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#crayon bandaids...
emerdoodls · 3 months
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sometimes joy is found in crayon shaped bandaids
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egoisticqueer · 1 year
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[It's time for another Good Morning Monster to be prepared. This time, it's two: one Watermelon flavored, the other the white flavor, but has a lot more other items with it to pass around. Strawberry lemonade Pedialyte, purple flowers, a fresh first-aid kit, and colorful crayon bandaids. The note says, "Hope the squad gets to feeling better soon. Rest well. Thanks for all you do, Soul."]
God, I... do I really deserve all of this?
Thank you so much. Truly.
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squeaky-toy · 1 year
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everything is always uncertain and scary but god help me if anyone can stop me from being SO happy about things!!!
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risaonda · 1 year
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u know u never just have a roll of non adhesive gauze wrap just lying around when u need it
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ssahotchnerr · 3 months
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could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?
something special
<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining
"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.
"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."
about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.
you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.
when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.
"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"
"since always." jack grinned proudly.
"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"
"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.
a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.
"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"
jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."
"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.
"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."
there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.
"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."
"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.
just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.
in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.
it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.
again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.
"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."
aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.
jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"
"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."
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padawansuggest · 15 days
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JediTok
Anakin: *sitting on the floor with Luke, a small cut on his ankle* But what if I start to bleed out?
Luke: *looking through a box of crayon shaped bandaids to pick out the right one* You’ll be fine, it’s not even bleeding.
Leia: *showing up with a training saber in hand* Master says you didn’t bleed out in your arm because the lightsaber cauterizes as it cuts. I’m sure I could burn it closed for you.
Anakin: *glaring at an amused Obi-Wan, clearly the person filming* That’s okay, babygirl, I think Luke found the best bandaid so I’ll be okay.
Leia: Suit yourself.
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abcbinkz · 10 months
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🎨🩹💭 paint covered fingers , crayon and marker scribbles , grass and dirt stained knees , lots of bandaids , playgrounds and sunny days , Velcro shoes , stuffie frens , stim toys , noise cancelling headphones , tears ,antiseptic and tight hugs , star printed sippy cups , fruit juice , playing pretend , animal ears , rolling in the grass , building castles out of sand and pies out of mud , storybooks and lemon / blueberry incense , treehouses and blankie forts , healing and coping in our little world ⛺️🧺🧸
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areislol · 2 months
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this goes towards my current wip with al haitham so
child al haitham x child reader // cute moments :)
some moments on angst (mentions of his parents seperating, this is just a hc of mine for some angst don't bash me pls) not proofread. short
a/n: this was for funsies, honestly i just needed to write something cute and fluffy after writing an angsty wip, i can't write this all in my current wip hence, this!
when he was reading a book to you
when you were rolling on the ground trying to get his attenton as he read a book
when al haitham was trying his best to console you with awkward pats on the back after having tripped and cried
al haitham's mother making him hold your hand when crossing the street.
when you had a sleep over at his place and fell asleep on his bed, both of your tiny hands just barely touching each other
al haitham trying to stop you from touching a stray cat saying that it was "dirty and mommy said not to touch a cat outside, you can get hurt and even die!!" poor boy was scared for you
you laughing at him as he falls, when he cries and puts the blame on you, you both get time out and somehow you manage to run away, dragging al haitham with you as your mother chases you
building a sand castle with him, it's very sloppy looking but you were proud of it, and so was al haitham. so when a random child that was getting chased by their friends and run over your sandcastle he is furious, swearing to find them when his older and destory their sandcastle as pay back. and when he notices that you're sobbing uncontrollably? he might just even have a talk with them.
al haitham who helps you steal the cookie jar that was ONLY meant to be eaten after dinner, and when your grubby tiny hands reach for it and break it, he takes the blame.
al haitham who lets you put stickers and bows on his face as he reads a book, as long as you aren't in the way of course (he doesn't mind if you do or don't) and refuses to take them off when he needs to shower.
al haitham who is always there to help you get up when you trip and fall, even asking his mother to buy him a small hang bag so he can stuff bandaids in there.
al haitham gets really, seriously mad when someone picks on you for being "too loud" or "running around too much", he doesn't outright say anything but the glares...? even for a young child like him, whew.
he's always with you, before school, during school, after school and even during the holidays! (no wonder you're so close) and he doesn't mind, his mother is always tearing up as she watches her son watch you hold the crayon whole and scribble on a paper, and when you invite him to draw with you? ack! two cuties trying their best to draw each other.
(turns out to look like human blobs, one with grey hair with green streaks and one with [h/c]!! the eyes are disproportional but what can you expect from 5/6 year olds..)
al haitham who stays silent and listens as you yell at him out of anger when he accidentally loses a doll you gave him, he's clearly upset that you're mad at him but now he's mad at you, why are you yelling at him he did nothing wrong!!
this results in you ignoring him (it was a pain) and of course, al haitham hates it when you ignore him. so as usual, he asks his mother to give you a bag full of your favourite candies. you forgive him in less than a minute.
al haitham doesn't own much toys and likes books, any book. even if he can't read them he finds the pictures interesting. so he's more than elated when he sees that you got him new books on his birthday or even as a surprise gift!!
sometimes you lend him your toys so that you two could play together, you were taught to share of course. you often force him to play barbie dolls with you, not that he minds, it's just... does he really have to put on a girly voice for raquelle?
he swears that he won't ever play this game with you ever again after his friends caught him playing with you. (but secretly he continues to do so after making sure no one is around)
!!! playing family!!! you're always the mother who works hard by playing soccer and earning no money whatsoever while al haitham is the father who stays home and reads books. for some odd reason he feels this tingly feeling in his heart when he plays this game with you. what if one day when you're both older and live together with 5 exotic cats and wolves? what a dream.
al haitham who recieves a paper from his teacher that states "what is your dream?" for a class activity and immediately you pop up in his mind. his dream... is to make you happy. other than reading all the books in the world and making his mama and papa proud!
he gets upset when you aren't here with him for a day or more, say, you're on a holiday in another country or state, boy is he gonna be pestering and begging his mother to see you!! please, he needs to go there right now!!! (ever heard of face time?)
later in the years al haitham's always embarrassed when his mother brings that up, saying that it's "not true" but then completely freezes when his mother takes out her phone, saying "oh no worries, i have a video recording!!" and turns to face you, smiling. the way the colors drain from his face.
who is afraid to lose you after his mother came into his room and sat by the edge of his bed, her hand caressing his soft hair. "my dear boy," she would say softly, her gaze so soft and gentle.
"is it okay it mama comes in?" al haitham nods his head, how could he ever deny his mother's request?
"thank you baby, now, mama has something to say. don't be too scared now, okay?" al haitham nods, continung to lie down on his best tucked in nicely.
"people come and go, al, you will understand one day but... sigh, mommy and daddy have to tell you something."
ever since then he's sure to do whatever it takes to make you happy, he doesn't want you to leave him, ever. not like you would ever!!
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romeulusroy · 11 months
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Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1
A/N: This I'd solely based on this fic, which I am in love with :) There is no gif of all four of them that isn't sad!!! 😭
Warning: addiction/addiction mention, abuse/neglect
Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2
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You were an accident. Your siblings made jokes about it your entire life, but there was some truth to it. Logan didn't want anymore kids, he didn't want the kids he had, but you were born regardless of what he thought or wanted
Your mother had a short fling with Logan between Lady Caroline and Marcia. They were married, sure, but that didn't really mean anything, and they divorced shortly after you were born
Your siblings were already out the door by the time you came along, but they still adored you, especially as a baby/toddler
The few pictures you have of your childhood, you're surrounded by your brothers and sister, all of them wanting to hold you and play with you
They really do love you, in their own ways
Connor especially loved you. It's his favorite thing in the world to be a big brother fatherly figure to you and Ken and Shiv and Roman. He was so lonely when it was just him. Now he has you guys 💕
You grew up watching your siblings fight and argue and bicker as a means of showing their love, though Connor tried his best to show you what real love was (aka not just swearing at one another)
He didn't want you growing up the same way he had, ignored and terribly unloved. He never wants you to feel the same way he did, does
"Bitch."
"Whore."
"Shiv, Rome, not in front of y/n."
Roman took it upon himself to steer you clear of certain friends of Logan's, friends like Mo, who weren't to be trusted around children. Whenever you asked why, he'd give you some non-answer answer and tell you to get back to your blocks
"Babies play with blocks."
"Then your crayons, I don't know- whatever."
Kendall always had something sweet for you when he has a meeting with Logan. You weren't allowed sweets, not around your father, but Ken could always sneak you something. Even as you got older, and you reminded him you weren't a little kid anymore, he never forgot your favorites
"You know I'm not five anymore, right?"
"I know, I know, just take it."
Whatever kindness they showed you, it could never equate to the love of your parents, especially your father, neither of which were affectionate people
You were an angry kid. Your father wasn't exactly the most loving. In fact, you sensed that he hated you for as long as you could remember. That made you mad and disappointed in yourself, like you'd done something wrong. Like you were born wrong. So you'd lash out. You broke things, you screamed and cried, you hurt yourself in the process, you did all you could to get his attention, and still nothing worked. Nothing.
Rather, it was Shiv who held a frozen bag of peas on your bruises, who wrapped bandaids around your broken skin, and reminded you you were only hurting yourself, the two of you watching the housekeeper sweep up glass or patch up walls, whatever mess you made. She didn't like seeing you like this, knowing it only enraged your father instead of getting the response you were looking for
"Y/n, why do you keep doing this?"
"I don't know."
"There's gotta be a reason."
There were hundreds of reasons, but you didn't have the words for it yet, so you'd shrug, feeling lighter having gotten it all out
You were grounded a lot, for days at a time, your father banishing you to your room when he was sick of dealing with you. It only made you more upset. Nannies quit constantly, so a lot of the time, it was up to him to deal with your antics. Your mother, when she was home, stayed far from either of you, feigning a headache
You didn't have the words to explain all this, so you made a mess of your room. Tore things apart, broke everything in sight. If it wasn't your body that was hurting, it was the things around you. Eventually, he got rid of everything but the dresser and your bed. Everything else was bare. You'd kick and thrash and yell, but you were too afraid to leave
He didn't have to lock the door, though. All he had to do was stand in front of your door for a few minutes, not saying a word, and that was scary enough to get you to stop, at least for the time being
None of your siblings knew about this. When you were grounded, Logan never let them near you. It wouldn't be until years later that Ken or Con even suspected anything like that when you made a passing comment
He saw your out-of-control emotions as weakness. He tried to get your mother to help, blaming her family genes, but she was out of the house long before you got yourself under control. She moved on with her life, leaving you with him to go abroad, live the life of luxury with her flavor of the month. She had no interest in being your mother, deciding you'd be better off with him
One day he called you into his study. You knew you'd done bad. You'd thrown another tantrum in front of his investors, in front of friends, and that was the last straw. Tabloids were already talking about the cuts and bruises you gave to yourself, accusing Logan of abusing you. He was completely embarrassed by your behavior, your newest Nanny dragging you out before any real damage was done. Still, you knew that crossed a line. You were sick with worry. You'd only ever been in his study a handful of times, mostly sneaking in when he wasn't home.
Logan gave you the only advice you'd ever receive from him: Quiet down. It was vague and angry and not very helpful, like most of his parenting ways
Soon after that, you had your first drink. You weren't sure what it was, or why you wanted to try it, only that Roman had left it unattended and wouldn't notice, that it made your family a little bit better so why couldn't it help you?
It was the first time in a long time everything had gone quiet. This fury that sat in the middle of your chest has shrunk. You felt like you could breathe and think without wanting to explode. Without wanting to burn the world down. It didn't taste good, at all, but it helped
You figured this is what he meant. This is what he wanted. It wasn't a lot, not enough to get you drunk, but enough to quiet every mean thought in your head
After that, you found your new way to cope. The tantrums stopped. You were rewarded with your things back. Your nanny remained skeptical, but everyone else saw this is a good thing, a phase you'd grown out of. Shiv especially found relief in this, the sight of those bruises and gashes and cuts enough to make her scared what you were going to do next
Your mother believed it was the strict parenting style of Logan that straightened you out, even happier with her decision to leave you behind
From then on out, you were sneaking anything you could. From your father, your siblings, off the silver platters at parties and dinners and meetings. No one noticed when an extra glass went missing. They barely noticed your existence
Your tolerance grew the older you got, and the anger came back. This indescribable fury caused fights between you and Logan, rarely between you and your siblings. Those moments were the worst, when you couldn't bite your tongue. The alcohol could only do so much, so you turned to other things to take that last edge off
Kendall had coke, you could get weed at school, there were a surplus of pills in the bathroom cabinet. Whatever it took to quiet down, whatever it took to take that edge off, to stop acting this way, you figured it was the right thing to do
Your teens were a blur, a mass, of bad ideas and forced photo opportunities. Going to clubs until the sun came out, calling cars to pick you up, changing just in time for a family dinner to discuss shareholders or to schmooze with old friends of Logans. Always polite, always present, even if you were a million miles away
You weren't sleeping a lot, but you didn't need to. The uppers kept you awake, the downers kept your skin from crawling, the booze leveled everything out
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sardonic-the-writer · 6 months
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𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: scout, medic, pyro, sniper, and spy
↳ warnings: talk of pain but nothing too in detail. specific area of pain is kept ambiguous for inclusiveness
↳ song: teenage dirtbag—dsiboys
masterlist!
𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭
• Scout is honestly just bummed you won't be playing any baseball games with him anytime soon
• He strikes me as the type of guy to not take your illness as seriously as he should, often making pokes and jabs of you just wanting to get out of stuff, until he sees one of your bad days with his own eyes
• After that, he's so ashamed of himself for how he acted. Shuffling his feet and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously; all that jazz
• Is a lot more aware of your needs now
• Still puts up a front. Refuses to be anything sort of quote unquote 'manly', so expressing that he's worried about your wellbeing is hard to do in front of the others
• Does care about you, though. He might get teased for it— resulting in the tips of his ears turning red and a bunch of angry denial —but at the end of the day he'll offer up his prized comic books for you to read as a distraction
𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜
• Medic has undoubtedly noticed your condition far before you chose to tell him. How he had figured it out so quick, you had no idea, but he probably found out the same way he knew what your blood type was. Despite never having given him a sample
• It's a bit weird at first, having someone who constantly wants to do invasive surgery on your body actually offering to ease your pain.
• It is Medic after all. A small part of you had been nervously wondering if he would get some sort of sick joy out of watching you struggled to do basic tasks
• Instead, he was giving you special visitation hours with Archemedes while he tinkered with what he dubbed 'Your Problem Area'. Whether that was your knees or back or shoulders, a file on your condition quickly opened and the quickest course of action was taken to remedy it
• Gives you little suckers at the end of your visits and a big smile for a job well done
𝐏𝐲𝐫𝐨
• You aren't sure if they understand what you're saying when you first explain it
• To be fair, you can't decipher them on a normal basis, so this was expected
• But Pyro just tilts their head before letting out what sounded like a sniffling noise and bringing you into a bone crushing hug
• You wouldn't be able to tell, but in their own special Pyro Vision, the arsonist could occasionally see a painful red surrounding you anytime you felt like this. And it pained them to know you were hurting from something other than the scheduled battles
• Colors you crude little drawings with their box of crayons Engineer bought them. It often depicts you and them riding unicorns or jumping over rainbows. Always smiling and having fun
• Takes to plastering little cartoony bandaids over your skin. They don't really solve any actual pain, but the thought is still there
• Will make little fires for you and bring you to them happily. Normally, it's followed by Heavy or Engineer rushing over to put it out before it spread
𝐒𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫
• On the off chance that he actually came out of his trailer, Sniper would be awkwardly helpful
• He most likey heard you talking to Medic or complaining to Spy about your chronic pain, and put two and two together
• Why you were shut up in your room durring mealtime somedays, constsntly seen walking in and out of the med bay, taking numerous amounts of pills in the morning, etc
• Is discreet in his care. It'll be little things, like telling Scout to 'lay off mate' if the Bostonian is hounding you about your lackluster performance that day; even if only as a joke
• If Sniper is lucky enough to bag some game on one of the ceasefire days, he'll approach your bedroom door and offer you a bit of the meat he cooked. Won't be offended if you're not up to it, just puts it in the fridge for later if you change your mind. Makes sure that the rest of the team knows it's for you, too
𝐒𝐩𝐲
• Spy is probably the most elegant of the team when acknowledging your condition
• If he's feeling nice when you approach him about it, he'll nod along to your small explanation and even indulge you if you choose to rant about it for a bit
• If he's not in a good mood, then just wait it out. It's not worth the wrath of an angry Frenchman for bothering him. Will become slightly less angered if you explain you were only there to share some vulnerability, however
• Tells you there's no shame in it. As an older man himself, he's no stranger to the pain that comes with this job
• Might allow you to crash in his smoking room a few times if your room is being overrun by the others. Spy knows that you won't pull any funny business on him, and god help anyone that tries to barge in in search of you (namely Scout)
• Content to sit in comfortable silence as you rest up and sleep away the pain. Spy might be a no-good lying back stabber, but at the end of the day, he's still a gentleman
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piercetheaspen · 27 days
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I just shoplifted CRAYON BANDAIDS. What has my life come to 😭
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little-silly-bear · 1 year
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Tips for dysphoric kiddos for that time of the month
Hi kiddos! Many requested ways to not feel dysphoric and still being tiny so I'm gonna try my best to not use words that can trigger you and give you some tips! Hope they'll help you, remember that no matter what your brain says you're still valid and deserving of whatever you want okay?
- First if the word for that time of the month triggers you try to use something funny! I call mine the Shark Week! I pretend I survived a shark attack and I'm recovering from it!
- If The Shark week isn't for you try to imagine something like a battle or a fight where you won but got some injuries so that's why you feel sick and need to rest
- You can also play this scene during play time or in bed if you're feeling unwell, for example you're a brave knight that is fighting a dragon (a plushie or your cg) that can keep your mind busy and help you feel better!
- Another tip is to have a companion for that time of the month! For example you can pick a stuffie of your same gender and make them wear what you wear or you can make them "bleed" using crayons or something that is easily washable! So you'll feel less alone and your pain is now something you both share!
- For masculine/nonbinary kiddos you can also use boxers or double boxers to feel more cozy and less obligated to wear something else! Prioritize comfy clothes and things that make you feel gender euphoria! For example i wear my baggy pants and my mandalorian oversized t-shirt!
-Another tip is to redirect the pain to somewhere else in your body! If it's that time of the month I pretend I need to find the reason behind my pain, so I check different body parts like my legs or my forehead and cover them with kids bandaids! That helps me think that I'm feeling bad for something else
- Final tip rest! No matter what, you need to rest, in particular if you feel dysphoric too. Put some comfy clothes, drink something warm, watch your favorite shows or cartoons but try to prioritize your recovery! You fought well little knight now you need to recover okay?
I hope these tips helped you! They help me a lot during very bad dysphoric days, remember to stay safe and be gentle with yourself! I send you a big virtual hug!
Remember that you CAN like and reblog but you CAN'T repost even with credits or use the tag #mine!
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justfranzz · 5 months
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Mirrors show only what is already there.
(Bloodied fists, drip drip drip-ing on the carpet.)
The mud by the beach tastes like home. Ask him how he knows.
(Home can be a house, and houses can be burned down.)
What belongs to you, but other people use it more than you do?
(Torn up knuckles; blood on the glass, glass in his skin. Equivalent exchange, he thinks.)
What's the use in having a reflection if there's no one there to see it?
(Eyes scratched out, mouth hanging agape, fists clenched and bloody at his sides.)
Time is a house, and houses can be burned down, and someone he shouldn't know has just formed an unlikely friendship with arson.
(He is not a person. He is only a reflection, an 8th grade art project, paper machê and glitter and smudged crayon.)
Immortality is to be remembered. He carries the immoralities of five strangers he knows better than himself, clutched tightly in his bloodied fists.
("What am I trying to say?" he tries to say, but seawater fills his throat and caresses his lungs.)
If this house is a home, it isn't a very good one.
(He wishes he could see anything past the blood on his hands and the scream in his chest and the little boy who wants more than anything for his dad to be proud of him.)
Riz Gukgak is looking in a mirror, and he's been the mirror all along, fingerprints buried in the glass.
(Maybe if he works a little harder, sleeps a little less, bleeds a little more, he can prove he's worthy. Of what, he doesn't know.)
Suffering is not noble. His fists will not heal, no matter how much ointment he puts on them.
(Red-soaked bandaids, piled in the kitchen garbage bin.)
If roses are red, he's growing a garden in his bathroom, dripping slowly onto the counter.
(He had never been good with plants. "Red thumb," his mom had called him. If only she could see him now.)
Riz Gukgak is a ball, and balls can only follow gravity.
(He sinks to the floor, glass digging through his jeans and biting into his knees.)
Maybe if he stays here forever, eternity will remember his name.
(What was his name again? Oh, right. Fingerprints on glass, the taste of ocean and mud. That's his name.)
A rose by any other name smells just as sweet, but all he can smell is the blood on his hands and the sharp sting of disappointment.
(It gathers in the back of his throat, bitter and grainy like the mud that tastes like home. He tries to swallow, but it grips his throat and holds him still.)
Riz Gukgak is someone, but he's not sure who.
(The name feels familiar on his tongue, but the blood is too slippery and the glass too sharp and the mud too thick. Names only matter to people who can keep them.)
He laughs, and it feels like home, just for a minute.
(Of course the mirror would shatter. Of course god is right here, reflected in the glass shards on the bathroom counter and the blood on the floor and the mud in his chest. He's known this all along. Hasn't he?)
He takes a deep breath in, dusty lungs creaking with strain. The air is heavy with all of the things he will never be able to say.
(All he tastes now is blood, and the certainty that something lies beyond the glass that taunts him. If only his fists would stop bleeding.)
Riz Gukgak is looking in a mirror, and he has been the mirror all along, and he will escape if it’s the last thing he does.
(Layer by layer, shard by shard, he will deconstruct the home he has built. Comfort is stagnation, and he has always hated being held in place.)
He decides to let his fists do the looking for him. He is so tired of the smell of blood.
(Slamming down, again and again and again until he knows his knuckles will never heal. He can’t tell who he wants to punish more, the glass or himself. Maybe they’ve been the same all along.)
Riz Gukgak is not looking in a mirror.
(He is home.)
(Based on O&T by @gilears because I still can't stop thinking about it)
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Imagine if you will, a small 6 yeah old Will with clumsy hands and messy hair. Hes thriving, going to kindergarden, having friends and getting to have a normal childhood. Hes falling scraping his knees in the gardens, and theres his dad, Halt, to kiss his knees better and gently aply a hello kitty bandaid to the wound, while Will giggles through his tears at something Halt said.
Gilan carrying him on his shoulders, letting Will grab the first apples of the season, and then tumbling into a heap of leaves, and then they just lay there laughing and eating their spoils of war. Them getting called in to wash up before dinner, standing before Halt dirty and wet. Gilan and Will just showing together, Gilan getting the stray leaves and twigs out of his little brothers hair.
A timid Will handing his dad a creased piece of paper. The vague shape of their little family (and abelard of course) drawn messily in various colours of crayon. Halt just haning it on their fridge, its already filled with Gilans old drawings, as well as a couple of abstract pieces of Wills
Idk man just imagine tiny will getting to spend his childhood year with people who truely care and love for him, and just getting to mess up and exist. This is obviously modern au, might make a canon universe version at some point
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fwuffypwincess · 2 years
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୨୧ ₊˚. ݁ `` Types of babies! ◝꒰ ´ ˘ ` part. 1
꒰ Happi artsie baby 📒🖍
Draws on walls, coloring books, their drawings deserve a place on the fridge!, finger painting, comfy big hoodies, creative ideas, excited to show their arts, crayons and markers, colorful art supplies, smiles with paci, sandwiches with faces or dino nuggets, fun craft time!, chalkboard, colored pencils, packaging lunch in a colorful lunchbox.
꒰ Soft sleepy baby ⭐️🛌
Sleepy most of the time, nap times are the best, likes a lot bedtime stories, lullabies, comfy around their blankies, pajamas party with stuffies, quiet and cute, likes soft things, cute pajamas, baby bottles, calm and friendly, care about animals, likes watching the stars, favorite colors might be tons of blue, prefer calm or quiet kid shows.
꒰ Cuddly bubbly baby 🌸🍭
Outgoing and adorable, giggles at everything, ball of sunshine, tea party with stuffies, loves giving their special person cuddles, very friendly and caring, enjoys playing hide and seek, playground!, sweets, watching cartoons, big smiles, glitters and stickers, bubbles, plays on the backyard, birthdays and cake!, *puppy eyes* when they want something.
꒰ Curious goblin baby 🍄🐛
Loves playing outside, seeks adventures, curious about small animals, talks with plants, imaging how would it be being an insect, loves nature, overalls, likes to doodle small animals, might know a few facts about many insects, mushroom, fairies, green and earth tons, cookies, likes snack times, froggies!, juice box, running around, labybugs and butterflies, likes to collect rocks, always with bandaids because of their adventures, likes to climb trees.
꒰ Tiny royal baby 🎀🫖
Castle toys and royalty dolls, doesn’t like following rules because they make their own rules!, play pretending with other babies or stuffies, shiny crows or tiaras, royal banquets (snacks)!, very protective with their friends and stuffies, royal clothes, can be bratty sometimes but they’re very playful and loving, jumps on their bed.
꒰ Sweet shy baby 🍼🧸
Very kind and soft, yet sensitive and quiet, sippy cups and paci, carries around with them their favorite stuffies, teethes, soft foods, crawls, plays quietly with toys but with an adorable smile, may hide behind their special person, fluffy socks, pastel colors, alphabet blocks, doesn’t like loud environments or noises, little angel, clouds, cotton candy, likes to read, activity books, sanrio characters, picnic with stuffies and their special person.
By @fwuffypwincess on Tumblr ꒰ᐢ ´ ˘` ᐢ꒱. Which baby are you?
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grumpybabybat · 5 months
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The Batman/Bruce Wayne (2022) regressor headcanons/sorta scenarios with CG!Alfred cause, yeah.
(Also these are MY personal thoughts and honestly probably projecting, so if you don’t agree with them or think otherwise, thats fine)
The biggest brat, oh my god, Alfred would be so stressed over him, constant “Bruce, please do not put that in your mouth” | “Bruce no, don’t play with the Batarang it’s sharp!”
Fussiest baby ever, never wanting to eat anything, refusing bedtime, try and get him in the bath? expect attempted punches. If he decides to let himself play with toys, my gosh he’ll never wanna put them down.
I don’t know how I personally feel about time outs, but I think bruce would definitely need somewhere to calm down when he gets too upset or overwhelmed.
The rare moments of him being a little teeny without fussing, and Alfred just rocking him and humming lullabies.
Needing Alfred to help him with things but refusing to let him help.
Alfred having noise cancelling headphones, stim toys, and a pacifier on him at all times.
Attached to a very specific blanket and stuffed animal, carrying it around with him all the time, Alfred made the mistake of washing them while Bruce was awake, he had the biggest meltdown, Alfred never did it again.
Alfred is so gentle with Bruce, not matter how upset, fussy, angry, aggressive Bruce is, Alfred is just patient.
Reluctantly being Alfred’s little helper, saying he hates it (he secretly loves it and loves when Alfred tells him he did a good job on folding laundry or watering the plants).
They have plants, a bunch of plants, it started with one but now theres just so many plants.
I think his age ranges would maybe be about 0-7?
Since Bruce hates everyone and everything (/j?) Alfred has a playset set up in the backyard so Bruce can get some outdoor playtime.
I think Alfred has always had a feeling that Bruce regresses, especially after those long nights of patrol and he comes back all fussy and tired and Alfred has to bathe him, i think that Alfred actually did research on regression and then slowly introduced Bruce into it, since Bruce didn’t know what was happening, all he knew is that he felt small and hated it.
Alfred hangs up every. single. drawing on the fridge, every single one, Bruce scribbles all over the page with crayons, Alfred is praising him and sticking it up on the fridge.
Probably a huge crybaby but hates crying in front of people (Alfred is the only exception) all the ouchies and boo-boos have him in tears, with Alfred giving him kisses and little bandaids with bats on them.
Definitely whines, like all the time, over everything.
Hates to go shopping but Alfred doesn’t trust him being home alone, having to hold Alfred’s hand to cross the street and even while in the store, Alfred took his eyes off of Bruce one time for a second, and Bruce was halfway across the store and swarmed by people. (Bruce now wears a face mask and a little hoodie when they go out to hide his face)
Will put anything and everything in his mouth, Alfred has grabbed chewed up TV remotes from him before.
Follows Alfred around everywhere, Alfred pointed it out once and Bruce got so flustered and upset, saying he doesn’t, but he absolutely does. He loves being close to Alfred, feeling safe around him.
Probably chews his fingers and nails when upset, or scratches himself, Alfred tried to put lotion on him and mittens so he’d stop, but he refused it completely.
Nightmares, all the time. Alfred has woken up to screaming, crying, and a scared baby Bruce crawling into his bed. Long nights of rocking and bottles, with Disney movies (Bruce “hates” Disney but will willingly sit down and watch Frozen).
Chasing, Alfred has had to chase Bruce down so many times when he’s grabbed something that he absolutely should not have, or running from something like bathtime, Alfred has considered wearing tennis shoes from how much he has to chase after Bruce.
So fussy over naps but absolutely needs to take naps or he throws more tantrums than average.
Loves to play with and make things with Playdoh, tries to eat the Playdoh.
Calls Alfred ‘Papa, Dada, Baba, Alfred, Meanie, Alfred the Butt-ler/ref’
(Stopping here because I’ve written down way too much)
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