wanna see my mask


he just wanted to see genji’s smile

Mysterious Injury

Summary: ok so like in october-ish i hit my foot really hard on my table leg (the story is below in the writing so i mean, make fun of me if u wanna) and i mean, just basically you fuck your foot up and shawn is a worried boyfriend. also i had no idea what to title this so i mean

You sat on the floor of your dining room, in pain. “What did you do?” Your older brother asked, hearing your cursing from his room.

“I don’t know, honestly.” You stood up, and leaned on the table when you realized you couldn’t really put weight on your right foot. “Fuck, that really hurts.” You whimpered, and your brother came over to help you to the couch.

“It doesn’t look swollen or anything, maybe you just rest for a little?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Sounds like a solid plan.” You wiped away a stray tear and settled yourself on the couch, deciding to watch some Netflix.

About half an hour later, you moved your foot and cringed when you felt some pain. “Oh my God, Y/B/N, come here!” You called, and he walked into the room, stopping when he saw your foot.

“Holy shit!” He gawked at the swelling, and went to poke it. “Does it hurt?”

“If you touch my foot I will tell your girlfriend you still sleep with a stuffed dog.” You threatened, looking at him.

Your brother paused, looking at you carefully, examining you. “It really hurts, doesn’t it?” He asked.

“No, pfft,” You stood up and went to walk away, but stopped when you realized you couldn’t walk. “Um,” you turned and looked at him, “I can’t walk.” You confided to him, and your brother helped you back to the couch.

“Maybe stay here for the night, or something. Mom can probably find a wrap or something for you. Do you want more ice?” He asked, slipping into his overprotective brother mode.

The following day, your foot wasn’t nearly as swollen, but it still hurt a lot to walk on. You found out that if you walked on your toes, it didn’t hurt as much. You sent your boss a text, saying you couldn’t work and attaching a photo of your swollen and now bruised foot. Then, you texted your boyfriend saying you couldn’t really go out. You almost immediately got a call from Shawn. “Hello?”

“What do you mean you can’t go out? What happened?” He asked, not bothering to greet you.

You chuckled, looking at the purple and blue splotches on your foot. “So, um, funny story!” You started. “Yesterday after class I took a nap, and um, I assume I hit my foot on the table leg, and-”

“Wait, what do you mean you assume?” Shawn asked, interrupting you.

“You see, I don’t really remember what happened. All I really remember is pain. Maybe I blacked out from pain or something. I don’t know. But last night I couldn’t walk and today it still really hurts and I called off of work.” You explained. “You can come over if you wanna, see my foot or yourself.” You joked.

Shawn said he’d be over shortly and hung up, and you managed to get into the kitchen and get yourself some coffee. You hopped onto the counter and waited for Shawn to arrive, partly because you wanted to scare him, partly because you wanted to cry from the pain.

When the door opened and you heard Shawn’s voice asking where you were, you didn’t say anything. He walked into the kitchen and smiled when he saw you, and you frowned. “I wanted to scare you.” You mumbled, shoulders dropping. “You wanna see my foot? It looks pretty gnarly.” You masked the pain you were feeling with goofiness as Shawn walked over.

“Sur- oh my God, baby, does- does this hurt?” He asked, looking up at you. “What happened?”

You shrugged, feeling your eyes begin to water. “I’m stuck,” You whispered, lip quivering. Shawn helped you back onto the couch and you two cuddled for a little, him letting you get out your tears and complain about how you liked to be independent.

When you had no more tears to get out, you looked up at your boyfriend. “Sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry, love.” Shawn smlied, kissing your forehead. “Now, your mom said your foot wasn’t broken? But it looks pretty bad.” He looked at the bruise and you saw his law tighten. “Um, have you gone to the doctor’s?” He asked.

“No, I don’t really want to, though.” You confessed.

Shawn sighed, and looked at you. “If your foot is still like this on Thursday, I’m taking you to the doctor’s.” He said, and you nodded, agreeing.

Wednesday Shawn took you out for lunch, saying you two haven’t gone out in a while. You sat on your floor doing your makeup when Shawn texted you, telling you he was in your driveway. You capped your lipstick, and stood up. You found out that if you wore boots, you could walk with little to no limp, something you realized you had because of your injury.

Opening the door to Shawn’s Jeep, you smiled at him. “Hi,”

“You’re walking pretty good, baby.” Shawn smlied, backing out of the driveway.

You nodded. “If I wear boots it’s easier to walk, but I still can’t walk too fast.” You said, looking at the dash in front of you.

At the restaurant, Shawn helped you out of the car and you two walked into the restaurant and waited to be seated. “So you don’t really know what happened to your foot?” He asked.

“Nope, and now the bruise is like, over my entire foot. But I can move my foot and it doesn’t hurt nearly as much, I think I just messed up the muscles.” You shrugged, opening your menu.

Shawn shook his head, smiling. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked the rhetorical question, and looked down at his menu.

a/n: but for real my foot was messed up for the longest time. like if i wore my converse you could see the bruising peeking out of the top of my sock and shoe. and it still doens’t feel right but it’s too late to do anything now

anonymous asked:

1,30,36,53 :-))

1. selfie (Please don’t unfollow me) Also look through my selfie tag on my blog if u wanna see my true form :p

hot face mask

30. Fave Tv would be Heroes, Parks and Rec, B99, Black Mirror etc

36. Oooh 3 dreams- Becoming a nurse, getting another cat, moving into a different dimension.

53. My best friends, butter chicken, movies, being able to imagine a different world, good stories.