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aewrie · 8 months

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'once a week or more' well rip

my default state of being when i'm not having a bad day is a little tired & nursing a budding headache. i have a headache right now that i'm ignoring

is this going to be another of those 'there is no such thing as a 'mild' concussion, if you hit your head bad enough to black out it is a concussion' lmao???

i get headaches from fucking everything. weather/air pressure (low and high). low/high blood sugar or too rapid changes there. too bright/dim light (at home i am specific about my lights/curtains at different points of the day/depending on how bright it's outside to avoid these). rapid repetitive/jarring physical motions (just jumping a little can be enough/make it worse). muscle tension. doing stretching/exercise that gets blood really flowing. lack of and/or bad sleep, or too much sleep. getting (strongly) emotional. caffeine (a new exiting one! only started regularly drinking coffee fairly recently. how much caffeine is too much is a fucking mystery though). i should wear glasses (myopia, not too severe) but i avoid it unless i need to see that far that well in part bc the glasses pressing on my temples give me headaches more easily than my eyes being slightly tired does.

i'm probably forgetting a bunch more

but every time i've seen people describe migraines i've thought well mine aren't anywhere near that severe/those specific kinds of headaches so No Way it's that

but. i do have other symptoms on that list? i just never thought it might be related to my headaches bc i'd not seen those mentioned, at least not in a way that i could identify as something i should consider in connection to this, and there's always the huge stress that migraines are always extra super bad to the point that a Real migraine completely disables you for a while. while to me it's. it's annoying, it hurts, if it's particularly bad it can make things more difficult but not impossible/near impossible; just, a general It's Not That Bad, therefore normal and i should just deal with it

#i should probably try to keep a diary of this crap for a while #i am looking at additional symptom lists from should-be-reliable sources and it's not looking great #yourebablingjulle #best part is i actually mentioned this offhand to a doctor once a few years back while discussing other stuff and he basically went #yeah it's normal some people just get headaches more easily #not sure how i phrased it or if he understood how frequent my headaches are #work stress definitely contributes so it's gotten worse since that time period tho #i often avoid painkillers or strategically schedule taking them bc otherwise i'm having them near constantly #most notably i might bear through a few hours of a semi-bad one if i know i need it later to be able to sleep ok #(not too common but it happens)#bc at their worst they do fuck with my already sketchy ability to sleep #melatonin thankfully works for me and it is a lifesaver #one other thing i know works is acupuncture but one session costs almost as much as a year's supply of melatonin and that Not affordable #(i had ~a year while recovering from depression/burnout where i could have ear acupuncture done weekly without having to pay for it #figured that if nothing else i get to chill for a bit on a regular basis. scheduled no-stress time.#when the nurse was unavailable at times and couldn't do it i realized i slept noticeably better when i got my ears poked regularly)

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crossbackpoke-check · 1 year

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"This extra space next to me belongs to you. I know where I end now. I won't get lost." -- shoot me (metaphorically) and leave me for dead (metaphorically) why won't you. To make this about Dylan and maybe it's about Connor, maybe it's about Brinksy, maybe it's about any journeyman in the NHL. My brain screamed Chris Driedger and his memorable (to me) Players' Tribune article:

And how can you mention Dylan and Zach (Za-ach, the way Dylan says it) without me having a breakdown about them? You simply can't. And for the younger dudes, maybe it's a little Bords/Briss, not yet steady in The Show, a little bit of distance, a summer that tries to erase and make up all the memories they've made separately... and then a blurry insta story in Vegas. Just like old times but somewhere else. Maybe it's not the same bed, maybe it's not the same set of forks, but maybe it's the principle of the thing.

Anyway, goodbye. Sorry for this, your tag walls make me break out in imagined scenarios.

Much love. xxx

please never be sorry for sending me messages <3 i love reading them i love getting them i think they’re beautiful and i love them i’m!!!!! [🥹💕🦋🫧✨💘😭 <- the best approximation of what my heart is doing]

ok NOW i am taking this step by step because every narrative here kicked me straight in the knees (metaphorically) i am w e e p i n g (literally): i knew tangentially about chris driedger going to seattle but i had never read his players’ tribune love letter to seattle & all i can say is oh. oh. and with the part about trains delayed but still being right on time—

sometimes a dream is a truth your heart knows long before you do. the space that the city and the team made for him (“you’d be the only guy on the team”)🗣️🗣️🗣️ !!! but the way that chris talks about needing to put in the work & leo not letting him quit,,, that’s chris filling up the teakettle with twice as much water, crowding one side of the bed (falling asleep against a bus window dreaming), becoming unburdened by the idea of not being their guy, not having the fallback being their draft pick to content and settle himself with. that’s chris betting on a future. that’s the train coming down the tracks, right on time.

(i am feeling unhinged about it)

SECOND. i know i was the one that said zach and dylan to start so technically i brought this on myself but also i have been ktfo by the mere mention of the way that dylan says zach’s name different from everyone else, stealing an extra breath, stealing as much time as he can get with him, which reminded me of a poem i just read:

The Need Is So Great, Jim Moore

^^^dylan still in love with zach even as he’s leaving, can feel himself losing him, and taking every sliver of the love in his smile that he can get. even if he knows zach doesn’t still feel the same way he’s drawing out the long goodbye & saying i love you in a thousand ways without ever saying it out loud (“i have been asking for a time but in ways that have no words” because he doesn’t want to ask too much, to ask for love) in the hope that zach will say it back OKAY I’M LEAVING i can’t do this

that was a lie because THREE. “maybe it’s the principle of the thing” please insert the most ungodly screech how could you just (lovingly) come in straight with the steel chair and bean me upside the head with that l i n e i think this story has the potential for such tragedy in it but also the most tender domestic longing because bords & briss have known each other for a long time (i think) and guys do sometimes lose themselves when they first get to the nhl.

it’s a big scene, you’re with big name guys, you’re finally doing the thing you always dreamed about, you’re no longer necessarily the best because everyone’s the best, you’re not sure how you fit in, you can get lost in the glitz and the glamor of it but you can also literally get lost in it, the slog of the season and getting caught up and down between teams and leagues and endless airports and buses and travel and ice rinks, losing your phone (accidental) and having new people hound you for quotes and fame and connection so you lose your phone (on purpose) and i think where i’m trying to go is: this could play out as the tragedy of borde going to the california coastline and briss shipping off to the vegas strip and both of them getting a little lost.

maybe there’s someone else, maybe i am steadfastly not thinking about “a summer that tries to erase and make up all the memories they've made separately” as either a summer of them pretending things are ok after a year of barely speaking and now being completely different people they never were before OR a summer of them trying to pretend like they can forget about each other because maybe they didn’t think their relationship was the same thing, is all, when they were or weren’t together. maybe it’s nobody’s fault but for the fact that they were scared and tired and lonely trying to make it in the big times and didn’t know how to show it. and then borde shows up with takeout and plastic forks in vegas and it’s december and nothing like winter in ann arbor and still they fill up all the empty spaces in each other with the things they didn’t know they’d miss until they were gone and this is the real thing, not whatever they were trying too hard to be, to recreate their own nostalgia for the love in their memories. it’s the principle of the thing, is all, to always be true to the love they have right now & not what they think it should be.

sorry that i wrote you kind of an essay of an answer but i had so so so many thoughts because your ask was so lovely so thank you for sending it to me (you are always welcome to!! i love your imagined scenarios!!! cannot even explain how much!!!) & thank you for taking the time to read my walls of tags :))) <3

#liv in the replies #every time you send me a message i do the thing where i’ve got heart emojis for thumbs & cease any coherency #FIRSTLY chris driedger who i loved as seattle’s goalie without even knowing the story:#dreidger fourth layer of a dream is making me tear up AGAIN hours later as i try to write this the echl the coast easy come hard to leave &#when he talks about being somebody’s guy laying my head down in the bog & dragging my hands over my face chris who let you say that. who let #u break my HEART i truly don’t think i will ever recover from the inception reference bc that’s what they all talk abt u know? the nhl dream #the players’ tribune articles are often some of the most poetic & touching sports writing & every time i am reminded i lose my shit about it #SECONDLY:#the ever present spectre of dylan’s first boyfriend zach werenski #i have so so so many quotes? drafts? posts? about the thing with saying someone’s name to call them closer to you i say your name to speak #more of you into the world so i will possibly look for some of those to say what i mean but also: this poem was originally reminiscent of #willingly by tess gallagher which is my ajax jack / superbuddies poem & this specifically did go with the a drop of paint / the light has #fallen through you part of it but there’s a part of THIS poem which i did not include that talks about the late light / has already happened #will go on happening forever & that whole poem with this now to say i know it’s embarrassing i’m asking for it :: easy to write about light #like falling asleep on the couch & having to carry yourself up to bed is the dylan/zach heartbreak of this. waiting & waiting for the things #you used to do & the love you used to / were promised to have with the hope that if you keep the coffee ready he’ll come drink it & instead #you have too many cups of tea one yours & one cold then half-warmed over & too sweet for your tastes but you’ve learned to drink it anyway #okAY now third:#this w/the UMICH BOYS? N O I DIDN’T EVEN!!! NOT A THOUGHT IN MY BRAIN!!! & now i can’t stop thinking!!! & i had an entire PLAYLIST already #a ??? while ago before i even truly knew the umich boys Narratives™️ i heard maude latour’s song ‘one more weekend’ & went hahaha isn’t that #a great song for when you have that One Summer of college before everyone splits off into their own lives? isn’t that a fun little umich boy #going into the nhl narrative?? to which i said NO but then it spiraled into a playlist &now there is delightful heartbreak to go with vibes #umich scholars please feel free to correct me if i’m wrong on any points i can’t remember anything presently about anything #also the f a c t that that vegas picture is real and i know exactly what you’re talking about is making me %^•*]+£’ bc how!! is that real!!!#okay ALSO just throwing in brinksy like a casual AHAHA have brainworm for a year (my autocorrect tried to go bringst like angst which. lmao)#connor and dylan… all of my journeymen… we did not touch that because i WILL start yelling about sam gagner and marc staal and #the chrysalis and the caterpillar

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regisraven-a · 1 year

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every day i inch closer to handing my notice in and quitting this job

#like it's honestly the best possible role i could have in the best possible environment #like it's really hard to get a decent job in my field where you arent exploited in my city / country #but man i am Overworked #it doesnt really allow for a personal life like. working 48 hours a week #and having like. 12 days of annual leave ???#and it's a physically demanding job so by the end of the day im just fucking Knocked Out #i havent met my friends or gone on dates or done anything outside of work in a whole ass year lmao #working all week for sunday and then spending sunday rotting in bed recovering from the week's work like 🤡#theres lots to be grateful but also im just tired lmao #✧ ♕ 〘 ooc. ⤳ being perfectly fucking civil.#anyway rant over i need to do some more work (lol surprise surprise) and then shall try to unwind #having coffee at 7pm 🤠 not a bad idea at all #to be deleted /

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exopelagic · 6 months

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yeah I have more to say

#I think priest was right when he said I wanted a lot and it’s more than I can have bc I’ve taken more than I can handle #I’ve been trying to say yes to things which is all well and good but I’ve been out every night this week between hockey and friends #this week has lasted six months #and at the same time Tuesday was a few hours ago #and at all times there is so much I’m not doing.#as always it’s partially an issue of wasted time bc ive been getting up late and struggling to work in my room #but I also still haven’t recovered from the cold mentally or physically and it put me so behind #which was now two weeks ago god #somehow only two weeks #.but also two fucking weeks that’s so long #and I’m still trying to be gentle w myself but that doesn’t work but i also know I’m being too harsh on myself all the time #I don’t know what to do with any of this #I think temporarily I might stop Doing Things and just have time for me to get myself back together and slow down a bit bc it’s way too much #I think I’m just really horribly overwhelmed by everything and it’s built up to a breaking point #so this weekend I’m not gonna go out and see anyone I’m gonna stay in or go to the library and finish my work #have a goddamn cup of tea before I go to bed #I need to go to the shop and cook at some point but that can be basics for now because as much as I’d like to do the pie thing #maybe leave it until I’m more together so I’m not worried abt Extra things. I think temporary goal is to minimise the number of things #I really want to cry and just have it out but I’m teetering on the like. wanting to cry feeling instead of pushing over #this is a jump but I’m so tired of prioritising everyone else’s feelings #I realised tonight when I’m playing I’m always holding myself back a little to let other people do shit #and it’s not even like I’m holding back bc I’m good. I’m just letting other people do stuff bc I think they deserve it more #and when we had Shit happen I took on talking everyone down and making sure they were all okay #and then that whole weekend after I was completely fucked I couldn’t Do Anything #even with ms main character I’ve been stroking her ego do she doesn’t blow up completely and fuck stuff up for Everyone #maybe. just maybe my feelings are also important and I’m allowed to have shit not be my problem like everyone else #I think I’m going to bed it’s 2:40 #I’m gonna try prioritise myself just a little tiny bit more #luke.txt

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southislandwren · 2 years

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Every farmers market this past week and a half (so like 4 or something idk) we drink a ton of water and then I’m like oh just toss the empty bottles in my car so we don’t have to go find a trash can. And that works great until I have 11 FUCKING WATER BOTTLES in my backseat

#and there’s no trash service out here so the next time I get gas I have to do the walk of shame with my 11 BOTTLES to the trash can #markets exhaust me but they’re fun since I get to sell cheese and hang out with my boss #today her husband was there too and he wasn’t obnoxious or gross or anything. great work buddy #unfortunately I continue to fear that my boss secretly hates me now. I must try not to be cringe anymore #and I was doing really well at being normal until two fucking Thursdays ago #she said I love you and I haven’t recovered apparently #I don’t even know if she’s aware she said that she might’ve been too drunk at that point #idk. maybe tomorrow I’ll be like are you okay? you seem bummed out. and then that gives her an opening to be like #actually I fucking hate you/you crossed a boundary/I want you to go home and not come back ever/etc #but if I ask that what’ll most likely happen is she’ll be like oh im fine! just tired #and it’s like yeah I know youre tired but is there something I can do to help. like be less cringe and awful.#work post #she didn’t call me in until 4:45 today so I got to play arceus all day long #I’m a couple hours away from 100 hours of gameplay woohoo #I organized my boxes so I have all 200+ mons in numerical order #(just one of each so I put all the extras in color order)#and then I have my team separated out so I can grab them as needed #and then I went on my other profile and got some more plates. so now I need spiritomb’s plate and I can do the volo fight #I’m gonna be a wreck when I do the volo fight it’s such a heartbreaking plot twist #and I’m recording all the dialogue so I can make more progress on my fanfic #which I haven’t been working on since I 1) haven’t played arceus 2) haven’t been on my laptop that often 3) don’t get a ton of alone time #but when school starts and I throw myself back into my coping mechanisms I’ll make a lot of progress #okay I think that’s all for tonight. gotta go to bed now

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yzzart · 5 months

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between white sheets.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: a lazy morning with your boyfriend after a long night.

word count: 721!

notes: just a quick little thing, i thought of this scenario and here it is.

"Oh, i know you're awake…"

A typical and familiar British accent, with a deep and smug tone, vibrated against your bare neck; causing a kind of tickling and a wave of goosebumps in the region. — It was impossible not to squirm against the soft, fragrant sheets.

Even with your failed mission to pretend that you was still sleeping, your eyes remained closed but it was impossible to contain a warm and bright smile on your lips. — Your lips were traitors, you believed that. — And, in a matter of seconds and due to the lack of interaction, that smile turned into a loud and vibrant laugh.

Your neck received, once again, attention but now due to the small beard, not so annoying, that grew in the region of Tom's face; this time, an intense tickling sensation. — You tried to remove his face from between your neck with your hands but, unsurprisingly, you failed when he held both of you with just one hand.

Tom's laugh, which was muffled between your neck and pillow, joined against yours and echoed throughout the large and tidy room where you were staying. — Well, apart from just some of the clothes you guys had to wear to more TBOSAS opening night and accessories; the room was organizing. — And you swear, with the old, childish pinky promise, that you could listen to your laugh for hours.

Last night was so tiring, but so good; in fact, it was magnificent. — Once again meeting with the cast, giving interviews and taking countless photos with fans and in print; it was a special night.

Lifting his head and directing it towards the pillow, as it was in previous minutes, Tom finds himself observing the image before his eyes. — Your chest rose and fell gently, trying to recover and manage your breathing, your hair, with some stubborn and messy strands, spread across the pillow. — A radiant and fascinating scene for the eldest.

Not to mention, a sleepy smile on your lips. — If Tom had the opportunity and absolute power, he would stop time and stay like this with you forever.

"Good morning, my love." — His voice is hoarser than normal, and Tom wraps an arm around your covered waist, bringing your body even closer to his. — "How did you sleep, huh?" — He asks, giving small, loving kisses on your shoulder. — "The most beautiful woman in this world."

"Good…" — You replied, sleepy with red and embarrassed cheeks, and ran a hand through his hair; leaving a prolonged and attentive caress and then, moving your head, to leave a kiss on his forehead. — "What time is it?"

"I don't know…?" — Blyth raised his head and now you had the opportunity to admire his blue orbs so crystal clear, deep and enchanting; you found yourself falling even more in love with the boy every time his eyes met yours. — "Maybe it's eight, nine or even twelve hours?"

It was ironic to think that the clock was just a few steps away from the bed where you were and neither of you really cared. — Maybe it would be laziness, sleepiness or an excuse to spend more time together. — And the correct option was the third, no surprises.

Your eyes roamed between the dark locks and a few shy curls of Tom's hair, and all the comments about the idea of him actually opting to dye him blond — just like Coriolanus — played in your mind. — and every time they talked to you about this subject, you replied: "that wouldn't be a bad idea."

But, you always made it clear that you were the number one fan of his natural color. — And there were fans who agreed with you; you saw it on your social media and thought it was so funny and always showed it to Tom and the rest of the cast.

"What are our plans today?" — You whispered. — "… i'm seriously thinking about the idea of staying here all day." — In the middle of the sentence, you couldn't contain your laughter again; which this time was brief. — "Really." — Fatigue ran freely through your body and he wanted a long rest.

"Really?" — Blyth murmured, placing his face between your neck for the second time in a row that morning; you just nodded in confirmation, now felt prolonged kisses on your sensitive area. — "Then make your words mine."

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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ynscrazylife · 2 months

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i need to be excused (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)

summary: yknow that scene where hotch says “excuse me” and then faints? imagine that but his wife does it to him.

Having a profiler for a husband gets annoying with how observent he is. Unfortunately, you’re also a profiler, so it’d be hypocritical to complain.

Still, when Hotch notices the slightest thing wrong, he latches onto it. He’s had his eye on you ever since you took a hard hit from a fight in the field. You barely had time to recover before the team had to board the jet again to respond to some emergency Strauss needed them for.

Apparently, a man who claims to be linked to other murders and who was a former BAU agent had made a threat against Strauss’s family. Finally back at the BAU, the team’s stuck calling people, making arrangements, going through endless paperwork to try and get more information and figure out what was going on.

You’re not doing so hot. Still reeling from the pain, but also exhausted and definitely moody. Hotch keeps it professional since they’re at work, but is still watching out for you.

Hours later, after correctly identifying the man and making the arrest (which included lots of running around), the team again returns to their base. They’re going through everything and debriefing next steps, when you abruptly stand.

“I need to be excused for a moment,” you say, already sounding breathless, before promptly keeling over and collapsing onto the floor.

For a second, everyone freezes in shock. Hotch is the first to react. He all but screams your name, dropping to his knees and trying to assess what’s going on.

“Honey, honey? C’mon, wake up. What’s going on? Sweetheart, please,” Hotch says as he shakes you, moving you so that your head is in his lap.

Spencer kneels on your other side, gently taking your pulse and reporting that it’s stable. “Could be exhaustion, dehydration . . .” He trails off, listing all the reasons he can think of.

Hotch uses one hand to run his fingers through your hair and the other to cup your face, lightly tapping your cheek. After nearly a minute of the team standing around, wondering what to do, your eyes start to flutter open.

“Aaron?” You mutter, seeing your husband’s eyes first.

“Hi, hon. You passed out. I need you to tell me how you’re feeling,” he says, keeping his voice soft but letting out a breath of relief now that you’re awake. He continues threading his fingers through your hair and rubs his thumb against your cheek.

You blink a couple times and then say, “Tired.”

Exhaustion, then. “You’re sure that’s it? Is anything else wrong?” Hotch asks, anxious to role out some underlying cause.

You nod, then grimace at the lightheaded feeling it gives you, turning and smushing the side of your face in Hotch’s lap. He looks up at the team and gestures his head towards the door.

They get the hint, though Emily and Spencer do offer to stay behind and help. Hotch thanks them but assures them that you’ll be alright and the team takes off.

“Do you feel alright to sit up?” Hotch asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” you murmur and, with his help, sit up. You immediately lean into his arms. “Ooh, wow. Dizzy.”

“I think you pushed yourself a bit too hard, sweetheart. We gotta make sure you rest properly. Wouldn’t hurt to get some food and water in you, too,” Hotch says, cradling you.

You hum in agreement. The two of you sit there for a bit, Hotch being in no rush to move you. He can’t help but reflect a bit and he sighs, shaking his head.

“What?” You ask grumpily.

“Just a little in shock that you actually excused yourself before fainting,” he says. He recognizes the funniness of it, though he lacks any amusement, still too worried.

You chuckle. “Was tryin’ to be polite,” you explain.

“I’m sure you were,” Hotch says, smearing a kiss against your head.

You continue on sitting, Hotch rubbing your back. Finally, he gets the both of you on your feet, and leads you out to the car. He sits you in the passenger’s seat and buckles you in, driving you home. Once there Hotch immediately gets you in bed, helping you change into pajamas before doing the same. He gets you a glass of water and a snack, making sure that you eat and drink it all.

“Wanna sleep now,” you mumble once you’re done, curling into his chest.

“Of course, dear. Just relax,” he coos, already planning to call you both out of work tomorrow. He does not take his wife fainting lightly and is going to do everything he can to make sure you’re okay.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

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Hello,Do you have any tips for recovering from internet brain rot? It's like my patience has dried up and if there's a huge amount of text (even about topics I'm very interested in) that I have to read, I get annoyed and just don't interact with the material at all.

I have multiple tips!

TL;DR (Because of course I generated a wall of text): Take a break from the internet, create a schedule for getting yourself used to reading longer texts, take breaks while reading, and perhaps reconsider how you interact with The Internet and the world in general.

Here are the basic "to reduce the brain rot just don't interact" tips:

Take a break. Give yourself time off from The Internet (for these purposes The Internet is the social media industrial complex; clickbait news, recommended videos, social media sites, etc. You don't have to totally check out of email or your local news site, just get away from the huge time sucks). I'd say to take at least one day a week where you're online for less than an hour a day, and to maybe work up to doing a week-long break from whatever the main agents of rot are.

Once you've identified the main agents of rot, give yourself a time limit or set up rules for yourself. I don't let myself look at social media in bed, for instance; no staying up late on my phone, no scrolling before I get up and start my day. I don't give myself a strict time limit anymore, but for a while there I was very firm about "you only get to go online 4 hours a day" with myself.

Don't comment (or at least only share the things you really want to share). If you feel the need to argue, or if you feel pressured into sharing something, don't. Step back, maybe even open the post in a new tab or send it to yourself, and come back later. If you've been thinking about it and have decided it IS something you care enough to talk about, share it. If you look at the tab and feel stressed out or still feel reactive, close the tab and walk away.

Go out and interact with the real world in a non-work capacity for a few hours a week; take walks or go shopping or go out and take pictures of insects. Touch grass so that The Internet is not the only thing you're doing with your downtime.

Here are the "work on reading longer texts specifically" tips:

Set a reading goal for yourself. Maybe you want to read one New Yorker article a week, maybe you want to read all the way through news articles, maybe you want to read novels like you used to in high school. Figure out what your actual goal is and articulate that goal to yourself.

Set up a practice schedule and gradually increase the amount of time you're reading. Don't go from short tumblr posts to a novella, go from short tumblr posts to slightly longer news articles, then to slightly longer essays, then to a novella. You can do this in literal paragraphs if you want to - maybe your goal for your first day is to read five paragraphs in a row, and the second day is seven, and the third day is ten, etc, until you are comfortably reading for longer amounts of time without counting paragraphs. (Try this with books from gutenberg.org; read a classic you haven't read a few paragraphs at a time and if you find yourself going over your paragraph count, let yourself run with it. If you finish a book, good for you, find another one and start again.)

Set up a maintenance schedule. If your goal is to read longer news pieces, try to read a longer piece every week and try to read to the end of every news article you open. If your goal is to read novels or longer nonfiction, try to read a book a month (maybe setting aside dedicated time each week to read, maybe Thursday evenings are book time now). If you find yourself falling back into old habits, take a break from The Internet and do some more rigorous practice for a while.

If you find yourself getting frustrated while you are reading you can also take a break! Read until you get frustrated and then *instead of switching to a different page or closing the article* close your eyes or look out the window or away from the screen for thirty seconds (count 'em! count out the time in your head) and then continue reading. You can also take a longer pause and sit and think about why you're getting frustrated. Is it the subject matter? Is it just looking at this text for longer than a couple minutes (if you are experiencing FOMO because you're reading for another few minutes instead of scrolling, the harder tips at the bottom are going to be important to you)? Are you comfortable? Are you reading this text to procrastinate from something and the procrastination is making you nervous? Are you trying to read to the bottom of your dash and reading a long post is taking up more time than you want while scrolling? Are you bored? Genuinely and very seriously: are your eyes straining and does your head hurt (if this is the case when is the last time you had your eyes checked or your glasses prescription updated)?

Here are the much harder "examine yourself and reassess your reactions to things" tips:

Work on re-training your attention span.

Identify something that you enjoy and find deeply engaging, and schedule some dedicated time for that thing. Set a literal timer (it can be a short amount of time at first) and sit down and do the thing without switching to a different website or opening up an app on your phone. This can be re-reading or watching a couple episodes of a show you like or listening to your favorite album while you sit down and draw. What's important is to spend a longer time focusing on doing something you DO like before attempting to spend a longer time focusing on something you DON'T like.

When you're starting on things you DON'T like, start with things you mildly don't like, or that feel tedious but aren't actually unpleasant. One way I do this is by transcribing poetry; I look up poems that I connect to and I transcribe them into a notebook that I have for that purpose. I enjoy having the finished product, but I don't enjoy the process, so it takes some effort to stick with it. Maybe there is a boring book you have been trying to get through, maybe you need to detail your car, maybe you've been trying to take up embroidery - these are good things to make yourself pay attention to (having music or a podcast on can help, but avoid watching videos or opening social apps)

When you're okay at that kind of thing (doing something not actively unpleasant) work on your attention span for things you ACTIVELY don't like. I don't think you should be a masochist about this, but you should work on being okay with doing unpleasant things for a sustained period of time. All of us have to do unpleasant stuff sometimes, and it's better to be able to pay attention to it for an hour at a time than it is to put it off forever.

This leads into the next Big Tip which is:

Work on being less reactive

Find something that you dislike; I'm going to use conservative talk radio as my example.

Expose yourself to the disliked thing for short periods of time (under ten minutes, maybe under five minutes).

Work on moderating your emotions during the time spent exposed to the disliked thing. If it makes you angry, work on intellectualizing the anger without becoming agitated by it. If it makes you sad, work on accepting that sadness without letting it drag down your mood. This isn't precisely about becoming numb to stimuli, but it is about being more in control of how your emotional reactions impact you.

Analyze the disliked thing. Why does it make you angry? Is that on purpose by the creator of the thing? Would it make someone else angry in the same way? How would you explain the anger to a neutral third party?

Consider responding instead of reacting. Let's say you're seeing a lot of very sad and upsetting things online and it's making you sad and upsetting you. You re-share these things because you don't feel like there's anything else you can do or you get angry when you see people sharing incorrect information, perhaps you argue with people about this. Now try looking at the upsetting things through the lens of point number four. This has upset you; how has it upset you? And once you've thought about how it upset you and have articulated that to yourself, find out what you can DO. I cannot make conservative talk radio go off the air, but I can support the groups harmed by conservative talk radio; thus there is no point in me getting upset and angry about conservative talk radio when I could be helping the people they target instead.

And that gets us to the last big tip which is:

Ask yourself if you are spending your time in a way that is enjoyable and edifying.

We all have limited time in our days and limited time in our lives. If you are finding yourself frequently frustrated online, it's a good time to consider whether you want to be spending so much time online.

If you feel like The Internet has become a rat race in which you can't read more than a few paragraphs without getting frustrated, there's a good chance that not only are you spending too much time on The Internet, but you're also spending it on doing things that you don't particularly like.

A realization like yours, Anon, that you are getting frustrated with any longer texts, can actually be really helpful because it provides a good opportunity to look at what you're engaging with and consider the questions:

Is this something I enjoy?

Do I feel good when I do this thing?

And that's a great way to figure out how to get rid of things that are leading to your background frustration. Maybe that looks like paring down the list of blogs you follow, maybe that looks like unsubscribing from some youtubers and podcasts, maybe that looks like uninstalling apps, maybe that looks like blocking a whole bunch of people and terms on your socials.

I don't think that everything we do has to help us grow as a person or expand our consciousness or anything like that, but I do think it's important to prioritize doing things that you like and doing things that you feel good about.

Like, I'm not doing something *wrong* if I spend an afternoon on Youtube watching drama channels every once in a while, but if I come out of a few afternoons of watching youtube drama channels feeling restless and anxious and like I wasted my time - even if I enjoyed myself while I was watching - it's probably a good idea for me to take a break from drama channels and see if there's something I can do instead that will make me feel better.

ALSO, A NOTE:

You are an animal that requires significant enrichment in your enclosure.

Think about tigers. Tigers in captivity are going to be excited to get high-value treats for any reason. They will eat and enjoy the treats. But if a tiger in captivity is only given the treats and never given any other form of activity to engage with, it is not going to be a happy tiger. If you start putting their treats in a pumpkin or a puzzle feeder or giving them toys to play with, that is going to be a much happier tiger.

Please give your brain things to play with that are more than just treats (though it does need some treats!). Make yourself a happy tiger. Your brain need a puzzle feeder, not a treat button.

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lovelybrooke · 3 months

Text

Platonic Yandere Hazbin Hotel Concept (pt.1)

Hello, this is based on this post here. Hope you enjoy, also feel free to request for Hazbin Hotel if you want.

Also, fair warning for hints of bad parenting and descriptions of death.

edit: no one mention I spelt the name wrong, got it?

masterlist

---

You weren't normal, you knew that from a young age. From when you fell out of a tree that you knew you shouldn't have been in, feeling the bones snap in your legs and your heart race. Even as a child, you knew you were doomed, watching as the sun slowly set, the stars grace the sky, and you alone as your breathing slowly stops.

You wake up in the hospital, days later, with your mom asleep beside you. Apparently your legs were fine and you passed out from shock. Your mom found you in your backyard hours later, cold and barely breathing. When you didn't wake up when the sun rose, your mom took you to the hospital, and now you're here.

You could barely hear you mothers lecture on the drive home as you sat in the back seat, thinking about the pain you swear you felt when you feel from that tree. Thinking about the snap you heard when your legs hit the ground. Thinking about the fear you felt when you remembered your mom wasn't home, and that no one was coming for you.

Things like that day would happen again and again. You'd cut your hand, bandage it, and the next morning you'd wake up with it completely gone. You'd eat something that your stomach and throat didn't agree with at all, only to be gifted with a beautiful breath of fresh air at the very last second. You'd once even got into your mom's wine when she was sleeping, feeling completely sick but too scared to tell her, only to wake up the next morning completely fine.

You weren't normal, you knew that from a young age. And when you were in your junior year of high school, you knew that the best. When you were walking home from school, it dark and cold in the winter night. You traveled along the road looking for any sign of your mom's car, but in the dark you couldn't see anything, not even the car swerving right towards you. The headlights were so bright that in those last few seconds, you felt warm. But then you were cold again, as you lay on the icy road, the blood left your body and you breathed your final breath.

You awoke in a strange and unfamiliar place, the lights bright but radiating no warmth. It was like the cities you see in movies, strange people and sounds everywhere. You were still recovering from the shock, your breathing quick and erratic. You tried to ignore the stares on you as you raced to find a place to hide. You could hear people scream at you, try to grab on to you, but you just keep moving.

Eventually you find a door, and despite your better judgement you went through it. As you slammed the door close behind you, you couldn't help realize that this place was much calmer. It was so strange, how instantly you felt like this place was so different. For a moment, all you did was stand and look around the room, noticing a bar, a fireplace, and a front desk. You've never been to a hotel before, but this is what you imagined it would look like, minus all the macabre imagery. You would've just remained there in the entrance if wasn't for some strange looking creature, pink with four arms, entering the room and giving you a strange look.

"Charlie? What the fuck is a human doing here" he yelled, and for a second you wanted to crawl into your skin. He was so tall, nearly blocking your view of the much more normal looking woman crashing in, looking just as confused as the man in front of you. Followed by her was yet another woman, who looked more angry than confused. The original woman, the one you assumed to be Charlie, carefully stepped up next to the strange, four armed creature.

"Uh--I don't know..." She mumbled, staring you up and down. You don't know what to do in the situation, what to say or even what to do.

"Where am I?" You whisper out. It felt like the first time you talked in hours, your throat sore a rough. "Why am I here?" you whisper again only slightly louder. You could feel their judging gazes on you.

"Sorry buddy, you're in hell." The pink one said, getting a side eye from Charlie. "Angel!" She yelled, clearly wanting him to shut up. He, Angel, shrugged, clearly loosing interest and walking away. Charlie could judge by the look on your face that you were clearly distressed, sweat deeding down your face while you stare into space.

"Hey, don't worry, we all have to die sometime." She attempts to comfort you, rubbing you back gently. You don't feel comforted though, you feel confused. You don't feel dead, more like your mind is in a different place, separate from your body. "You don't...look dead though." She wondered aloud.

"Charlie, what are we gonna do with them." The other woman said. She looked more intimidating than the others, her voice alone making you shiver slightly. "We can't just--keep a human here." She tried to whisper the last part, but you heard it clearly.

"Vaggie! We can't just abandon them!" Charlie exclaimed, grasping the other's shoulders tight. At this point you felt like more of a side thought. "Plus, if a humans down here, they're probably dead so..." Neither of them were good at being subtle were they. After whispering a bit to each other, Charlie took a deep breath and faced you. "Hi! My Names Charlie Morningstar! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!"

You introduced yourself, explained you situation, keeping out your suspicious history of not really being able to die. Maybe you were just really lucky, you thought, and that your luck just ran out. The Hotel wasn't that bad, and out of all the places you could spend you time, it was probably the best. You still couldn't get over the fact that you really didn't feel dead, almost like you were lost but couldn't remember where you trying to go in the first place. Everyone in hell looked so--unique was probably the best word, but you looked the same as the day you died. Charlie told you that it wasn't anything you should worry about, but it still made you stick out like a sore thumb.

Speaking of Charlie, she became a really great friend. She was very concerned with you fitting in with the others at the Hotel, even if it was a struggle. You mainly just sticked to yourself, since you didn't feel comfortable leaving the hotel. Every once in a while, you'd hang out at the bar, where you met the bartender Husk. He was nice, at least nice enough to make you alcohol free drinks, almost being able to sense your aversion to alcohol. Sometime you'd see Angel there, mainly after work. He never told you what he did for work, but you could assume, not like it was your place to judge him. You grew closer to Vaggie as you grew closer to Charlie. They cared about each other, it was very nice to see. It made the Hotel feel just a little bit warmer. You even got to meet the little housekeeper named Niffty, who was definitely a character.

Though you often have the feeling that you're missing someone. It wasn't until a few weeks into your stay at the Hotel that you actually got to meet Alastor. He was--creepy, and you couldn't get over the feeling that he knows too much about you. You don't miss the scared looks the others have then he's around, or the predatory gaze he gives you often. But you choose not to think about it, since other than his more than strange behavior, he's pretty kind.

Your stay at the Hazbin Hotel is overall, a nice one, though pretty reliant on you ignoring the whispering in the walls and the strange feeling that you're always being watched. Every day you're here, you feel your mind become more hazy, barely being able to pay attention, and if it wasn't for the others, you feel as though you'd loose yourself completely.

---

A/n: sorry for the abrupt ending, Tumblr couldn't handle my ramblings. I'll try to get part 2 out soon, which will focus more on the characters rather than lore. Sorry if this wasn't what you expected.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel

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judasofsuburbia · 10 months

Text

“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.

steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”

a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“eds. eds, can you hear me?”

“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”

“who’s crying?” steve asks.

“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”

more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.

“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”

“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”

“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.

“got it.”

steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.

steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.

eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.

“help me,” eddie mouths.

“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.

“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.

“give her here,” steve says.

eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.

“what’s her name?” steve asks.

“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.

“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”

she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.

“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”

“probably,” eddie mutters.

“i’m going to anyway.”

steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.

eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“

“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”

eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.

cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.

so he decides to do it scared.

the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.

“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”

cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”

cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.

“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”

cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.

“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“

cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.

it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.

steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.

“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.

eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”

“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.

“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.

“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.

“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.

they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.

“you're magical,” eddie whispers.

“please,” steve scoffs.

“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.

”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.

”do what?“

”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.

steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“

eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.

”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“

”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.

eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.

”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“

”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.

”maybe but it wasn't enough.“

”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“

eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“

steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“

”i'm getting it.“

they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.

”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.

“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.

“thank you again,” eddie whispers.

“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.

eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.

“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”

“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.

”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“

eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“

”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”

eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.

“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.

that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.

when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”

(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)

#emily writes #idk why i hc steve being great with babies but i just DO #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fics #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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andersonlore · 4 months

Text

currently thinking about....

doctor!abby who you meet for the first time when she’s covering the emergency room. you’re a patient, suffering from abdominal pain and a high fever. it’s pretty quiet, and it’s also three in the morning on a wednesday. late night shifts weren’t unfamiliar territory for her, she only had a few more hours left and she would be calling it a night.

doctor!abby who greets you with a soft smile as she glazes over your chart, before introducing herself. even with all the pain you’re in, you try your best to muster the courage to put on your best face, but you’re in pain and it’s evident.

doctor!abby tells you she wants to run a few more tests after you explain to her what brought you back in here. she tells the intern to notify her when your test results come back in. she believes it’s your appendix, inflamed and your symptoms masking themselves as a flu doesn’t help. it’s why the last hospital had missed it when you came in a week ago.

doctor!abby attempts to stir the thought of you from her mind. you're a patient. she's your doctor, and she'll be your surgeon if she's right about your prognosis. abby can't think about how you're extremely easy on the eyes. how your eyelashes compliment your eyes, accentuating the darling hue she could get lost in if she allowed herself. your voice floats over her heart like honey, sweetening her up at her very core. it's sickening how she wants to swallow every bit of it.

doctor!abby finds it a little hard to believe she feels this way just after one brief interaction with you. she prides herself on being professional, being distant enough from the patient. she has to be, her focus needs to be lasered when she's in the operating room. she can't think of how beautiful you are, how much she wants to flirt with you, and how she would if she'd met you anywhere but this godforsaken hospital. god has a special kind of torture for making you her patient. she can just be your surgeon. cut you open, patch you up, and send you back home. it's all she can do.

doctor!abby wants to uppercut this intern’s jaw. it’s really not their fault, but you’re undeniably in pain and they were attending to another patient before giving your results to the lab. but it’s more than clear with the results coming back, it’s your appendix and she’s sure at this point it’s ruptured. fresh tears spring to your eyes as she explains they need to get you into surgery right away, before any further damage can happen.

doctor!abby watches as you wipe your tears away, embarrassed you’re crying in front of the stupidly hot doctor. it’s mortifying, and you hated to be like this in front of anyone. abby’s expression is focused, cold even. she reassures you the intern is going to prep you for surgery, the weight in your shoulders drops, but the pain persistent.

doctor!abby who is elated when the surgery goes smoothly. you wake up several hours later with slight discomfort, but you’re recovering nicely. she was supposed to leave the hospital hours ago, but couldn't bring herself too. the thoughts of you coming out of anthesia after your surgery, telling her how gorgeous she is and how briliant she is to save your life.

doctor!abby who was thankful you wouldn't remember her cheeks flushed, dazed eyes and a stupid smile from your compliment alone — thankfully no one to see how unprofessional she was being. how her stupid, caring heart couldn't seem to control itself around you. she blamed your eyes. they were too easy to get fall for, making her get lost in nostalgia, as if she’d loved you in some past life.

doctor!abby who thinks about you even after you’re discharged. you’re home, healthy, and should be out of her mind but you’re not. your existence stretched into every thought of hers. god, maybe it’s impenetrable, rose-colored glasses affecting her judgement, but she wonder what it would be like to see you out of the walls of this hospital. she imagines picking you up for a first date, holding your hand sweetly even if she was nervous — god — she thinks about kissing you the most. she would savor every moment if you let her.

doctor!abby who happens to see you again at dina’s place or more accurately, you’re waiting in the pouring rain, downright soaked. lightning paints the skies, cracking thunder rumbles making you jump as your rubs your hands along your forearms trying to regain some warmth. she’s never been more thankful for her loud neighbor. of all the people in the seattle area dina could be friends with it’s you. the woman she can’t stop thinking about, the beautiful goddess she dreams about is within her reach and she’s definitely going to take advantage of it.

abby softly greets you not wanting to frighten you, declaration of her appearance known as she says your name eloquently. it’s the hot doctor, oh my god. oh my god.

“dr. anderson?” you question, a hint of a smile wanting to escape and abby takes note. your hair is wet, silky, hint of curls forming. drops of the rain flow over supple cheeks, falling over wet lips.

yet again, abby is reminded of just how beautiful you are. butterflies swarm the pit of her stomach at your excitement to see her. you’re surprised but you can’t stop looking at her. it’s a relief, the hope you might feel the same as her.

“please, just abby.” so distracted by her, domineering presence you noticed the umbrella she had, shielding you from the dreadful rain. but it really didn’t seem too terrible. not when she was in your company.

abby was shed of her white coat, only wearing navy blue scrubs and simple tennis shoes for comfort. biceps sculpted to the heavens, slightly wet from the rain which seemed to make them appear even more delicious. you want to eat her right up.

“i’m so confused. you live here?” abby gestures to the house right next door. “yeah, right next door.”

“i was just coming home and you looked…..wet.” abby silently cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward. it was worth it though, your small laugh an equal reward.

“if you want, you can come to mine. dry off, not get completely soaked while you wait for dina.” abby offers sweetly. “totally up to you, but my home is pretty damn cozy. warm too.”

the two of you are smiling like idiots. abby’s hoping you say yes and you’re thinking about how adorable she is, despite how physically terrifying she may appear.

“okay….yeah. i might be into that.”

“yeah?” abby’s voice changes, dropping into a tone you hadn’t heard before. it’s pure velvet and you want to feel it on your skin. you want to feel all of her. she leads the way as you stay under the umbrella, impossibly close to her as she protects you from the rain.

doctor!abby who gets you a change of dry clothes, a crewneck sweater and sweatpants. she can’t help but notice how adorable you look in her clothes. abby tries to do her best not to flirt with you as you’re sitting on her couch, but she fails. she’s asking normal questions, non-sequential small talk, but her hand is on your thigh. though the cotton is thick, her touch lights a fire between your thighs.

doctor!abby who nearly combusts when you start touching her arms, her shoulder, ghosting longer her thigh. but they find home elsewhere. fingers delicately smoothing over the end of her braid. abby can’t stop the way her heart stops, and then continues. the blonde strands wrap around your finger like a vice, clinging onto you as if it’s the sole purpose of existing.

doctor!abby who can see the ember shining in your eyes, the way you’re looking at her, like you might just eat her whole. fuck, she would let you too. she’d let you do whatever you want.

“i bet you look beautiful with your hair down.” you tell abby, inching forward, your thigh touching hers. “but you’re beautiful like this, too.”

“beautiful? me?” abby questioned as if it wasn’t obvious.

“don’t play dumb, dr. anderson.”

“i told you to call me ab—” her words just stop when you sling your left leg over, straddling her, grinding your hips just slightly before you fully press your weight on her. she sighs at the contact. feels s’good, having you this close.

wordlessly, you slowly undo her braid until every blond strand is free, her scalp thankful for it. abby moans as you run your fingers through her hair. your bring it over her shoulders on both sides, cradling her face in the palm of your hands.

“you really think you’re not? you’re going to sit here and pretend like you’re not the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen?” abby blushes, supple cheeks close to crimson, but she doesn’t look away.

“yeah, baby? you think so?”

“i know you are.”

abby lifts her hips cockily, smirking as the moan leaves your lips. all these layers, but being pressed up against her is doing something to you.

“i guess blonde doctors are your type then, huh?”

“only when they keep checking up on me when they didn’t have to.” your hands rest on her hips, as you lean into her, nose pressed against hers, lips ghosting over her very kissable ones.

“i was just doing my job, you know?”

“sure you were, dr. anderson.” abby grunts, aggravated you won’t just say her name again. she needs to hear it.

she can feel your breath on her lips, if she just moved slightly upwards, she’d be kissing you. she wants to, needs to.

“you want to kiss me.” your pupils dilate and your voice trembles.

“say my name and maybe i will.”

“so it’s that easy?”

“mhmmm, that easy.” abby hums, and her name is about to fall off your lips. tragically, dina walks through abby’s front door before you get the chance to. you’re not embarrassed to be found on abby’s lap, and dina knows it too. she just laughs and asks if you’re ready to go.

you whisper in abby’s ear before biting gently, “until next time, dr. anderson.”

an. omfg i actually like something i wrote???? wild.

#✭・۪ ⊹ ֗ ray’s works #if you're a med student....do not come for me pls #yes i’ve been watching a lot of grey’s anatomy and thinking about abby being my doctor #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou2 #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x poc reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 month

Text

Fuckboy Eddie falls in love, fwb, little bit of smut. Cocky Eddie, 18+ Mdni.

🎀💌

Fuckboy Eddie has met his match when it comes to you, he assumes because at first you're sweet and a little on the shy side that he will be the one calling the shots.

He's wrong of course.

On the night that the two of you meet it's at one of Steve's parties. He's recently started throwing them again for the gang, it's fun and he's met a ton of hot chicks because of it.

You're a friend of Steve and Robins who work with him at Family Video, At the party you stick close to the two of them, nervous about meeting new people.

Occasionally Eddie manages to catch your eye, he winks at you from where he's sitting, flirts heavily when Robin and Steve introduce you to the rest of the gang.

Seduce and fuck, that's his motto, he's not interested in seeing a woman more than once, and he much prefers the briefest flings if he does. That way no one expects anything more from him.

He doesn't see how tonight will go any different but boy he's in for a surprise. The first surprise is when he asks you out, you look him dead in the eye and smirk.

"Sorry pretty boy, I'm not interested" Eddie's brain goes brrr for a few seconds, he can't remember the last time his flirting attempts failed so spectacularly.

"I uh..." he stumbles over his words, tongue tied and growing frustrated with himself. You take pity on him.

"Look I haven't had sex in like the longest time, I'm horny as shit and even though I say I'm not looking for anything more than some hot sex, we all know someone always catches feelings for their fuck buddy and I'd like to avoid that"

He gapes stunned then recovers. "What a coincidence, I'm just looking for just some hot sex too" you eye him up and down, there's a small smile on your face.

"Oh honey, you wouldn't be able to handle me, I'd rock your world" your hand brushes over his shoulder as you sashay pass him, he gently tugs you back and your eyes meet his, full of lust.

"Try me sweetheart"

...

Exactly twenty minutes later the two of you are in Eddie's room, the door locked and the two of you sweaty, naked and fucking each other until you're both spent and sated.

Eddie is lying beside you, his head empty of all thoughts except the fact that you did rock his world, repeatedly. The sex was mindblowing.

You lay with him for a minute before getting up and pulling on your clothes, "Where are you going?" He asked confused as you fix your hair and make up.

"Early start handsome, gotta run. That was fantastic" you blow him a kiss and then you're out the door, leaving Eddie speechless.

Well that was a first.

...

The same situation carried on for weeks, the two of you would have sex and it would be incredible but then either one of you would leave.

Except Eddie noticed that his bed was a lot colder without you in it, missed your laugh or you sarcasm when you weren't around. So he started going to Family Video more to spend time with you, flirt and see your pretty smile.

Whenever that smile was directed at him, it was like his whole heart went pitter patter very fast, he felt like he was a teenager again with his very first crush.

Butterflies, racing heart, sweaty palms, it was humiliating. He hated when some douchebag noticed you, so Eddie left little lovebites on your skin and pleased you for hours if some idiot tried to flirt with you. He liked reminding you that he could pleasure you better than some limp dick asshole.

He loved when you cried out his name, chanted it in sweet, reverent tones.

That's when Eddie came to the conclusion one day when you were laying fast asleep beside him after a long work day and a very hot shower session with him. His conclusion being that finally after all of these years he had met his match.

"Someone always catches feelings for their fuck buddy" that's exactly what you said all those weeks ago.

He just never expected that he would be the one who caught feelings.

The fuckboy was well and truly fucked... and completely in love with you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson smut

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