x ray film


 "When I was a kid, I went to the zoo with my dad. It was just outside where we lived and, uh… It’s really small, one of those zoos where they keep the animals locked up in these… these tiny, little cages, these tiny, little, like, concrete boxes with tires in them or something. I was really excited about going. I really wanted to see something outside my town. I wanted to be… I wanted to be so close to something so wild and…It just wasn’t okay. I didn’t I didn't like it. And my dad kept trying to fucking tell me that it was okay, that… that this lion could never go back home because… because he wouldn't be able to survive in the wild, having been locked up for so long.” “Okay, you are trying to tell me that the zoo people they’re not guilty, they have no choice.” “No, I thought they had a choice, they had the choice. They should have given it to him. They should have let the lion choose.

Honestly who wants to be in film? I’m seeking queer, short, tall, transgender, and beautifully diverse actors who understand Poly Styrene and like art films. If this interests and applies to you, great, contact me! I want to create art films with positive representations of people who I think are lovely. 

Not the End of the World - Jackson Whittemore Imagine

Requested by @hannahriley12 : Can I have a Jackson imagine where reader and him are dating and he gets badly injured in a lacrosse game and reader comforts him about not being able to play for awhile, thanks😊

Word Count: 814

Warnings: None, other than a few curse words.

Author’s Note: It’s a little short, but it’s cute. So I hope that makes up for it.

[My Teen Wolf Masterlist]

Jackson lay back on the hospital bed, his left arm was stiff and pressed against his stomach as his free hand was locked with Y/N’s. With his eyes closed, he silently prayed the doctor wouldn’t come in with bad news. Y/N’s eyes scanned every inch of Jackson’s worried face. Hard lines formed on his forehead as his eyebrows furrowed together. The bottom of his long eyelashes touched the top of his high cheekbones, and his lips were pressed together. Her free hand was massaging his hair, enjoying his soft hair between her fingers. Although he was upset, possibly even furious, she couldn’t help but love how adorable he looked.

“Alright,” Melissa walked in with a few x-ray films. Jackson winced and hissed as he quickly sat up. He placed his hand on his other arm and to his chest. Y/N stood next to Jackson and placed her hand on his knee, squeezing it a little to reassure him everything would be okay.

“It’s not good,” Melissa placed the x-ray films up and flipped the x-ray machine light switch on. She pointed at the bone that had been snapped in two. “You broke your arm. We’re going to have to put a cast on and you’ll be out for about 3 months.”

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anonymous asked:

i do stupid shit and you’re my doctor au - Ziam again please :P

Thank you for the prompt, I am truly sorry it has taken me so long to write it, but I hope it’s worth the wait.

I’ve combined your prompt with this post which was sent to me by @dangerouslycalmandcollected, hope you both enjoy the outcome.

This ended up being 5K+, so if you are having problems with the “Read More,” it is also posted at AO3.


Liam sat in the A&E, holding his arm against his chest and trying not to cry in front of his mate. Louis was still laughing at him for falling off the ladder. “It’s your fault,” he snapped. “If you hadn’t dragged me to that damn theatre to help you, I wouldn’t be here right now with a shattered arm!”

The curtain was pushed to the side then, Liam’s jaw dropping when the most beautiful person he’d ever seen walked in holding an x-ray film. “It’s not shattered,” he said, sliding the film onto the light box on the wall. “In fact, it’s not even broken.”

“And who are you?” Louis asked.

“Sorry, I’m Dr. Zayn Malik, one of the residents here.” He held a hand out to Louis. “Since you aren’t the one sitting on the bed, I’m assuming you are not Mr. Payne.”

Liam waved the hand of the arm that wasn’t currently throbbing. “That would be me. Liam Payne.”

“Can you verify your date of birth, please?” Dr. Malik asked, looking down at the chart.

“August 29, 1993,” Liam said, smiling when the doctor looked up at him, his eyes widening for a second.

“Right. Well, where do you think you fall on this pain scale?” he asked, showing Liam a picture of faces that went from green and smiling to red and crying.

“About orangey-frowny?” Liam answered.

Dr. Malik closed his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath and chuckling. “Orangey-frowny is which number?”

Liam’s face flushed as he took in the numbers above and below the drawings. “Seventy-nine.”

Dr. Malik’s brows furrowed. “Would you say you’re more a yellow-orange or a red-orange?” He reached for the IV pole that held the machine they used to take vitals. He pulled out a thermometer and ran it across Liam’s forehead. “Normal.”

“He’s not usually this clueless,” Louis said, looking worried.

Liam frowned. “I don’t know what colour it hurts! It just hurts!” he whined, feeling ridiculous.

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