waiting room reading


The Weasley Twins teaching you how to play Quidditch for the first time

So You’re Dating an X-Phile

10 Surefire Ways to Win Their Heart

  1. Call them. When they say hello, respond with “Mulder, it’s me.”
  2. If they get a minor scrape: cradle their head, play with their hair and tell them you are a medical doctor. 
  3. If something curious occurs, declare it “must be an x-file.”
  4. Tell them they’re your one in seven billion.
  5. Take them out to lunch, order iced tea and wink.
  6. When asked if you are done with something, say “if I quit now, they win.”
  7. Take them to the batting cages and teach them how to swing. Bonus if you call yourself Fox Mantle and say the bat is a “nice piece of ash.”
  8. Tell them they’re the only one you trust.
  9. Dance to Cher’s cover of Walking in Memphis.
  10. When they tell you they don’t want that darkness in their home, and they will say this at some point, tell them, “I think the darkness finds you and me. But let it try.” Then kiss. Their heart is yours.
Who is Nynaeve al’Meara?

You go to a doctor for an injury. Your doctor is a very angry woman. Looks entirely too young to have been to med school and wears a braid every single day. She sees your injury and demands to know how it happened. You tell her, and she tells you every single thing you did wrong and every way you could have prevented it. She is visibly very pissed off at you, but she doesn’t curse at all. In fact, you even say a minor curse word, she’ll order you to never say it again. And you won’t.

She fixes you right there, and the whole time she just looks like she is about to explode in frustration. Not because she doesn’t know what to do. Oh, she knows exactly what to do. She’s just so pissed off at you for getting injured in the first place. In no time, you’re fixed and she is no less angry at you. She gives you everything you need to mend and you’re prescription just reads “Stop being an idiot”

That’s Nynaeve al’Meara

Naughty Naughty

Title: Naughty Naughty

Paring: Jared or Jensen, pick your man to embarrass

Word Count: 581

Warning: talk to sexting, boners, and nudity with some humor of course

Credit: A very funny conversation with @mysteriouslyme81 for the inspirtation

(Y/C/L/Nà Your Choice’s Last Name, Y/C/F/Nà You Choice’s First Name)

A/N: Enjoy! Read the other parts of the Awkward Boner Trifecta here: xxx

“Hi there” Jared and Jensen said in unison, turning their attention to the young fan at the microphone.

“Hi! Um, what’s the naughtiest thing you ever sent your wives?” Both boys started shaking their heads laughing

“We can’t answer that! Are you trying to get Jensen and I killed?!” Jared looked over to Jensen as he joined in.

“Yeah, we’re aren’t geniuses by any means but we are smart enough to not answer that.”

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scrawls-of-daisy-arkanian  asked:

Currently sitting in a waiting room reading through your beautiful blog, and noticed that you study foreign languages. How would you say that influence your work? Are there any words of note that english doesn't express well?

Hi, thank you so much for your compliment!

Well, since I’m Italian, the fact that I’m studying foreign languages brought me here in the first place, because I wouldn’t be able to write in English if I didn’t study it. And you know, it’s interesting, because sometimes I feel like some emotions can be better expressed in English than in my native language. I also feel like studying languages open your mind and it’s a valuable characteristic for a writer. In sum, being a writer and a language lover are part of the same set, I couldn’t tear them apart and one contributed to the development of the other. 

Sorry if I got so wordy and carried away but thanks for the question! 

anonymous asked:

OKOK FIRST OF ALL I LOVE YOUR ACC AND WRITING (marry me youre my god) (jk i swear im not creepy) okay so could you do a hc of RFA + V & Saeran reacting to/dealing with MC having reaaally bad OCD like she just starts crying if she steps on cracks, and just needs to do certain things or els she'll get really upset etc c: (if it isnt too triggering ofcourse im so sorry if it is)

My heart is open to all, meet me at the space station for a wedding ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡



  • Literally so caring!!!!!!
  • If you cry he kisses your cheeks and eyes while cradling your face in his hands
  • Does his best to keep you from getting triggered and if you do he will try and talk to you in a super calming manner and bring your anxiety down
  • His voice is so sweet and reassuring that it usually works
  • Always reminds you to breathe
  • Always conscious of what pushes you over the edge and makes sure he controls situations the best he can to protect you
    • “MC, I don’t want to push you…but I found a few people who are professionals. It might be nice to talk to someone? If you decide to…I’ll be right along side you every step of the way!”


  • He doesn’t understand it, but he doesn’t try to either
  • He just needs to know what he can change (as far as your surroundings go) in order to alleviate your stress
  • If it means he has to change the whole penthouse to make you happy, he doesn’t care
  • He understands that he can only do so much, so he hires the best mental health professionals to meet with you on a weekly basis
  • Because of this help, you have seen slow improvements!


  • The guy that’s constantly asking if you’re okay or if something is bugging you
  • If you have a checking OCD he tells his directors that he needs frequent breaks to call you and tell you he’s okay
  • He doesn’t care what he’s doing he will drop everything to be with you if you’re struggling
  • Mentions going to see a professional for help, but tells you that he will only take you if you’re ready
  • He hates reading so much but one day you came home and he cleaned out the library of OCD books just because he wanted to better understand you and how he could help


  • Seriously so protective of you
  • If anyone does something to trigger you she’s like immediately going into momma Jaehee mode
  • Keeps a list of the things you do to reduce the anxiety and things that increase your anxiety and makes sure that your days are the least-stress inducing as possible
  • Like Yoosung she has a super calming way about her, and if you’ve spent 3 hours washing your hands she can usually step in and pat your back or speak to you softly and bring you back down to a safe level


  • He’s read up a lot on the subject because he’s a weirdo genius so you didn’t need to explain it to him much
  • If you start crying from the distress he will scoop you up and just hold you close, letting you cry it out while he runs his fingers through your hair and makes a “shhh” soft sound, until you’re calm again
  • Really doesn’t give you a choice as far as seeing someone weekly to help tbh
  • You’re the most important person in the world to him and if there’s something that can make you feel better, well he doesn’t leave it as an option
  • If you’re out in public and start to do your checking or whatever he will seriously do it right along with you to make you not feel so alone, and sticks his tongue out if people stare


  • Like Jumin, he hires the best people money can buy for you
  • Makes you unload your day on him at the end of the night
  • Like, makes you tell him everything because he thinks talking to someone else and venting helps tremendously
  • If it’s been super stressful he will give you a full body massage
  • Just super supportive of you and if you’re crying he wipes your tears and tells you how much he loves you
  • That everything is going to be okay, just breathe


  • If you don’t like stepping on cracks well guess what this guy is giving you a piggy back ride everywhere
  • If you don’t like germs then he will wear gloves while you’re out and open doors for you with a freaking napkin so you don’t have to touch it
  • If you’re getting up in the middle of the night to check the doors and windows and locks he is right by your side
  • You’re all this salty tomato boy has and he is seriously ready to fight the world for you
  • Drags you to your psych appointments no matter what, and sits in the waiting room reading the old magazines until you’re done
missraven-c replied to your post: probably dropped babby parasite yoriko in the…

Kira just drops her in a vent or something like “Okay have fun or whatever and try not to blow my identity or die” and than just sits in the waiting room reading the newspaper till she’s done

some nurse walks by like “oh, sir, were you here to see your child?, here, come inside, which one’s yours?”

and he just scans over ‘em before he sees the tell-tale wriggling of something burrowing under the skin and nods towards the baby

“that one”

and once the nurse leaves him some Alone Time to bond with baby, he fucking books it out of there with kiddo in hand

Blood and Dirt shouldn’t be that hot

Based on this prompt I found: “What does your character do to pass time in waiting rooms? and initially read as “Who does your character do to pass time in waiting rooms?

What can I say, I have a dirty mind. Anyway. Here you go.

Frank is bored out of his mind. He hates nightshifts, hates them, hates them, hates them. The hospital is practically deserted at night.

Yeah, people think it’s so great that he works in a hospital, helping the sick and the elderly. And yeah, it’s worth it at the end of the day, but at the end of the night? No, definitely not.

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anonymous asked:

Because Therese's pregnancy was difficult so is the birth with Carol demanding to be in the room because she's all Therese has. Holding her hand the entire time and holding the baby after she's been cleaned off to hand back to Therese after she's kissed the baby's head and already fallen in love with her. Talking her through nursing for the first time.

Got another message wanting a snapshot of the birth, so I’m answering both here :)

Therese, so sure that they’d be separated at the hospital, quietly panicking. Carol driving one-handed, letting Therese squeeze the other, telling her not to worry about that, just relax, slow breaths. She worries. She shouldn’t have. Of course Carol tears apart the strictest hospital policy with a few well-placed words, a look. 

“I’m never leaving you again, least of all now,” is all she says about it.

Therese tries, really tries, to be strong about the whole thing, but it goes on so long, and it really, really hurts, but she tries to be strong about it. Millions of other women have done it. More importantly, Carol has done it, so Therese tells herself she’ll be fine. 

“Always late, keeping me waiting, just like you,” she jokes, trying to distract herself.

Carol chuckles, rests a cool cloth on her forehead, kisses her hair. “First labors tend to be longer.”

Therese gives Carol a look for that. The implication that she would at some point be doing this a second time. 

Carol stays with her every moment, watching her. At one point Therese tries to turn her head away. She’s sweating, wearing that ridiculous hospital gown, can’t imagine how she must look. Understands for the first time what Carol might feel when she takes a picture unexpectedly, when Carol protests that she doesn’t look nearly good enough to be captured on camera. 

Carol touches her face now, the cool of her fingers a relief against Therese’s flushed skin. Carol tells her she’s beautiful and amazing and perfect. She’s working so hard to give them a  child, and that’s the most perfect thing imaginable.

Carol can say things like this, about *their* child, because they’re left mostly alone. A doctor or a nurse will check in periodically, then disappear again. Therese can’t imagine how Carol did this alone, hurt like this alone, while Harge sat oblivious in the waiting room, probably smoking, reading a newspaper. Therese wishes she could go back in time, be there for her, support her. Be the person Carol’s being for her. 

Carol is impossibly kind. Carol holds her while she’s sick, won’t let her apologize. Carol distracts her, talks to her about nothing in particular. Carol helps her breathe and admonishes her gently when she tries to stay silent, stifle the cries of pain. 

“Let it out,” Carol says, over and over with more patience than Therese thought her capable of. “Better for both of you to let it out. And you don’t have to hide from me, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”

Therese stops talking, stops hearing Carol, at least fully. It’s gone on so long and she’s so tired and nothing about the pregnancy has gone right. She almost lost the baby not two months ago, and the memory of those pains is overlapping with what’s happening now, and Carol, the hospital staff when they bother to show, keep saying she’s doing well, this is all normal, but what if it’s not, how can they really know? And God, it just hurts so much,

“What are you thinking?” Carol asks between contractions, when they haven’t spoken in awhile. 

Therese doesn’t have the words, the energy to express it. Fortunately, Carol has asked a question she already seems to have the answer to.

She stands from the chair by the bed, leans down to kiss Therese’s cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. She hugs her, brings Therese’s head to her shoulder. It’s dangerous, even though the nurse made her rounds not too long ago, shouldn’t be back for at least an hour. Still dangerous, but Therese can’t bring herself to care as she clutches at Carol, sobs .

“You’ll be fine. Both of you. You think I’d stand for anything else? You’ve come so far, been so strong, darling, so, so strong. Nearly there, Therese, I promise. I promise, angel.”

She’s not wrong, thank God. There’s a bad moment when the pushing is about to start when a new nurse, just clocked in after shift change, tries to get Carol to leave, Therese is babbling like a child, tears in her eyes, begging Carol not to go, before she can even think of what’s left of her dignity. 

“Look at me. Not them, Therese, just me. I’m not leaving. That’s not going to happen.”

Carol waits for the brief lull between contractions before releasing Therese’s hand. She speaks to the staff again, too quiet for Therese to hear. The nurse goes pale, nods slowly. Carol comes back, kisses Therese’s hand when the others have turned away. 

“Nearly there, darling,” she repeats, too quiet to be overheard.

“You’re staying?” Therese has figured this out already, but needs to hear it. She feels weak and vulnerable in a way she’s not used to anymore, and it’s awful because she needs to be strong to finish this. 


The pushing is better, initially. At least it’s something to do, something proactive. But it’s exhausting and she’s already so tired , and it feels like she’s being torn apart. 

“I know,” Carol says with such raw empathy that even if Therese somehow didn’t know about Rindy, she’d know Carol meant it. “I know, I know.”

Carol promises again that it’ll be over soon, that she’s so close to finished, that she can do this. Therese doesn’t believe her, but doesn’t want to disappoint her either, so when Carol tells her to push again, she does. Every time, until something shifts and Therese collapses back, trembling, eyes shut. Another cool touch on her forehead, Carol whispering in her ear.

“Open your eyes, darling. Look what you’ve done. Look what you’ve made.”

She’s in love with the baby at once, which is more relief than the actual delivery, considering the circumstances of conception. Carol lets go of her hand for the first time in hours, only long enough to bring her their child. 

“She looks like you,” Carol pronounces. “Such a lucky, perfect girl.”

Once she’s not so blinded by tears, Therese does see the resemblance.

She’s nervous about feeding, but Carol helps her through it, the same way she’s helped with everything else, even when Therese couldn’t find the words or the will to ask. 

She’s exhausted, but doesn’t want to sleep. It drags her down though, not long after that first feeding. She wakes up sore, hurting, but when she turns her head Carol is in a chair by the window, holding their child, and the light is hitting them just so, and all Therese can think is that she needs her camera, not realizing that she’s spoken aloud until Carol looks up, smiles.

“You never stop, do you?” It’s not derogatory, anything but. “Rest, darling. There’ll be plenty more pictures to take. Thousands and thousands, I promise.”

Therese rests, and Carol is right

everlasting love // one shot

a/n: this turned into way more than I expected it to be, so I decided to post it separately from the requested ask. Enjoy!

It has been exactly five minutes, twenty seconds since Lauren Jauregui stepped into the hospital waiting room. It has been two minutes since Lauren felt she could breathe properly, and two minutes since the most beautiful girl she has ever seen walked through the door.

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