hate crutches

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’m gonna vent a moment and obviously not naming people, but I’m not gonna act like I’m not pissed. They won’t see it anyway (I’m blocked). 

But this car wreck has completely ruined my senior year. I’ve missed prom, I’ve missed chances for field trips. I couldn’t do any work for weeks so now I’m incredibly behind and stressed out. Today it was confirmed that I’ll be on crutches during my graduation. All my mom has ever wanted is to see me walk up on stage for graduation. She literally started crying today because now it’ll be tainted by me having to crutch up, wobbling, trying to balance while I shake the principals hand. I’ve missed concerts, I haven’t been able to hang out with friends. I’m in pain and most of all? I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted by being slowed down, on missing things for my own safety. I can’t even shower normally, I have to sit in a chair half out the shower and scrub with washcloths. 
And the person who caused this doesn’t even care. I got an apology in the form of selfishness, everything based around them. They can walk. They can go to prom and to concerts. They drive still. Me? A car sort of came close to hitting us today, only barely. Normally I’d just be like “oh damn,” but I had a full on panic attack and gave a small scream. Nothing is the same, and they aren’t apologetic at all. I don’t want them to grovel or something weird. But I wish they’d care. I wish they’d actually apologized, and offered to come hang out and watch movies with me, keep me company. But everything became about them.
At least they aren’t in my life anymore, considering I’m clearly not important to them.

@tsumoomoo liked for a starter!

“Mikan… you shouldn’t belittle yourself to make everyone like you.”

“There’s always going to be someone that doesn’t like you, it’s like a fourth law of thermodynamics: nobody can be liked by everybody else. You just need to find some friends who like you for who you are.”

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

I’m sorry for not being active

I’ve been dealing with art block and legit two days ago I sprained my foot

I’m forcing myself to walk now bc

I hate crutches

I’ll try my best to catch up with asks as soon as I can

I just need rest

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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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.  

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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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)

The Flirt

For the Anon who requested reassurance imagines! :) Enjoy!

One day Harry had strolled into the park cutting through to the studio because he was really late. His buttons weren’t buttoned (and today it was actually necessary that Harry didn’t look like he was ready to breastfeed). It was a big meeting. New album cover and work to discuss and all that jazz.

But his alarm hadn’t gone off and he was in a rush out the door as he finished buttoning his buttons. But his boots were unstrapped. And he tripped. Thankfully, a girl who was running around the park broke his fall. Unfortunately he sprained her ankle.

“Oh, God, kitten, I’m so sorry,” he said. Your face paled as your ankle started to swell. You felt sick. You were going to throw up in front of Harry Styles. “Shit,” he hissed. He scooped you up and you could barely breathe you were in so much pain. He carried you back toward his apartment and set you in the passenger seat of his car. His car had been making a funny noise and someone was going to take  look at it today–hence why he was rushing to the tube.

But emergencies happen.

“I’m Harry,” he said on the ride to the emergency room. You grunted out your name. You let a few tears leak out and you felt terrible. But Harry felt worse. “I know who you are,” you smirked softly through your pain. Harry snickered.

He insisted that he take care of you for a while. It wasn’t a bad sprain. Just crutches for a week or two. But you hated crutches, but Harry already felt guilty so you weren’t going to tell him you hated them.

You figured he knew because he wouldn’t let you walk to the car or walk to your apartment from the car. He carried you up the stairs. “You could have taken the elevator,” you told him. “Plus I’m heavy.”

He physically winced with his whole body. “You’re not heavy,” he shook his head and that was the end of the discussion, he left no room to argue.

Harry came over every day and made sure you had a good day and made sure that you had everything you needed. He’d bring you coffee and the newspaper and he’d do chores for you. And if he was being honest, he was happy he hurt your ankle, it was a good excuse for him to come see you. Because that first day, he thought you were really pretty. You were running in long running pants that hugged your bum perfectly, a hot pink t-shirt and a hot pink sweatband around your head. He adored you. You were adorable. And now, the next day when you crutched to the door you were beautiful. You were even more beautiful when you were in regular clothes and your hair was perfectly so in long waves. He stammered when he spoke. It was the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to you.

“How do you feel?” He asked setting your coffee and a bouquet of flowers on the table. “Am I making you miss work or anything?”

“I’m good…and no, I’m a social worker at the high school, they’re on break right now,” you smiled and watched him move around your flat. “You don’t have to do this,” you told him.

“I know, but I want to, I do feel awful I hurt you,” he said softly. You smiled softly and blushed.

“You didn’t mean to…I don’t think,” you joked. He chuckled.

“No, I didn’t, I would never intentionally hurt you,” he said softly and stared into your eyes for a long moment. Your heart fluttered and you shyly looked at him. He smiled sweetly, one little dimple cratering his cheek as he smirked at you. You had to say, Harry Styles spraining your ankle was the best thing that ever happened to you.


After a couple months and a fully healed ankle, you were a bit worried that Harry was just…with you out of pity. Yes, you adored him and he was wonderful…but…he was Harry goddamn Styles. You knew picking girls sounded very, very archaic, but he is beautiful and he could pick whichever girl he so wanted. You were worried he picked you just because he sprained your ankle.

He held your hand as you both walked to the studio. You were carrying a basket of muffins for the boys to enjoy. “Niall’s going to love you,” Harry whispered.

You blushed. “Thanks,” you said shyly. You were nervous. One, you were meeting One Direction, and that was terrifying in of itself. Two, you had no idea if they would like you. Three, you didn’t even know if Harry liked you…

“Kitten, your hand is sweating like crazy, why are you so nervous?” He asked. “It’s hard to not like someone while they’re eating a muffin,” he reminded you.

You smiled softly as he repeated what you said earlier. You were nervous. You baked when you were nervous. And apparently Harry and the rest of the band would benefit from your nervous baking because you were almost always nervous. “Why are you baking?” He asked.

“I’m nervous and they’ll have a tough time hating me when they’re busy eating the most delicious muffins they have ever tasted,” you nodded knowingly. He laughed.

“You’re awfully confident about these muffins,” he said taking one that was still warm off the cooling rack. You waited as he bit into the top and he moaned and nodded. “As you should be, kitten. These are amazing,” he said knowingly.

“Harry said you brought muffins,” Niall said opening the studio door for you.

“He’s been waiting like a puppy for you to arrive home,” Zayn told you.

“Lovely to meet you, kitten,” Niall said pecking your cheek and taking the muffins from you. You blushed and Niall smiled softly at you. “Thanks for the muffins,” he said kindly. “We’ve only heard good things about you,” he said softly and bit into a muffin. “Ugh, you’re perfect, Harry, keep her,” he ordered.

Louis rolled his eyes at Niall and smiled. “Nice to meet you, love,” he told you kindly. “And thank you for feeding Niall, he was getting grouchy,” he winked.

You smiled. “Love, nice to meet you, you make Harry smile all day long with your cute little text messages and pictures of kittens and babies,” Liam smiled and pecked your cheek before he stole a muffin. “Great muffins,” Liam added and Zayn smiled at you.

“Nice to meet you darling, Harry offer her a chair, would you?” He asked. “Break her ankle and then make her stand, honestly,” he rolled his eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes back at Zayn and pulled a chair out for you. “Make yourself at home, I have to sing,” he kissed your cheek and headed into the sound booth.

“So, details, love,” Louis said knowingly. “Is Harry a good kisser? Because he says you enjoy it, but we think he just likes to make himself feel better,” he said knowingly.

“Yeah,” Niall said. “All he does is talk about how nice your lips feel,” he said. You smiled. “Must be all the sugar from these muffins,” he smirked. You watched Harry record a moment. He looked so at ease…perfect…lovely. Harry.

“You okay, kitten?” Zayn asked softly.

You bit your lip. “Just…nervous,” you said quietly.

“Of us?” Liam wondered.

“Babe, why would you be nervous about us?” Louis asked.

You looked over at Harry and he winked at you as he was getting lectured about his part. You smiled back and then looked down at the table. “Yeah, uh…” you swallowed thickly. “I just…I don’t know if Harry…I think he feels guilty that he sprained my ankle…I don’t…wanna be a burden,” you said softly. “And I feel like I am…I don’t know if I…” you shook your head. “I’m not good enough for him,” you said softly.

The four all exchanged a glance. “Harry…” Louis started and shook his head. “Love, I wish you could hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around,” he reached across the table to you and squeezed your hand.

“Or how he looks when he thinks about you,” Zayn continued. “Darling, you’re the light of his life,” he said knowingly. “His eyes get all bright and he just gets so happy,” he continued with a bright smile.

You smiled shyly. “Yeah…but…”

“Kitten,” Niall said around the third muffin he’d taken. “He really likes you, and he’d be so upset if he knew you felt so insecure about him,” he said with a frown.


“Stop babe,” Liam smiled at you with a shy shake of his head. “He might have felt really guilty on the ride to the hospital or something, but now…” he shook his head. “He loves you…er…um…he really cares about you,” Liam blushed nervously and your cheeks heated up. You’d only been together three months…did Harry already love you? “So don’t worry, okay?” He said.

“Without trying to scare you,” Niall said gently. “He talks about marrying you…he’s never talked about marrying a girl before,” he mumbled around another muffin. You stomach flipped. Oh wow…to marry Harry Styles. You were internally swooning.

Harry came out from the sound booth. “Jesus, Niall, she can bake more,” he rolled his eyes as he kissed the top of your head as he grabbed a muffin.

“Don’t make her do stuff,” Louis scolded playfully as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, crap, you’re right,” Harry said tilting your head back to look at him. You smiled up at him. He looked so happy and cute. “You don’t have to bake more, you’re perfect just as you are,” he smiled.

Your heart fluttered. “Thanks…you sounded lovely,” you told him.

“You couldn’t hear me,” he snickered and gazed at you with this look that made your heart melt. You smiled kindly. He definitely seemed to like you.

“I don’t need to hear you to know you sounded great,” you said softly.

The boys all  pretended to gag. “That’s disgusting, you’re lucky Harry likes that mushy crap,” Zayn said knowingly. Harry winked at you and kissed your nose.

“They’re just joking,” he said and pressed his lips lightly over yours. “They’re actually thrilled I make you happy,” he said knowingly.


“Yeah, they say I get all weird when I think about you and it makes me distracted,” he shrugged. “I don’t know what they’re talking about, I’ve only sang your name in recording like ten times,” he grinned.

You giggled. Maybe the boys were right…Plus, you figured Harry being indebted to you for spraining your ankle until your souls ceased to exist would sound quite lovely in wedding vows.

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…

Well-deserved peace


It had been exactly a week since Dingo’s last NetSavior mission, and the boy had been released from the hospital the day before, after he’d promised to change his bandage twice a day and to use the pair of crutches he’d been given. Tomahawkman personally made sure that these rules were followed by a very unwilling Dingo, who wasn’t even cheered up by the prospect of their little trip.

The moment he’d been released, Dingo had messaged Pen and Enzan, and agreed to meet up with them at IPC the following morning. From there, they’d be able to get the Copyroids that had been specially prepared for their use. 

As usual, Dingo was late, both because he’d woken up after his alarm, and because his pace was considerably slowed down by his condition. “I really, really hate crutches …” He whined, and took a break to stare at his palms. The skin was raw and his fingers felt numb, but he had no other choice - his leg was still too painful to support his weight.

“Hang in there, Dingo ! IPC’s just ahead !” Tomahawkman cheerfully encouraged his operator. He’d made a point to stay motivated, too eager at the prospect of their trip to let his spirits be dampened by Dingo’s complaints.

I don’t know if I’m allowed to throwback if my blog isn’t a month old yet, but whatever. Throwback to my good friend vulvaaa. She showed me that no matter how much you try to help people, tumblr will tear you to shit for it.

 She also gave me the first hint of how quick tumblr is to call you a victim hater. 

vulvaaa was the harbringer of my very first anon hate.

 She shall be a legacy of how not to deal with advice that you don’t need.

And, finally, she showed me that people are quick to lie about it to make you seem like the devil incarnate. 

What’s the moral of this story? Tumblr is a hostile, hostile place, where people who feel bad about things become the people who try to make you feel bad about things. Where people don’t know the concept of ‘consequence’ and ‘repercussions’. 


You open your veins i open my hate. you say it’s to dull the pain, the excuses all sound the same. your drug induced reactions, they pushed me away. and now you’re forced to live life in decay. 
Man of substance. fear to become him. losing one’s brain. going insane. 
Man of substance. hate to become him. life of no use. full of abuse. 
i hate the crutch i see. that’s not the life i want to lead. 
Man of substance. fear to become him. losing one’s brain. going insane. 
Man of substance. hate to become him. life of no use. full of abuse. 
Lost, out of hope, straight edge to help me cope.

anonymous asked:

Imagine that Natasha broke her leg because of a mission, and is just really grumpy because she hates using crutches and makes all the Avengers do things for her.

“hey clint?” natasha calls from where she’s lounging on the couch. “can you please come get a book for me? it’s on the top shelf, and i -”

clint pops into the living room, leaning casually against the door frame. “yeah,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “which one?”

she points. “that big red one with the gold lettering.”

it’s high enough up that clint has to stand on a chair, so he drags one over and pulls down the book for her.

something about her self-satisfied little smirk tips him off. “you just asked me to do that so you could look at my ass, didn’t you?” he accuses her playfully.

“oh damn, you caught me,” she says, completely unruffled.

“you’re not subtle at all, romanoff,” he tells her on his way back to the kitchen, glad she can’t see his smile. not that she’ll be fooled, anyways.

“i hate to see you leave, barton,” she shouts at his retreating backside. “but i love to watch you go!”