fractured nose

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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Impulse (Jungkook)

Angst/Fluff
Badboy AU
5484 Words 
The long awaited oneshot that I promised I’d post a week ago oops.

Summary: Jungkook keeps himself cool, calm and collected at all times yet around her, the want to throw away his facade is extremely tempting. He fears that if he acts on his feelings he will drag her into a lifestyle that he desperately wants to keep her out of.

Jungkook swallowed and gripped his thighs so hard he was sure he left angry red marks on them. Usually it was easy to ignore her but now that they were alone together, his senses heightened and he was able to catch every time she licked her lips out of nervousness, heard every little sigh that escaped from her mouth and he swore that if he looked at her directly right now, he could probably count every single one of her eyelash.

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The AA Team (Alya/Adrien)

@insanitysbloomings and I were talking about Alyadrien parenting and we accidentally created a pair of monsters…


“So…let me get this straight.”

Adrien couldn’t repress the vindictive smile that came across his face as the principal blanched, seemingly bracing himself for the torrent that was to follow. Six words meant that his wife was about to unleash a deluge of words carefully chosen and designed to make whoever was unfortunate enough to displease her wither like autumn leaves.  

“This…boy has been running around the playground all week, pulling on every pigtail, ponytail, and skirt hem he could get his nasty little hands on,” Alya said, leaning back in her chair as she folded her hands in her lap.

“W-We knew of Jean’s, uh, unconventional manner of play for a while,” Principal Lefontaine said, dabbing his bald forehead as Alya’s eyebrow arched over the rim of his glassed. “N-Nevertheless, we feel that Artemis should have used her words to-”

“From what Temi has been saying these last couple of nights, she already told her homeroom teacher that she warned Jean that the next time he snapped her bra strap, she would break his nose,” Adrien said, folding his arms across his chest. “My daughter is not a liar, Mr. Lefontaine.”

“Lying is not why she is currently being suspended,” Principal Lefontaine said.

“No,” Alya said icily. “You’re suspending her because a vicious little brat has been sexually harassing girls all year-”

“Th-that’s a bit far, don’t you think?”  Principal Lefontaine stammered, glancing at Adrien for support. “Mr. Agreste, this is clearly a case of boys just being b-boys, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No,” Adrien said flatly as Alya snorted derisively. “I would not. Artemis’ brother has never put his hands on a girl without their consent-”

“Yet he did kick Jean in the…ahem,” Principal Lefontaine coughed. “Rather hard, if the poor boy’s cries were to be expected.”

“After he saw some oaf grab his sister in a way that made her uncomfortable,” Adrien said with a small nod. “Sounds like the boy we raised, doesn’t it?”

“But, somehow, our childrens’ safety and right to an education isn’t as important as the “play” of the disrespectful little boys in her grade,” Alya said, glaring daggers into the eyes of the man across the desk before turning thoughtfully to her husband. “Do you think Paris should be warned about the fact that their daughters’ safety isn’t Mr. Lefontaine’s chiefest concern?”

“N-Now, there really isn’t any need to get the press involved,” Principal Lefontaine said, raising a hand.

“I am the press,” Alya said with a toothy smile. “So, unless you want this story on the front page of The Local—trust me, the editor owes me a favor—I would kindly reconsider taking any kind of measures against my children.”

“B-But Jean’s parents are going to be here any minute!” Principal Lefontaine said, handkerchief now drenched with sweat. “What am I supposed to tell them? Wh-What am I supposed to tell Jean?”

“That next time, he should listen when my daughter tells him not to put his hands on her body,” Alya said, standing up to leave.

“Or, at the very least, duck,” Adrien added, shooting a small wave over his shoulder. “I have every faith you’ll come to the right decision.”

Outside of the claustrophobic office, three teens sat on opposing benches. On one sat two hazel-eyed children, arms crossed and ankles resting on their opposite knees. As their parents walked out, they shot identical, shit-eating grins at the larger boy across from them currently pressing one pack of ice against his nose and another into his groin.

“Artemis, Apollo,” Adrien said, nodding towards the door with a small smile. “C’mon, let’s go get dinner.”

“See ya Monday, Jeannie,” Artemis said with a small wave as their parents passed through the door.

“Thith ithn’t over,” Jean mumbled through his ice pack. “Your nightmare ith juth beginning, twerpth.”

“Is that what the doctor told your mother when she had you?” Apollo snickered, dodging Jean’s foot as he skipped out the door after his parents.


“You think they deserve to be suspended?”

Adrien looked up from his tablet as Alya crawled into bed. “Do you?”  

“They did fracture that kid’s nose…though it sounds like he was warned,” Alya sighed, rolling over and laying her head on her husband’s shoulder. “And deserved it; god is that bad of me to say?” 

“First time they’ve ever been called in like this,” Adrien said, pressing a kiss into Alya’s hair. “And if they’re gonna get suspended for fighting, at least it was for a good cause.”

“Yeah…I guess so,” Alya sighed happily. “…we raised some good kids, didn’t we?”

“Temi’s definitely your daughter though,” Adrien chuckled.

“Excuse me?” Alya said, rolling over to look up at Adrien as she booped his nose. “That penalty kick Apollo did to that boy’s funbags was pure Chat Noir, don’t you think?”

“He would have made a good superhero,” Adrien said. “Maybe even better than us, you think?”

“Nah…we were pretty good in our day,” Alya said, leaning up and kissing Adrien on his cheek. “You ever think about telling them?”

“About us?” Adrien chuckled. “You think they’d believe us?”

“Nah…probably not,” Alya said, rolling over and turning off the lights.


“Hey, Temi?”

“Hm?”

“You ever think about telling mom and dad?”

“About us?” The black clad girl asked, raising her eyebrow at her orange and white clad brother as he twirled his flute between his fingers. “You think they’d believe us?

“Nah…probably not,” Apollo shrugged. A comfortable silence slipped between them as Chat Noire and Renard Rouge leaned against the spire of the Eiffel Tower, watching the city churn beneath them.

anonymous asked:

Orochimaru's intense flexibility is like 85% he's just naturally flexible. As such, he knows Flexible Person Level Yoga to keep limber. (AKA, I had the idea of Oro in yoga clothes complete with hair done up and had to share)

I COULDN’T RESIST I’M SORRY.


It’s not his proudest moment, but Sakumo takes one look at the newest occupant of the gym and walks into a wall.

Thankfully, the gods are merciful, because the very, very lovely yoga practitioner doesn’t so much as blink while Dai fusses and Sakumo tries (in vain) to wave him off and nurse his bruised nose and fractured dignity on his own. He still can’t quite take his eyes off the man, even with the plaster practically bearing the imprint of his face; the stranger is contorted, like a handstand except his body is curled over to leave his feet in front of his head, and the pose brings every sleek muscle into sharp definition.

Sakumo’s mouth is desert-dry, and he has to swallow carefully.

“Shall I get you some ice, my friend?” Dai asks with a hearty slap on the back, and by the twinkle in his eye he knows exactly where Sakumo was looking.

Sakumo gives his friend an abashed look. “No, don’t bother. I’ll be fine.”

“You certainly will be,” Dai says cheerfully, with a grin that’s almost a smirk, and disappears towards the weights.

Honestly, Sakumo doesn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed, because now he’s alone and that leaves him with far too few places to focus on that aren’t the stranger’s long, lean legs in very brief shorts, or the masses of midnight hair that are coming loose from a high bun, the bare chest arched at an extreme angle, or the corded arms holding his entire bodyweight perfectly still and stable.

Gods, Sakumo hasn’t been this attracted to someone he doesn’t even know since high school.

He shakes his head at his own ridiculousness, rising to his feet and collecting his towel and water bottle before he turns to find the treadmills. Of course, the easiest path to them takes him right past the yoga mats, but he keeps his eyes on the far wall and tells himself very firmly not to be a creep.

Then, with a long, slow breath that’s almost a sigh, the stranger unfolds. His stance shifts, legs extending and bending further even as his wrists turn, and with a lithe flex of muscle he sets his feet on the floor and pulls upright, coming to a stop inches from Sakumo’s nose.

Oh, Sakumo thinks, as long lashes slide up to reveal golden eyes shadowed with dramatic sweeps of purple. Oh holy hell, I’m in trouble.

The stranger blinks once, twice, and then offers Sakumo a smile that’s just a little too sly not to short out Sakumo’s brain. “Sorry about that,” he says lightly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

I will happily devote my life to making sure you never stop paying attention to me again, Sakumo almost says, but even with his brain currently leaking out his ears he isn’t that creepy.

“No problem,” he says instead, and just hopes it doesn’t sound as strangled as he fears. “I should have gone around.”

“Orochimaru!” someone calls, and the man turns, loose strands of black hair swaying over the pale nape of his neck. Sakumo wants to put his mouth there.

“Tsunade, you’re late,” Orochimaru says coolly.

The blond woman in exercise clothes rolls her eyes as she steps onto the mats. “Blame the pervert. He was trying to get into the locker room.”

“Did you call an ambulance when you were done with him?” Orochimaru’s smirking when he turns back, clearly unconcerned with the fate of this third friend, and when he catches Sakumo’s eye his expression shifts just slightly.

If Sakumo isn’t seeing things, that’s a definite spark of interest, and it makes his breath catch in his throat.

“Of course not.” Tsunade looks at Orochimaru, one brow rising, and then casts an assessing glance over Sakumo. She pauses for a moment, and asks, “Sakumo Hatake, right?” Sakumo and Orochimaru both look at her in surprise, and she smiles. “The pervert is Jiraiya. He’s mentioned you.”

Sakumo is definitely going to take his friend to task later for not mentioning that his other friend was transcendentally gorgeous and probably capable of knocking Sakumo on his ass. And in more ways than one.

“I’m Sakumo, yes. It’s nice to meet you,” he offers, and can’t help the way his eyes linger on Orochimaru as he says it.

“It certainly is,” Orochimaru returns, and offers one slim hand. His skin is cool, and Sakumo maybe lets his grip linger longer than is entirely polite.

Orochimaru’s smile says he doesn’t object at all. “Will you be here long?” he asks, tilting his head in a way that makes that hair brush across his shoulders. “We could get coffee after, if you’ve no plans.”

Sakumo has never had cause to be jealous of hair before, but clearly today is a day for discovering what new lows he can sink to.

It does help quite a lot that he’s fairly certain that was an offer for a date.

“I can cut out any time,” he offers, and at this point he doesn’t even care if he sounds too eager. “I was just going to do a little lifting.”

Orochimaru’s eyes flicker down to his biceps, bared by his loose tank top, and Sakumo thinks he sees him swallow. “Well then. I’ll come find you when we’re through?”

Sakumo grins at him. “Works for me.”

And gods, does it ever. Dubious beginnings aside, this is promising to be a fantastic day.

Prince Charming (Brendan Gallagher)

Anonymous said:

I love your imagine. Oh my god ❤️❤️😂😂 could you make an imagine with anyone from the Habs? And basically they get into a fight that night and they don’t come out of it very good and they have to go to the hospital but since it was at their rink you were watching the game and it just becomes all fluffy? (If that makes sense. ❤️❤️❤️)

Word count: 2035

Originally posted by so-hockey-eh


Fights are a normal part of the NHL. You, as a hockey fan, like the fights a little more than the average person. Fights give teams that spark that they need to tie the game up. Enforcers are a vital part of the team; they boost the morale when the game just isn’t going that well. You carry a level of respect for the men that are able to go out on the ice and take a few punches for the good of the team.

However, when one of those men just happens to be your boyfriend, you’re a little less enthusiastic.

Brendan throws one hell of a punch, and he knows how to defend himself, but you still can’t help but to cringe whenever the gloves go flying off, or chide him as you hold an ice pack to his newest bruise. You know that you’re being a tad overprotective, but it’s not like anyone enjoys watching their boyfriend get beat up as thousands of people cheer him on.

Tonight’s game has been a scrappy one, that’s easy to see by the penalty minutes racked up and the dirty shoves between teams whenever there’s a stoppage in play. There’s already been a couple of fights, so you’re not all that surprised when Brendan and another player start yelling at each other, smirks plastered across their faces. You say a small prayer to anyone listening that Brendan doesn’t do anything stupid as you watch intently. Suddenly, Brendan’s eyes steel and his jaw clenches as his opponent insults him. Brendan drops his gloves and gestures as his new best friend does the same.

You gasp as Brendan immediately grabs a hold of the other player’s jersey and starts punching him, the crowd jumping to their feet around you and pounding on the glass, urging him off. His opponent suddenly gets a grip on Brendan and starts whaling on him, blood flying onto the ice now. Brendan, from the glimpses you catch, already has a black eye, a couple of cuts on his face and a bloody nose. Suddenly, the other player hits him on the side of his head. Hard. Brendan immediately goes down as you jump up, frantically watching him.

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Companions are Dared to Fight Maxson

aaaaaa ;; I’m sorry for this being so late I’ve been so busy ~ little goose

Cait: 

“C'mon little guy! Show me what you got!” Cait got into a fighting stance and smirked at Maxson. In a matter of seconds she was flipped over and on the ground. “Watch what you say, civilian. I will not tolerate-” Cait had got up as he was speaking and sucker punched the Elder right in the face. The fight was on. It lasted around 3 hours tops, both getting knocked around by the other. The fight was closed to a tie because never of them would give up. Curie scolded them both when they were done, saying that “it was a hazard to their health” if they continued. Maxson suffered from a fractured wrist, a broken nose, and a cluster of bruises making his face swollen. Cait suffered a minor concussion a black eye, a few cracked ribs, and a sprained hand. They both decided it was best to not do that again, unless they got bored.

Codsworth:

Maxson raised an eyebrow at the Mr. Handy. “Sir? If I may, I don’t think it would be wise to conduct a fight against you, my saw arm alone is enough to give you stitches. I wouldn’t want to worry Miss Curie.” “I suggest if you don’t want to be turned into a scrap heap, then you better stay back.” As Maxson said that, it made Codsworth run tail and run, he didn’t even want to fight the Elder of the brotherhood anyway.

Curie:

Curie is a sweetheart, why would anyone want to fight her? She doesn’t even like fighting, only when it’s necessary. When asked to Maxson she was in shock. “Fight him? He has done nothing wrong to provoke me! Yes I mean he can be a bit ah, rude to me but that’s not a reason to hurt him!” However, she still ended up to face to face with him. “Monsieur? If I may, I do not wish to fight you.” Curie crossed her arms in protest. Maxson didn’t say anything, just shrugged and walked off. He’d never admit it but he was quite fond of Curie since she helped people no matter what, despite being a synth.

Danse:

“Me? Fight elder Maxson? You’re out of your mind.” Danse crossed his arms and stared at the person who dared him. “Last time that happened I ended up with a few broken ribs and a hand. I was off the field for almost 5 months.” He looked at the ground and then back up, “Of course I was more naive and less aware at that time, maybe I will take him on again.” Later that day, Danse was seen fighting Maxson. He wore a swollen face and a bloody nose just looking at him, however he also had a broken rib and a sprained ankle. Maxson had a black eye and what seemed like a fractured hand. Maxson was winning, Danse was unfortunately too cocky to take him on, leaving him on the ground after being flipped over, and then being left with a shattered pride.

Deacon:

“me, fight that hunk?” He laughed loudly, “Oh goodness, you gotta be kidding me!” He wiped a tear from his eyes from laughing so hard. “Well, you only live once, am I right?” He got up to go find Maxson. Once he spotted him, he popped a stealth boy and snuck up to him. He forcibly pulled the elder down, however he did not expect him to reach blindly in the air and take a lucky grab at the spy, pulling him down too. Deacon slammed onto the ground, giving him a small nose bleed. “Using a stealth boy, eh? Coward, show yourself!” Maxson yelled out in anger. Deacon quickly ran off, but kept his cool as he told the person who dared him that he totally beat Masson with just one punch. No one believed him since they saw Maxson the next day with no bruising or swelling showing that he’d been in a fight.

Dogmeat:

He tilted his head in confusion. He was a sweet dog (most of the time), why would he jump Maxson? Dogmeat didn’t move, he just sat down, scratched himself and rolled around on the ground in boredom.

Hancock:

“I’ll gladly do so.” Hancock smirked a mischievous smirk. He strolled up to Maxson with a wide grin on his face. “What do you want, ghoul?” Maxson looked at him in disgust. “Oh nothing, just wanted to give you something.” Hancock punched the elder in the face and yelled out, “Fight me you little punk!” The fight my friends, was on. Maxson was strong and fast, but Hancock was swift and flexible. He was like a fox letting a bull charge him but then jumping to the side at the last second. Maxson was able to get a few punches on the mayor but soon found himself on the ground in pain. Hancock had body slammed him to the ground and walked off with just a broken finger and a slight limp in stride that wpuld last at least a week. Maxson however had a cracked rib, a black eye, and busted lip. No one ever let the elder live that down. Who couldn’t talk about it? The elder of the Brotherhood of Steel had just got his ass kicked by a skinny ghoul from Goodneighbor.

Maccready:

Maccready nervously chuckled “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, I mean I’m not really trained in hand-to-hand combat.” However he strolled up to Maxson and was about to punch the guy in the face but when he turned around and questioned Maccready, the poor sniper just about jumped out of his skin and ran away with his tail tucked between legs.

Nick: “Listen, I would and I really want to, but he could easily turn me into a scrap heap the next time he saw me, so I’d better not.” The detective lit up a cigarette, “However, maybe if I’m feeling risky I might just fight the guy”

Piper:

“Bring it Maxson! Fight me!” Piper put her fists up at the taller man. Maxson looked down at her and scoffed. “Do you really want to do tha-” before he could finish his sentence, piper went right into fighting dirty and had kicked him right in the baby maker. The elder held his groin in pain as a tear welled up in his eye, but he held it in. He gasped slightly before maintaining his posture and got rewards with a strong kick to the shin bringing him down on one knees. Piper cheered, “Hey guys! I just brought the elder of the Brotherhood of Steel to his knees!! How many of you can say that, huh??” She walked laughing and pumped her fists in the air, she was definitely writing an article about this.

Preston:

“Oh I don’t know, he’s a really strong guy….but I always wanted to challenge him!” Preston smiled and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Later that day, he walked up to Maxson and bluntly told he wanted to challenge him to a fight. “Challenge me? To a fight? You do realize you are addressing the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, correct?” Maxson challenged Preston, his back straight and staring sternly at the Minuteman. “I know exactly who I’m addressing and I’m challenging you to a fight.” Preston stared down the Elder. “Very well then.” With that, the two were at each other, punches flying and dirt being kicked up everywhere. Soon enough, Preston landed a punch square Maxson’s face. The sweet pure man soon realized that was a mistake since he then found himself on the ground, wheezing, flooding coming from his face. He groaned as he slowly got up, suddenly feeling nauseous. “Monsieur! Oh dear, you need to be treated immediately! You too Monsieur Maxson! Come come! ” Curie had ran up to scene of the fight just in time to see Preston go on the ground. “Curie I’m fine..just need to catch my breath..” Preston almost went unconscious as he stumbled to Curie’s place. He was diagnosed with a few broken ribs, a bruised shoulder and a broken nose, Maxson however, had a broken nose and a fractured jaw. Preston decided to never challenge Maxson again.

Strong:

As soon as he was dared he got a wild grin on his face. “Strong smash small human? STRONG SMASH PUNY HUMAN!” He ran over to Maxson bellowing a loud roar. Maxson silently thanked whoever was listening that the super mutant was so loud that no one could hear his high-pitched scream as he was taken into the mutants arms and thrown like a rag doll. The Elder suffered from a number of injuries: broken leg, arm, wrist, a concussion, and extremely sore joints and muscles for next few months. It took a ton of persuasion to convince Maxson not to terminate Strong for treating him so poorly.

X6-88:

“I will gladly punch the shit out of that surface filth.” Standing up, X6 walked out of the room, finding Maxson easily. “Excuse me, sir? I wish to speak with you.” Maxson turned around at the voice, seeing who called him. “What do you wan-” before the Elder could finish, he was punched in the face, kicked in the shin, and thrown on the ground in a matter of seconds. “Hm, always wanted to do that.” With that, X6 walked off calmly, like nothing happened leaving Maxson in a stunned daze wondering what had just happened.

Maxson:

Maxson was aboard the Prydwen, strolling towards his quarters when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something. He stopped and looked around and saw someone right beside him. Thinking it was an attacker, he launched himself at the intruder only to come into contact with a wall. No, wait, it was mirror. Maxson launched himself at a reflection of himself like a puppy seeing itself in a mirror for the first time. Humiliated and sore, Maxson was just glad that no one saw that and he shamefully shuffled into his quarters and stayed there for the rest of the night. However, he did not see the newest recruit climbing up from the command deck just in time to witness the scene. The next day, Maxson walked down the hall wondering why everyone was whispering and snickering when he walked by.

Gage:

Gage laughed, loudly. “That little guy? I bet you 30 caps I’ll win!” Gage quickly strolled up to Maxson with a huge grin on his face. Maxson turned around and in exchange, got a sucker punch to the face. He staggered backwards slightly from the force and held his bloody nose. “What the hell??” Maxson’s eyes flashed a lethal look towards Gage and lunged towards him. Maxson had Gage underneath him and was angrily punching him. Gage quickly rolled away and ran off, limping ever so slightly. Gage lost his thirty caps and a got rewarded with a broken nose a few chipped teeth and two black eyes.

Ada:

“Why would I do such a thing?” Ada was confused, why would she attack someone just to attack someone? She walked away from the person who asked her and went to go do her own thing leaving the person slightly disappointed since they didn’t get to see a fight.

Maas University: Part Two

I


The sun started to disappear over the brick buildings of Maas University, painting the sky pink and gold; clouds stretched out for miles. Cassian’s heart felt heavy in his chest as he and Nesta crossed the parking lot, weaving past dozens of teenagers. He didn’t want to leave; he made himself put one foot in front of the other, making way to his jeep.

Leaning against the vehicle, Cassian eyed the sunset, the sky making the red finish on the jeep darker. Crossing his ankles, Cassian’s heart squeezed inside his chest as he leaned back, his elbow resting against the hood.

Waiting beside him, Nesta’s face was imperial and closed off, her blue grey eyes bright against the setting sun; eyelashes casting shadows onto her ivory skin. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips before brushing her knuckles with his thumb. Shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly, his wife looked at him. She didn’t want to leave either.

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MEDICAL REPORT: RAFINHA ALCANTARA

The Club’s Medical staff confirmed after running more tests that Rafinha Alcantara along with the deep cut in his forehead has a fractured nose. 

Therefore he will miss the Copa match against Atletico Madrid and will most likely miss more matches 

His return will depend on how his injury heals.

Get well soon Rafa

optimusxjazz  asked:

Hmmm how about 2doc. The months after Muds gets out of jail and tries to go straight an narrow. (Straight as he can get) and trying to make up with 2d after the years of abuse. Could be some good sap

(I REALLY HOPE THIS IS OKAY? I tried my very best)

Murdoc Niccals was never known to have guilt eating him up, and when it suddenly started showing up in his range of emotions, he knew something had changed. It had, obviously, being behind bars changed a man and the fact that Murdoc thought that it was going to be easy peasy to go through seemed ridiculous now, even to himself. He was back, and what he had endured there (among things, another two fractures on his nose) had made him realise other things. 2D had gotten less bad attention after the return, and even the blue haired singer seemed weirded out by that. No punches, no things thrown after him - Murdoc was quieter than usually. 

“Faceache,” Murdoc finally said one day and immediately felt the guilt almost burn his tongue, “Stu.” He furrowed his brow and bit his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, 2D looking at him with almost the same expression, “I need to say a few things, yeah? They’re gonna be hard, you know I don’t do this very often. I’m glad to be back.”

“You’re back,” 2D said with a small smile, “I’m kinda reluctantly ‘ere but I’m glad you’re back. Gorillaz isn’t the same without you.”

Murdoc gave a little smile, “If you ever say I said stuff like this, I’ll break ya neck, got it? But I’m sorry for these years, I’ve realised I need to change. You know how it is, my bastard of a father. It’s hard for me to tell people I care about them.”

2D raised his brows in surprise, “Wot? You’re apologisin’?” He tilted his head, black eyes full of expression, “For wot?”

Murdoc felt his chest constrict as he thought back to everything he’d done in the past, “You bloody well know what I’m apologising for, you loon. Don’t be thick. C'mere.” He pulled him in for an awkward hug and 2D’s reaction was nothing, he seemed too taken aback by the fact that the bassist would do such a thing. Murdoc on the other hand felt as though a long-time need to be close to someone finally happened. He held on tighter and that was when arms wrapped around him too, and it surprised Murdoc so much that he had to blink a few times. If he could, he would’ve pinched himself because suddenly a croaky but soft voice spoke, “You know I care ‘bout you, Muds… but maybe lay off on the threats.”

I Can’t Wait To Hear You Scream PT. 4

Summary: You and Negan go on a run together.

Note: The smut hasn’t come in yet, because I want the sexual tension between Negan x Reader to get unbearable.

You didn’t see Negan for the rest of the day after that, but you didn’t need to see him, your sore ass was enough of a reminder of him.
You sat in the cafeteria by yourself that night, along with other sanctuary members. You weren’t very hungry, so you just pushed around some food on your plate.
You wondered what Negan was doing now and also wondered why you couldn’t stop thinking of him. Just as you were about to get up to leave Simon approached you, “The boss wants to see you.” He said quickly and kept walking. You turned in the direction he was going, “What for?” You asked curiously, wondering what the fuck you did wrong now.
“I have no idea,” He didn’t even turn around, “I’m going to the chow line, just get going.”
You rolled your eyes and got up and dumped your tray in the trash and made your way out and went to the same room as the other times. You walked in and Negan was sitting in the chair, feet propped up on the table, cleaning Lucille with a bloody cloth. He kept his eyes fixated on the bat.
“It’s about time, darlin’, I was starting to think I’d have to fucking hunt you down.” He finally looked up and gave you a sly smirk, he sat Lucille in his lap. He gestured to the free chair near the desk, “Go on, darlin’. Have a seat.” He said with a wink.
You winced, because you knew he was poking fun at your current situation.

“I’d rather not.” You answered, looking unamused.

He chuckled and threw his head back, showing straight white teeth, he looked back at you with his dark eyes.
“Yeah, I kinda figured. I fucking tore that ass up. Too bad I can only say it was with this.” He ran a hand seductively along his leather belt, but keep eye contact with you. Seeing his hand running along that region ignited some excitement in you. Damn him.
You let a out a breathe.
“Why did you wanna see me?”

He cleared his throat and got serious, “Since you showed you know how to actually fucking handle yourself, I’m gonna offer you a job.”

“What kind?” You asked in suspicion, eyeing him carefully.

He licked his full lips and smirked, “Doing runs with me.“ He ran a hand through his black hair, "You said you could find shit that no one else could, so let’s put it to the goddamn test, doll.”

You smirked back, “I can do that, it’s just a shame you are giving me the opportunity when I can barely walk.”

He smiled wickely, “Well, who’s fucking fault is that?” You just nodded, not wanting to get another 10 licks from him.. Not at the moment anyway.
“Hell darlin’ maybe I just wanna get you alone for a while. Maybe I like lookin’ at you so goddamn much I wanna take you with me.” A smile was finally starting to break through on your face, there was still tension between you two, but his charisma was too powerful to keep you mad.
“Holy fuck. Is that a fucking smile I see? Shit.” He said in a fake surprised tone, leaning forward, with his lips parted.
“Why not take Amber?” You smirked.
He saw that you were challenging his authority and he fucking liked it.
He pursed his lips into an “o” shape, seeing that you were trying to see how far you could push his buttons, and goddamn if that didn’t make him want you even more.
He threw his hands behind his head. “Shit, the only thing that girl is good for is sucking a cock, I don’t know how she survived before I brought her ass in. Not to mention that you fractured her nose in two fucking places.” He smiled, sounding almost proud of you when he said that.
You smiled and had a sense of satisfaction wash over you.


The next morning you met up with Negan beside the black truck, he was wearing his leather jacket and had Lucille propped on his shoulder proudly. “You ready to get to work?” He asked, opening the passenger side door.
You were even more sore today, but you were powering through it, “Yeah, I’m ready.” He got in on the driver’s side, laying Lucille in between you two - which was way different from the first night when he wouldn’t let her go. You began driving down a long stretch of highway, passing neighborhoods and stores, they all must have been emptied out a while ago since he didn’t bother to look in their direction.
“Do I get a weapon?” You asked bluntly.
He glanced over to you as if you were crazy.
“I’m all the fucking protection you need, baby doll.” He said flexing a leather clad arm.
“So, I don’t get a weapon?”

He rolled his eyes, “Alright, with your fucking broken record already, here-” he dug around in the floorboard and picked up an old rusty crowbar and handed it to you, “take this.”
You grabbed it, but he didn’t let it go, “Look, I still don’t fucking know you that well, so I’m gonna go out on a fucking limb and trust that you’re not gonna try to crack me over the head with that fucker.”
You shook your head, “No, I’m not."He finally loosened his grip on it and let you take it from his gloved hand.

You pulled up to a big store and Negan turned the engine off. "Alright, we’re gonna go in here and look around for any useful shit. Stay aware of your surroundings, I don’t want a fuckin’ replay of last time.” He said cutting his eyes to you referring to when you got caught by a walker your first night.
“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You answered back getting out of the truck before he could open your door this time. He got out and walked over beside you, eyeing your surroundings.
“What happens if others show up?” You asked, wondering how well he would handle rivals without the Saviors.

“Where’s your fuckin’ faith, darlin’? You really think I fuckin’ need my men around to get the fuckin’ message across that I’m in charge around here? Their shit will still be mine and if they don’t believe me, Lucille will take care of it.” He said sternly, he had basically read your mind as to what you were thinking.
He headed towards the building and you followed close behind, the crowbar swinging in your hand.
He kicked the glass door to the store in and waited, looking around for any movement. Neither of you heard anything and enterned, majority of the store was emptied, but there were still and few items here and there.

You split up and both walked to opposite ends of the building, you could hear Negan throwing items around and could hear the few stray words of “Fuck”, “Goddamn” and “Shit”. You shook your head, he was destructive with everything and his vocabulary consisted of the word fuck. You walked around, looking for any canned goods, but found none on the shelves except for a stack of old beauty magazines. You heard a loud shatter as glass broke followed by Negan shouting,
“Yeah, break that fucking shit, Lucille. Fucking homerun!” you peeked around the corner to see that he was playing baseball with fucking flower vases, he was like a kid in a candy store throwing up vases and quickly shattering them with Lucille’s barbed end. You snorted with laughter, at least he was entertaining himself. You got onto your knees and bent down, looking under the shelves and saw a few stray cans of food. You reached under as far as you could to grab them, you ended up being able to get ahold of two cans of beans and soup.
There was a loud whistle, “Damn baby, you should have fuckin’ called me over here sooner to enjoy this sweet ass view.” Negan called as he walked over towards you. You chuckled, biting your lip at the way he talked to you, but not letting him see it. You stuck the cans into your bag,
“I found a few cans of food.”

“Not bad, I actually wasnt exoectinv you to find a fucking thing. This place is pretty much empty, not much here anymore. Doesn’t matter anyway, gonna be paying a visit to your old pal Rick the-fucking-prick soon.” He was still staring at your ass as you rose slowly off the ground, but picked up one of the magazines on a nearby shelf and glanced at it before he threw it to the side.

“Yeah, I saw you practicing your swings over there. So this was a test or something?” You felt sadness as you remembered the old group. You hadn’t thought about them much since you left, but hoped they were doing fine.

“Lucille isn’t all business. My girl likes to have some fuckin’ fun, too.” He cooed, patting the bat. "And yeah, I didn’t even think about fucking looking under the shelves, but shit, I just felt like fuckin’ bringing you out. The view of your ass was fuckin’ worth it.” He raised his eyebrows in that sexy way that he always does. You shook your head and smiled. This asshole, as ruthless and dangerous as he was, was growing on you, that’s for sure.

dailymail.co.uk
Chinese rugby player 'kicked man in face after he was called 'chink'
Sidney Chan (pictured) is accused of kicking Stephen Kent in the face twice and claims the victim abused him when they left the bar at London’s prestigious Imperial College.

“The assault left the Kingston University student with a fractured nose and eye socket and a heavy concussion.”

This is not 1964, get fucked up if you want to YT.  😘

Why Choose Me? || Bucky x Reader

Summary → A particularly difficult mission and a close call beckons shaky confessions and difficult questions.  

Word Count → 1.4K

Warnings → Mentions of blood & violence, cursing.

A/N →This was supposed to be a drabble based on prompts #5 & #65 requested by @maggallicious. I apologize for the delay, but once I started writing this ficlet took on a mind of it’s own! Enjoy!

The intermingled stench of sweat and blood that clouded the quinjet was unbearable, only worsening the tension that hung heavily throughout the aircraft. You kept your gaze trained on the padded floor beneath your combat boots, using the back of your hand to wipe away the fresh blood that streamed from your nose and pooled at your upper lip. You knew from your vast array of injuries over the years that your nose was fractured, at a bare minimum, if not broken. You consciously refused to take notice of or acknowledge the buzzing sting of where the bullet had grazed your left shoulder, rationalizing that contemplating the wound would only exaggerate the pain. You quietly continued the mental recount of every injury and wound that decorated your weary form, observing the mission had not gone at all as planned. 

At the earlier briefing, Steve had described a simple reconnaissance mission of an abandoned Hydra facility. Your mission, along with Bucky’s, was to gather and recover as much intel from the archives of the deserted warehouse as possible. The pair of you had received exhaustive instructions, numerous blue prints of the multi-story structure, and specific extraction protocol. What none of you had expected, however, was to find several operatives left behind amongst the rubble, ready to defend the remains. The fighting had begun almost instantaneously after breaching the perimeter, taking Bucky and you entirely by surprise. It had ended in a close call.  

Too close. 

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Congratulations

Original request from a lovely anon:  Awesome! So can I request something based off of Congratulations from the cut songs of Hamilton? But instead of Angelica going off on Hamilton about him cheating, it’s the reader going off on Tony about signing an accords that put her and the rest of team cap in that inhumane underwater middle of the Atlantic prison with the rest of Cap’s team? There doesn’t have to be a ship in this (maybe Tony X Reader would fit best with the song? Or Tony and the reader are exes?). Thank you!

A/N: Alright, my dude, I got super inspired to write this and I was able to bang it out in just under 24 hours, how fkin great is that? Wait, don’t answer, I don’t know if it’s any good. Anyways! Thank you so much for sending this in! It definitely was a challenge for me, but I hope it’s angsty enough for you. ;u; The song can be found here

Pairing: TonyxReader

Word Count: 1230

Warnings: Slight language, angst


“(Y/N), I can’t ask you to do this for me.” Steve says, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to go against Tony.”

“You do realize I’m not doing this for you, right?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “I believe in this shit too. It’s bigger than all of us, and you know it.”

“You’ll be a criminal.”

“Just another thing to check off the bucket list.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No, Steve. I’m not backing down.” I say adamantly. “I don’t care what Tony says, he’s just gonna have to deal with the fallout of his stupid ass decision.”

Yeah. They caught us. A good portion of Steve’s team I’m stuck between Clint and Scott. Sam is right next to Wanda. Whoever’s keeping us hasn’t got any plans for us, but they’ve been cruel to the strongest of us. They’ve doped up Wanda so much that she’s still conscious, but no where near a state of cognizance. They’ve got her in a straight jacket and they’ve even stuck a shock collar on her. From what I’ve heard and seen, they’ve used it a few times too. She’s stopped moving around her cell, just sitting, complacent, against the wall.

Sam hasn’t stopped pacing since he was shoved into his cell. He fought the whole way in, quipping to the best of his ability. He even managed to land a solid punch to the nose of one of the guards. He broke the man’s nose and fractured his cheekbone before anyone could rush forward to stop him. Clint’s just sitting on his bed, unusually quiet. Scott hasn’t moved from his perch either. He’s keeping his mouth shut and his eyes forward, and it’s clear that this whole prison thing isn’t new to him. I myself have opted for laying on my bed and waiting for the inevitable eternity of living here for the rest of my miserable life.

“The futurist is here, gentleman!” Clint calls. I smack our adjoining wall. “Sorry, ladies.”

“Thank you.” I mutter, rolling over and sitting up, Tony’s entered the containment deck. I sigh and lay back down.

“As I was saying,” Clint starts again. “The futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what’s best for you, whether you like it or not.”

“(Y/N),” Tony’s voice is quiet when it reaches my ears. “(Y/N), look at me.”

“Not happening, sweetheart.” I scoff.

“Come on, you’ll have to talk to me at some point.”

“Says who? The government? Doesn’t mean anything to me.” I roll off the bed, landing on all fours before rising to my feet. I slowly walk towards Tony. “You’re wasting your time on me.”

“Is that really what you think you are to me? A waste of time?” He hisses.

“No. I think what you’re doing here is a waste of time.” I slam my hands against the glass and Tony jumps back, startled. “You know you’re wrong. I can see it in your eyes.”

“(Y/N)-”

“No, Tony, you’ve invented a new kind of stupid, you know that right?” I push off of the glass and fold my arms across my chest. “It’s a ‘damage you can’t undo’ kind of stupid, ‘open all the cages at the zoo’, ‘truly didn’t think this through’ kind of stupid, Anthony.”

“I know, I fucked up.” Tony admits, hanging his head momentarily before looking up at me again. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

“I know that, but at what cost? This shithole isn’t something being a hero should include. Imprisoning capes isn’t going to do anything to help your cause.” I sigh loudly. “You’re the only enemy you ever seem to lose to. I know why you signed, but you didn’t bother with talking to anyone beforehand. I mean, sure, you talked, but you only talked at us. You expected us to go along with your plan without even thinking first. You jumped the gun with this one.”

“You couldn’t have expected me to allow myself to do whatever the hell I want after everything I’ve caused over the past, what, eight years?” Tony cards a hand through his hair before running it over his face. “I can’t just do whatever I want like Steve.”

“You know why Steve can do whatever he wants?!”

“Oh please, do tell, (Y/N). Seeing as he’s got you wrapped around his finger.” Tony hisses, his anger slowly growing.

“Because he doesn’t dignify schoolyard taunts with a response!” I cry. “You always have to have a comeback for every single thing thrown your way, regardless of how small the issue is. You like to pick fights. It’s who you are. You can’t keep pulling shit like that and expect everything to be fine. You think you’re being facetious, but you’re just being sarcastic and obnoxious.” I whip around to face the security camera in my cell. “You getting all this, Ross? Cause it’s good shit to use against us when we never go to trial.”

“Please-”

“No,” I whip around to face Tony again.

“It was an act of political and tactical sacrifice!” He cries.

Sacrifice?” I hiss. “You call this sacrifice?”

“Well what would you call it?”

“I call it the easy way out.” I run a hand over my face, trying to keep myself from lashing out and avoid a hefty shock from the lovely electronics in my gorgeous blue jumpsuit. “You saw an opportunity to foist the blame onto someone else and you jumped at the chance.”

“That’s not true.” He says, pointing a finger at me aggressively.

“Oh? Isn’t it though?” I cock an eyebrow at him. “I know you, Tony. Standing on the sidelines just isn’t your thing, but I know you’ve got one hell of a guilty conscience.”

“LIke you could know anything about the state of my conscience.”

“But don’t I?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “I’ve worked with you for years, Tony. I gave up a good portion of my life to assist you. I know exactly how much you blame yourself for the things that have happened. You’re not as hard to read as you think you are, and I’m not stupid as you want to think I am.” A low whistle comes from someone a couple cells away from me.

“Congratulations, Tony.” Sam says, a low chuckle following his words.

“(Y/N), just please tell me why you did this for Steve.” Tony says, his tone verging on begging.

“You seriously think I did this for Steve?” I hiss. He searches my eyes momentarily before nodding gently. “Jeez, Tony, I’m here because I chose this path. I just happened to join his team.”

“I just have one last question.”

“Fine.”

“Did you even think about what your choice would do to me?”

“Did you even think about what your choice would do to me, Tony? Did you?” I shake my head. “Of course I thought of what it would do to you. I love you. I couldn’t let that get in my way any more than I could sit by and watch the massacre that would result from the negligence of the government, regardless of how many signed that damn paper. I can’t-” my throat goes dry and I have to swallow before speaking again. “I can’t keep tearing myself apart to help both sides.”

“Then stop.” He breathes.

Let me.


Thank you so much for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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N is for Nosebleed (14/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS)
Pairing: 
 ReaderXBones
Prompt: Fic 14 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series.  Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series!  N is for Nosebleed.
Word Count: 1800
Warnings: blood, pain, practical jokes, a little bit of cursing.
Rating: Teen+
Author’s Note: This fic was born of an idea for an April Fools Day series a few of us were talking about recently.  Apologies for any grammatical or mechanical issues - I’m posting this in a rush before I leave the house for the day.  I’ll re-read this later and fix them then!

N is for Nosebleed

You feel equal parts guilty for violating the sanctity of your boyfriend’s office and excited at how much of a kick you and Jim are going to get out of pulling a mostly-harmless prank on your CMO. The two of you are in cahoots and have been playing practical jokes on the whole crew for days and now it’s finally Leonard’s turn to get pranked.

You hover by the door, your ear pressed to the pane, listening for any incoming footsteps as Jim places an air horn under the seat of the doctor’s chair, securing carefully into place and making sure it’s positioned properly so that it goes off when Leonard’s weight on the chair causes it to sink a fraction.

Once Jim gives you the okay, you rush away from the door and head for the small closet at the side of the office.  You open the door, grinning like a lunatic, and step inside, shifting over to leave just enough room for Jim.  He steps in beside you and you close the door – it’s close quarters but it’ll all be worth it when you two get to see the look on Leonard’s face when he sits down.

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chasing love // liam dunbar

Originally posted by kawaiixliam-blog

request: hi! may i please have a liam dunbar (teen wolf) imagine, please? could the plot be where liam is pretty much in love with y/n but she’s in love with stiles and stiles is in love with lydia? and then the whole story would just be liam trying to win y\n’s affections? but liam fails every time. so at the end liam believes y/n will never feel the same way about him because he’s a monster. ending: y/n ends up falling for the monster. pretty please and thank you (by @robin12335 )

a/n: oh shit my bby oh shit

Liam Dunbar would give anything to be Stiles Stilinski.

The way you would gaze at Stiles adoringly as he passed you in the hallways made Liam’s heart pound and fists clench.

Stiles just didn’t realise how lucky he was, did he?

To have someone like you - (y/n) (y/l/n), for god’s sake - love him unconditionally and talk about him the way you did and be willing to do anything for him.

Liam felt his breaths grow dangerously uneven and ragged as he watched you stare at Stiles and Lydia sadly, beautiful (y/e/c) clouding with disappointment.

He would never disappoint you.

Furiously slamming his locker shut, Liam stormed away from you with purpose, deciding that by the end of the school year, you would be his, and he would be yours.


[ATTEMPT ONE]

Liam’s heart was beating furiously as he made his way to Derek’s loft. (a/n: derek’s fucking alive yall i donT CARE WHAT JEFF DAVIS TRIES TO TELL ME)

After much extensive research - it was really just begging Kira to help him, really - Liam (read: Kira) had formulated a plan to confess to you by meeting you an hour earlier than the time the pack had planned to meet, just so he could confess to you before anyone could interrupt the both of you.

Derek had agreed to the plan after laughing his ass off about it, and it was now in action.

“So…you said you needed help with Chemistry, right, Liam?”

Snapping out of his rather inappropriate thoughts about (y/n)’s legs, Liam jolted upright, grinning at (y/n) like an absolute idiot.

“A-act-tually, (y/n), I-i wanted to t-tell you that-t I really lik-”

“Hey, (y/n)! Do you wanna help me with the food? Oh, hi, Liam!”

(y/n)’s eyes widened, before glancing at Liam apologetically, giving him a quick ‘I’ll talk to you later, kay?’ and a little pat on his shoulder before gleefully skipping off to where Stiles was waiting with that stupid, innocent little smile on his face.


[ATTEMPT TWO]

Disappointed and angry after his failed attempt at confessing his feelings - which had now grown into an emotional hurricane of anger and desperation and longing - Liam had asked you out on a date.

Okay, he hadn’t said that it was a date, but, really, he had been much too nervous for it too be one of those ‘just friends’ occurrences.

The date had been set on a Friday, decidedly after Liam’s lacrosse training, and Liam was willing time to fly to 5:00.

He might have been a tad too excited, though, as he caused two accidents involving a broken nose, a fractured leg, and two bruised ribs.

After training, Liam had cleaned up and was happily making his way out of school and back home to get ready for his date with you.

‘a date with (y/n) (y/l/n)’ hadn’t been a phrase he ever thought would occur, but here he was.

Suddenly picking up light footsteps coming toward him, Liam turned around, puzzled, a huge grin taking over his face when he saw (y/n) striding toward him.

“Hey-”

“I am so, so, sorry, Liam, but I can’t make it for movies tonight,” (y/n) rambled nervously, wringing her hands. “Stiles needs me to tutor him and he has this huge test on Monday and he isn’t free during weekends and the test apparently is really important and-”

Liam felt his cheeks grow warm as his heart flared disappointment and frustration and anger.

Of course it was Stiles. It’s always Stiles. Stiles, blah, blah, Stiles, blah, blah. Stupid Stilinski can’t even study himself now-

“Yeah - um - it’s fine. Totally fine. See you on Monday,” the words tumbled out of Liam’s mouth in a mad rush, causing him to flush red, muttering a short ‘bye’ before hurrying out of school.


[ATTEMPT THREE]

After a four-hour rant to Kira, the kitsune decided to step in herself, claiming that Liam need ‘a women’s brilliant expertise’ in order to win (y/n) over.

(a/n: lmao nobody ask me for love advice i cant even flirt with a potato chip)

Kira’s ‘genius, expert-level, fool-proof’ - quoted from the woman herself - plan went something like this: Kira would oh-so-realistically forget to meet (y/n) at the mall, and Liam would conveniently be passing by and save (y/n) from the clutches of teenage boredom and the two would eventually fall in love with each other - Liam was already hopelessly in love with (y/n), so really it was (y/n) that needed to do most of the falling - over a romantic lunch.

It didn’t exactly go to plan.

(y/n)’s best friend also happened to be picking up some things from the mall just as Liam had began talking to (y/n), and so the awkward trio-fest began.

Liam couldn’t bear to leave you and your friend, despite how he uncomfortable he was feeling, but then again, the things you two talked about were fucking weird.

The hellish two hours were soon over, and just as Liam was about to head home, upset and sad and lowkey wanting to kill Kira, he was ambushed by said kitsune, only to be yelled at for another 30 minutes about seizing the moment and being a charismatic, attractive, gentleman.

No progress was definitely being made.

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anonymous asked:

hello! i have a pretty general question. what are common injuries associated with fighting? specifically fist-fights, the kind that are spontaneous and heated and usually public. no weapons, just two people going at it. i imagine even the one who throws the most punches walks away with some damage, maybe to their hands/knuckles?

Hey anon! Fistfights can be associated with lots of injuries!

Bare-knuckle fights are actually relatively good for both fighters, in that the pain in the hand of punching someone someplace hard is self-limiting. Good bare-knuckle boxers will usually try to land body blows rather than head shots, because skulls are a lot harder than fists. However, untrained fighters may not know that, so they may do the dumb and try to punch their opponents in, say, the face and hurt their hands.

Typical injuries after your characters have a fistfight may be:

  • Broken 5th metacarpal (bone in the hand behind the pinky), AKA a boxer’s fracture
  • Broken wrist
  • Broken nose
  • Scrapes on the knuckles, including tooth marks on the knuckles
  • Broken teeth / split lip from the lip being punched into the teeth; this may require stitches
  • MAYBE a broken jaw, though the person doing the breaking would likely also break their hand
  • If someone is  smart and does body shots rather than the face, injury–but likely not life threatening ones–to the spleen, liver or kidneys; they may pee some blood; abdominal bruising is possible
  • Injury to the ear is possible
  • Black eyes
  • Scrapes on the palms of the hands from falling
  • Lacerations on the face if the person used fingernails (typically women do this)
  • Remember that fistfights aren’t benign. It’s possible for a fighter to get a concussion, or even a fatal brain bleed, from a fistfight. Harry Houdini died from a man punching him in the stomach when he wasn’t expecting it; he bled to death internally.
  • Also remember that hands are going to swell after a fight, because, well, you’ve just punched them into stuff a lot, and they absorb the same amount of energy as what they just punched, because physics.

I hope this gave you a good place to start off from, anon! Good luck with your story!! xoxo, Aunt Scripty

anonymous asked:

Hi! Could you write a Mick x reader fic where reader gets really jealous when Mick was being flirty with that girl in 2046? And he doesn't understand why reader is acting so weird because he never thought they'd have feelings for him, and eventually reader confesses and he returns their feelings? Thank you so much!! I'm so excited to see Mick x reader fics, there's far too few!

I loved this idea and had loads of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy.

Title: Jealous much

Mick Rory x Reader

—–

Rip had managed to crash land the team in a post-apocalyptic Star city. The year was 2046. This ship need a new neuromorphic cortex in order to fix the ship. The ground team was you, Rip, Sara, Len and Mick. The mission was to make it to building, Smoak technologies, for a prototype that will help repair the ship. The team was soon ambushed by a group of thieves. You take shelter in an abandoned school bus. Rip tells the three of you to stay out of trouble while he goes to find Sara.

“Right” Mick yells to Rip. As soon as he is out of sight he turns to Len. “We’re not gonna stay here right?”

Long story short. Mick had taken out the leader of the thieves and was now the new boss. The thing that ticked you off the most was the harlot that had taken a shine to Mick. He seems to like her way too much. He didn’t even wait for you and Len to follow back to the thieves base. You had to get on the back of the empty bike that Len was now mounting.

*

It has been hours. You and Len were glaring daggers at Mick’s back. That bitch was all over him and he was loving it. His hand was having a fine time at rubbing her ass.

“Oh just mount him already.” You huff out. Len turns to you.

“Are you jealous?”

“What! No. I just … . . she is making a fool out of herself.”

“You like Mick.” Len is grinning now.

“Fine! I like him. Are you happy?”

“Extremely. You need to get over there and do something about her.” He waved his hand in the vague direction of Mick and the woman that was snuggling into his chest. That was the last straw. You stomped over there and stood in front of Mick.

“We need to talk.”

“Back off bitch, he ain’t interested in the likes of you.” She spits out. You lock eyes with her.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, back off!” The woman steps forward raising her fist. You dodge her weak attempt at a punch and return a solid one to her jaw. She stumbles back. “You are gonna regret that.” She launches herself at you. You move to the side and kick her knees out. She falls to the floor. You turn back to Mick.

“Now that nonsense is out of the way, I need to talk to you.”

Mick gestures behind you but not fast enough. The woman grabs you by the hair and pulls you to the ground. Len moves in to intercept the two of you but Mick holds him back.

“We all know she can handle this herself.” Mick sips from his goblet.

You had straddled the woman’s chest and was delivering punch after punch. You had broken her nose and fractured her jaw. You were just so mad.

The sad thing was it wasn’t the woman’s fault. You stop and start panting. This was all Mick’s fault. You look up and stare at him. He is grinning. The little shit was grinning. He was clearly enjoying this.

You stood up and spit the blood from your mouth.

“If you are done being prince of thieves. I’m gonna be back on the ship.” You storm out of there as fast as possible.

*

You had been reading one of the old books from the shelf in Rip’s office when you felt the bed dip.

“Spill it. What was that back there.”

You look up from your book. Mick was looks back with mild concern.

“Why are you here? You were clearly happier being with those people.” You go back to reading.

He takes the book out of your hands. You start after it but he has it just out of your reach. You sit back and fold your arms over your chest.

“Let’s just say Len knocked some sense into me.” He rubs the back of his head. You smirk. “Anyway you said we needed to talk. So spill it.”

“I was just gonna say that you didn’t belong there and we needed you back on the team. Also that fur coat was horrible.”

“First that fur coat was amazing and you know it. Secondly you mind explaining why you went bat shit on Trixie.”

“Oh wow if that isn’t the best whores name out there.” You look away muttering under your breath.

“Hey, look at me (y/n).” He touches your leg lightly.

You scrunch your eyes shut.

“I REALLY LIKE YOU OKAY! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?”

Silence filled the room. You open one eye to look at Mick. He is looking at the floor, clearly thinking.

Fuck he doesn’t like you that way. You thought.

Wait is he laughing.

Mick is throwing his head back in fits of laughter.

“Hey don’t be a dick about it.”

He wipes his eyes and turns to you.

“(y/n) were you jealous of her?”

“Yes.” You huff.

“(y/n) I had no idea you liked me. I would never have let her near me if I knew that.”

“What are you trying to say?” You look at him quizzically.

“I think it is pretty obvious that I like you too.”

Your eyes go wide.

“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” You punctuate each word with a thump to his arm. He takes your arms in his.

“Because I didn’t think you would see me as anything other than a thug.”

You melt into his touch.

“Mick that is one of the many reasons I like you. Not to mention you have an amazing ass.” You chuckle. He joins in.

“Come here (y/n)” He opens his arm for you. You slide up to him and snuggle into his side. He kisses your temple. “I suppose I should buy you a drink.”

“Make it a nice bar and you’re on.”

—–

My inbox is still open for Mick Rory x Reader prompts

anonymous asked:

14 I mean 14!!!!!

I am so glad you guys are enjoying this!  I know I say that all the time, but I really mean it!  Here is Part 14, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Epilogue)


You are finally back into the swing of things.  Matthew has been back at work, you have been cleaning and getting things ready for the baby, and doing a little bit of shopping for diapers and other trinkets you think might do the baby some good.  You are 8 months along, with a due date set for September 4th.  Matthew was even planning a Halloween costume for you all.

Now you just had to wait.

You decided you would go out that afternoon and get a pedicure.  Matthew had told you that it was going to be a short day, and he always had Saturday evenings and Sundays off, so you were looking forward to the time with him.

Venturing off to the spa, you had scheduled a manicure, pedicure, and waxing for all sorts of places.  You wanted to feel nice a beautiful for him this weekend, since you had been living in sweat pants and pregnancy shirts for the last month.  You knew from the way he looked at you that he thought you were beautiful anyway, but a nice surprise wouldn’t hurt.

As you turn off of the road onto the highway, you fiddle with the radio to turn the music on.  And just as you go to look up, you hear a car horn, the crunch of metal, and everything goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Matthew!  Phone call!  They say it’s urgent!” the director shouts.

As Matthew trots over to the phone, he looks at his cell to see if he has gotten any messages.

“Hello?” he says.

“Mr. Gubler?  This is Dr. Klein.”

Pausing, Matthew’s palms start to sweat.  “Is everything alright, Doctor?”

“Do you know a Mrs. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

Matthews face grows pale.  “What’s happened?”

“You need to get to the hospital now, Mr. Gubler.  There’s been an accident.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sliding his car into a parking spot, Matthew and Shemar jump out and rush into the emergency side door.  Matthew runs up to the desk and grabs the shoulder of the nurse sitting down.

“Where is Y/N?”

Knowing who he is talking about, she ushers Matthew to sit down as she pages the doctor.  “Have a seat, the doctor will be in to speak with you.”

“Where is she!?” Matthew yells.  Tears streaming down his cheeks, Shemar takes him by the shoulders and guides him to a chair.

As the doctor walks thru the double doors, he spots Matthew and sits down in front of him.

“Mr. Gubler?”

As Matthew looks up at the doctor, he fumes.  “Tell me what’s going on now.”

“What you need to remember is that she is alive.  They both are.”

Relief flooding Matthew’s body, he shudders as he begins to sob.

“Do you want to see your baby girl?”

As Shemar’s grip tightens on Matthew’s knee, Matthew’s gaze slowly moves up to meet the doctor’s.  “A-Angel…?  But…but she’s only 8 months along…?”

“We had to deliver the baby.  It was imperative so that Y/N could be rushed into surgery.”

“Surgery!?” Matthew jumps up.  “Where is Y/N?  Where is Angel!?”

As Matthew starts to hyperventilate, the nursing staff rushes over to give him oxygen.  Setting him down in a wheelchair, Shemar grabs his face.

“Pull it together.  They are alive, and they needs you.  Both Y/N and Angel.  Now more than ever.”

“Can we see her?  Angel, I mean?”  Shemar asks the doctor.

As the doctor gets behind Matthew to push, he says, “right this way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing in front of the NICU window, Shemar helps Matthew prep to go in and see Angel.  Putting on the scrubs and hair net, Matthew realizes Shemar isn’t prepping.

“Aren’t you coming?” Matthew asks sheepishly.

“This is the first time you’re meeting your baby girl,” Shemar smiles, “this is solely a daddy moment.”

“B-but…what…what about a godfather moment?”

As Shemar stands there stunned, tears crest the corners of his eyes.  “The honored godfather will have a moment…after the father does.”

Grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, Shemar gives him a huge hug.

“Go get ‘er.”

Matthew walks into the NICU, shuffling over to Angel’s little bed.  The nurse attending there asks, “do you want to hold her?”

Looking up at her with glistening eyes, he swallows hard.  “I-…is she ok?”

The nurse grins and says, “she’s perfect.  Even though she was born at 36 weeks, she probably won’t even need a NICU stay.”

As the nurse bends down to pick her up, she looks at Matthew and says, “she’s strong.”  Handing her to Matthew, tears run down his cheeks as he coddles her into his body.  Opening her eyes a little, Angel curls into the warmth of Matthew’s body.

Bending down, he kisses her lightly on her forehead.  “Just like her mother,” he whispers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After 5 hours of surgery, you are finally wheeled into a recovery room.  You had a battered face, a broken nose, a fractured rib, multiple lacerations, 22 stitches, and one hell of a headache.  As you slowly come to, your hand drifts to your stomach, trying to feel for the bulbous protrusion that is no longer there.

Panic setting in, you try to raise yourself up.  Gasping in pain, you yell out.

“Matthew!  Matthew!  Angel?!”

As the nurses come rushing in, they try to pin you back to the hospital bed.  Using your arms to try and wave them off, one of them gives you a sedative into your IV.

“Rest,” one of the nurses says.

“We should go get him,” another one says.

And as all of the voices fade into the background, it’s black once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The nurses bring in a rocking chair for Matthew to sit in with Angel as you are waking up.  Matthew walks into the room, holding onto Angel tight as he takes in your appearance.

Sitting at your side with a sleeping baby, he takes your hand and sobs.

“Oh, Y/N,” he chokes.  “Oh my god…”

As you grunt in pain, your eyes flutter open.

“Y/N?  Y/N, I’m here.” he rubs his hand across your forehead.  “Angel’s here.  Oh, she’s beautiful, Y/N.”

As you blink rapidly, trying to process everything around you, flashes of the accident come rushing back to your memory.

“Oh my god,” you say, tears streaming down your cheeks.  “Matthew, there’s been an accident…” you croak.

“I know,” he whispers in your ear, kissing it lightly.  “You are in the hospital.  They had to deliver Angel.  She’s alright, and so are you. Sh-She’s…perfect. Do you want to see her?”

Tears flooding the crevices of your neck, Matthew stands and lays Angel’s head on your breast, moving your arms so that you can hold her properly.

Sobbing to yourself, you lean down and kiss her chubby little cheeks.  “I am so sorry, Angel,” you choke out in between sobs.  “I am so, so sorry.”

And as Matthew sits there with you, tears running down his face, looking from his beautiful daughter to his beautiful lover, he breathes a shaky sigh of relief. Cradling one arm under yours and wrapping the other around the top of your head, he buries his face into your hair.