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#i haven't felt this level of exhaustion in a very long time
doux-amer · 4 months
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I can't believe I had such a massive headache and my eyes felt swollen all day because of the amount of crying I did this morning through the post-match farewell ceremony. I had to stay offline because everything would set me off, and like a fool, I just went on Instagram, thinking I'd be okay because I watched everything and for the new stuff, I could scroll past them and see them another day. But of course I cried again. The only way I'm getting through this week is because I have an overwhelming amount of work that's going to increase once the work week actually starts.
#i helped my dad plant some veggies and then went for a walk#and felt better and worse afterwards#i haven't felt this level of exhaustion in a very long time#my heart felt heavy and broken all day#and this isn't even me being dramatic lmao. i feel physically wrecked :|#can't watch any of the interviews. can't watch his interviews#i hate ig but god am i happy that he made an ig because i'm not ready to let him go#today cemented it for me that this was the right time for him to leave#last season would've been too early and maybe he could have done a season or two more but i understand#and i AM optimistic and excited for the future. it's like he said change can be a good thing especially if you embrace it#and it'll feel like a fresh start with so many staff and some players leaving#but at the same time i'm not fine whatsoever and this is going to hurt for a long long time#jürgen can you please come back to us? i can't handle this#i just love him dearly. we love him so much#we went from being a miserable bunch to watch to slowly believing#and then believing consistently and unless you were there for that change you don't understand#what that evolution was like. the wonder we felt. i will never ever forget it#and beyond the achievements...it's who he is that makes him special. take away everything and we'd love him anyway#as someone said he's a great manager and even better man and that's saying something because he's very very good#he's one of the best#i'm not as young as trent but jürgen was there as i became a REAL adult#he means the world to me and he means more than i can put into words and more than he'll ever know
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nicksbestie · 6 months
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Hi! Could I ask for a request of Chris with a girlfriend who’s a little? And she finally starts slipping around him? Thanks 💜
Comfortable - C. Sturniolo
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Summary : Your boyfriend may know your most personal coping mechanism, but you haven't used it around him, until today.
Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
Warnings : none!!!
Word Count : 1094
A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.
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Your boyfriend knew so much about you. He arguably knew more about you than your parents did. He knew you on a much deeper, more personal, level, as he was the person that you could go to when you needed to talk about anything and everything. With that being said, he knew one of your most personal secrets, that you used regression as a coping mechanism to relax and heal from the amount of things that you had been through as a young child and teenager, and when you had told him, he had been incredibly supportive, albeit not knowing very much about it. 
He had been open minded, asking questions while being careful to not be rude, even unintentionally, and you could tell that he genuinely just wanted to understand. He never made you feel bad, weird, gross, or anything negative about how you chose to cope, and because of the fact that he knew just how much you had been through, he understood your choice of this mechanism because after learning about it, he could see that it was incredibly beneficial for you. There was a lot of talking about it, making sure that Chris truly understood what you were telling him, making sure that there was absolutely no room for confusion in what he was expecting. 
It was so cute when you would go onto Chris’ phone for random reasons, taking photos, or googling something, and seeing lots of age regression related things in his search history and in his saved Pinterest boards. You could nearly feel your heart warm at the fact that you had found such a supportive partner, who accepted you for exactly who you were, and was clearly very open about it and wasn’t just supporting you because he felt like he had to. He often sent you pictures of cute stuffed animals and blankets, and he even got a package delivered to the house that, when opened, contained small toys with your name printed on them, along with some bottles and pacifiers with some pet names in deco beading on them. 
You had cried when you had opened it, and he had immediately rushed into the room, a soft smile appearing on his face when he saw why you were crying. He had wrapped his arms around you, gently comforting you, whispering gentle nothings, pressing kisses to the top of your head and reminding you that he loved you, and that included everything about you. He had helped you put those things into your box of little things, and he had held you until you stopped crying. What he had noticed recently, was that you hadn’t slipped at all around him. However, he brushed it off, knowing that your regression was an incredibly vulnerable thing for you, and he never wanted to damage that in any way. When you decided to regress around him was completely up to you, but he would be here to care for you if and when you did. 
A couple more weeks went by, and Chris never pushed it. You both were curled up together after a long night and day, Chris had been filming a lot, and you had gone through a tough shift at work, so you were both just happy to be in each other’s company, enjoying the quality time with each other despite how exhausted you were. Being excessively tired was normally a trigger for your headspace, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were fighting it right now. You were definitely still holding a little bit of anxiety about it, because despite the fact that Chris had seemed to be so open minded when you had told him, you couldn’t know for sure that he would be okay with it after you actually regressed around him. 
You’d talked about your triggers with Chris before, and he knew that exhaustion was one of them, so unbeknownst to you, he was watching you like a hawk to see if you did begin to slip around him, and he was being so excessively gentle just in case. He had a feeling that you had a habit of not giving in to slipping sometimes, just because of the lack of you regressing around him. He wasn’t judging, but he had done an excessive amount of research, and he had found that littles who have anxiety when they’re big can often unintentionally carry that feeling over to their headspace, and when they’re smaller, it feels a lot worse. So he knew that he would need to be soft and encouraging, and when he noticed you cuddle closer into his side, he just had a feeling.
He’d never been a caregiver before, but he couldn’t deny that there was some type of feeling when he thought about the fact that you trusted him so much that he could see the most vulnerable part of you and still love you immensely. You felt so incredibly lucky to have him, and he knew that he was so lucky to have you as well. When he wrapped his arms around you, he began rubbing your back, being as gentle as possible, running his other hand through your hair and gently kissing your forehead. He whispered sweet nothings to you, sentences filled with love confessions and pet names, making sure that you felt safe in his arms.  
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I know. You can slip, baby, I’ve got you.” 
You had always been quite an emotional little, and when he whispered those specific words to you, you couldn’t stop the tears that immediately filled in your eyes. He gently wiped them away, keeping you close to him, knowing that you found a lot of comfort in being within close contact of people. You were so exhausted that when you eventually did give in to your headspace, you didn’t have the energy to speak much. However, Chris could tell through your mannerisms that you had allowed yourself to slip, and he immediately placed your favorite stuffie in your arms, a Build-A-Bear kitty that had a recording of his voice inside the heart. When you grabbed his shirt in your hand, tightening it in your fist just like a baby would, he couldn’t ignore the way that his heart swelled. 
After spending the rest of the night comforting and loving on you, making sure you were comfortable, safe, happy, and had everything you needed, he looked down on you while you were peacefully sleeping, and knew this was exactly where he was supposed to be in life.
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poppadom0912 · 2 years
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Money, Money, Money
Characters: Connor Rhodes x Reader, Maggie, Will
Warnings: Canon-typical injuries, overbearing/toxic parents, lots of violence, pregnancy.
Summary: Having money doesn't entitle you to anything. Why don't your parents understand that?
A/N: Haven't written for Connor in a lonnnggg time so here I am. I have mixed feelings about this but enjoyyyy. Posting this today in commemoration of my twin cousins turning one.
*****
Today was just so jam-packed in the ED that it was ridiculous.
One minute, your treating a woman whose half conscious from a car accident and the next your being handed a John Doe who is better off dead than hooked to a bunch of expensive machines.
You were always on your feet, not even having a second to yourself to sit down on a chair at the nurses station. It also really didn't help that Med had been handed a fresh new bunch of students who were all around the place, not knowing what they were doing.
Ripping off your gloves you deeply exhaled, closing your eyes as you stood in the middle of the ED. Everything around you was still a mess but all you needed was two minutes to collect yourself before-
"Doctor Rhodes, Doctor Y/L/N, you're on!" Maggie shouted from across the emergency room, sending you her most apologetic smile while she shrugged, having no control over what happened which you knew and definitely didn't blame her for.
Hastily grabbing what felt like your millionth pair of latex gloves, you assisted the paramedics and Connor wheeling the stretcher into a treatment bay, transferring on his count.
Everything was as it usually was, working together to stabilise the patient who was only half alert. From a mile away, you could smell the stench of alcohol, letting everyone know of what led the man to his current situation. Rolling your eyes, you stepped away from the gurney, allowing a few nurses and orderlies wheel the now unconscious man for an mri.
Aggressively, you ripped of your gloves, chucking it into the bin, Connor following suit, chuckling at your sour face. The only good thing you had going for you right now was having a five minute lie in with your fiance early this morning. Five minutes wasn't long at all but it was all you and peanut needed to fuel you for the long 24-hour shift ahead of you.
Right, you still had another 18 hours left till you could go home. Just flipping perfect.
You felt like collapsing, your body exhausted but the sickly people of Chicago relied on you. With a quick departing kiss on the forehead, squeezing your hand several times, you watched with warmness in your chest as your very attractive man ran off in those very nice black scrubs.
*****
It was an honest to god miracle that everything slowed down. You finally got to sit down, even managing to have a quick snack before checking in on patients. There was also the regular conversation over your baby, all the doctors and nurses betting on the gender while your closest friends pretended they weren't up for potential godparents.
You decided to do a quick round, going around to see if your patients were up and moving, if not then you'd offer your service somewhere it was needed.
At some point during the day, you lost track of how many people came in meaning you forgot who had what and who they were. With a tablet in hand, you scrolled through the man's chart, humming to yourself as you familiarised yourself with both his medical history and his current state, remembering what happened when you saw his blood alcohol levels.
What you failed to notice, too busy reading, was the man who you now know was called Nick was slowly coming to. Not a peep came out of him, blinking as he looked around the room, you being the last thing he noticed.
It all happened so fast from what you could recollect. All of a sudden, he sat up, not even groaning in pain from the several injuries he sustained while drunk and high.
"Nick, I'm a doctor, your in a hospital. No one's going to hurt you." You tried assuring him, jumping back when he lurched forward, forcing himself to stand, his unstable legs holding all of his weight. "You hurt yourself okay? You mind getting back into the bed?"
Despite your gentle and understanding tone, your bedside manner being top notch, Nick didn't even consider listening to you. You could almost see the flaming red flash across his eyes but before you could do anything, he came towards you.
With such a fury, his hand gripped your neck tightly, pushing you against the medicine cupboard that only this room had. Repeatedly, he pushed you into the glass door which shattered upon impact.
Gasping, you tried kicking your feet out but unfortunately for you, your short stature was not helping you were held inches above the ground. Scratching at his hand, your nails digging into his skin, he wouldn't let go.
You were incoherent, not even managing to shout or scream from the extreme pressure against your throat. Inhaling through your nose, you screwed your eyes shut when you saw a blurry fist flying towards you.
Everything was happening so fast but all of a sudden, you could breathe, air entering your lungs like a tsunami but before you could recollect yourself, not even letting your brain register that you were dropped to the floor, you were once again picked up and smashed against the sliding glass doors.
The glass broke on impact, shattering into small shards almost like crystals. Your cries were broken, the punches rolling one after the other.
*****
After having a quick surgery consult, assuring a patient that this surgery would happen, Connor was content. It was finally his lunch and he wasn't needed anywhere which meant that he could see his beautiful fiancée. Hopefully, you could spare a few minutes and he could check up on you and his baby.
The ED was much more quiet, almost too quiet in comparison to the chaos it was drowning in over an hour ago. Whistling, he leaned his arms against the nurses desk, giving Maggie his most dashing smile that all the girls of Chicago swooned over.
"Your fiancée is in six, give her five minutes." She said without taking her eyes off her brick, knowing exactly what the surgeon wanted without him even having to ask.
Before Connor could thank the charge nurse, he was interrupted by the deafening sound of glass shattering, his head whipping around to the source of the sound.
It was when it flashed in his mind that the room with the now shattered door was treatment six that Connor ran towards the mess.
Will and Ethan also came running forward, the two of them pulling Nick away from you while Connor shielded you as best as he could from any further harm.
"Y/N? Honey, you with me?" Connor asked, taking note of your fluttering eyelids and your cracking groan. He held you in his arms, feeling around the back of your head, his fingers coated in your blood.
Lifting you onto a gurney without any help, you were wheeled into a separate treatment room, Connor not once leaving your side and no one tried to pry him away knowing that it would only further anger him.
"Connor?" You tried calling out, struggling to keep your eyes open. "The baby..."
"Is fine, wasn't hurt at all." Connor sighed in relief, handing back the ultrasound wand to a nurse once he was happy with the sight of your baby who was alive and kicking.
Will nodded at Connor, letting him know everything that he needed. Picking up the railing on the side of the gurney, Connor wasn't leaving your side, wheeling wheel you up for an mri.
"You're going to be just fine."
*****
Coming to was more painful than you wanted it to be but because of the growing life inside your womb, you could only take so much medication which you knew and understood but you couldn't help curse out whoever was up there watching everything.
"The baby?" Was the first thing that came out. Your voice was hoarse, your throat aching as it strained from each syllable.
"Is alive and kicking." Connor nodded with a tight-lipped smile, helping you drink some water. "The lack of oxygen only hurt you, not peanut."
"Good, that's good." You closed your eyes, nodding in relief that no harm came to your baby because you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if they were hurt.
"You scared me." Connor whispered, enveloping your hand in both of his, not bothered by how cold you felt. "Don't ever do that again."
"I can't make any promises." You replied with remorse, wanting nothing more than to promise him but medicine was unpredictable, especially when mixed with drugs and alcohol. "I'll try my best though."
"And that's all I ask for." Connor smiled, pressing several kisses on your knuckles.
"Uh, you've got a few visitors anxiously waiting for you outside, what do you want me to do with them?" Your fiance asked, chuckling as he remembered the gaggle of doctors waiting outside in anticipation. They were all pretending to work but found themselves staring at the treatment room you were in.
But before you could answer with a yes, wanting nothing more than to see your friends, you cut off by the loud shout coming from outside the room, at the entrance of the ED. Unfortunately for you, you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.
"Where is my daughter?!" The voice near screamed, oozing with so much urgency that it made you feel sick. It was all so fake that even a stranger could see it.
You could only hear just how much of a commotion was being created outside your room, you and Connor shared a knowing glance, both of your mirroring the others annoyance.
Maggie's desperate attempts of steering the newcomers away from your room was useless. The doors and curtains were pulled opened and you were met with the apologetic faces of your friends and the furious faces of your parents.
"Oh my God, what happened to your face?!" Your mother said in alarm, rushing to your bedside as fast as she could in heels, her slim fingers gripping your chin to inspect all the visible damage to your face.
"Ow! Ma, that hurts!" You winced, pushing her hands away from your face, not wanting her to touch you anymore. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."
Your mother huffed, her dull eyes looking over at Connor, rolling her eyes at him before looking back over at you. "Where's your supervisor? You getting hurt isn't enough for your boss to come check on you?"
Before anyone could retort back, more than prepared to defend your boss, you were all stopped by a new presence that wasn't there before standing in the door.
"I'm glad that you could make it Mr and Mrs Y/L/N. I was worried you wouldn't make it taking into account your busy schedules." Ms Goodwin said, the sass dripping off her words, her smile welcoming but also smug. "If you could come with me to my office and we could talk specifics if you'd like?"
"I'd be perfect to do it right here actually." Your mother said, puffing out her chest with confidence she always had surrounding her. "You'll find our lawyers at your doorstep tomorrow morning with a lawsuit."
"What?!" You exclaimed, sitting up straight, ignoring your bruised and battered body screaming for you to stop moving. Despite all the pain, you were ready to throttle your parents.
As gently as he could, Connor pushed you back down without further causing your any pain. Ignoring your rolling eyes and your pout, he was relentless and succeeded in his doings. After doing so, he stood and glared at your parents.
"You mind if we talk outside, just the four of us?" Connor asked but it wasn't so much a question than it was a demand. Without waiting for a reply, your fiance held the door open for your parents and Ms Goodwin, sending the couple a tight lipped smile when they passed him.
“You have no right to be here.” Connor got straight to the point, not wanting to mess around when it came to you. Your parents were spoiled and entitled, thinking they could do whatever they wanted to whoever just because they had more money.
You’d long distanced yourself from them, no longer wasting your time wanting their approval and constant validation for every little thing you did. After years, you were free of their shackles but they always found a way to crawl back in.
This was one way they planned to become part of your life again.
“You will walk out of here, you will get rid of the press that I’m sure is waiting outside and you’re never going to show your faces here again because if you do, I’m not going to be as cordial.” Connor warned your parents, towering over your mother even with the heels she wore.
Your mother tutted, slowly shaking her head in disappointment. She was fully aware of the audience they had, all consisting of your true family and you boss standing to the side but some Rhodes man wasn’t going to get in the way of her achieving her goal.
“You are in no position to tell me what I can and can’t do. That’s my daughter, I gave birth to her.” Your mother fought back, not afraid to get into Connors face.
“Mrs Y/L/N, step away from my doctor.” Ms Goodwin said with authority, gently pushing Connor back. “Your not welcome in my hospital if your going to treat my doctors which such disrespect.”
Your mother scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief about they way she was being treated with such hostility. Something was clearly wrong here with how people took orders and did what they pleased.
“Now if you please leave, it’d be greatly appreciated.” Miss Goodwin said with finality, a smug smile on her lips when she realised she was getting her way.
Huffing, your mother burned holes into Connor, openly glaring at him, not hiding that she hated him. Scanning the room, her glare remained strong as her eyes landed on each doctor and nurse.
Giving Connor one last look from over her shoulder, you mother stormed out the ED, your father trailing behind her like the lost puppy he practically was at this point.
Everyone could breath easier, the air feeling lighter and less contaminated the second your parents left the ED. It was the biggest relief.
“Doctor Rhodes, please get back to your fiancée.” Miss Goodwin turned to the surgeon, giving him a very simple order that he wouldn’t object to.
Connor silently thanked his boss, smiling at her before coming back into your treatment room where you still sat, patiently waiting for your fiancé to come back.
“Do I even want to know what happened?” You asked, a small smile resting in your lips as you urged Connor to come forward and give you a hug.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about baby. Everything’s been dealt with.”
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mariemarion · 5 months
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hey, long time no been here. I'm sleepy, but I have something to say
I will abuse google translator a little cause I originally wrote all this in spanish :p
I haven't had energy the last few months. I am currently in a not very good state of mind so I will allow myself to be somewhat negative below.
I have lost interest in continuing with art, or at least the motivation is at the lowest level it has ever been, my only real reason for continuing is because it feeds my family, my pets and me, its reason enough to keep going , I fervently believe. But this doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm not going anywhere, that I'm stuck. Drawing has never been so exhausting, so tiring. I loved it, it may not be a permanent feeling, but currently I do not feel love for my drawings, for my current style, although I like it I feel that it is not mine, that it is not me, that I am not being sincere.
My dream is to reach that level of skill, like the meme, a rookie artist drawing something super rendered and complex and the senior artist drawing the most simplified style possible, I want to be that senior artist x'D.
How socials are treating and overshadowing artists lately also has a lot to add here, to hell with the numbers, I'm not interested in them, I'm not interested in the algorithm, I don't quite understand what it's about, I don't want to be tied down all the time , I want to come and go freely, that's all, I don't enjoy loggin into networks as i used to be.
Sometimes I would like to go back in time, when I felt free to create, when I was looking for to experiment and had fun. Today just thinking about holding a pencil makes me want to run away to the comfort of my bed or go play with my cats or to want to climb a mount and never coming back. And not to mention the damage I have done to my eyes and my hands, sometimes I can't do anything but overdo everything, and therefore hurting me, I foolishly force myself to accomplish deadlines that I have imposed on myself and that I am aware of its a short time.
I'm in a situation where I can't stop drawing, it's my job, I can't simply take a rest. I practically survive with what I earn (which lately is little), prices for many essentials are going up to the stratosphere and beyond (the price for cat food is so ridiculously expensive that I have started opting for homemade food) I have not been able to save anything, if I stop drawing and taking commissions, I don't know what else I could do, looking for alternatives is also tiring. I just want to sleep.
Apathy, that is my current state.
Fatigue.
Drowsiness.
A bottomless abyss, although when I say it out loud it makes me laugh x'D
Going to therapy has crossed my mind, I know there are issues to resolve, but thinking about the absence of money and next month's expenses somehow overlap everything else.
I think there were more things to add, but I can't think anymore.
I will not abandon art, it is clear to me, but if these last few months have been slow (in terms of making art), they will be even more so in the future, so you better do not miss me too much, you have been warned x'D
ty for reading
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17snifflesandsnzes · 29 days
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Can you please do Taesan from Boynextdoor? Like he has a really bad cold but try’s to hide the fact he’s sick. All Boynextdoor has to make a collective effort to get him to rest.
Hi! Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this! Also, I'm back to posting fics now! YAY! I've been really busy with work lately but I have a lot more time now to actually post. So you can look forward to more updates from me now! Enough on that now, I hope you enjoy the fic~
You Can Trust Us, Alright?
Dongmin was pulled out of his “producing daze” when his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the studio. Dongmin sighed softly before reaching over and checking his phone. It was Jaehyun. 
“Dongmin-ah, why aren't you back yet? You can continue with your songwriting tomorrow, just come back to the dorms.” Dongmin sighed again as this was exactly why he was feeling reluctant to pick up Jaehyun's call. “Hyung, I haven't finished what I wanted to do for today. I'll be back in a while, don't worry about me.” Jaehyun let out a whine on the other side of the line and Dongmin had to hold back a smile. “Dongmin-ah, we miss you! Just come back already!” Dongmin sighed but knew it would be useless to argue with his leader. “Alright, hyung. I'm coming back.” Jaehyun didn't say anything after that but Dongmin knew he would have a huge smile on his face. As he packed up for the day, he felt a twinge of guilt for not finishing what he came to do in the first place. As BoyNextDoor's first full album was right around the corner, Dongmin's stress levels were at an all time high. And even though Dongmin prided himself in being a very calm person, the pressure of giving OneDoors their best was a lot, even for him. At times like this though, he was very grateful to his members who made sure to check up on him whenever he had his “stressful phases”. 
When Dongmin finally made his way back to the dorm, he found all the members in the living room on the lower floor of their dorm. Sungho gave him a stern look as soon as he took a seat on the couch and buried his head in his hands. “Min-ah, do you know how long you've been cooped up in your studio? You need to rest too, you know. You can't expect yourself to work all the time and not have any repercussions.” Dongmin groaned before meeting his hyung’s eyes. “Got it, hyung. I'll be careful next time. But now that we're done here, can I go to bed? I'm exhausted.” All of the members laughed at that and Donghyun patted his back. “Sure, Min-ah. Good night!” Dongmin nodded tiredly at him before dragging himself to his room and all but collapsing on his bed.
When Dongmin woke up the next day, he immediately knew he was screwed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his eyes felt watery and irritated. And that's not even the worst part. His throat felt scratchy and he couldn't breathe through his nose at all. To make things even worse, there was a sharp tickle in the back of his sinuses. Dongmin groaned as he sat up in his bed and looked around. It looked like Woonhak had already woken up and that meant that he was really late. Dongmin quickly got ready for whatever schedule he had that day and walked out of his room. As soon as he walked out of his room, he was handed a cup of tea by Sanghyeok. He took it gratefully and as soon as he took a sip, he sighed deeply, the warm tea doing wonders for his irritated throat. “You okay, Dongmin hyung?” Woonhak asked him as they all took a seat at the table. Even though Dongmin felt bad about lying to the maknae, he didn't want him or any of the members to worry. So of course he lied. “I'm fine, Woonhak-ah. Just tired.” He said after a pause and Woonhak probably took the bait but Sanghyeok gave him a disbelieving look. But thankfully, he didn't say anything else. 
The members soon finished eating breakfast and met up to go to their company in their shared van. Dongmin took a seat at the back next to Jaehyun. Jaehyun gave him a look as he entered the van but when he met Dongmin's eyes, he didn't say anything. The van ride to the company was mostly silent at the back because all the loud members (minus Jaehyun) were at the front. Jaehyun seemed to be staying quiet because of Dongmin's headache and he felt a twinge of guilt for not being able to successfully hide his cold from the members. When the van crossed a tunnel and drove into the bright sunlight, Dongmin swore silently. The bright light did nothing for the tickle at the back of his sinuses, instead making it worse. Knowing he needed to sneeze, Dongmin cupped both his hands in front of his face as he gasped softly. “hh'HNgT-Chuh!-” Dongmin sniffled wetly after the sneeze, rubbing at his nose harshly. Jaehyun gave him a concerned look. “Bless you, Min-ah. You okay?” Dongmin nodded immediately. “I'm okay, hyung. You don't need to worry.” Jaehyun (like Sanghyeok earlier) didn't look convinced but he didn't say anything else. 
Soon enough, their van was parking into their company garage. As all the members poured out of the van, Dongmin internally dreaded the day ahead. Today was supposed to be the day when Jaehyun, Woonhak and Dongmin go through what songs each of them had written to finalize a tracklist to then send to the company. It was a day that was much anticipated by all of them. The minor inconvenience was that Dongmin's cold was getting worse by the second. After his first sneeze, it was getting increasingly difficult not to sneeze again. And he knew the members were worried already so he didn't want to worry them more. This was his problem and he's gonna be the one to deal with it.
“Okay, so who wants to go first?” Jaehyun asked Woonhak and Dongmin. Woonhak gave Dongmin a quick look before saying that he would start first. Dongmin gave Woonhak a grateful look. While Jaehyun was busy with Woonhak, Dongmin tried to control the irritating tickle in his sinuses. He tried blowing his nose with some tissues he found in the studio but that just made the tickle worse. Knowing he'd have to sneeze soon, Dongmin grabbed another tissue and holds it to his sinuses, taking in a shuddering breath. “hh'Ikt-ChuhH!- hh'ItkShuhH!-” Dongmin sniffled wetly after the sneezes, blinking the irritated tears out of his eyes. Jaehyun and Woonhak both stop what they were doing and turn to him. “Are you sure you're okay, Min-ah? Because that really doesn't look okay to me.” Jaehyun said and Woonhak nodded immediately at his hyung’s words. Dongmin rolled his eyes before glaring at Jaehyun. “I think I can tell whether I'm okay or not, hyung. I said I'm fine because I am fine! End of discussion.” Jaehyun sighed deeply but knowing Dongmin for as long as he did, he knew that arguing with him was point-blank useless. Dongmin was one of the most stubborn members when it came to things like this. 
The rest of their meeting passed by in a blur with Dongmin just trying his best to keep his cold under control. Of course, Jaehyun and Woonhak still noticed but they didn't say anything, knowing how irritated Dongmin got last time. Instead, what Jaehyun did was send a message to Sungho who was in the practice room with the rest of the members. He told the oldest member to bring all the others to the studio so that they all could try to get Dongmin to rest. And of course, Sungho agreed immediately. Turning to the members in front of him, Jaehyun cleared his throat. “Guys, what if we bring all the other members to the studio and ask them to listen to our songs. Maybe they have some good ideas!” Woonhak and Dongmin looked at each other and nodded. While Dongmin got back to work, Woonhak gave Jaehyun a look. “You're doing this because you want all the hyungs to tell Dongmin hyung to rest, right?” Jaehyun smiled at Woonhak. “Always so smart, my Woonagie. And yeah, that's what I want to do. Hopefully it works.” Soon enough, all the other members of BoyNextDoor were piling into the studio
Jaehyun quickly met Sungho's eyes when he entered the room and the other seemed to catch on immediately. Woonhak played the songs for the other members but no one was paying attention to the music at the moment, anyway. Dongmin had turned away from everyone and cupped his hands over his nose and mouth, breath hitching desperately. “hh'NgT-ChihH!- hh'IktShuHh!- Hh…hh'Ikt-ChihHh!-” He sniffled wetly and turned back to the others only for them to be looking at him already. Dongmin rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where the conversation was going to go now. “Don't you think you should admit you're sick now?” Donghyun asked him and Sanghyeok nodded at his words. “Dongmin-ah, we've all caught on, okay? There's no point in hiding now.” Dongmin just shook his head and turned away from the others. “If I didn't hide that I was sick, you wouldn't have let me work! Do you know how close the comeback is? Do you know how much it means to me?!” Jaehyun reached out and gently made Dongmin face him. “Taking a break for a few days isn't gonna affect the comeback, Min-ah. We have 6 members, you know? We should rely on them sometimes. Woonhak and I will manage the songwriting till you come back, I promise.” Dongmin looked conflicted, like he didn't know whether he should admit defeat or not. But eventually he sighed and nodded his head at Jaehyun. “Fine, hyung. I am sick. I've had this cold since this morning and it's annoying the hell out of me.” Sungho laughed at that. “Let's get you home, Min-ah. You can trust us to manage just as fine without you, right?” Dongmin turned to Sungho and smiled brightly, making the others smile as well. “Yes, hyung. I trust you.”
I hope you liked this!
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firespirited · 3 months
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Saw the emergency doctor, I've got a battery of blood tests this morning, a CT scan of the head as soon as there's a slot available and anti-anxiety meds.
I have no idea if this 30+ day migraine is stress induced from a series of rough emotional events, if it's physical but the main symptom is overwhelming fear... or a bit of both. I actually thought it was a mental breakdown until I realised just how long it's been going on and how physical what I thought were feelings actually are: I was messed up to the point of mistaking waves of nausea for self loathing.
It's felt like unending swimming, getting pulled under and drowning and I only just found a buoy to hold on to Monday. Still haven't fully caught my breath and inspected for injuries.
It's a back of the head/neck headache that radiates into the middle back, jaw and down the arms. My neck moves freely without setting anything off despite being stiff from pain. Eyes and teeth aren't the source. Primary symptoms: waves of extreme exhaustion, nausea, photophobia and anxiety on a near flight or fight level.
OTC painkillers, diclofenac gel and heat haven't made a dent. I haven't dared touch benzos because the psych symptoms of this migraine remind me so strongly of the two times I got diazepam withdrawal. I've been sedating the full-day panic attacks with anti histamines.
I'm hoping for either the anti-anxiety meds to kick in or for them to find some minor brain leakage as the fix is scary but fast.
Regardless of whether it's physical or not, there are serious issues to resolve with my family and within myself. The family stuff might have to wait a long while, everyone is too fragile right now, it's a tinderbox. Getting just a brief view of how I neglected myself and let self-hatred swallow me whole has been very sobering.
Sending you all lots of love 💜💕💜 and here's to getting some answers soon.
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Hi,
(I hope that I didn't send in this ask in the past, I am a little dissociative rn).
TW for self harm mention, panic attacks, dissociation
My therapist wants to work on "my connection to my body". I am pretty cut off from my emotions, body signals etc. For example, in the past I had panic attacks "out of nothing and for no reason" and sometimes in hindsight I could say "Well, that could've been expected". So she gave me some papers on which I hourly should note my "stress level" as a kind of first step. I think I saw these papers in the past on friends who had BPD and were supposed to write down their stress and urge to self-harm, but in my case it is rather a chart that ends in "panic attack" or "dissociation", I don't self harm.
And I have to be perfectly honest, I have barely felt that overwhelmed by anything in the past weeks. Even if I think about it, my mind races. I hope it is fine if I write my thoughts down and maybe you could give me some ideas and comments about them? My therapist is on vacation the next 4 weeks and I really regret having agreed on that...
For some reason I need super much clareficiation on this thing and so many details to understand it, I honestly don't know what my problem is.
My therapist said "You should strive for something between 30%-50% stress level, that's the growth area" but tbh 1. I never feel like I am growing, 2. All the time 30%? Or X hours a day? 3. If I use my one dopamine to panic clean my kitchen in 5 hours, that might be 50% stress level but certainly no growth. 4. I never feel like 30-50%? In my mind I use as an example "I lay in bed and read a good non-fiction book, which sadly isn't written for a non-academic, so I have to google a lot of stuff" (which is very specific and I haven't yet finished that book). I hope this is even a good example. But this doesn't really feel like "medium stress". It feels like "No stress, while reading the paragraphs I understand" and "Much stress when googeling stuff". Like a wave. 5. Who says you always need to be in a medium-stress area? Forever? Or during your young and growing years? Is my dream of a farm far away from human civilication so wrong, from a therapists viewpoint?
So far (and I have overthought this nearly every second the last week) I have made this list (please tell me if you think it is right):
10% - Almost falling asleep (that's what my therapist said); 20% - reading a fiction book or maybe crocheting while watching a movie; 30%-50% - ???? ; 60% - (the first number above the "growth zone") curling up in bed crying, 70%- panic attack/ or mild dissociation; 80% - aggressive "????" (aka overwhelmed and everything at once); 90% - bad dissociation, 100% severe dissociation, non-verbal, potentially with amnesia.
Is that ok? Idk I think it is maybe to much to already start with "crying" just after the "good growth zone" but, as an example: I visited my therapist, which means I had to take the train, it takes a long time and I come hope so exhausted that I fall asleep immediately. I can rationally maybe say, that's growth. But it only takes one delayed train, or tripping over my own feet, one too loud and rowdy passenger on the train, or something else so small, and I won't fall asleep immediately but break out in tears immediately.
Which brings me back to "I don't feel growth". In my past I was pushing my limit everyday (my limits in this case being, leave the house and go to university). And it never gotten any easier in 3 years. So idk how growth feels, when to feel growth, am I unable or did I do something wrong etc.?
I thought this chart was too small and limiting, so I made a notebook in which I (tried) to write down what I feel emotionally and in my body, at least three times a day (and try to stick to the percentage thing). Ngl many entries are "too overwhelmed already to open up the bottle of "what do I feel rn"". But I also felt much worse the days I used this notebook. Which can be coincidence, or maybe I lived in peaceful bliss until now, and maybe that's something I am not ready to open up yet? I don't know what the right way is tbh, and I am very afraid of sabotaging the therapy.
Any help, ideas, suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Hi anon,
I can understand how that kind of format can feel much too rigid to categorize your experiences. I've never heard of stress levels being tracked in that way, or that a moderate amount of stress is the only way to grow, although it may be somewhat related to the concept of eustress. But it's absolutely possible to be productive without any stress whatsoever, and the spectrum of stress provided sounds more like a spectrum of mood from positive to negative.
If you feel that this way of looking at your ability to grow is unhelpful, I encourage you to tell your therapist. They should be more than happy to tailor their approach to something that makes more sense to you. It might even be better to try and document what you did immediately before a panic attack to see if there's a pattern and potentially identify a trigger, although some triggers take hours or days before a reaction, especially if you experience dissociation.
If anyone has any other comments or suggestions, please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
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nevergoesout · 4 months
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can't wait to move to the new place and have a tiny fresh start and make everything tidy and organisedddd and just lovely and cosy and show off all our nice things... picked up a beautiful vintage dominoes set in one of those sliding wooden boxes off the side of the road today (i love this city for the leaving free shit outside ur house culture!!). horrible horrible cramps today and forgot my brufen so just had to suffer.. probably for the best for my stomach in the long run i guess.. on and off very sad about dad today, weird how it keeps hitting me/swinging to apathy - weird but mostly exhausting... depressed in general and mostly manifesting in self-hatred which i am struggling to keep control over but i am doing my best .. reading wuthering heights in the sun on my lunch break today, finished a chapter and decided i ought to head back to work and stood up and really felt like i had just woken up from a 30min blackout or something, so disoriented. haven't lost myself in a book like that in so long.. this one is a bit special i do think.. went and sat and played silly games (charades etc) w coworkers after work in the park, again blessedly sunny and very nice vibes , it's very lovely working somewhere everyone my level is a 20something leftist w silly vibes. need to make the most of it and hang out more, and ask people to do things with my one on one (scary !!!!!!! but i am fiending for a museum trip lately..). want to invite people to my birthday on sat but i do not think the two groups would mix well hahahaha. i do love my friends tho, they are chaotic and brilliant and i am feeling more and more real-friends with them lately. things will all be ok, they already are really. watched savannah browns video about being autistic many years late to the party but oh man, timing. and oh man in general. i am on a waiting list........... until then i need to cut myself some slack finally. i dont have to be normal, i never did..
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jimpluff · 6 months
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Godzilla x Kong: First Impressions
Short review: Delicious fast food kaiju
A little bit longer now (avoiding spoilers and just giving overall impressions, so feel free to read even if you haven't seen yet): No, really, this movie's tickets should literally come with a Happy Meal set and one of the blind crystal mini figures. It is a very specific, deceptively expertly crafted junk food pleasure that I sometimes find hard not to love.
I went in expecting a passable but somewhat embarrassing mess. It was a lot better than that, and I actually think Wingard is something of a genius at walking a particular action/comedy/blockbuster tightrope. So many elements are done just enough to satisfy, not so much as to annoy or ever slow the pacing, just the right amount of comic relief, and a sprinkling of drama that's actually fairly tasteful despite being puddle deep. He's also quite the visionary for thinking up ridiculous moments that pay off enough to make you forgive how outrageous they are. I genuinely laughed several times, a first for a MonsterVerse movie, and there really wasn't a tedious moment.
And the thing that will catch the most flak? The new mantra that will annoy the Godzilla world more than even Can't Bin the Shin? Ackshully, Godzilla x Kong is quite a lot like a Showa film.
A few other statements: +Bernie is the best human character in the Monsterverse, and it's not close. +The humor and the Easter eggs in this movie were both done more deftly than in any other Monsterverse film. Did you all catch the 2014 poster in Bernie's place? Did you catch "Punch punch punch?"
+The music was cool, and I'm happy Wingard really put his '80s electronic, neon light stamp on this movie. His confidence in his own tastes shone on virtually every frame, and even when I didn't share every particular preference, it was just a pleasure to see a filmmaker commit to it, even knowing some would sneer. +I was skeptical about all the monkey business, but it was actually all right, and Skar King was cool enough. Shimo looked fairly impressive, too, and grew on me the more it reminded me of Ray Harryhausen's dragon from The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad. + I'm tempted to make a midwit curve meme with GxK on the dumb and brilliant ends and Godzilla Minus One at the 85-115 curve. But that would be hurtful, so I won't. (for the curve peakers - this is a joke)
Criticisms -The biggest one, which others noted and which was apparent from the trailers, was the cartoonish movement of the kaiju. This was most an issue in the final battle, which would have benefitted from a little more money and time just to make it feel more impactful. But the whole movie is loaded with action and Shit Happening that, drawn out toooooo much more, and it could have felt exhausting like KoTM sometimes did. Again, Wingard has a supernatural sense for how long he can get away with things and played it safe and light. -By now, I'm sure everyone knows about Kong's glove. How he gets it is almost laughably glazed over, but again, Wingard knows we don't really care for a drawn-out explanation and sequence there. The ridiculousness of it and the visual flair with how it's executed makes you throw up your hands and say, yeah, I mean that was dumb as hell but pretty sick, and here comes the next crazy moment. -Less a criticism than an anticipation of the objections to positive reviews, but yes, if this type of movie were all the Godzilla franchise had to offer, I think I would tire of it. But we already had Sukiyabashi Jiro level sushi in Shin Godzilla and Gion Kyoto-level Kaiseki-ryori in Minus One. It's cool to also treat the palate with a McDonald's double cheeseburger, fries, and a classic Coke whose sugary sludge we know is going to lead us to needing a very special false tooth. There are many kinds of pleasures in the world.
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masterwords · 2 years
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sunk deep in the night
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Summary: Hank is colicky, Savannah needs to sleep, and Hotch is happy to help get the baby to sleep so Derek can take a break too.
Pairings: Derek/Savannah
Warnings: none that I can think of
Notes: Inspired by an ask about Derek realizing that he has people he can trust in the team. I'm sure this isn't what you had in mind, and I do have another more case-related thing in store for you as well but this one just captured my heart and I had to make it happen. I've been very very obsessed with Hotch & Morgan & babies lately. I don't know why. This is like...completely unedited. I wrote it while my family was watching a football game so if it's bad I'm sorry.
Words: 2.1k
**
“Baby, go to sleep, I got this.”
“You haven't slept a night all week,” Savannah replied around a jaw-cracking yawn. She couldn't seem to stay awake longer than an hour or two lately, her body just wasn't bouncing back as quickly as she would like. No matter how hard she tried to push through, she hit that wall. One minute standing up and doing the dishes, the next minute the inside of her thighs was burning and her lower back began to ache and she had to sit down...after that, she was done. Sitting always led to sleeping, which led to Derek being on baby duty nearly all day and all night long.
He said he didn't mind. And she believed him. He was so sincere and he did everything with such a genuine love that there was nothing not to believe.
“I'll be okay. You wake up in the morning, I'll sneak in an hour or two. Promise. Now getcha sleep, girl. I didn't just push a baby outta my hooha.”
She leveled a soft glare at him and rolled her eyes. “I didn't either, Derek.”
“Yeah, well, you know what I mean. Sleep woman.”
He was exhausted, though. His eyes burned, his head felt like it was full of cotton balls and sometimes he walked around like he was drunk on nothing but air. Savannah called him on it, forced him to lie down with her on more than one occasion before he collapsed. They would put Hank in the bed with them for a while, until one of them got too stressed out and then he would go into the bassinet right beside the bed...neither of them slept much. Derek less. Every shift of the blankets, every sleepy little baby whimper and his eyes were open and he was waiting for the cry.
Only tonight, Hank hadn't stopped crying for hours. His diaper was dry, he was well-fed, he was burped...he was just crying. Savannah gave it the name colic and and no matter how she assured him that it wasn't a big deal, that it would suck but it would eventually pass...he hated it because he couldn't do anything but guess at how to help his son.
At 11pm, after what seemed like endless nights of screaming and wandering through the house. Holding the baby close to his chest, bouncing him lightly while he wore a path around and around, past Clooney's sleeping body always in the way, staying clear of their bedroom door. It was raining, but the sound outside was a distraction, so they stood on the back deck and stared out over the soppy backyard, listened to raindrops hitting leaves and splatting against the roof.
“Take a drive,” his mom said sometime around midnight. “That always calmed Desiree. Your dad would put her in the back of the car late at night and take her around the block a few times while I got some sleep.”
He left Savannah a note, tucked it beneath her phone on the nightstand and made for the car. Honestly, he would try just about anything. With a coffee in hand, quickly heated up from the mug Savannah had thrown in the fridge when she couldn't finish it earlier, he hit the road. First around the block, and Hank kept crying, but just before he was ready to give up...there was a brief spell of quiet. He hadn't even recognized it for that at first, it was so otherworldly. And then there were whimpers, sniffles, then coos...and then silence. He was three blocks from home, and something inside of him said not to turn around, just keep going. Just keep going. So he did. He drove. Hit the wide empty highway, twinkling rainbow lights from buildings splattered like paint over the melting black asphalt. His eyes were so tired he could barely keep them open.
A stop for coffee at McDonald's woke the beast, and there were the hectic screams again. This time worse, probably because he didn't want to be woken up. The shrieks sounded panicked and pierced his ears.
“Heyyyy, heyyyyy...I'm sorry, your highness...” he said, throwing the car into drive with a hot coffee already pressed to his lips, scalding his tongue. Driving, he hoped, would return him to that peaceful sleepy place.
No such luck. Hank screamed and screamed until he found himself pulling over just to pull the kid out and hold him, hoping maybe that would help. It took him a full minute to realize he'd pulled over within view of Quantico. Right there, his old home. And an old familiar light was burning on the top floor, corner.
It was hardly even conscious thought when he pulled out his phone and dialed Hotch's number.
“Morgan?” Hotch asked, his voice deep and groggy.
“Hey, man. You uh...” he paused, suddenly flush with shame. Was he really standing outside of Quantico, outside of doors he used to be able to walk through every single day, asking to be let in because he couldn't handle a newborn? He was the man of the house at ten years old, and he'd handled his sisters and his mom and making dinner, he'd survived Carl Buford and his cabin. He'd gone through the police academy, SWAT training, the FBI academy, law school, marched into battle on the football field...but this tiny baby in his arms was undoing him. “You mind if I come up? I need some help.”
He'd always been able to handle things on his own, and he'd always found it hard to ask for help when he was drowning. Hotch and the team showed him that he could, he could ask for help and they'd give it no questions asked. They'd never let him down, but it had taken years for him to trust that implicitly. And yet...he still wavered. He still wondered if he would take too much, ask for more than he should. And he left the team...he walked away from them. What right did he have coming back now, weeks later, like he hadn't turned his back?
But Hotch appeared in the glass, pushing the door open, beckoning him inside. There was a security guard, he could just have called down and had them give Derek a visitor's pass, he didn't have to come all the way down himself.
“What can I do for you?”
Derek thought about the night he told Hotch he was leaving. About what happened before even that. About crying out to Savannah to call Hotch call Hotch call Hotch. Trust. That's what trust looks like, that's what it feels like. No fear lacing those words. He was afraid for his life, but not all afraid that Hotch wouldn't charge the gates of Hell to drag him back. That Hotch wouldn't jump headfirst into the river Styx, fight the devil himself...
“Thanks, man,” he said while Hank screeched in his ear and he didn't have to explain it, Hotch knew. He held the door open to Derek, nodded to the security guard, and stepped into the waiting elevator without a word. “This is late, even for you. Why are you still here?”
Hotch sighed and punched in the button, leaning into the wall for support. “We just got back from a case about an hour ago. I had a little too much coffee on the jet I'm afraid, so I figured I should use it to my benefit and get a head start on the reports.”
“Messy?”
Hotch nodded solemnly. “You could say that.”
Hank's cried echoed in the tiny elevator, increasing briefly when it jumped and started rising, and then dying off as he stared around. The strange feeling of movement seemed to momentarily lull him. Stopping, walking into the BAU, he picked right up where he left off.
“Colic?” Hotch asked quietly, leading Derek up the stairs to his office. The BAU was dark, only the light from his lamp spilled out to guide their way.
“That's what Savannah calls it.”
“Jack was colicky, it made for a lot of challenging nights. Haley bore the brunt of them, but I helped when I was able.” Hotch paused, chewing the inside of his cheek a moment while he watched Hank squirm and cry in Derek's arms. “I could have helped more.”
Derek wouldn't argue with that, but he wasn't here to shame Hotch for being an absent father. The man's life was a cautionary tale. “May I?” Hotch asked, extending his arms to Derek who didn't hesitate to pass the baby to his boss. No. Not boss. Friend. To his friend.
“My mom told me that driving would help, and it did for a while...but then I stopped for a damn coffee, and it woke him up. He's been yelling at me ever since.”
Hotch's eyes met Derek's for a second before fluttering low, looking at Hank who went quiet. Staring up at this new person holding him. “You remember me?” he whispered with a small smile. “I remember you. Your hand was barely big enough to hold my finger and now look at you...”
Derek sat on the couch, leaden and exhausted. It was even less comfortable than he remembered. He'd seated himself here so many times over the years, long long years. Coming in to visit, to talk official business, to complain and to vent. When Hotch first inherited the office, he wanted to get rid of it. The couch smelled funny, like cigarette smoke and moth balls. But Derek had gone and gotten himself hurt on a case, and instead of going home he fell asleep on the couch while Hotch worked and something about that moment...see a need fill a need...compelled him to keep the raggedy old thing. He had it all but fumigated, until it smelled only faintly like thirty years of good old boy cigarettes and whiskey, and there it remained. He ran his hands along the almost pilled velvet surface and watched as Hotch rounded his desk and sat down, Hank cradled happily in one arm. The baby was still complaining but quietly now, little grunts and grumbles, not unlike the man who held him. Hotch cradled Hank against his right side, a pen poised over his paperwork with his left, and every now and then he would look down at Hank whose eyes were wide and as focused as they could be on the strange man holding him.
“What the hell is this?” Derek asked, leaning back into the cushion, completely beat. Hotch smiled and shrugged.
“Babies feed on our panic. If you're worked up, he's worked up. Haley told me that once.”
“You do this with Jack?”
“No. I tried, but I could never manage to calm myself down enough to make sense of it.”
“Well, you're doing a hell of a job now...he hasn't been awake and quiet this long in...I don't know man.”
Hotch just smiled, glancing up at Derek and then back to his papers.
“Thank you, Hotch.”
Nodding, Hotch smiled. “My pleasure.”
Derek knew, without a doubt, that what he said was the truth. It was his pleasure. He could tell that something about holding Hank was helping Hotch, too. The case, he could imagine, had been rough. Usually Hotch didn't flinch, would just say it was fine, but tonight he admitted it was messy. Messy, for Hotch, usually meant that it cut him deeply. And maybe if they'd gotten home earlier, he would have gone home, spent time with Jack and Jessica, but getting home so late he was alone.
Maybe they both needed this, Derek thought as his eyes drifted shut. He couldn't help that part; he hadn't slept in days. Not really. But Hotch wouldn't mind, not really. Hotch was engrossed in his paperwork, Hank was falling asleep to the sound of Hotch's slow heartbeat, and Derek didn't need anything to help him fall asleep except this blissful silence. The white noise, the hum of the air vents and the swishy sounds of cars driving in the rain and an occasional frustrated hum or scratch of the pen or flip of paper.
Derek slept until his phone buzzed and it was Savannah's tired voice on the end of the line. Until she asked him where he was and when he'd be home because the house was too quiet. When he explained where he was and she told him never mind, just stay, and tell Hotch she said hi and thank you and she was going to order his favorite coffee from Seattle in bulk because he must have had some kind of magic about him. She couldn't thank him enough, and even if Derek insisted that Hotch would never feel like this small act warranted such a gift she insisted.
Trust. Derek smiled, curling back up on the couch after asking if Hotch minded, if he'd just wake him when he needed to head home...trust. He trusted Hotch with his life, and with his wife's life, and now with his son's. The first time he fell asleep on this couch he'd just barely started to tiptoe around the first of those things, and now he couldn't imagine his life without the comfort inherent in all of them.
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bunnylafee · 11 months
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Ok, I did it again. I forgot to do a day of ketamine treatment post so buckle up this one is going to be long?
Monday I did my at home ketamine treatment, I finally found the right dosage so I got sufficiently high to disassociate and experience my feelings on a different level. I listened to some cool music but due to the crazy work week I had the past few days I ended up falling asleep. I slept for like two hours roughly before hubbs presented me with food.
The main difference I have noticed between the Spravato treatment and the mindbloom treatment is the mindbloom you don't stay high as long.
Tuesday, I had a VERY busy day. I had to wake up early for a telehealth appointment with my psychiatrist and then tidy for a hot minute before rushing off to my therapy intake appointment at this new place I'm trying out. It was heavy. I had to unpack all my trauma again which I hadn't done in like 7yrs so it was hard to put back away, it's like it went back but didn't fit right so all day I just felt down and off, disassociate a little bit. All I did was trauma dump then I went grocery shopping after for the week. Finished up the laundry I was doing, of which I have more.
Went to dance class and learned some choreo and we all decided to do a second part class so the choreo will continue next week. Already signed up for it. Then had a lazy veg time with someone in my kigarumi while we watched British TV. I ate way to many oreos. Had a little nap on the couch with hubbs and now I'm in bed writing this.
I haven't had time to process today's therapy intake and repack the trauma back in properly. I just kinda shoved it back in haphazardly and hoped for the best. I was happy this morning then after therapy intake I just wanted to curl up and ignore the world.
I set it for every other week for now. I have apparently a lot she wants to talk about. She doesn't even know how far down the trauma hole it goes. She's in for a rude awakening.
At least I didn't cry this time. There was a few moments where I got close to almost getting there and could feel my voice trying to crack but I didn't let it.
I feel exhausted from today. All of it. I'm going to lay down now.
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wine-dark-soup · 1 year
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ASKS BE UPON YE
1 / 3 / 5 / 7 / 20 / 21 🦎
Hey THANK YOU SORRY that i took a nap right after i told you i'd get to the asks. work.... exhaustion................... but you're giving me... enrichment. in these computerless times.
1. What's your oc's gender identity? What's their relationship to their gender?
Ough, tough one. Eos wouldn't be anything else than what she is - a soul in a woman's body - so i suppose i can safely say she's cis - or like, that she doesn't care enough to worry about her very gender. But she has a long story of slowly getting more and more alienated from the steppe's culture, which strongly impacted her gender presentation mostly. she was forced to dress à la sharlayan by a bad guy, which was awful and then the bad guy caused her exile, so we're not off to a great start. leaving the steppe's quite genderless robes behind was quite difficult, especially when she then reached other countries and continents and saw what some tailors had in store for women KJDSKJDSKJ. that made her feel even more different and weird than she already was. xaela are quite a rare sight outside of the steppe so she had no one to tell her if what she saw and felt was normal, and how to cope.
that's why all her outfits are 1. not specifically feminine (though the game makes them look more feminine than they are in my mind) and 2. not eorzean. yes, the crystarium aiming set is definitely not something she'd have worn back in the steppe. but it covers her body. same with gunbreaker outfits in general. recently, getting into white magic let her choose a more steppe-like outfit - large concealing coat, practical, with embroidered motifs, boots and skirt with pants (protection from whatever could crawl on her legs) that let her be finally closer to nature and herself again.
that gender and cultural question is also why she TECHNICALLY creates her own clothes but i haven't leveled the corresponding crafting classes yet cough. she's learned leatherwork in the steppe and she's most certainly a good weaver. tailoring your own outfits according to your own preferences and all that to avoid the shameful white mage mini skirt
3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?
She knew, I think. She had some kind of homoerotic friendship with Cotota (the khan's niece from Reunion) when they were teenagers. Then she got exiled and the fear and trauma resulting from this, then the wol business, buried her romantic and sexual feelings so deep she wouldn't find them back in years KJDSKJKJSD
she started feeling better after the elpis trip, though it still wasn't all perfect - still, she had enough hope to be the one defeating meteion and not the reverse. at the same time the twelveswood's blasphemy was roaming the forest and by dealing with it she became kan-e-senna's friend.
generally speaking, the last part of endwalker and the patchs are the moment she starts feeling good enough for people around her to feel real again. like suddenly she feels she's in the world again, and so can make friends. and she did. then among those friends was the elder seedseer and eos spent some time recovering from the ultima thule fight in gridania so their friendship grew into something else :) and it was all natural she didn't feel surprised by the fact she was into women at all. but she WAS surprised that she could FEEL SOMETHING.
5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?
For most of the MSQ eos was asexual in my head. just couldn't picture anything else, any other identity. but honestly that was caused by my personal issues, i was afraid to engage with the plot outside what was canonically defined (for reasons). yes i had depression. yes once i got better eos immediately became a lesbian. but her asexuality is still part of her story - though at this point i wouldn't call it asexuality to respect my asexy friends. that was just trauma. but that lack of interest in anything sexual/romantic was definitely an important part of her life and she is trying to make sense of it
7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?
Honestly. No.
20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?
Not in terms of labels or anything - my lesbian identity has been pretty solid for as long as i can remember - but i DO HAVE several forms of OCD, and have for five years, including homosexual OCD (aka comphet but make it a mental disorder) i have intrusive thoughts about having heterosexual sex and i compulsively check every thought to see if it means i'm straight. and finally setting in stone that my oc was also a lesbian and in a happy relationship helped me quiet the intrusive thoughts. that and sertraline. but i swear it makes me feel happy to see my oc happy - and it seems right, like it can't be otherwise. she couldn't be with anyone else than a woman. just like me irl. it's validating.
21. Free ramble card wee
i still hate square enix for what they've done to the female version of the neo-ishgardian outfits like let eos wear a leather jacket free her from that gender role prison yes i've said that a thousand times yes i will keep saying it
also gaia and ryne's story is the best lesbian representation i've ever seen and every young wlw should play it. literally felt a weight leave my shoulders as ryne caught gaia from the void and the camera cut to the rainbow crystal and a field of newly grown flowers where a desert stood but a second ago. sudden breath of fresh air and life brought by gay love
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adirtnap · 2 years
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game tier list twenty twenty two
2022 was the year of every video game being five or more video games at the same time. games were deckbuilding AND basebuilding AND roguelite AND fishing AND farmingsims. i don't think this worked out TOO well but i can see the appeal and i hope we can make a good one sometime!
game of the year 2022:
celeste!! the best and only video game. video, space, game. this is the peak of the genre, which is understandable because it is also the only game that exists.
it's just so FUN. like, first i play celeste as a vocation AND THEN when i'm exhausted i turn off celeste, sit for a sec, and think, "ah, time for some light fun. let's play a bit of celeste."
S tier (video games of all time)
mm rando ("Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask Randomizer, allsanity settings") this shit is so fun?? it's so fun. i will play this every year
inscryption ohhhhh man did someone have fun making this game and it SHOWS. some guy that i bet really likes and appreciates magic the gathering made a video game about: what if you played magic the gathering and it mattered SO MUCH. what if everything in your world was to enable you having a good and terrible time playing (original and realllly well-designed?) trading card games. and he was RIGHT and i had a good and terrible time
dwarf fortress!!! i first played dorf fort in 2012. i learned to play it alongside a guy i'd just met on study abroad because we were bored nerds. he is now my best friend. i have loved this game for TEN YEARS!! i once met derek yu (spelunky etcetera) at a very nice party and extremely embarrassingly trapped him in a conversation so i could talk about how good dwarf fortress is. he was very gracious and understandably uncomfortable. i like this game a LOT a lot. but, for every year i've loved dorf fort, i haven't really been able to recommend it to anyone. "hey, do you want to play a game that is so fucking hard and annoying to learn?" the answer is not usually "oh yeah for sure"
everything about the new UI-remake is good. they took the "impossible to learn" out of the sentence that i have so many times said, "this game is brilliant and enchanting and also impossible to learn." (the game is now fully "and also.") they did a good one.
A tier (delightful games)
elden ring my computer was too sad to keep playing this, and i am sad about that. it was GREAT, everything about it was as delightful as the darksoul and more. i can't wait to finish it (and probably give it s-tier) when computer good
fortnite they finally made a good battle royale and it is fortnite. good job i like my friends and this game is what i did with them a lot.
super mario sunshine perfect nintendo-y game. filled with little guys of all kinds. i will play this every year
the barnacle goose experiment horror abiogenesis autoclicker!!
sayonara wild hearts GOOOOD soundtrack good game
B tier (really fun games)
vampire survivors this is the most video game ever. i've heard it described as "the best video game of 2003." i've also heard the developer used to program gambling-machine animations. i would have played this on the school bus on the way to highschool. it rules
neon white really fun, zøooomy. i don't have the patience to find microoptimizations in levels to beat my friends, but DANG is playing each level for the first time fun. the writing was cringe AND free, it made me smile
C tier (games i liked)
citizen sleeper to paraphrase shannon: a dnd-videogame except for friends at the table enjoyers. i really liked that every choice felt limited but intentional, rather than disco's fuck-you kinda dice rolls. but, the sell was: "things… are happening. hmmmm what could they be?" which was not strong enough to keep me deeply invested. i'll keep going back and playing little by little
helltaker it's like eight minutes long and it's full of newgrounds drawings of demongirls. it's not a good game. i liked it a lot
D tier (games i did not like)
loop hero. backpack hero. slice and dice. dicey dungeons these are all the same game and they are all different variations of boring
cult of the lamb ANOTHER five-games-in-one that added up to… one-half of a good game? the fighting is like worse hades, the farming sim is like worse dontstarve. the minigames are ok. it was fine
subnautica LOVE a shark! but the game was brought down by the "you have to find a tiny item in a huge ocean and if you do not you cannot progress or you will miss major parts of the story" and also "find that tiny item on a short clock with constant danger." i ended up using the wiki, and shortly after ended up reading the plot because that was more fun than playing the lategame
however, many good moments of "oh wow yikes that's a fuckoff big shark huh" which i DID enjoy
death's door not a bad time but not for me. i think i'd rather play tunic (i haven't played tunic)
F tier (i hate it)
deathloop THEY BIOSHOCK-POISONED THIS GAME SO BAD
the concept of a majora's-mask-plus-dishonored-problem-solving-shooter? quite good. this game? really sucks. this game is the sum of every boring-but-sells lesson internalized by marketing departments on the success of "the genius of environmental storytelling," but instead of genuinely funny bits (like left4dead2's graffiti!), they went for an utterly bland "THIS UTOPIA? DIDN'T WORK OUT HUH"
also the core mechanic just wasn't very fun, was it, it just didn't work. they made it a pretty good fps and also a ~nothing else~
the upside was the art direction which: was good enough to do environmental storytelling with! it makes me mad that some goooood art got wasted on this game
hon. mentions
madness in square garden, for having a good name watching someone else play outer wilds
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tragcdysewn · 1 year
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@irresistiibles continued from here!!
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"because keeping you alive was my responsibility, qingxuan. it always has been." he'd known that what he'd done could have ended with him being expelled from the heavens if he was caught. of course he'd known. but what did divinity matter if he had to watch his brother die a slow, agonizing death, and spend the rest of eternity living with that failure? he'd exhausted every other option available to him, and there was no other choice that he'd had that would allow him to actually succeed at his goal. "then i did what i set out to do. i can bear the consequences if it means you got to live. but i would not curse you with a worse fate than your original one, qingxuan. i would obviously have preferred for us both to survive, but if i died, he would let you go. what other purpose would he have had to harm you if i was already dead? his revenge was taken, it was all said and done, and you could go free, continue to live well." and he knew that he'd been correct about that. he knew that black water had allowed qingxuan to go unharmed, and while he knew it couldn't have been easy to watch what had become of him, she had been safe in the end, and that was all that mattered. he could move past what happened, he had faith in their ability to do that much. though he'd also been sure they would have help, rather than be wandering the mortal realm alone. but she'd done it, survived entirely on his own, and part of him had to realize that perhaps he'd underestimated his little brother all those years, thinking she needed assistance to survive after he was gone. it was a startling revelation, that perhaps he'd been wrong about a lot where qingxuan was involved. "i'm listening, qingxuan. i know you aren't a child, didi, you haven't been in a very long time." but he'd protected them like one, because there was no reason his little sister needed to be exposed to the horrors of the world. qingxuan could remain innocent their whole life, because he had done what was necessary to ensure they could simply exist in whatever way he wanted to. "no one thought you were an idiot! but i didn't want anyone to talk about you like there was something wrong with you! i don't understand it, do you think anyone in the heavens would have? how can you think i don't respect you when everything i've ever done has been for you? to ensure that you could be safe and happy?" something in him certainly had shifted as qingxuan flinched back from him, the realization that she might actually see him as someone to be afraid of, someone who might harm him. that he may have damaged his brother in some way he couldn't even begin to understand with his actions. all his efforts to protect them, and he'd somehow managed to alienate him to this level, to hurt her to the point she didn't want to be touched. his actions had somehow led to this? "what did you mean, meimei?" he asks after a moment, unsure of what else to say in response. his worries were somewhat appeased by the other reaching out to him, but the instinct had still been to pull away, and he couldn't shake the dark feeling that came with that realization. but he nods slowly in response to the others request, a long sigh escaping his lips. he moves when qingxuan does to sit next to them, letting them decide how much distance he wanted in between them for the moment. everything felt off right now, and he honestly had no idea what to do or say anymore. he nods again, agreeing silently to his sibling's request. he didn't like the idea of leaving them to potentially flounder, but at least this way he could still have a place in his life. what other option did he really have, here? "we can do that. i... i will try." he wasn't foolish enough to promise to completely change his entire outlook overnight, but attempts could be made, he could manage that much, at least.
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gillianthecat · 2 years
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NaClYoHo Day 5
I did not end up doing the dishes yesterday after all; I decided not to even try because I kept getting coughing fits whenever I stood up. But I did them this morning, despite really not wanting to. I wasn't too tired, I'd just kind of lost the momentum of doing things and the novelty of being sick was wearing off. But getting the dishes done felt good, and I looked out the window at the misty rain on my neighbor's roofs and the distant orange and green trees and at the water droplets on the spiderweb in my window frame, and it was all very pretty.
I still had some energy after the dishes so I wanted to go for a walk but then I decided to fold my clothes from the drying rack first. And I did it! I didn't put them away, mostly because my dresser situation is chaos right now and that felt overwhelming, but I did put them in tote bags to carry upstairs when I have the energy.
And then I did go for a walk in the not quite rain. When I went to Ireland when I was five they called this kind of weather "soft out" (or so the family story goes, I haven't checked if this is true) so that's what my family always calls it. It also felt really nice; sometimes I forget I how good it feels being outside when I'm holed up in bed for a long time. I walked to the end up the patio, checked my energy levels and then decided I could go further and so made it about halfway down the block (which is the equivalent of a whole normal block, my block is very long), and decided it was time to go back. According to my magic watch, about 450 steps altogether, lol. But that's more than I had the energy for yesterday.
I've been complaining on here about being sick a lot but that's because I'm enjoying feeling like I can complain about it. Usually when I'm stuck in bed for a long time it's because my ADHD brain is refusing to do anything else and there's so much shame and embarrassment around it. So being forced to do nothing because of physical illness feels wonderful in a way. It's not my fault I'm not doing anything! My body is to blame! I have no choice but to lie here and watch my shows! I physically can't do the dishes right now!
So I am a little anxious now that I'm on the mend about getting back into cleaning. And I have a hard time evaluating my capabilities to do things even at the best of times. But I do think I can honestly say, based on my physical energy levels and not just my ADHD desire to shirk work, that I still can't do that much. Therefore the plan for today, beside the now typical doing dishes and keeping trash contained, will be to do more loads of hang-dry only laundry (enough to fill the drying racks) because a) I have a lot to get through, and b) it's convenient to have it hanging up now when I can't do other cleaning so it's not in the way. Even though drying is slow on a wet rainy day like today. And then, only if I still have energy, maybe a load of dryer-able clothes because that is low mental effort.
🔲 dishes
✔ replace trash can bag in room
✔️ keep trash contained
✔️ gather two loads worth of hang-dry laundry
✔️ wash first load
✔️ wash second load
✔️ hang first load
✔️ hang second load
bonus round:
✔️ wash regular load
✔️ dry regular load
✔ fetch and fold clothes
But I'm going to rest a little more before starting any of that - watch this weeks ep of Big Dragon and drink some hot chocolate.
afternoon addition: well, gathering the laundry and carrying it downstairs was exhausting. So I'm not going to do the bonus round, but i will attempt to wash and hang everything already down there. Should be doable even if tiring.
evening addition: i had momentum and the laundry basket was right there ready to go so I ended up doing it. even though i got exhausted folding it I'm glad I did; it's so satisfying to a) have it done and b) replace the boxes with check marks.
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septembersghost · 2 years
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@ disconnect anon, i know you didn't want me to post that ask and totally understand why, but i still want to reply to part of it
i tend to agree that hs4 will have a different vibe and sources of inspiration, and that it likely won't focus on this moment (particularly if the album is 2+ years away, a lot can happen in that time!) I think this breakup gave him relief more than sadness. agree, there was some worry about how heartbroken he might be since it was such a long relationship, but like i said in another discussion not too long ago, sometimes things end for the better, and instead of feeling crushed by that, you feel lighter.
i haven't had the separation from him that some of you have, but i think that comes from my somewhat different perspective of coming in for fine line, so i experienced everything else retroactively, and all of his music independently of fandom (or even of social media, i wasn't active or posting anywhere at the time three years ago, so his music was a unique source of company, and i immersed in a lot of past content from the band and his solo journey and interviews etc by myself).
speaking in general about his relationship didn't bother me - everyone should be allowed to if they want! - but the level of press and scrutiny they got had to have been exhausting, and there did seem to be some potentially unhealthy parts of that. there's also an aspect of, like, trying so hard to stay together and present a united front and seem happy even when the fractures are starting (this was clear with, for example, taylor and CH too).
anyway, this rambling is to say that i am so sorry you've felt the disconnect, i know how hard that is and how much it can hurt. it could also be feeling a sense of overexposure, i'd say give it some time (and space if you have to), and it is very likely that love will come back to you.
i experienced a really painful disconnect in 1989 myself - a lot of which was based on personal reasons and intense intuition about what was going on with her, and we basically weren't allowed to discuss it at the time. i've mentioned this in passing before, and i'm never sure how much i should delve into it, but taylor is so important to me and such a lifeline, yet during that era, i had to step back because certain things were triggering, and being triggered by my favorite artist was like a knife to the heart. i felt like we were watching her disappear (both physically and emotionally). her ED was excruciatingly clear to me, but so too were...issues...of other kinds, and with several people close around her. and a lot of fandom was attached to those people and hyping them up, so if i said anything about feeling like they were quite damaging/toxic, i was afraid i'd be dismissed or told i wasn't respecting her, so instead it made me pull away. the fact that i was right about all of these things i struggled with and felt like i was witnessing helplessly doesn't make me feel better, it actually makes me feel WORSE in a way, because i mourn for those little shattered edges of myself, and i grieve for her and what she was going through while trying to stay shiny and small and smoothed out. there was a brief moment in time where i was scared i'd never get the connection to her back in the way that it existed, but i was wrong, and i am SO grateful for that. it just took some healing and surfacing.
i say this because that's why i believe you'll eventually get the connection to harry back, i really do. loves like that for art and artists who affect us don't tend to fade out easily. the person he is is all still there! give yourself a moment to breathe, and maybe even when you least expect it, it will mend. 💕
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