everything Mamma Mia (stage and film) to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 1. To get Emma Watson and Dan Stevens ready for their iconic ballroom scene as Belle and Beast, Van Laast had them learn the basics of waltz. To his surprise, Van Laast also had to choreograph the movements for “Be Our Guest,” even though it was mostly CGI. The process, which included inspiration from real-life dancers, a storyboard artist, and motion capture, took about six months. “I’ve seen so many animated films [with people dancing] and never really thought about it, but of course they must have used a choreographer and I thought, Christ, I’m the choreographer of this iconic piece in Beauty and the Beast,” Van Laast said in a recent phone call from England. “This was the one thing that caused me more sleepless nights than anything… I think when you see the film, you’ll understand the complexity of the number. There are knives in the air, there’s food coming and going.”

Here, Van Laast reveals the intricacies of putting together a ballroom scene, especially when someone’s toes are on the line.

1. Dan had to practice dancing in platform shoes. “For the big ballroom scene, it was absolutely him, [but] they had to have the height difference for when they danced. She had to be a lot smaller than him. He had to wear platform shoes that were quite difficult to dance in. First he learned how to waltz, then he had to learn the routine, then he had to learn how to do the routine in platform shoes, then he had to dance with Emma in those platform shoes.”

2. Emma rehearsed with 1 lb weights on each of her wrists to help her with her posture for the waltz. “[This was] so she would hold her arms in a certain way. She got used through rehearsal to moving with a big skirt, and she never complained about it.”

3. Dan could have broken Emma’s toes making the movie. “It was a matter of posture and how you hold your back. The big thing for Dan was, because he had these great big clodhoppers on his feet, not to tread on Emma’s feet… I know that as far as she was concerned, she was always a little fearsome of her feet trodden on, and he was a little fearsome of treading on her feet. It was a very complicated routine.”

4. Dan had extra training because of the awkward Beast postures. Every morning at 6:30 a.m., “someone would come and do exercises and yoga with him, just to keep his body free.” Emma, on the other hand, was already “really fit” because she already does yoga. “She’s a very good mover.”

5. Technicians and camera crew clapped and congratulated Emma and Dan when scene wrapped. “[This also happened] at the read through, which was in front of hundreds of people. Emma just jumped up. Everyone was thrilled.”

6. The lift is all about Emma. “It’s all about how the woman holds her body that enables the man to lift her. It was about working with Emma, teaching her how to hold herself so she was ‘liftable.’ The hardest thing is being put down and moving in the right direction after being put down.”

7. A Pharrell classic was the source of celebration during filming. “When we finished shooting the last dance [scene] in the film, someone put on ‘Happy’ and the cast and all the crew had a party.”

Today, I fucked up... by flicking my hair

So this morning I jumped in the shower and decided to wash my hair. I have very long and curly hair that reaches midway down my back. However, once its wet the curls straighten out and my hair almost reaches my bum.

So hair is wet, shampooing done and I just need to rinse. I tip my head back and flip my hair over my shoulder ala shampoo adverts everywhere. And feel something brush against the top of my bum. Being the mature and logical gal I am, I came to the one and only possible conclusion.

Spider

With a scream a howler monkey would be proud of, boobs flying and looking like some sort of demented mermaid, I attempted to flee the shower stall. And promptly acquired a new skill; the ability to do the splits.

This in itself was a spectacular feat of physics as there isn’t actually enough room in my bathroom for a toddler to do the splits, never-mind a 5'9" half drowned rat. As a result, when my leading foot came into contact with the toilet pedestal my body was launched back along the floor towards the shower. This left me wedged between the toilet and the shower tray.

Where I was abruptly bitch-slapped by the shower door.

One trip to A&E later and I have a sprained ankle, a fractured ankle, two broken toes, a beautiful rainbow of bruises in some interesting places and a partridge in a pear tree.

TL, DR: Upon learning that my hair now reaches my bum I; preformed gymnastics worthy of Rio, made the laws of physics my bitch and took a guided tour of the local hospital.

Another fuck up in the updates…

Keep reading

Life With Namjoon (03. Hiccups)

<– [01] [02] |

A/N: Here’s the third installment~ I’m thankful a lot of you seem to be liking this series ^^ It’s actually quite enjoyable to write for me too~

Not to mention, this story shows how soft I really am compared to all the smut I write OTL;;

Words: 2,513


03. Hiccups


For the most part, Namjoon’s home is your apartment, and, thankfully—for the most part—the boys and BigHit staff are accepting of that. Of course, at first Namjoon’s manager had laid down ground rules—don’t go out in public together, and if that can’t be avoided, then no PDA. No spending the night (that rule had quickly been broken)—which then lead to “no unprotected sex” at which Namjoon had blushed bright red and quietly told his manager that “I’m a 22 year old idol. I know what I’m doing, have a little faith in me.”

Those rules and boundaries had been set in place quite a while ago, and since then you’d grown on everyone. Not that you’d been trying to butter them up or anything! (Though you had only on desperate occasions) But…you’d just been yourself. And over time the staff had warmed up to you.

So had the boys. They’d all needed a bit of time to get used to the idea of their leader dating someone. They worried about rumors, angry fans, if it might distract Namjoon from their dream as idols, etc. It was…tough, so both you and Namjoon had promised to not deter the group from their current goals. You had seriously sworn to them that BTS as a whole is important to you, and that the last thing you would ever want is to get in Namjoon’s way or theirs.

They believed you, a bit shocked by your resolve, and from that day forward had opened up their hearts to you little by little. Now those hearts are open so wide they’ll never be able to shut you out—but they’ll probably never tell you that to your face. It’s kind of embarrassing, after all.

“Oh? Noona?” Jungkook questions in surprise when he pulls open the door to their dorm. The boy is dressed in a black tank and a pair of dark gray sweats, a backwards baseball cap hiding his newly dyed blond hair.

“Hey there,” you smile, scooting around him and playfully poking at his showing bicep, which is hard to the touch. “Wow, hello to you too,” you say jokingly to the muscle, and Jungkook’s ears turn pink.

“Ahh~ Stop teasing. You know we’ve got a comeback soon!”

“I know~,” you laugh in response, and Jungkook cracks a smile.

“That’s why you’re here, right?” Yoongi’s voice pops in, and you look up to see the entire gang, minus Namjoon, heading towards you. “To watch your destructive boyfriend?”

Jin laughs when you sigh. “He hasn’t been hurt in a while, so we can’t stay too mad. Doctor says he’ll be ready to start practicing again in the next week or so.”

“But rest is important~,” Taehyung chimes in, looping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into his side gently, his version of a casual hug. You laugh quietly.

“The rest of you better not get hurt at practice today.”

“You’re damn right,” Hoseok mumbles somewhat jokingly as he pulls on a pair of shoes. “As the dance leader I can’t have any more of my men dropping out!”

“This isn’t the army, hyung,” Jungkook comments, eyebrow cocked with amusement. Hoseok then stands up and jumps at the maknae, clinging onto him as he jokingly beats the boy down, both lost in their own fit of laughter.

“Ahh~! Guys let Y/N in already!” Namjoon’s voice whines from the other room, and Jin rolls his eyes.

“He’s been restless the last couple days, so he’s glad you’re here. Keep him company while we’re gone, ok?”

“Can do,” you assure him with a smile, and he kindly smiles back.

Stepping to the side, you allow the boys some space as they all pull on their shoes and jackets, shuffling out of the dorm in order to head to the dance studio. They exit with multiple dismissive farewells, and only once the door is shut and their voices quietly migrate down the hall do you turn and finally head into the dorm.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon mumbles when he sees you. Love immediately fills your heart at the sight of him—despite the fact that he’s currently lying back-down on the couch, his foot propped up on a pillow.

“I don’t know how you managed to break your fucking 4th toe, of all things,” you grumble, smiling despite yourself. Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand once you’re stood next to him.

“Kiss?” he questions, pursing his lips innocently. You stare down at him, entwining your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth slightly.

“Have you earned it?”

“I’m injured—are you really going to talk to me as if I’m your sub?”

“Does asking if you’ve earned it constitute dom/sub speak?”

Namjoon blinks. “I mean I’ve asked you that question before, haven’t I?”

You drop your gaze blankly to the fabric of his shirt, contemplating. On multiple occasions you can recall him asking you a question like that—what an asshole. He always makes you beg.

“You enjoy being a dom too much,” you grumble, and Namjoon chuckles, tugging on your hand. You easily give in, bracing one of your knees on the couch cushions as you lean over and kiss him slowly. He hums contently against your lips.

“You enjoy me being a dom too much too~”

You feeling him smirk, and with a small huff you pull back, smacking his chest lightly. His grin only widens endearingly when he sees your slightly embarrassed face.

“Stop~,” you whine, nuzzling your face against his chest. Typically you don’t get embarrassed talking about your and Namjoon’s sex life, but when he teases you like that—gosh, you can’t help it. Especially when his words immediately cause memories to flood to your mind. And you know he’s right—you do love it. God, he’s so good to you…

“Is your mind in the gutter? You haven’t moved in a quick minute,” Namjoon asks, and when you look up at him his eyebrow is raised in question. You hum, rubbing you cheek against his chest, and he pets his hand over your hair.

“Maybe.”

“Well…we are here alone,” he says, eyes trailing you as you sit up, pushing back to your feet.

“True, but—you’re injured, remember?” you grin, lifting his hand to kiss his fingers, and then release him. Namjoon sighs regretfully, reaching over to grab his phone off the coffee table as you head into the kitchen.

“It’s a broken fuckin’ toe,” you hear him grumbling, and you snicker. “My dick ain’t broken…”

“Debatable!” you call back, laughing brightly at the “Yah!” he shouts in return.

Opening the fridge, you peek around, pulling out a few left over carry-out containers. There’s also a few scraps from Jin’s home-cooked meals, which you’re sure would be delicious, but you know Namjoon is picky sometimes.

“Hey, what time is it?”

“An acceptable time for food, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Namjoon calls back, and you glance around the corner to find him taking cheesy selfies to post on Twitter. Smiling, you quickly run up and kneel on the ground beside the couch, shoving your cheek against his.

“Yah,” he says, but immediately laughs, his eyes creasing happily as he lifts his phone back up and snaps a few shots of you both. The final photo he takes is of you pressing your lips to his cheek, eyelashes fluttering prettily, and he can’t help but stare at the selfie for a good minute before he pulls his phone close to his face and begins pressing some buttons on screen.

“We look too cute—that’s my new home screen,” he whispers to no one in particular, and, nuzzling your nose against his shoulder, fondness strikes your heart.

“So left overs or order out?”

“Can we order pizza?” he asks. “I know it’s bad since the comeback is soon, but… I’ve been craving it so bad…”

“We’ll get a small then, with some breadsticks. I don’t want Jin or your manager beating my ass,” you say, and Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“They wouldn’t dare.”

You roll your eyes as well, smiling a little.

“Our regular, right?”

“Yeah.”

Grunting in affirmation, you slide into the kitchen and dig up the number for the pizza place, pressing the number into your phone. The restaurant picks up after the third ring, and you greet them kindly, requesting an order for delivery.

“Yes, can I please have a small pizza with Pepperoni and—*hic*…,” the hiccup catches you by surprise, and you pause, biting your lip as dread fills you. Dammit! Why while you’re on the phone trying to sound good, of all times!

“Sorry! Uhh…yep—small pepperoni and cheese with a side of *hic* breadsticks. Yeah, the 5 piece is *hic* fine. We’ll pay at arrival. Yep, thank *hic* you!”

You hope the worker on the other end doesn’t immediately start laughing at you as soon as you end the call—but you bet they do, just like Namjoon is now cackling with glee from the other room.

“Stop!!” you groan, stomping into the living room. Namjoon’s got his arm thrown over his face, his entire body shaking as dorky laughter erupts from his mouth. You part your lips to scold him more, face feeling a little warm, but as soon as you do another hiccup jumps out instead, and Namjoon’s dying laughter renews.

“You’re such an ass…,” you grumble, walking over and smacking his chest. He jolts, surprised, and quickly reaches for you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from getting too far.

“I’m sorry, babe, I just…It was cute, ok? I’m sorry.”

“I hate hiccups…,” you grumble, immediately relaxing at his apology. Namjoon hums, tugging on your wrist a little until you’re on the couch above him, your knees straddling either side of his torso. Turning your head, you rest it against his chest, eyes sliding shut as you listen to his steady heartbeat. However—

Hiccup! “UggHHHHH–!”

“Gosh, you’re cute.”

“Hush,” you sigh, sitting up and pressing your hands against his flat pecs. Your brow is furrowed, lips turned down into a pout. “There are two things that work: swallowing air and distracting myself with something else.”

“So–,” Namjoon begins, but shuts up as you open your mouth and begin attempting to swallow air. You look like a guppy, struggling to swallow something that isn’t quite meant to be swallowed.

For a whole minute you continue to swallow air, turning your head away from Namjoon when you see him watching you with an amused smile. Finally, once you’re sure you’ve done enough, you stop.

“Did it work?” Namjoon asks, and you wait a few more seconds before answering, a curious silence descending upon the room.

“Yeah, I think it—*hic*–,” you freeze immediately, and Namjoon sees your face contorting with childish anger.

“NooooO!!” you groan, covering your face with your hands. Namjoon chuckles, reaching up and attempting to pry your hands away.

“Hey,” he says, tongue poking out to wet his slightly chapped lips. “I know how to distract you, though.”

“…should I trust you?” you ask skeptically. He stares at you, a certain light to his dark eyes.

“I think you should.”

You nod, giving into whatever Namjoon has in mind, and immediately he tugs on your hands, guiding you down until your palms are pressed against the couch on either side of his neck.

“C’mere,” he grumbles, moving one hand to thread through the hair on your nape, and you allow him to pull you closer. Your own hands move to play in his hair as Namjoon kisses you, his lips soft, yet determined as they mold against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, head angling to deepen the kiss, and you groan softly, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

Eyes fluttering shut, you allow Namjoon to steal your breath away, fingernails lightly digging into his scalp, and his hands moving to caress your ass through your jeans. The move has you subconsciously grinding your hips down against his, and Namjoon groans at the feeling, his fingers giving your butt a squeeze.

“I thought you said I was injured,” he mumbles, voice already husky and his breaths a little short. You stare at him, lips cherry red, and immediately Namjoon wants to eat you up again.

“You are, but—you started this,” you say, leaning down to press an open mouthed kiss to his defined jaw, and you feel his chest rumble beneath you. Fuck, you would never trade this man for anyone else in the world.

God,” he groans quietly, one of his hands leaving your ass to caress your cheek. He quickly guides you back to his lips, making you moan around his tongue before he begins pressing heated kisses to your cheek and jaw, moving until his lips are open against the sensitive skin on your neck. You can’t help but shiver as he nips and sucks at the flesh, your body helplessly reacting to every one of his touches.

“Joon–,” you begin to groan, hips meeting his once more, but at that moment there’s a knock at the dorm door, and you both freeze.

“Fuck,” Namjoon sighs, his head dropping back against his pillow, and you quickly slide off of him, making sure your clothes are still in place. Suddenly you’re a little regretful that you had ordered takeout.

“Money?”

“There’s some in my wallet near the door,” Namjoon tells you, giving your ass a little smack as you walk past him and towards the door. You shoot him a jokingly angry look over your shoulder, hurrying to answer the door when they knock again.

“Sorry about that!” you say once you finally pull it open. Having snatched a 20 from Namjoon’s wallet, you hand it to the delivery boy and thank him kindly before shutting the door and padding back into the living room.

“Are you supposed to be walking?” you ask when you see Namjoon lightly hobble back into the room, two cups and a 2-liter in his grasp.

“Carefully,” is his response, and you laugh, shaking your head. The two of you then set up camp on the couch, Namjoon’s head leaned against your shoulder as you surf through channels, a slice of pizza in his hand.

“Thank you for coming over. I missed you,” he says suddenly, head turning to press a gentle kiss against your shoulder. You smile, turning your head to nuzzle against his hair fondly.

“You’re welcome. And I’ll always be here for you when you need me. But! Promise to try not to get hurt.”

Namjoon chuckles. “I promise.”


“OH!” Namjoon screams 10 minutes later, startling you. He breaks out into a happy grin. “I got your hiccups to go away!!”

You pause, lips parting in surprise.

“Well…fuck. You’re right. Dammit.”

“Yes! I did it! Me, Kim Namjoon—!”

“Oh my god.”

“Hiccup be gone extraordinaire~ Just come to me for all your hiccup needs~”

At that you laugh. “Actually, I don’t think I have a problem with that.”

anonymous asked:

There is this recent canon of hurting their s/o but it is implied with words, which I absolutely loved. Can you do it but with physical pain? Like hitting by accident and such. Thanks

Ahhh now there’s a thought. When you think about it, they have no qualms in hitting each other though do they? in fact they’re happy to straight up murder each other but I digress ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
——————————————-

Xemnas: Withdrawing his hand, he’d clench his fist and bring it back down to his side, turning away from your shocked expression to glare at the wall. Tears stung at your eyes as your cheek throbbed greatly. He’d never layed a hand on you before…never. Now, he couldn’t even look at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but found the words stuck in his throat. He needed to apologise…but he couldn’t.

Xigbar: It was a split second decision that would haunt him dearly. A stupid mistake that he shouldn’t have made and now had to live with. After a rather heated argument between you two, he grabbed a lamp and threw it out of frustration, not aiming at you at all but somehow it hit you anyway. It smashed on your head and left you with not only a cut but a broken heart.

Xaldin: He’d pull away quickly, realising far too late at what exactly he had just done. You’d coughed heavily, staring at him wide eyed as you nursed your sore throat, still able to feel his fingers curled around your neck. You choked back the tears as he babbled an incoherent apology, but…you didn’t want to listen to any of it. Instead, you fled in tears, a deep fear of him creeping around your heart.

Vexen: While it may have not seemed like a big deal to him at the time, it would have meant a lot more to you. It was only a mere shove, but it hurt you in more ways than one. He’d pushed you out the way while on one of his many rants, unfortunately making you hit a desk and bruising yourself on the corner. It would take him days to realise his mistake, but by then you would be reluctant to forgive him at all.

Lexaeus: Truthfully, he knew it was just an unfortunate accident, and you knew he didn’t mean it, but still he’d be upset with himself for hurting you, despite your protests that it was ok and that it wasn’t his fault. What started off as harmless fun on a brisk morning walk together turned sour when he gave you a playful nudge, knocking you over and twisting your ankle quite badly.

Zexion: Seeing the tears prickling in your eyes, he’d frown deeply, an unfamiliar sense of guilt worming it’s way into his mind. You caressed your throbbing fingers gently, tingles of pain shooting up your hand as you moved away from him, unable to comprehend why he had done that. All you did was touch his book, and quickly he had slammed the heavy pages shut on your intruding fingers. Why?

Saix: Growling lowly, he’d let go of your hair, hearing you whimper in fear and pain as you backed away. Once his anger has subsided, he’d be hit with the guilt that he’d dare lay a hand on you, even after all this time together. But he couldn’t bring himself to apologise, no matter how much he wanted to, his pride got in the way. You wouldn’t be able to look at him for a while.

Axel: He’d sigh heavily, running his fingers through his hair as you were checked over by the doctor, waiting anxiously. Luckily, you had narrowly escaped any serious damage, but th incident had left a lingering atmosphere of tension between you two. All he wanted was for you to taste his cooking, he didn’t think that the steam would suddenly jet out and catch you in the face. He wouldn’t stop holding you and apologising.

Demyx: It was an accident for sure, you both knew it, but still that didn’t stop him from trying to make it up to constantly, such as buying you gifts and doing things for you. Previously, he had just finished playing you a new song he had written before letting go of his sitar accidentally, the heavy instrument landing directly on your foot. You screamed and cried in pain, a broken toe being the end result. While you forgive him for it, he couldn’t forgive himself.

Luxord: Bandaging your feet up, he’d sigh heavily to himself and again tell you how sorry he was. But you’d be reluctant to answer, unable to look at him at all. He’d gotten completely drunk the night before and knocked a glass onto the floor, laughing his head off. You had walked in at the wrong moment to step on the large shards of glass, the soles of your feet becoming cut up and bleeding badly. Now sober, he was unable to forgive himself for being sp reckless.

Marluxia: His excitement would have turned to complete unhappiness as he stared down at you on the bed, watching as your sleeping face twisted in pain. He had cultivated a new plant that he desperately wanted to show you, but as fate would have it, you were allergic to the pollen. Now here you were, skin red and swollen and itchy, whimpering in your sleep from the pain. He was going to take care of you until you were better, and destroy the offending plant once and for all.

Larxene: Her laughter would have hurt more than the scratch marks now lining your skin, fresh tears pricking in your eyes despite trying desperately to hold them back. Initially she would have thought you were joking, but seeing your unhappy face would stop her laughter. She’d try and blame you, of course, for the whole argument but you wouldn’t have any of it, walking away from her.

Roxas: He wouldn’t be able to stop apologising, despite knowing it was an accident, he’d blame himself constantly. Teaching you to skateboard was the best thing he’d done, since you both loved rolling through the streets at dusk when no one was able to stop you. But all it took was one playful race, and one innocent nudge to send you flying down some steps, a broken leg being your reward.

Xion: She’d be horrified at her actions, completely hysterical and constantly asking if you were ok. Despite a bump on the head, you were fine, trying to play off the situation with a couple of jokes but she wouldn’t be laughing, too upset with herself for hitting the tennis ball too hard. Her competitiveness sometimes got the better of her.

——————————————-
Thank you for your ask!

~ Mod Star

werevampiwolf  asked:

Ah, conservative America. A land where my work is open on holidays and weekends but urgent care isn't and my insurance doesn't cover the emergency room, so today I'm going to work with a broken toe, where I'll have to stand for 5 hours. Have to go to afford rent, and can't get a doctor's excuse because they're closed. Even though my toe is obviously broken. At least my manager cleared with her boss for me to wear a sandal, which is already fucking up my back with different leg lengths.

hauntingkate  asked:

Uhm, for the pick a ship, Ohmlirious? Thank you 😊

send me a ship and I’ll tell you…        

who is more likely to hurt the other? - Delirious may hurt Ohm’s feelings from time to time, but Ohm wouldn’t mention it to the other.
who is emotionally stronger? - Ohm by a long smile
who is physically stronger? - They’re both pretty average but Ohm is strong just slightly.
who is more likely to break a bone? - Ohm is so much clumsier than Delirious so he has to be careful around stairs and the like. He’s broken a toe by jamming it against the wall once.
who knows best what to say to upset the other? - Delirious does and boy, does he love to tease.
who is most likely to apologise first after an argument? - Ohm is always first to apologize just moments after a fight.
who treats who’s wounds more often? - GTA AU, they both equally end up tending to the other.
who is in constant need of comfort? - Delirious but it’s always over the silliest things (”OHM, BUDDY WAS CHEWING ON TEDDY AND NOW TEDDY’S ARM IS HURT. ;;A;; “ )
who gets more jealous? - Ohmwrecker doesn’t get jealous, he just always feels cuddly whenever someone is getting a little too chatty with delirious. Not jealous at all.
who’s most likely to walk out on the other? - Delirious would be the one. Ohm would try to make it work till the very end.
who will propose? - Ohm would try and make it such a big deal, of course he’d propose!
who has the most difficult parents? - Ohm does and boy do they question Delirious sometimes.
who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? - Delirious, 100%. Ohm doesn’t mind bc it’s the cutest thing in the world.
who hogs the blankets? - They both do and it ends with fighting.
who gets more sad? - When Ohm gets sad, he gets REAL sad.
who is better at cheering the other up? - Delirious, always.
who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes? - Delirious but it’s normally a smack on the ass.
who is more streetwise? - Ohm is.
who is more wise? - Ohm!
who’s the shyest? - Ohm one more time!
who boasts about the other more? - You know that meme where Will Smith is presenting his wife on the carpet? Yeah, that’s Delirious boasting about Ohm.
who sits on who’s lap? - They take turns, since they’re about the same height.

An Idea:

Ok so I may or may not have broken my toe and while I’m on painkillers, I’ve had a thought:

If Weird Al ever does a movie parody (I know he did UHF already, but if he wants to do another), he should do a parody of kill bill called KILL DILL where The Love Of His Life steals his prized Kosher pickles and leaves him for dead, sending Al on a trail of delicious revenge.

  • Al and everyone else has food-themed names
  • Al has to travel to Lichtenstein to get a Special Accordion form an Accordion master in order to do battle with DILL
  • The yakuza fight except it’s a giant Pie fight.
  • eyepatch lady’s theme, but on a kazoo
  • It’s a musical, duh
  • The Pussy Wagon is now a “Taco Truck”

Someone more cognizant than I should continue this and/or email Al because he’s cool and might think this is funny

Okay, I should get some actual work done, so I’ll go through any other responses after I finish what I’m doing/when I get home. Thank you all for entertaining/distracting me.

Here are some random stories about me/my family:

  • My great-grandfather on my mom’s side came to the States and went around saying he was a mechanic, getting hired, taking things apart and, when he couldn’t figure out how to put them back together, leaving his job and finding a new one to start the process over again. He eventually learned how to put stuff back together, started a business that’s now over 100 years old, and invented the method sewing hooks and eyes onto fabric (aka the reason bras close the way they do). He also had some patents.
  • My grandfather was really upset that his younger brother was sent to camp with him so he led him through a patch of poison ivy. It turns out my great-uncle doesn’t react to poison ivy, but my grandfather does.
  • My uncle once sent a picture of himself ice swimming naked to all of his siblings (including my mom).
  • My grandfather on my dad’s side used to tell my brother and me that he liked bananas because they had no bones.
  • I’ve broken the same toe twice, and it’s the only bone I’ve ever broken.
  • I was supposed to be born on my brother’s birthday and was instead born on my uncle’s (the same uncle as mentioned above).