hate crutches

Skaters on Crutches

Sometimes I mess around with @daysinrussiavictuuri​ about ridiculous scenarios for HCs (some shall die between us ha ha). So now I give you:

Skaters on Crutches

1. Victor - is useless. He hates them, and just wants to walk Makkachin and be independent. Also: “NO YUURI, I WILL NOT SIT ON THIS COUCH ALL DAY… fine… if you cuddle… YUURI COME BACCCKKKKKKK!”

2. Yuuri - takes the doctor’s orders seriously and will not deviate from the instructions AT ALL, he is the best patient there ever was. Also: “I don’t care if I am only going to the bathroom, the doctor says I have to use them!!”

3. Yuri - hates everyone. Crutches make him grumpy so he hates the doctor who put them under his armpits, he hates Yuuri, Victor and Mila for tattling on him to Yakov for not using them and he hates everyone that gets to walk on 2 feet like the humans they are instead the tripod that Yuri has become. Also: “I may only have one good leg, but I will kick the ish out of you with this cast!!”

4. JJ - rents a knee scooter and foregoes the crutches. He speeds along yelling “It’s JJ style!” sometimes forgetting he needs his hands to steer and crashing into a wall. This is Yuri’s favorite thing ever.

5. Phichit - decorates his cast and then gives his crutches the same treatment. He has bells on both handles, tinsel wrapping the poles of each crutch and his cast is covered in doodles and stickers. He is a little sad when he is parted from all his glorious art work and returned to two-footed living.

5. Minami - sets his crutches too tall because “swinging is the best! Look how fast I can go!” Until he falls down (again) and gets stuck in a wheelchair (which he promptly outfits with a Yuuri fan flag and learns how to drag race) Also included on his chair is a bumper sticker for his Tumblr @askminamimcnugget

6. Guang Hong Ji - doesn’t need crutches. Leo insists on staying with him and carrying him in piggy back everywhere they go. When Leo ends up on crutches, Guang Hong tries to return the favor, and end ups back on crutches.

7. Chris - sets his crutches too short and asks everyone if his butt is sticking out too far. Also uses the line “my pants might get stuck and trip me!” as his reason for ONLY wearing leggings during his crutches use.

8. Seung-gil - no one even knew he was on crutches. He disappeared for a bit and only reappeared when he was healed, never admitting to anyone that the injury occurred.

9. Otabek - stoic about the crutches use, but if you stand close enough to him you can hear him muttering death threats to the inanimate objects braced under his arms pits. Some of the most creative include mentions of bonfires, dragging them behind him motorcycle and feeding them to a three-headed hell dog (Yuuri hears the last one and regrets googling the image).

10. Georgi - Cries over getting crutches, so the Russian team steals them, spray paints them purple and black and COVERS them in glitter. Then Georgi cries because they are so beautiful.

11. Sara – Michele was an avid follower of the “Leo carrying Guang Hong everywhere” Instagram story and insists on trying to carry Sara instead of letting her use the crutches. She uses her crutches to sweep the legs out from Michele and races off on them to find Mila.

12. Mila – looks like a bad ass even on crutches and no one can figure out how crutches became a fashion trend, but the assumption is that it is all Mila’s fault.

13. Emil – owns his own custom-made titanium steal crutches with E+M in a heart engraved on the side. When asked why he responds with “it is more cost effective and you know… love.”

14. Michele – does not understand why Emil wants to lend him Emil’s personalized crutches so badly. Also pouts constantly that Sara will not wait on him hand and foot. Threatens at least three separate men who approach Sara by saying “I might be on crutches but I can still kick your butt!”


Yakov – The first time he ends up on crutches is after he loses a battle with Makkachin’s leash when the dog became enamored with a squirrel and took off. Victor said Makkachin would be happy to romp in the yard and didn’t need daily walks, but Yakov couldn’t resist the begging eyes peeking out from underneath the brown flop of curls.

The second time he ends up on crutches is when Yuri’s cat gets out of the house and ends up in a tree. He can’t let the cat STAY THERE, resulting in crutches for two weeks and an argument with his doctor about why he doesn’t need a round of rabies shots.

He never tells anyone how or why he got hurt, but he does make both Victor and Yuri do quads until they lay sprawled close to death in the middle of the ice.

actually-nerdderek  asked:

how about a 00q fic involving q's cats (if this is too vague i can get more detailed but if it's not have fun?)

He’s not sure why he ever agreed to this, to be honest. He should have said no. And not just no, but hell no. But he didn’t and now he’s stuck and has to put up with this for another 3 days.

“How are they?” Q asks as soon as Bond picks up his ringing cell phone.

“I’m just fine, dear, thanks for asking,” James replies sarcastically. He can hear Q sigh on the other line, but he says nothing else. Finally, James gives in, knowing that Q will just keep waiting or hang up until James answers his original question.

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sorcererinslytherin  asked:

Gavin breaks his ankle. It's just a hairline fracture but Caleb immediately forbids him from walking on it. He hates crutches, so Gavin just uses this as an excuse to be an octopus at /all moments/. He forces Ryan to carry him piggy-back through the house. Climbs onto Geoff to be cuddled and carried. Clings to Jeremy. Hauls himself onto Michael. The only one he's only remotely respectful to is Jack because he knows she'll call his bullshit and dump him right back on the floor.

gavin would always use any excuse to be carried by the others and now he just has the perfect one and you know he’s going to milk it as much as possible. even when he’s relatively alright, just a perfect puppy dog eyes will get them sighing and helping him up. maybe he abuses it a little, but can you really blame him? he fucking loves that they’re all strong enough to hold him. and he really, really hates crutches


Crutchie hasn’t invited Jack home before because of his OCD. Now that he has, things are starting to go downhill.

Set a year or two before this story.

It had been three months since Jack and Crutchie had got together and not once had Jack been to Crutchie’s apartment. Crutchie would tell Davey that it was because he was worried about introducing them but he would always tell Jack that it was because his house was always a mess.

Crutchie’s house was not a mess.

Crutchie’s house was never a mess.

Truthfully, Crutchie was just too worried about how he’d react if anything happened; if something was out of place or if Jack touched anything. He had a pretty bad case of OCD and if his things were moved, even if only slightly, he couldn’t help but squirm and feel the need to fix it every few minutes, regardless of how perfectly he had positioned it.

Therefore, when Crutchie took Jack home after a date for the first time, it was safe to say that he was quite nervous. So nervous that he had forgotten to even let Davey, who was studying upstairs in his bedroom, know that they’d got back. Instead, he had led Jack straight to the living room and set his crutch down beside him, sitting rigid.

He soon relaxed, however, when Jack snaked his arms around his waist and pulled him against his body. They lay together, Crutchie simply breathing in the scent of Jack’s lemon and ginger shampoo and shuddering every time the boy’s fingers trailed over the exposed skin on his hip. He hated the way that it made Jack smile, one corner of his lip tugging up as he pressed lazy kisses to the skin directly below Crutchie’s ear. Jack travelled his lips along Crutchie’s neck, eventually turning the smaller boy gently so that he could reach his lips. Crutchie kissed him, drinking in the other boy as Jack tasted his cherry chapstick.

When Crutchie pulled away, he kept his neck straight so that he could look down at Jack through lowered lids, unable to hold the smile from his face as Jack’s lips tried to follow his. He lowered his head again, pressing a soft kiss to Jack’s lips as he twisted the fabric of his too-long sleeves in his shaking hands.

“Okay, sorry, I need to pee.” Crutchie laughed as he finally pulled away from Jack, peeling himself from his body as he reached for his crutch. Falling to his knees as he lunged for his crutch, Crutchie couldn’t help but laugh as the wooden stick went tumbling in the other direction. He smiled as Jack rushed to help, propping him up and bowing to one knee, offering him his crutch as if it were a sword with a laugh.

Crutchie knew he was lucky. He knew that life didn’t have to offer him Jack, he didn’t have to have found him but he was terribly happy he had. Jack was kind and sweet and caring and all of the things that Crutchie loved. He was also stubborn and arrogant and annoying but in the best way.

Eventually, when Crutchie returned, things started to go downhill. Jack had obviously got curious. He was stood by the sideboard, picking up a photo frame every so often to look at it.

As he watched, Crutchie could feel himself beginning to shake. He began carefully tapping a gentle Waltz beat into the handle of his crutch as he hobbled over. He tried to play it cool, fixing everything that Jack set down and continuing to do so as he picked up more and more frames. He hated doing this, hated having to constantly right anything even slightly off but Crutchie couldn’t help but feel everything was out of place. He even fixed the frames that he had already fixed, determined that they weren’t quite right.

As wonderful as Jack was, he was a little oblivious. As he continued to pick up frames and ask Crutchie about them, he blindly nudged frames on his way, not noticing that Crutchie was growing increasingly stressed about the positions of the frames behind him.

There was a clattering on the stairs and both boys turned to see a disheveled looking Davey staring at them from the bottom step. His dark hair was falling limply on his forehead, covering his left eye, and his old, ratty pyjama bottoms were trailing along the floor around his heels from where the hem had fallen out. Crutchie squeaked slightly when he saw him, realising that he’d forgotten to tell him that they were home, or to tell Jack that he even had a roommate.

Davey looked just as shocked as Jack and Crutchie, not realising that his roommate was bringing the boy he’d talked about for so long home. Although Davey was happy to meet Jack, he would have liked a little warning to shower and get dressed. It was finals week and Davey had been running on caffeine for the last thirty-six hours. He had dark, purple bruises under his eyes and hadn’t brushed his hair in four days.

Appraising the situation quickly, Davey caught sight of the photo frame in Jack’s hands and frowned. He knew that the sideboard with the photos was one of Crutchie’s main obsessions in the apartment, needing it to be perfect at all times, he wouldn’t just allow the boy to move things.

It clicked immediately that Crutchie hadn’t told Jack. It just made so much sense. Although Davey would never normally greet anyone in his pyjamas, he strode straight over towards the pair and offered his hand for Jack to shake, trying desperately to distract the smaller, blonde boy from the picture frames, “Hi, you must be Jack. I’m Davey, Crutchie’s roommate.” Flicking his eyes to Crutchie for the briefest of seconds, he tried to hide the worry from his eyes as he looked back to Jack. He didn’t want Crutchie to blame him for Jack turning around and seeing him tapping a Waltz beat into his crutch handle, muttering the numbers under his breath and trying to find something other than the sideboard to stare at.

“Oh, yes, hi. Sorry, I didn’t realise Crutchie had a roommate.” Jack was looking relatively shell-shocked as he distractedly set the frame down on the counter, where Crutchie took it immediately and twisted it around in the place where it had been until it was immaculately centred.

Laughing, Davey held Jack’s gaze desperately, doing his best not to let him turn around and see Crutchie falling apart behind him, “How about I make us lunch? Just, you two come and help me in the kitchen.” He smiled and gestured over his shoulder for the two boys to follow him. Once they arrived, Jack and Davey washed their hands before clearing the sink to let Crutchie in as they began gathering ingredients for omelettes.

Crutchie breathed out shakily as he squeezed some soap out onto his hand, scrubbing at them fiercely under the gradually heating water. When he was done, he did it again. And again. And again.

It didn’t take long for Davey to feel Jack’s curious gaze on him, crawling along his neck as he tried desperately to think of what to do. Crutchie wouldn’t want him to tell Jack but it was looking more and more likely that he was going to have to, “Um, Crutch?” Davey carefully reached across and turned off the tap, taking Crutchie’s hands and holding them in front of him to make him look at him, “Charlie.”

Appearing to snap out of it, Crutchie seemed to realise where he was standing as he looked down at his stinging, red fingers before glancing up to Jack. He bowed his head, blinking shining eyes as he tried desperately to avoid Jack’s gaze, “Jack, I-”

When it became obvious that Crutchie wasn’t going to be able to continue, Davey squeezed his hand until the boy looked at him. He smiled lightly, mouthing his words only slightly and nodding when he got a response. Davey turned to Jack, allowing Crutchie to tap out his familiar beat on the back of his hand as he folded softly into his side, “Jack, Charlie has OCD. He didn’t want to tell you because he thought that you’d laugh at him or think it was too much hassle and leave.” Davey gently let go of Crutchie’s hand in favour of wrapping his arm around his waist, feeling the familiar rhythm on the side of his thigh instead.

Jack’s confused eyes softened drastically as soon as he got an explanation. He looked between them for a moment, obviously happy to see that Crutchie had a support system that he was so comfortable with, before carefully prising Crutchie away from Davey to make him look at him, “Crutch, I love you, you know? Nothing’s ever gonna scare me away.”

Simply staring at him as Jack traced his thumb lightly over the top of his cheekbones, Crutchie felt the words ringing in his ears over and over again. They hadn’t said, ‘I love you,’ before and Crutchie hadn’t really expected it to have been in front of his best friend but all of a sudden, Crutchie’s heart started hammering against it’s cage as he threw his arms around Jack’s neck, allowing his crutch to fall to the floor as Jack caught him, “I love you, too.” He couldn’t hold his smile, pressing quick kisses to Jack’s lips over and over again as he mumbled the three words between each one.

Davey smiled as he watched them, silently slipping the hob off on the oven and going to sneak out of the doorway before remembering that he had to remind his roommate of something, “Hey, Crutch?” He hated to break up the happy moment but he knew that he needed to remind him, “Remember to clear your old dance stuff out of the spare room, Race is moving in next week.”

The Bodyguard- ch. 11

Happy Saturday! Here is a nice long chapter! Revel in the fact that we are getting another season and enjoy our little AU! 

Not caught up?

Chapter 10

“Are you sure you’re up to this, Mulder? I know exercise is good but crutches on grass can make for a dangerous combination,” Scully says warily as they continue their trek across the grounds of the property. The estate is situated on a bluff and she assumes they’re headed towards the edge to get a view of the ocean. She’s not complaining, much preferring the sea and the smell of salt in the air to the stuffy, old mansion, but at the same time she doesn’t want Mulder overexerting himself, possibly taking a fall on her watch.

“Well it’s a good thing my escort is a doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor. I was pre-med,” she corrects.

“You’ve got a gun on you though. If I take a tumble just fire off a round as a cry for help,” Mulder says simply.

“Well so long as you have a plan. How much further are you taking us?”

He stops then, raises his crutch to point to an old wooden porch swing in the distance and she nods. The distance is doable, and at least once they get there he’ll be able to sit.

“Ladies first,” Mulder says once they reach the swing. Shaking her head, Scully folds her arms.

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I wish I was able to play support more. I’m sick and tired of playing mid, and I’m not experienced enough at jungling or ADC to enjoy it. I tell my team that I hate being a crutch and don’t want to jungle, but they force me to anyway and surprise! We lose. Sometimes I contemplate refunding Rakan and his skin considering I never get to play with it anyway.

my kneecap is messed up and I’m in a brace and can’t do anything that requires walking (because I hate my crutches lmao), give me ideas about what yall wanna see on this blog please.

requests, competitions, posts, anything you guys!!

For the prompt from the lovely @vannguyen0507: A/B/O Jaydick AU where Dick has a miscarriage. Fortunately, Jason’s there to comfort him :)

Dick hadn’t left the bed in five days. Jason had long since begun to worry about him. Dick had been so excited for this. He’d spent a fortune on clothes, the nursery, baby food, milk, everything they could ever possibly need was stored up in their apartment. Everything was baby proofed. There was a crib at the foot of their bed.

But now there was no baby. 

Jason hadn’t really talked to anyone since it happened (seven months of pain for this?), but he’d at least left the apartment. Dick hadn’t moved. He would barely talk to Jason, he would barely eat. He’d lost all the pregnancy weight too quickly with how little he’d been eating. Jason worried that he’d waste away to nothing if he continued like this. 

Jason looked up from the newspaper in his hands, and stared at their bedroom door. It was shut, as always, but at least it wasn’t locked anymore. Jason stood and walked toward the door. Carefully he opened it. The lights were on, thankfully. Dick was sitting in the middle of the bed, his legs folded beneath them, a small fluffy brown teddy bear held tightly in his grasp. Jason went and sat on the bed next to him. 

“I know we hadn’t agreed on a name, but I thought of one,” he said quietly. Jason made a curious noise. 

“I was thinking we could name him Jonathan, you know, like my dad. And then maybe give him the middle name Bruce. Bruce is basically our father, he’s done so much for us. It would have been right." 

Jason wasn’t sure he entirely agreed, but he wouldn’t argue the name. Not now anyway. 

"I think it’s perfect,” he said instead. “He would’ve been a handful with a name like that. Named after a Flying Grayson and a Wayne. He’d have been the death of us.” Jason laughed at the image that formed in his mind. A strong willed little boy with bright blue eyes and pitch black hair, running around the mansion driving everyone absolutely insane. Jason’s alpha senses were killing him. Torturing him for the loss of his baby, his son. He couldn’t even imagine how Dick was feeling. Jason put his arms around Dick and pulled him close. He rested his head on Jason’s chest, and soon tears were falling from his eyes. He’d cried so much in the past few days, Jason didn’t even know how he even had any tears left to lose. 

“What are we going to do, Jay?” He choked out, breath hitching on Jason’s name. Jason sighed.

“We’ll grieve,” he said, because it was the unavoidable truth, and they both knew it. “Then, as time goes by things will get better, and maybe one day we’ll try again." 

Dick gripped Jason’s sleeve in a tight fist. Jason wasn’t sure if he should be mentioning trying again so soon, he wasn’t really sure what the etiquette for this kind of thing was, he’d never thought he’d need to know (he’d hoped he’d never need to know). But alas, here they were. 

"Maybe,” Dick said. Jason held him tighter. It was more than he’d ever thought he’d get. Not a promise, not even a solid yes, but a maybe, and that was good enough for him.

“It’s my fault,” Dick whispered suddenly, the horror in his voice clear. Jason pulled away and looked Dick straight in the eye.

“You listen to me Dick Grayson, this is could never be your fault. Never. This was his fucking fault, and if I ever find him again I swear to God I’ll fucking kill him. You never did anything wrong,” he said forcefully. Jason preferred not to think about what had happened, but if either of them had to it would be him. Dick had been at the grocery store when it was robbed by men in masks. They’d been careless, too sure of themselves. One idiot’s gun had gone off, and landed straight in Dick’s stomach. Jason had spent every waking moment since trying to find the man, and he was close. He was very, very close. 

“I deserved it, I can’t even do the one thing omega’s are supposed to do,” Dick gasped suddenly. Jason tried to stop him from talking, but he mowed over him. “We’re supposed to be able to take care of children. Have kids and keep kids safe, that’s what we do. Why couldn’t I do that? Why, Jason why?” He cried. Jason pulled him into his arms and shushed him.

“You don’t deserve it Dick, you could never.”

“Yes I do,” he sobbed. Jason clenched his eyes shut, cursing the tears that got through.

“What about me, Dickie? Did I deserve it? Because this didn’t just happen to you, it happened to both of us. If you deserved it, then I did too.” He replied. Dick stopped the denials immediately. 

“No, of course not. You’re perfect Jason, you don’t deserve this,” he said. 

“Then neither do you,” Jason whispered fiercely, practically begging Dick to believe him. He knew they’d get passed this, one day, when the literal and figurative wounds weren’t so raw. When they could pass the second bedroom door without going weak in the knees, when there was another, different crying infant in their arms. On that day things would be good, but for now…

For now this was enough. 

“So what do you say?” Jason asked. “Dinner sound good? I made spaghetti.” Jason coaxed. Dick looked up at him, a soft barely there smile on his face. It was a relief, that was the first smile Dick had given in the two weeks since the shooting. 

“Yeah,” Dick said. “Sounds good, but only if you carry me to the couch. I hate those crutches.” Dick said, glaring at them across the room. Jason snorted. 

“Of course, anything for my princess." 

"M'not a princess Jay, shut up and carry me.” He said, arms spread wide. Jason smiled and picked him up in a bridal carry. He carried Dick through the apartment happily. They still pretended the second bedroom didn’t exist, and Dick carried the teddy bear with him to the couch, but that was fine. They were getting better, but for now, this was enough. 

BTS Taking Care of You When You’re Sick


You woke up from your sleep groggy, grumpy, and more than a little exhausted. Feeling as if somebody had slammed your head with a hammer, you desperately tried to sit up amidst your mountain of pillows and covers. Immediately, seemingly out of nowhere, you felt Seokjin’s strong hands on you: the small of your back, the crown of your head. He arranged your pillows so that you could comfortably sit up, and then placed his bowl of homemade seaweed soup onto your nightstand. Seokjin sat down next to your bed, grabbed his utensil, and lifted a spoonful of the broth to your mouth.

“No, Jin! I look like a trash bag and my breath smells so bad–”

“You look beautiful, and I don’t care. Open up… Ah, that’s a good girl.” 


Sweaty was an understatement as to how gross you felt. Your hair wouldn’t stop sticking to your face, your feet were cold whilst your head felt hot, and you found yourself snuggled under thousands of blankets with the air conditioning on full blast. Feeling like the north and south poles were raging a war on you, you didn’t notice Yoongi gently shaking you awake. With a small cloth, he wiped the sweat beading upon your temples, whispering softly in your ear as to not startle you. He patted your back comfortingly, hand rubbing circles into your waist, massaging you.

“Wake up, baby.”


“Come on, princess. I’ve got a bath waiting for you–how does that sound, hm? Do you want to take a bath?”

“…Will you be there?”

“Of course, baby. Come on, up you go–’atta girl.”


You’d been passed out for two days straight, and Hoseok was beginning to seriously worry. Though you’d been sick before, you had always been able to bounce back quickly. Wringing out a cloth with ice water, Hoseok quietly walked back to your room. He folded the cloth into a neat rectangle, and smoothing away some of your stray hair, he gently placed it onto your forehead. You twitched and hissed slightly in your sleep from the cold, and Hoseok felt his heart ache. Sitting down next to you, he curled his hand around yours, still remembering how you had tried to get out of bed yesterday, half delirious.

“Baby, seriously! You can’t go to class, okay? You’re sick!”

“I’m not sick, Hoseok! I need to get to rehearsals… I need to… I need to–”

“God no, please, honey! Just rest! Can you rest? Please? For me?”

Rap Monster

It was like the minute you were sick, Namjoon knew all of the ins and out of your symptoms. Whether it be cramps to fevers to vomiting, he would always take you to the doctor immediately, even if your prescription was the usual “go home and rest”. He spent his time taking care of you, never letting the thought of you leave his mind, even when he was focusing on work and his new compositions. In fact, he almost grew obsessive, constantly checking up on you. But you couldn’t blame him–after all, what would you do without that smile? What would you with those supportive words? He saw to it that you took your medication promptly, and even tucked you into bed at night. What more could you want in a boyfriend?

“So the doctor said to take three pills after each meal, and then another three right before bed, okay?”

“The doctor just said ‘go home and rest’, Namjoon.”

“No, that’s not your doctor. I am.”


There was nobody more perfect to take care of you than Park Jimin, you were sure of it. From the minute you had started vomiting, he never once thought you to be disgusting or gross. Though you constantly denied your so-called “beauty”, Jimin showered you in a ridiculous amount of love. The two of you had officially moved into the living room, where Jimin created the best fort of pillows, stuffed animals, and blankets just for you. He lit your favorite candles and played your favorite shows, never letting you for a second do anything for yourself. Ask and you would receive, that’s what he kept saying. And ask and receive, you did.

“I just want you to stay here with me forever and give me kisses and cuddles. Is that too much to ask?”

“Oh baby, you know I’ll give you all of that, and so much more.” 


You had never been sick in your time dating Taehyung, and you found yourself extremely humiliated. Most of the time, you were strong and sarcastic and the epitome of the female warrior, and here you were, curled up on the bed, defeated by the most stupid of things: cramps. Cursing your stupid menstrual cycle, you wanted to throw something at the wall–that is, if you could leave your fetal position for more than a minute. Taehyung couldn’t understand why you refused to see him, even going so far as shutting the door in his face. You were embarrassed, okay? It was stupid, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. But then you saw Taehyung at the foot of your bed, and before you could process it, he had thrown the covers back and sidled himself next to you.

“Tae, what are you doing?!”

“Sleeping with you.”

“Oh my god, please, just go away–”

“That’s not going to work on me.”

“Tae, there is blood coming out of my vagina. I don’t think that–”

“You think some blood is going to scare me? I don’t care about your period, you know. You’re still my girlfriend, and I’m going to stay here and take care of you whether you like it or not.”


Crutches. You blew some of your hair out of your face and cursed the heavens. Crutches–you hated crutches. Of course, of course you had to break your leg right before tryouts. It frustrated you, not being able to do a single goddamn thing without having your armpits hurt. Thank the lord for you sweet, dorky ass boyfriend. Jungkook constantly cheered you up, especially on days when your injury truly hit you hard–you couldn’t go to tryouts. You would not be on the team for this season. And yet every time you began to cry, tears and snot running down your face, Jungkook made you smile and giggle like an idiot. He swept you off of your feet (or should you say, foot?) and twirled you around. Pecking you on the lips, he comforted you shamelessly despite the pink blush filling his cheeks.

“Don’t cry, okay? I’m here. And there are always tryouts next year, aren’t there? So don’t be sad. You’ll be better in no time at all. I believe in you.”

bc i’m sick af rn :(


-Admin V

Teen Wolf Preference: How They Kiss You For The First Time...

Requested by anon


Stiles did this thing…this thing where he’d cup the back of you neck and it was the most amazing thing in the world. You’d been awkward and fumbling…Stiles on the other hand had been surprisingly confident in the way he kissed you from where he placed his hands to how his lips moved against your own…and it was amazing. 


Lydia was this slow and confident kisser, while you were half unaware of what was happening completely dazed by this amazing woman kissing you…it left you breathless and unbelievably happy. Because you’d been pining after her for a goddamn long time now and it was just nice to finally have that reciprocated and to feel her lips against your own.


It was quick and you were probably the most confident person in that kiss. He’d been carrying you about all day after you hurt your ankle and hated using crutches…there was just something about being in his arms that led to lips touching and a release of tension  that had been building up for the past month. 


You’d been fighting again. You’d been at each others throats from the moment you met. It had reached a point in the disagreement that you started to walk away…until he pulled you back and suddenly lips were on yours and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck…maybe you didn’t dislike each other as you thought…

Luckiest Woman Alive


Warnings: Obviously, swearing

I had always hated being so short. It was honestly probably my least favorite quality in myself. My entire life all I wanted was to reach the top cabinet without getting a chair or any help. That never happened.

Now here I was, in the middle of the night, standing on a chair in the kitchen to get a late night bowl of cereal. Curse my late night cravings. I was trying so desperately not to wake my boyfriend Phil or his flatmate Dan. They had stayed up editing their new gaming video, and I didn’t want to wake them as they were exhausted. 

The only chair in the room had been a computer chair with wheels, so I was trying to be extra careful. Somehow I still managed to lose footing, and came crashing down, cereal box and all falling on top of me. 

“Shit fuck! OH MY GOD!” I yelled out, I didn’t think I could move. My leg was in extreme pain. 

Phil scrambled out of our room and came rushing to my side.

“Y/N! What happened?! Are you alright?” Phil began removing the box of cereal off of me, along with the stray pieces that flew out of the box.

“No, my leg hurts so bad. I think I might of broken it.” Tears began streaming down my face. This wouldn’t be the first time I had broken a bone, so the pain was like a familiar enemy. 

Dan came rushing from his bedroom, he really was late for everything.

“Jesus on a bicycle, what the fuck happened Y/N?” He stared at you with wide eyes.

I explained everything that happened while both boys prepared to pick me up. Obviously we were going to make a trip to the hospital tonight, and I could not walk. The pain was sharp. I must of apologized a thousand times for waking them up.

“Y/N, it’s fine! I’m just glad you didn’t hit your head or anything..” Phil sighed while glancing at you in thee rear view mirror in your car. They had laid you in the back seat to stretch out your leg. 

“Yeah, I would much rather you get us up for a box of cereal than to wake us up with a trip to the hospital at 2 am.” Dan added with a chuckle. 

I knew he was making a joke, but a pang of guilt shot into my chest. He wasn’t wrong. I knew they were both pretty clumsy themselves, but I still felt like I was an added burden with all the times I hurt myself on a daily basis. 

The doctor only confirmed my fears that I had broken it. They gave me a lime green cast and some crutches. I hated this. I felt so helpless, and now Phil was stuck with taking care of me, like a helpless child. I apologized the whole ride home, through silent tears.

After we had gotten home, Dan went back to bed. But Phil stayed up with me. He had gotten a ton of pillows and blankets and we snuggled engulfed in blankets watching movies. 

Phil nuzzled against me. “I’m so glad you’re okay baby.” He whispered to me.

I took his hand in mine and rested my head on his shoulder. “I don’t feel fine. I feel useless and now you’re stuck with helping me do shit.” My words were dripping in guilt and self pity. 

“Y/N, you could of been hurt so much worse, you could of easily hit your head and been knocked unconscious.” His face scrunched up before he softly kissed me. His kisses were always so loving and tender. I relaxed a bit.

“I know, I just feel so ba-” He cut me off mid sentence and turned to face me, taking both my hands in his own.

“Don’t. I love helping you, it makes me feel like I’m fulfilling my manly duties.” He laughed before continuing. His face much more serious now.

“I love you more than anything. You really scared me, love. i don’t care if you wake me up, if you need help, I will always be here. You are my life. You are what I worry about, you are what brightens my day. I don’t know what I would do without you. So please, come to me. And please don’t use rolling chairs to stand on anymore. I’ll throw them all out if I have to.” He chuckled. 

And I kissed him. Slowly, tenderly, passionately. I never imagined anyone could love me this much, and here I was with the man of my dreams, watching cheesy horror films and cuddling.

I am the luckiest woman alive.  

You're injured.

Taking preference Requests. I have officially decided that when I am stuck or don’t feel like writing my fan Fics I’ll do preferences. Also I think I’ll start a system. Preferences during the week and fan Fics on weekends, because preferences are quicker to write and it gives you all something to read. Xxx
oh and follow me on twitter @Xmissmex

You’re injured.

Harry: Just last night while you were practicing tennis, you hurt yourself. A night of practicing turned into a night of agonizing pain, and a trip to the hospital. Your collar bone snapped, you don’t even know how you managed to break it, but you know it most certainly snapped and was painful. You pick out the clothes you want to wear for the day, leggings and a sweater. Harry stays in bed watching you, before you look at him. “What?” you question before throwing your leggings into the draw, waning your jeans. He doesn’t reply he just watches you. You pull down your pajama bottoms before sliding your jeans up your legs slowly. With just one hand, it was very hard. Once you manage to get your jeans to your waste, you look at Harry. “If you ask I’ll help” he chimes, finding your slight stubbornness amusing. “I can do it” you shake your head. Trying to jump a little, to get your jeans perfectly fit. “Uhm I take that back, I can’t do my buttons.” you sigh, he gets up and comes to you. Without a problem he buttons up your jeans, before getting your hoodie. “I’m going to look stupid.” you groan, before he places the hoodie through the neck, helping you slide your good side in the sleeve. “Don’t try get your other arm in the sleeve” he warns you. “But I look stupid.”
“Do you want more pain?”
“Then listen, don’t” he kisses your cheek.

Liam: This morning while you were training your group you train on a daily basis, you sprained both your wrists, of one wasn’t bad enough, you managed both. After you did your push ups, you were running before tripping and falling on both wrists- an instinct being putting your hands out to break your fall. You’re lucky you didn’t break your wrists. You walk around the house aimlessly bored. There’s nothing you can do without your hands, and this irritates you. You can’t sit still for very long. “Stop pacing around you’re making me nervous.” Liam complains as he scribbles something down. “I’m bored” you whine, stomping to the kitchen. You open the cupboard reaching for a glass, clasping it in your hand, before it drops to the floor- you completely forgetting that your wrists are sprained. “Good going.” Liam sighs, walking in. “Oops.” you bite your lip before Liam makes you sit down away from touching anything. He cleans up the mess before preparing you something to eat. “How do I eat it?” you sigh looking down at the food.
He laughs before he starts to feet you, “awah” you coo feeling special that he’s feeding you. “Have you learnt your lesson?”
“Yes sprain my wrists more, liam feeds me.” you joke,
“No, don’t sprain your wrists because Liam wont always feed you.” he corrects you, placing another spoonful in your mouth being sweet.

Niall: this evening you spent your time at the hospital. After a small game of Football with Niall and the boys, you were left with severe pain in your knee. You kicked the ball, and felt a click in your knee, resorting to pain.
You sway on the crutches hopping on one foot. “A hyper-extended knee” Niall says on the phone talking to your mother who he had told. You roll your eyes hating the crutches. Already they are annoying you. You put the crutches down, before trying to walk on your own. “ow” you screech, regretting your decision. Niall hurries over to you, putting his arm around your waste. “Crutches young lady.” he says, and helping you with them. You sigh,
Hopping to the stairs, “Want help”
“I can do it” you mutter knowing he will smother you. You try to hop up the stairs but it was actually exhausting, the pain meds kicking in. “The offer is still there.” he comments right behind you. “Please?” I whisper, and he helps you up the stairs before picking you up, carrying you to the room. He places you on the bed before placing pillows under and around your knee, making sure to keep you as painless as possible. “I know what it’s like to have a bad knee, just let me help” he whispers, before he starts to gently massage your saw leg, soothing the pain.

Louis: After playing with your niece yesterday, chasing her around and picking her up, you pulled a muscle in your back, you didn’t think this would happen unless you were playing a severe sport, clearly not. Louis has done his best to keep you comfy, fluffing your pillows, making sure not to move the bed in any way, or put you in pain. “Louis” you call, before he runs up the stairs. “Need food? A drink? Meds? Did the TV remote drop?” he quickly asks,
“no, can you help me have a bath?”
“that’s not a good idea”
“I need a bath, please?” you beg, and he gives in. “What if I hurt you?” he bites his lip, but you shake your head, “you won’t” you reply, letting him help you off the bed. You wince a little, grabbing onto him. He slowly walks with you to the bathroom, “hold the sink” he instructs, shifting your weight to the sink. He turns the water on, before he helps you undress. He carefully helps you into the bath. The warm water soothing you. “Feel good?”
“Yes, Can I have a towel?”
“for what?”
“my neck” you reply, he quickly grabs a towel, hanging it to you. You place the towel around your neck for some support. After watching you relax, Louis washes down your back carefully. Helping you clean the rest of your body. “Slowly” he whispers, helping you up, his arm supporting your back. He wraps a towel around you, before helping you step out of the bathroom. Without asking he gets another towel, and dries your legs off, before helping you into your room, where he dresses you.

Zayn: While practicing your dance routine, and creating a routine for your dance class, you pulled your calf muscles, both of them. You tried to do a specific dance move, stretching your legs out too far on accident, pulling them both. You’ve pulled your muscles before many, many times. But never have you manages to pull both your calf muscles. You sit in the dance studio on the couch, your legs both resting on the exsersize ball. “And 1,2,3 and 4” you call to your two dances watching as they dance. Zayn walks in the studio, coming straight over to you. “No dancing means no teaching.” he comments sitting next to you. “I can’t not teach.”
“how did you get here?” he questions and you smile. “My dancers picked me up, now Shh”
“I said no leaving the house and no walking.”
“Y/N” he sighs before your dances finish. “Great, just finish a little sharper.” you call to them before they practice. “Do your legs hurt?”
“very much yes.” you reply unable to even stretch your legs. Zayn loves and sits on the floor, before slipping off your flats. He starts to gently massage your feet, hoping to help with the pain. “Thank you so much.” you release, relaxing as you lean back on the couch. “Mmhm” he sounds slowly moving up to your calves. “no, no please don’t” you beg, but he careful massages them, not applying pressure.

(I’ve pulled my calf muscle vefore it hurts so bad, and it’s hard to walk for like 3 days)

We Build Then We Break

Her patience was short. Her temper was even shorter. She was frustrated. She was scared and she was angry. And the fact that she had the most loving, understanding and patient support system behind her only added guilt and regret to the past month.

One month.

That was how long it had been since the ghosts attacked their limo. Thanks to a very discreet doctor and a lot of money, Felicity was, by all paperwork and most people were concerned, dead. Darhk seemed to believe it at least, since he’d kept his distance from Oliver ever since.

Felicity knew that those bullets could have hit Oliver just as easily as they hit her, so she didn’t mind having to play dead for however long it was necessary. She hid in the loft, or in the foundry, but no one besides their close team had seen her since they snuck her out of the hospital on a gurney, like a dead body. 

Felicity pulled her sunglasses, wig, and scarf off, already irritated at how hard it was to do while balancing on one leg. “Why did you bring me here? Someone might see me.”

“I have a present for you. And I sent everyone home today. Just look.” Curtis was smiling at her like a kid on Christmas, waiting for her reaction.

She just stared. “What is it?”

“It’s a brace, for you leg….so you can walk.” He held a tiny black metal box in his hand. When he hit a trigger piece, it fell apart and looked more like a leg brace.


“Felicity, just hear me out. It’s a brace on steroids!” He picked up the black metal contraption and pointed at a keypad, “This will be right on your thigh.” he began, “These buttons will tighten and loosen it, depending on what you need. And if you push this one, your knee will bend. This one here,” he pointed, “can test your sensitivity, it will see if you regain feeling, and it’ll be great when you’re in rehab. It can massage your leg, heat or cool your muscles, and help you stretch.”

He was still staring at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

“No.” Felicity said.

“Felicity, come on!" Curtis groaned, "I know you hate those crutches! And you hated that week in the wheelchair even more. This might actually help you…please just try it on.”

“Help me?” Felicity asked, her voice low. “My right leg is paralyzed, Curtis. I can’t feel anything and I will probably never walk on it again.”

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No matter what / Zayn centric

Prompt: Can you do when where Zayn has a sickness or something and because of it he can’t use his left and has to use crutches. He gets the chance to meet the boys and they fall in love with him and please make it fluffy

word Count: 2.9k

“I am going to meet them tomorrow,” Zayn said loudly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And who are you going with? You know you can’t go there on your own,” Doniya, Zayn’s older sister replied.

“You can come with me. I just to see them in real life and thank them,” Zayn argued and Doniya just rolled her eyes.

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anonymous asked:

doctor/maybe nurse idk/-patient percabeth au

Once the cast is set, Annabeth pats the guy on the knee. He looks miserable. It’s clear that skateboarding is his life; he came into the emergency room carrying the thing, broken in two, carried by his two friends. After consultation and x-rays, she helped him into the room and told him he needed a cast for a few months, and his face just fell like it was the worst thing he’d ever heard.

He looks like a skateboarder. Messy hair. Thick shoes. Scars running up his shins and arms, a thin one along his forehead where a helmet might not protect. When she starts explaining after-care to him, she can tell he starts blanking out, so she pinches him at the soft skin underneath his knee. “Hey.”

“Sorry. Sorry. I just hate crutches.”

“Not your first time, I see.”

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