#like I’m gonna be on anti depressants and anti anxiety meds until the day I die

[enbyleighlines]

Damn I had a long, rough weekend.

(exasperated ramblings under the cut)

Actually, it started before the weekend.

I recently switched insurances because I now make too much for medicaid, a process that took several months because why not?

But finally I had insurance and I could go see my doctor, yay me!

They upped my dosage of zoloft, because I’ve been super irritable lately and I think it’s mostly burnout from work, but it had been a long time since my dosage had been adjusted, so I thought it probably wouldn’t hurt.

I start taking a higher dosage, work still sucks, but I feel a bit better, so yay.

Then a few days later, I get a letter from my insurance saying that they will not pay for my zoloft, because it’s not on their list, and I will have to find a different anti-anxiety medication.

My doctors receive a similar letter and message me, asking me to schedule a time for another apt so that we can work on that.

Fuck that, I do not want to go through the emotional turmoil of trying a different anti-anxiety med. It took a long time for me to find one that works for me, and I don’t want to go thru that process again, esp with all the stressors currently in my life.

So I tell them, pls just let me stay on this for now, I will pay out of pocket, I don’t have the time or energy for this at this moment.

Flash forward, and it’s time for me to get a refill of zoloft. I’ve already been paying for it out of pocket for those months I didn’t have health insurance, so I knew it was gonna be costly, but I think it’s worth it. I ask my doctors for a refill, as per usual.

That was on Thursday.

Unfortunately, due to my adhd brain, I forget to go grab my prescription from the pharmacy. But that’s okay. I can go one day without zoloft. I’ve done it before.

But by the end of Friday, I knew I needed to pick up my prescription. I don’t want to go two days without zoloft, or else I start to feel funky: brain zaps, headache, nausea, etc. And of course there’s the anxiety and depression coming back, stronger than ever.

So I remember to go to the pharmacy on Friday afternoon, after work.

Except… they don’t have my prescription.

I call the on-call doctor, and ask them what happened to my zoloft.

They say they sent it to hannahfords.

I’m at cvs.

I haven’t used the pharmacy at hannahfords in the past 4 years, because I moved, and now cvs is closer.

Weird, but fine.

I could go to hannahfords, but I would have to take the bus, and it’s raining super hard, and I don’t want to walk from the bus stop to hannahfords in the pouring rain.

I ask cvs if they can transfer my prescription. They say sure but not right now. We can do it tomorrow.

Alright, well that’s fine. I can pick up my meds in the morning, and then I will still have only skipped one day. No biggie. Feeling relieved, I head on home.

The next morning, I return to cvs.

They say it’s too early, they just opened. They can transfer my prescription later in the day. They will call me when it’s done.

Alright. So it looks like I might be skipping another day of my meds. It sucks, but okay.

The hours go by. I don’t get a call. I focus on drawing and watching anime, and I try not to think about it.

The evening finally comes. My head is starting to hurt a little bit.

I get a call.

Good news: cvs successfully transferred the prescription.

Bad news: they are out of stock of my medication and will need to have it shipped in. It may take a couple of days.

I can’t wait two more days.

I have a panic attack.

I calm down. I tell myself I can go to cvs tomorrow and see if they can help. Maybe they have some zoloft in the back? Idk, I just need enough to tide me over until the shipment, and I’m desperate.

I go to cvs. I tell them my predicament. They are sympathetic but their hands are tied. They have no zoloft. They tell me to maybe check another pharmacy. Except it’s Sunday, so the closest pharmacy that’s actually open is…

Hannahfords.

Well, okay. It’s a beautiful day, no rain, so I don’t mind taking the trip.

I get to hannahfords. I say hey can you please transfer my prescription back here so I can have my medicine.

They say, sorry. They’re out of stock, too.

They’re also all out of zoloft???

Except, no. The woman at the desk explains they have plenty of the 100mg tablets in stock.

I say great, I take 2 of those a day, per my doctor’s instructions.

But that’s not what is on my prescription this time.

The prescription my doctor wrote says to take 1 200mg tablet a day. And yes, that amounts to the same, the woman explains, but because your prescription asks for the 200mg tablets, I can’t give you the 100mg ones.

I can order the 200mg tablets for you, she tells me. It will take a couple of days.

Now that’s just infuriating.

I ask her, please, is there any way I can get my zoloft sooner?

She tells me I can call the on-call doctor and have them change the prescription from 1 200mg tablet a day to 2 100mg tablets a day.

So I do.

And finally, finally, on 2pm on Sunday afternoon, I get my medication.

God fucking dammit.

Why was all of that so complicated???

[cor-ardens-archive]

i forgot to have an appointment with my psychiatrist this month and ask her to fill my prescriptions, and i also failed to notice until now that my meds were running out. so i’m going to be all out in a day :)

she’s not answering my messages because i think she’s out of town for the holidays. honestly, i know this was my fault but i’m also a little upset with her because 1) i’ve told her before that i don’t like how she never gives me an “extra” prescription, so i’m always anxious about my meds running out, and 2) she knows a lot of psychiatric patients are under particular stress during the holidays! i didn’t notice i was running out because i’ve been so fucking stressed and feeling like i’m going crazy.

like, this is something we’ve talked about before and she doesn’t listen to me! i need to find a different doctor, but for now i have no idea what i’m going to do. if i can’t get the meds i’ll probably have to go to the hospital. we’re talking 2 different anti-depressants, 1 anxiety medication and 1 for adhd. going cold turkey is gonna fuck me up bad.

[whorenerdking]

mom: you know I’ve been reading this article about anxiety and it says that a lot of people with anxiety are in their head too much, getting out of your head sounds like a great idea! much better than taking medication that’s actually helping you.

me: gOd wHy dIdNt I tHiNk oF tHaT bEfOrE

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

I have my psych appointment tomorrow. Still not sure if I want to ask for anti depressants.

I haven’t felt this low in a while. Its def a mix between not having taken my anxiety meds and situational depression. The loneliness is really getting to me.

I haven’t matched with anyone on bumble in a while and the ones I was talking to all ghosted. I have little positive to say to my friends anymore so we also haven’t been talking much.

I have little positive to say here either. Or in this post.

Since M’s grandmother came to the states, i see less of him. The entire family unit relies on him. We were supposed to go shopping for apartment stuff tonight after he dropped her off midway to the aunts house. I was gonna go along on the ride because I didn’t wanna be home alone again for the umpteenth time in a row but she apparently got a flat tire and can’t meet him halfway.

So he’s now expected to drive her the full almost 2 hour (one way) drive because no one can watch her this week. And If he puts his foot down and says no, then I’ll REALLY be alone cause the responsibility of watching her will fall back on him.

I asked why couldn’t any of the cousins get her? They don’t drive and one is married. She’s married and her husband has a car, but they don’t dare disrupt them. So it’ll be M’s responsibility like always.

And not be a selfish bitch, but like, do they just forget he has a life too, that he’s almost married as well? That I get to see him maybe two hours a day? But by all means, don’t disrupt anyone else’s life.

I know he’s sick of it too. He’s worn out and gets zero time to himself. His days off are taken over by his family.

And I’m the opposite. Too much time by myself. I can’t find enough things to fill the space. So I just cry all the time now. I’m not eating much anymore. Still not losing weight despite not eating. It’s too damn hot to go outside and at least walk. He has my car when he’s helping out with his grandmom so I can’t go anywhere. Friends are busy and can’t do phone calls. My mom and I have nothing to say to each other even when I try to call. I don’t know what happened to my friend who lives in Florida and would actually make the drive here. And the other won’t make the drive and I haven’t been up to making the drive either lately.

I don’t know how to find a solution for this. Any boundary that could possibly be set literally just backfires onto him. No one wants to step up to help out. His mom watches her in the evenings (she was finally able to book a trip away because his aunt was taking her this week). The cousins helped for like 2 weeks and then stopped helping. The aunt leaves midway through her “shift” when M is off and then she’s alone for hours until either M comes over or his mom gets off work.

There’s been too many scares with his grandmom to leave her alone at this point. So I can’t even tell him to just leave her because what if she got hurt?

—-

This apartment feels a little better at least in the sense that there’s separation from my office. I don’t feel like I am always in my office anymore. The downstairs is huge, the bedroom is huge, and my office door is closed when I’m not working.

I’m just bummed because M and I were going out after we dropped his grandmom off and now I will just be here by myself instead. He should be home around 930/10. My friend said she’ll try to FaceTime me around 9.

—

Also adding that my car cannot fit three people. So even the times I’m off and would like to be with him and his grandmother, I cannot fit in my tiny “backseat”. Like I’d do the drive with them today but that’s over 3 hours. And I’m not trading my car In because they can’t get their ish together. He already traded his car in for a motorcycle to help out for other reasons and that was already a ridiculous thing to do. 🙄

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Omg do you have more cute hcs with the lov and class1a/1b

I dont care how long or short it is, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE READING THEM 💕💕💕💕💖 😊😊

Theyre so comforting <333

YES I HAVE A BUNCH. COME TAKE IT ALL.

Tomura is an expert in video games, right? Well, he's currently working from afar with Hatsume and Melissa to create a VR system to help the kids at UA train.

Everything because the first thing he did when meeting Nezu was telling him the UA system sucked.

No more public exposure, no more simple barriers keeping away the villains from the kids, no more pushing them to dangerous places with no proper supervision.

The new job of the League when it comes to working is the UA is keeping the place as safe as possible and helping the kids recover from the trauma of the war.

Dabi doesn't like working directly with the kids, so his job consist on patrolling around the UA. In case a crisis is reported, he's the first at the place and his job is to keep the crisis on minimum 'til the teachers arrive.

The funniest part is the type of crisis he has solved so far. They include:

Helping people with their crushes because they tried to confess and caused an accident. (Dabi has the fun of his life with it, being honest).

Accidents in the kitchen. (No much he can do except using Shoto as a way of taking down the flames).

Stupid fights (He is banned from helping in those since he cheered for Shoto when he was fistfighting Iida for saying something to Midoriya).

And his favorite: keeping Mineta at bay. Dabi is not the type of gentleman that defends women constantly, because he just doesn't care about helping anyone. But Mineta is a type of gross he would have incinerate in the streets if he was a man and not a kid. So instead, he just walks from a safe distance and keeps scaring the kid when he's about to annoy one of the girls.

Tomura always find Dabi is the halls complaining about the no smoking rule

They make fun of each other a little until they realize they should be working and there are kids staring at them.

Class 1-A talks about Dabi like the older brother who was in jail.

Oh, but Dabi told me...

They are actually well informed about a bunch of stuff and they know how to take care of street criminals better now.

Ah, but they're also the ones who check if he is not drinking too much, if he's having proper rest, if his burns and staples are taken care of, if he's not too anxious or depressed, if hes' taking his meds...

If he's not following one of those, they call Natsuo. Oh man, Natsuo has become the emergency contact of half the League somehow. Maybe because he has a golden heart or maybe because they all are scared of Fuyumi by some weird reason.

Shoto is the other emergency contact when it comes to Dabi, hmmm, but sometimes he just follows Dabi bad example and well.

Dabi is the anti-Santa. He's gonna give you that one gift you wanted but everyone said no because it's dangerous.

"Dabi, I'm trying to make a safer space for the kids" , "Tomura, I'm trying to make them relax".

After getting fired twice by Aizawa, Dabi is finally behaving.

This has nothing to do with the fact that he's finally dating Tomura tho.

WHICH TAKE US TO: SPINNER, THE BROTHER WHO ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGES HIS RESPONSIBILITIES.

Spinner works in the same thing as Dabi, but he's the reliable one.

Getting Uraraka down when she starts floating on her sleep, calming people down when they're having anxiety attacks, noting when someone is having a bad day and requesting the teachers to let the person rest...

Spinner is the one actually helping them with their ptsd. He makes everything so easy and pleasant. It's like they're just kids taking classes and having fun.

Besides, class 1-B knows he is amazing at cuddling and people love his hugs. Just by seeing Spinner, they cheer up.

He and Shinso are responsible for the purple hair tendency among the kids of General Studies. Their heroes.

He's also the one who helps the kids with their training sessions when they need a partner but there's no one else to help them.

He became one of the official bus drivers of the school after taking some lessons and requesting a license.

He sings with them while they travel, he always has snacks in case someone is hungry and he has pills in case someone is motion sick. Well, a bunch of pills since Dabi is always motion sick.

He had a crush on Tomura but he realized it was more platonic than anything.

Now now, Tomura and Spinner have matching gamer tattoos that said Player #1 and Player #2. Dumbasses in action.

If Dabi is the problematic uncle and Spinner is the responsible uncle...

That leave us with: Compress the artistic dad and Kurogiri the dad who's always working far away but you can totally rely on.

THE VIDEO CALLS WITH KUROGIRI AND COMPRESS ARE SO CUTE.

101 Flirting with Compress.

All the kids in all courses have a personalized mask. Compress is addicted to creating them.

His beautiful, mischievous kids that once, trying to distract him, stole his prosthesis and kept it going around the school from room to room.

Turns out it was a surprise party, but man if it was fun because Compress pretended the whole time he was a pirate looking for his long buried treasure.

HE GOT A PARROT AND HE NAMED HIM RED BEAK.

Bakugo almost exploded the whole place after hearing such a ridiculous name.

Well, Red Beak loves making fun of Bakugo, repeating everything he says.

RED BEAK AND KIRISHIMA ARE BESTIES. YES YES.

The Bakusquad would kill for Red Beak.

Sero is teaching him Spanish, Mina is teaching him to dance, Denki is teaching him bad jokes and Jirou is teaching him to sing.

Tokoyami is the official protector of Red Beak. Koda is the translator.

On the other hand, Kurogiri always gives them some honey and other things when he visits the school.

He congratulates them on their achievements, he hears them for hours talking about their adventures and he is the old friend you call when it's 3am, you're feeling bad but you don't want to worry no one else.

If you want to solve a problem, call Kurogiri. He's gonna give you the clues but let you solve it yourself.

The award for the dad with more patience goes to: KUROGIRI.

If you really really need to run away from some hours, he can use his quirk to rescue you and he would prepare some tea for you, wrap you in a soft sweater and walk with you through his yard. You can pick flowers or fruit with him until you calm down. Or you can watch old movies with him. Or bake. Being with him is like floating around in the sky, no worries, just clouds and stars and soft noises and lights.

The school always knows when it happens and they are okay with it. Mostly. Just don't do it too much.

Toga is another good option if you need to talk but you don't know with who.

She's actually a great listener and an expert on making things look less stressing than they are. You see, she pays attention at your triggers and moods and if she sees something is bothering the students, she finds a way to distract them immediately, while letting the teachers deal with the problem.

Ah, the queen of gossip.

If you want to know something about someone you need to pay the prize, tho. And she won't even tell you if she considers the secret must be guarded 'til the grave.

She's the one who takes the messages to the parents because she's fast, can hide at plain sight and doesn't put them in danger.

You never know where Toga is. She someone studies like the rest of them, but she's like, selected to secret missions. She has a lot of info but they all trust her somehow.

Maybe is the fact that she would kill and take a stab for you. And that she would never put Deku or Ochaco in danger. Or her family.

She's also Mineta's biggest nightmare.

Try sexualizing the girl and win a terrifying week, courtesy of Toga Himiko.

She won't let you sleep, she won't let you eat, you're gonna wish you were never born. She can make you feel as sexualized, observed and stalked as you make the girls feel. Oh, she's gonna show you exactly how it feels to be a girl.

Also don't sexualize the boys around her either. Stabby queen is not gentle to those who are not gentle with her friends. Period.

Friendly reminder: 0 stabbing accidents since she started studying at UA.

BECAUSE THEY GAVE HER A RUBBER KNIFE.

And finally, the Tomura headcanons.

He's always falling asleep on odd places. The kids have a new name called "let's put a blanket on Tomura".

And then they call Dabi or Spinner to take him somewhere more comfortable.

He's working so hard. He's really working so hard on redeeming himself, even when everyone has already forgiven him. But he has this fear of being a failure or being too much...

The kids are also well trained on how to help him through his anxiety or panic attacks. Even more, some of them have always a pair of gloves in them just in case.

Momo is more than happy to make him more.

It's kinda sad how much he's suffering even now. That's way they all do their best to let him know his doing great.

Kisses in the cheek, compliments on how he's looking, new products to his hair and skin, playing the games he recommends, telling how badass he is when he trains them...

Somehow being around Tomura has help them realize how important is communicating stuff. They all are way healthier now.

Tomura is just... So sincere. He's been instructed to share his thoughts, because he had a problem before with communicating properly. That means he used to forget saying certain information because it was obvious to him, but not to others.

He doesn't mean to hurt people. He's just saying what he thinks. Which also means he offends a bunch of people not by accident. And he doesn't apologize because he is just doing what he's been told.

Midoriya and Shigaraki's discussions are epic. And so are their fights. Yes, they fight like siblings. Which is crazy funny because they are like "friendly reminder you tried to KILL ME" and "WELL YOU DESERVED THAT FOR BEING A DICK".

They've finally found out that you can complain to him or get a little violent and he's not gonna even blink, just hear you out.

It was because Bakugo got a little violent with him and yeah, he just stared back waiting.

You can't imagine Dabi's anger when Tomura told him about Kotaro. He was frustrated because at least Tomura did step on Endeavor and humiliated him for life, but him? He is angry with a man that's dead and gone.

Okay no, the whole League is angry about the things that has happened to the whole League. That's the thing with finally being able to relax and feel. It all comes back in a flood.

They have prohibited being around school when the parents visit. Specially because they are no very civil to shitty parents.

And if a kid confess about having shitty parents, oh boy. The League is gonna BE PISSED.

The UA is still a total chaos, but now in the right ways. They have more normal problems, they don't have to win war and kill evil lords, they complain about not having money to go out and forgetting their homework. And the ex-villians can complain about life being boring a needing more action.

That's a good thing. That means they all are healing, together.

They're gonna be fine.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

He Obviously Cares

Pairing: Dean x Reader; OFC!Male!Character (James) x Reader (formally)

Warnings: Mild Angst, break ups, depression mentioned, Depressed vibes in the beginning, Team Free Will being sweet, Dean being sweet, Fluffy

Word Count: 2.4k

a/n: I did recently broke up with my boyfriend, and this is loosely what happened between us. And I do have these worries about him. But I hope you enjoy this; this is my first fic since being on hiatus.

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

~

She packed her bags; she was making her move.

She loaded up her car, now her boyfriends house is void of her items and belongings. She had thought moving in with him would help him with whatever he was going through but it did not. He was insecure, worried she was going to find another guy. Kept saying she didn’t like him, after every time she said she liked him. Saying he’s not sweet, when he was being sweet towards her. Kept referring himself as “The Bad Guy”. She could feel this was going to be hard to constantly reassure him that he’s wrong.

Until one night, where she stayed at one of the many hunter’s cabins, she wanted to alone time after a hard day. He respected her, understood her. Until she was getting ready for bed. A text came through as she was brushing her teeth.

“You don’t have Feelings for me.”

“Just tell me.”

Her heart pounded in her chest.

I constantly say I love you; I constantly reassure you, and reassure you and you still feel like this towards me. She thought.

Picking up her phone.

This is it. I’m ending this. I can’t do this anymore.

“Ugh, apparently I’m not good enough for you or your insecurities. Insecurities is a trust issue type of thing. And clearly you just don’t trust me.”

“OMG, No that’s not it.”

“It is it. I can’t do this anymore. It’s exhausting to constantly reassure you that you’re okay. That we’re okay. And clearly it’s not getting through to you.”

“Please stop.”

“No, it’s done. We’re done. Clearly “I don’t have feelings for you.” It’s what you told me!”

“It’s over. We’re done. Goodbye James.”

She could see him working to text her back. But stopped.

She was shaking, the nerves were running high. She took her anti-anxiety meds, some melatonin to help her relax enough to go to bed.

Now here she was, at his place while he was at work. To get her stuff and return her key to him.

She drove down the long highway, heading to the one place she knew she would be welcomed back. The one place she remained family.

She entered Lebanon Kansas around midnight. She entered the bunkers garage just shortly after one in the morning. She still remembered the key to get in, where Sam and Dean always stashed it. She parked her car next to Baby. Killing the engine she leaves her belongings in her car, very exhausted. Both emotionally, mentally, and physically.

She walks the halls slowly; nothing has changed much since she left.

She found her way to the library. Sam and Dean weren’t up, they were in bed. She sat at one of the tables. Making herself comfortable.

Her eyes began to feel warm; tears began to surface.

He had crippling depression; he will more likely kill himself over this.

Just you wait, you’ll see his obituary that he died by suicide and there will be a note blaming you.

If he dies, it will be your fault. Sure he hurt you, but you hurt him far worse.

Her hands came up to her ears, and she let the tears fall.

 Dean was one of the first to wake up. He walked up to the kitchen, doing his usual routine. Getting coffee brewed and ready for him and Sam.

Once done, he got himself a cup of coffee and walked down to the library to check if there were any new cases they could take.

Walking through the war room, he saw someone sitting in their chair, knees to her chest. Her head on her knees. He knew her from anywhere.

“Y/N?” He says, trying to wake her up.

She began to stir.

She looked up at Dean with a lifeless look in her eyes.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He says with a hard look on his face.

“No don’t, he’s not worth it.” she says, her voice void of life.

“Sweetheart, what happened, I thought you loved him.”

“Apparently “I don’t have feelings for him.’”

“He got insecure again, huh?”

She nodded.

“Why was I not good enough for him?”

“He was just insecure; it wasn’t you sweetheart. It was him, not you.”

“He has crippling depression; I just have a bad feeling I hurt him so much he’d kill himself.”

“He’s a dad, he’s not going to kill himself. He’s got a reason to live.”

True. She thought.

“When’d you get in?”

“I got here around one…maybe two in the morning.”

“Should have called or texted me before you left wherever it was you were leaving. I would have had a room ready for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, now let’s work on you. Come on sweetheart, you can sleep in my room.”

“I still have my stuff in my car.”

“We’ll worry about those later, now, you need proper sleep.”

She got up, her shoulders slumped, her expression even told him she was overly exhausted.

She, without thinking, walked right up to Dean. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her close and tight to him.

“It’s going to be okay sweetheart.” He says softly.

She took a deep breath, taking in his scent. His body wash, shampoo, his particular smell always calmed her down.

He could feel her relax in his hold; he even knew she had no intentions of moving anytime soon. And knowing how exhausted she was, he worked her into his arms to carry her to his room.

He laid her down on his bed. Covering her up under his covers, she snuggled more into his covers.

He walked back into the kitchen to make breakfast. Seeing Sam up.

“Morning.” Sam says.

“Hey.”

“Was that Y/N I saw you carrying?”

“Yep.”

“What’s she doing back?”

“She broke up with James. Apparently he got insecure again, saying she didn’t have feelings for him.”

“Sounds like he didn’t allow himself to trust her.”

“Sounds like that to  me too. But she’s exhausted, not herself either. She got worried about him and his depression getting bad.”

“Do you think, Cas could wipe his memory. Wipe her from his memory so he wouldn’t hurt as much?”

“Possibly, we could do that for her.”

“Already done.” Cas says walking into the kitchen. Making Dean and Sam jump.

“You need a damn bell or something on you Cas, quit sneaking up on us.”

“Apologies Dean.”

“I see that Y/N has returned to us, but I can sense she is drained.”

“She is. And we’re taking a break from hunting to take care of her.” Dean says.

“Where do we start?” Sam asks.

“Her stuff is in her car; I’m making her breakfast. Wash her clothes, get her old room set up. Cas, you are going to get her favorite foods, snacks, and movies. And get the Dean cave set up for a movie night tonight.”

“Alright Dean.” Cas says, turning to leave.

“I’ll get her stuff and start laundry.” Sam says, taking his mug of coffee with him.

Dean turned to the fridge, finding bacon, eggs, and milk. Making pancakes, bacon, and eggs. A hefty, hearty breakfast.

 She woke up to the smell of bacon. She stirred awake at the moment Dean walked in with a tray full of food. A mug of coffee. A glass of cold orange juice.

“What is this?”

“Just taking care of my girl is all.”

“You’re girl?”

“Yeah, you’re my girl. Remember?”

“Dean, I just broke up from an exhausting relationship.”

“Just as friends sweetheart, I’m not trying anything honest.”

“Thanks Dean, that’s really sweet of you.” She says with a soft smile.

He returned her a kind and soft smile. Walking in more and sat the tray on her lap.

“You cooked enough food, that’s for sure.”

“I only assume you didn’t eat anything yesterday or on your trip here.”

“You assumed right.” She says.

“We’re not hunting today, we told Garth to let some hunters in on some cases we find.”

She nodded, grabbing her fork, and digging in.

“Why don’t you eat something Dean?” she asks, mouth full of food. Making Dean chuckle.

“I ate already, I’m good. Besides, we’re getting your room set up, and among other things. So you just relax while we do that.”

“Thank you Dean, that’s sweet of you guys.”

“Anything to help you sweetheart. Eat up, relax and I’ll stop by again soon.” He says, turning to leave. Taking the keys to the Impala.

 She finished her plate, only being able to eat half of what he made her. She gets up to clean off her plate. Finding Sam in the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N, it’s good to see you.” He says, with a kind smile.

“It’s good to be back with you guys.” She says returning a sure and kind smile.

“Here, let me, I’ll wash those for you.” He says, holding out his hands.

She gives him her tray. “Thanks Sammy.”

“Anything to help you sweety, why don’t you go take a shower or something, relax, get cleaned up. I bet you feel gross.”

“I do. That sounds good right now.” She says turning to head to the shower room.

She heads to her old room, finding her bags on the bed, the room in the midst of a makeover. Clearly not done. She finds a note on her duffle bag.

Seeing it was written by Dean.

‘Hey sweetheart, I’m betting you are wanting a shower or something to get cleaned up and relax. Knowing you’re not a fan of baths, I bought you some shampoo and body wash that would help you relax. I’ve heard lavender scented anything helps relax you. Go check the shower room, I want you wearing my clothes, use the shampoo and body wash I got you. Take as long as you need to. Freshen up, and I’ll see you soon. ­– Dean’

She smiled at the note, turned out of her room and she made her way to the shower room finding Dean’s Henley, sweats, a pair of her clean underwear, and his flannel. She even seen the lavender scented body wash and shampoo.

She got the water set at the perfect temperature and stood under the steamy stream of water.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Content to starting over. Pretending those few months didn’t exist. Sure she can’t get that time back. But at least she ended it before it got worse.

 The scent of lavender filled the shower room when she finished. She even felt even more relaxed as she wore Dean’s clothes, smelling his scent in his clothes.

She walked around the bunker in stockinged feet. She walked past the Dean cave seeing Cas in there, rearranging the room.

“Cas?”

“Y/N, Glad to see you’re doing well. How are you feeling?”

“Better, what’s this?”

“Dean, Sam and I think a movie night will help further. So I bought all of your favorites, your favorite movies and snacks.”

“That’s sweet of you guys.”

“Anything for a friend.”

She smiles at her angel friend.

They all said the same thing to me, anything for you, anything for a friend, anything for my girl. I like this. I feel valued. She thought.

“Of course we value you Y/N, you matter to us.” Cas says.

“I keep forgetting you can read my mind.”

Cas tilted his head, confused.

“Nothing, just…thanks Cas.” She says, smiling and continuing down the hall.

She got closer to her room. Seeing Sam walking out of her room.

“Hey, Y/N, come check this out. Tell me what you think.” He says.

She quickens her pace a tad, she peers into her room, seeing a string of star lights hanging on her ceiling. Her pictures on her new wall shelves. Pictures of her with Dean, Sam, and Cas.

Her bed, looking new with new covers that fit her personality with her favorite color. She had a smile plastered on her face.

She had a small bookshelf with all of her old books she had. Her desk with her laptop. Her TV in the corner of her room, perfect view from her bed. Her Xbox console, DVD player and Apple TV. She felt like she was at home.

“I love this, thank you guys so much.”

“I’m glad you like it. Dean’s getting pizza, and we’re close to watching a marathon of movies that Cas bought.”

“How many did he buy?”

“Just…a lot.”

Oh god. She thought while stifling a laugh with a snort.

The bunker doors opened and shut.

“Dinner’s on!” Dean shouted.

“Dean it’s almost 2 in the afternoon!” Y/N giggled.

She seen him walk around the corner of the hall seeing him walking with a tall stack of pizza.

“Holy shit, what!?”

“Okay, Dean, that’s too much food.” Sam says.

“Think about leftovers dude.”

They shrugged, eh, true.

“Alright, to the Dean cave, lets get this party started.”

Y/N giggled. She felt fuzzy inside, whatever they’re doing. It’s working.

Dean sat the pizzas along the bar. Y/N even noticed some added furniture. Some adult sized bean bag chairs.

Dean had paper plates ready, sodas, beer, and another table with snacks and more sodas ready for after their lunch slash supper.

She picked the adult sized bean bag chair, Sam and Cas had the two lazy boy recliners; Dean picked the other bean bag chair. The movie Cas popped in, one of her personal favorites. Thor Ragnarök.

But once she saw Loki, her chest felt heavy. He looked like her ex. Dean saw her face drop.

Getting up with his plate, he joined her. She snuggled against him.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Wasn’t this your favorite movie?”

“It is, it’s just. Loki looks like him.”

“But is Loki him?”

“Well, no.”

“There you have it. Loki is not him. Loki is Loki. Not James.”

She nodded, continued to eat, and watch the movie.

“Anyone want seconds?” Sam asked.

Everyone practically held their plates up. Sam chuckling.

She felt tons better than she did when she first got here.

She doesn’t miss him. She only wishes him well. She does hope that one day she’ll be ready to try again but maybe hopefully she finds someone who is more willing to trust her.

She snuggles against Dean, his arm around her, holding her close. Making her feel safe. Making her feel okay.

She felt him kiss atop her head.

Maybe there is still hope. Maybe she should go for the obvious.

~

A/N: Kind of back, still on hiatus but how’d you like it? It is loosely based on my actual break up, the texts were the actual texts I received and sent to him. But please be patient with me, I’m still feeling a tad off. I’m sure I’ll post spastically when I’m okay again.

~

Dean Tags:

@pandazombie69, @akshi8278, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @mlovesstories, @jankles-blog, @flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @misfit0118, @shawnie74, @lyarr24, @missmemoire09, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 5/31/2021

[i-am-totally-a-human-being]

Hi, could you do a scenario with hajime defending his s/o after they got called crazy for being mentally ill? Thanks!

Sure thing! Fair warning this may hit close to home for some people if they’ve ever gotten bullied for this stuff.

If you have gotten bullied for having any mental disorder, know that you are valid and whoever made fun of you was in the wrong. ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Pairing: Hajime x reader (no pronouns used for reader)

Summary: the request

Setting: non-despair Au

Warning: reader has a mental disorder but I tried to keep it vague so you can insert any disorder, reader gets bullied (mainly my Hiyoko) and cries, reader takes medication for illness, Hajime is an angry bean and yells but not at the reader, I think that’s it

Under the cut!

This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair at all. It wasn’t your fault you were ill in the head. So why were you bullied for it?!

Sometimes you just needed a break, and your teachers knew this. But some of your classmates disagreed with you “special treatment” as they called it.

“So why does Y/N get to leave 5 minutes early? Some of us deserve it a lot more!” Hiyoko was the first to start the fight, as usual. Some people nodded in agreement, some were indifferent, and some, who knew of your illness, protested the girl in pigtails.

“Hiyoko,” Sonia spoke up, “it really isn’t our business to-“

“Shaddup! I think we all deserve an explanation as to why Y/N gets treated so well! It’s like she’s dying or something like Kom-“

“S-Stop!!” You yelled, gripping the rim of your desk until your knuckles turned white. Hiyoko scoffed, folding her eyes.

“Oh yeah? I’ll stop when you tell us why you get treated like royalty!”

You started panicking, you really didn’t want the others to know about your illness. You didn’t want them to see you as crazy, or them to think that you thought you were better than them for getting special treatment.

In reality, you left 5 minutes early to take medicine (by medicine I mean stuff like anxiety meds, anti-depressants, mood stabilizers, meds for schizophrenia, those kinds of meds.) to help with your mental illness, and your teachers understood why you wanted to hide it so they let you leave to take it where no one would see.

You pulled out your phone, your safe haven, something that calmed you since it brought you away from reality for a brief moment. You immediately went to messages, tapping your text conversation with your boyfriend, a reserve course student named Hajime.

The others knew of your relationship with him, and didn’t mind him eating lunch with the other ultimates so he could be with you. Well, everyone except Nagito, but he never directly interfered so you didn’t care too much.

You frantically started typing, he should be out of class and heading to you for lunch anyway.

You: Hey, please hurry.

Hajime: ok? What’s wrong?

You: please. Just hurry up. They’re asking about my illness and I don’t know what to do

Hajime: on my way.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, pig barf! Whoever your texting can wait” Hiyoko yelled, grabbing your phone and looking at who you were texting.

“H-Hiyoko! Give that back to Y/N right this second!!” Sonia tried to grab it for you, but Hiyoko was too fast to catch.

“Please, just hurry up,” she read aloud to your whole class, “They’re asking about my illness and I don’t know what to do.”

“Illness,” Kazuichi looked at you, “So you are dying like Nag-“

“Hold on!!” Hiyoko snickered, “I scrolled up! Y/N is crazy! They’re I’ll in the head! Mental! Hajime and Y/N talk about it a lot in the texts!”

“Do they talk about… anything else?” TeruTeru grinned.

“Nasty, perv!!” She laughed again, “Hajime says: do you need me to go pick up your meds for you? I know you don’t want the others seeing you. Y/N says: yes please, thank you I love you. Aaaaand scrolling up! Y/N says: I didn’t realize I was out of my meds! What’s gonna happen if I can’t take them?! Hajime says: just skip classes for the day and I’ll get them for you.”

“P-Please,” you weakly reached for the phone, tears now streaming down your face, “stop…”

“Not until you tell us what’s making you bat crazy-“

“HEY,” Your boyfriend burst through the doors, running over and yanking the phone out of Hiyokos hand, “YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO DO THAT!”

“To think,” Nagito clicked his tongue is disgust, “to think a reserve course would not only date an ultimate, but so as far as to take something from another one…”

“I was getting my S/O’s phone back, because Hiyoko stole it!”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” Hiyoko grinned, “so. Give us the details. Y/N running from getting taken to the lunie bin?”

“Did you just call my partner crazy?!”

“Yeah, well aren’t they?”

“No! Y/N has a mental illness, they’re not crazy! I… I can’t believe ultimates would even… act like that! Aren’t you guys supposed to be the best of the best or something?! You all should be ashamed! You’re all horrible!!” Hajime grabbed you as gently as he could and dragged you out of the classroom, pulling you into the courtyard and finally coming to a stop.

“H-Hajime-“ he stopped you short by pulling you into a hug, burying his face in your neck. (If you’re significantly shorter than him, he still does this but lifts you off the ground in the process.)

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N,” he sighed, “you didn’t deserve any of that. I wish I had gotten there sooner.”

“I-It’s ok… Hiyoko’s probably right. I’m gonna end up in an insane-“

“No,” he cut you off, pulling away and looking into your eyes, “She was completely out of line, and completely wrong. You’re not crazy. You’re mentally ill, and you have no control over that. You didn’t chose for these issues in your brain. And she has no right to say those things to you. I don’t care that they’re ultimates, if anyone ever says anything like that to you again don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll give them a piece of my mind.”

“Hajime,” you nodded, hugging him again and letting a few tears fall, “I will. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Now let’s go have you take your meds and then get some ice cream. On me.”

I hope this was ok!

Thank you for coming to my TED talk,

—🐝

[plaidbooks]

Yea np! Could you do a follow up with Sonny x reader with prompt #28 whump list 2 where the reader is really depressed and Sonny is there to take care of them?🥺🥺❤️

(Fuck, I also forgot to mention that there’s only one whump list, so I hope this is the correct prompt! Also, it got a little long whoops)

Part 1

You stared in the mirror at your reflection. your eyes scanning your bare skin. Besides a few scars, you had healed completely from your 60 hours of hostage hell...physically.

It had been a few months since then, and while the cuts and bruises have mended, your mind was still off. You were on high alert at all times, flinching at every sound. At least, until you crashed, usually a few days later. Sleep was either non-existent, or was filled with nightmares. Olivia had gotten you into therapy, but it wasn’t working (yet) and you were losing hope with it.

You found yourself restless--you wanted to go out, get rid of this nervous energy. But you were afraid. The other pull was to just go lay in bed and never leave it again. But then you were subject to nightmares. You just couldn’t win.

When the therapist had prescribed both anti-anxiety and anti-depression pills, you sunk even further down. You felt like you were spiraling out of control, and you didn’t know what to do.

The other detectives would call you when they were free, just to check in. You could fake it most of the time, tell them you were okay. Only Sonny seemed able to tell when you weren’t. But you didn’t want to bother him; he didn’t need to deal with your shit. You just hoped the child that had been imprisoned with you was dealing with this better.

One day, you were curled on the couch, your mood fluctuating. Your phone rang, and you saw it was Sonny. You had already learned that if you didn’t answer, he’d show up, so you had to answer.

But as soon as you hit “answer,” your breathing picked up. You broke out in a cold sweat, your body shaking as a panic attack took hold of your mind. As you clutched your phone, your thumb hit “speaker.”

“[y/n]?” Sonny called out, but his voice was muffled, as if you were underwater.

You didn’t even notice that you breathed out a, “h-help me.”

“[y/n]?” Sonny tried again. “Can you hear me? What’s happening?”

You curled in even tighter on yourself, rocking onto your side. You vaguely noticed your phone laying next to you on the cushions, but it was enough for Sonny to hear you breathing.

”You’re gonna be okay, alright? Just stay on the line with me, you’ll be okay,“ he said gently.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, Sonny’s voice blending with the rushing in your ears.

Your eyes focused as you saw Sonny leaning over you, his eyes rimmed red. “Hey.... Come on, doll. I’m here. You’re okay,” he muttered.

You simply shook your head, shaking from head to toe, tears streaming down your face. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his fingertips ghosting over your arm as he waited for it to pass.

Slowly, your breathing returned to normal, and you uncurled yourself. “Sonny, I-I’m so sorry--”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Have you taken your meds today?”

You barely shook your head, and Sonny gave your shoulder a squeeze before going to grab the bottles. You pushed yourself to sitting just as he came back.

“Let me make ya something to eat so you can take those, okay?” Sonny said gently.

You nodded, unable to say anything. Sonny hurried to your kitchen, whipping up a quick grilled cheese--you barely had food in your apartment--before coming back, a glass of water to go with it.

“I’m sorry, Sonny. This isn’t--I’m not--”

“No need to apologize. You’re going to beat this, doll. I know you are. It’s just going to take some time.”

You nodded again, not really believing it. Sonny stayed with you the rest of the day, making sure you ate and took your meds. He also held you as you drifted off into a fitful sleep, and he rocked with you when you woke up, screaming and crying.

[poisonedapples]

Roman Gets Help 1/5: Bad Nights

Part One: Virgil

Part Summary: Roman is always trying to make his anxiety more manageable with a bunch of different tactics. But a disorder is a disorder, and some days are worse than others. But at least his best friend Virgil is around to help.

Part of the Service Dog AU!

Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings: Past panic attacks, medication, anxiety, Remus making poop jokes because he’s Remus, swearing and food mentions

Word Count: 2,751

Taglist: @hold-our-destiny @pricklyfish777 @romansleftshoulderpad

Notes: Cornybird on Ao3 deserves Many Squishmallows for editing so much of my stuff, including this. So send visual squishmallow vibes to her, she deserves it

Virgil really should have known something was weird when Roman didn’t text back.

The two had made plans during lunch to meet up at Roman’s house so he could help with Virgil’s Spanish homework. Roman was infinitely better with language stuff than Virgil could ever dream to be, and even when the work was done, it was always nice to hang out in his room and get away from his wild parents every once in a while. But since Roman left school early and Virgil had to stay after for band practice, he hadn’t heard or seen Roman in a while.

That in itself wasn’t weird, though. What was weird was that when Virgil texted him that he was on his way, Roman didn’t respond. Not even with an emoji reaction or a simple ‘okay’. But even then, what was even weirder was that Virgil was right outside his door, texting Roman to open it for him, and he still wasn’t responding.

Virgil checked the last three messages he sent to Roman’s phone. All of them were marked as delivered but not read, which was also very concerning. What could Roman be doing that he hadn’t checked his phone in thirty minutes? Virgil got anxious when he didn’t read messages immediately, let alone waiting half an hour.

Virgil sent him one last text before putting his phone away. You there? I’m outside.

No response. Virgil knocked on the door and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting and shifting on his feet for someone to open the door. After a couple minutes, he started to think Roman had just forgotten.

However, a slight spark of hope rose up in him at the sound of the front door opening. But when Virgil looked up from his shoes to the person at the door, he felt his shoulders sag.

It wasn’t Roman who had opened the door. There was no shy and apologetic smile with Princess right under his feet. Instead, it was his bastard brother in ripped jeans and a green tank top, blowing bubblegum like a bully in a 90s Nickelodeon show.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite emo! What brings you here, Raven Way?” Remus asked, leaning on the door frame with a cocky smile.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’ve already used that one.”

“It’s my favorite nickname for you. It’s the perfect brand of insulting. It has spice to it.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained then. Is Roman out somewhere?”

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “No, he’s been up in his room. Last I checked he was as passed out as a corpse.”

“Okay...can I come in then?”

Remus smiled and opened the door for Virgil, taking a bow as he stepped inside. Virgil rolled his eyes again. This guy is so fucking weird. “You know where his room and the shitter is. Just follow the trail of dog hair to his royal highness.”

“You terrify me, Remus.”

“Good! That’s the aesthetic I’m going for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a bigass thing of chili dip in the fridge that may or may not be expired. We’ll see!” Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Remus skipped back to the kitchen and right to the fridge, but he really didn’t want to be around for that mess. Instead, Virgil went upstairs and turned left to Roman’s room, the colorful Disney decorations covering his door. Virgil knocked twice, but when met with no answer, he came inside anyway.

The first thing Virgil noticed was the lights. The windows and blinds were shut tight so no sunlight could get through while Roman’s fairy lights around his room were turned on. The soft twinkling gave the room a feeling of calmness, but the sight on the bed was more concerning than tranquil. Princess was sat down on top of the bed comforter with two arms wrapped around her, Roman blending in with the sheets he was under as he shoved his face in his dog’s fur. At least she didn’t seem to mind.

Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening. Virgil felt his heart sink when he saw the tear streaks down his face and his messed up hair, but Roman tried his best to respond to Virgil anyway. “Hey…”

Virgil took off his shoes and threw his backpack onto the floor next to the door. “Hey, dude. You look like shit.”

Roman made a strange huff sound, probably meant to be a laugh. “Thanks.”

He buried his face back into Princess’ fur, and Virgil felt that pang of worry grow stronger. He moved to the other side of the bed, sitting alongside Roman and his pile of blankets and pillows. “You okay?”

Roman shrugged. “I’m doing better.”

“What happened?”

“Panic attack.”

Virgil sucked the air through his teeth as a way to say yikes. “Seems like it was a pretty bad one.”

Princess rolled over onto Roman’s chest, and Roman cuddled even closer than what Virgil thought was possible. He looked so small when he did that. “Worse than usual.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“No. Sometimes it just happens.” Roman kissed the top of Princess’ head. “Anxiety just...does that.”

“Yeah, I get it. Trust me, out of everyone you know, I’d probably be the one to understand it the most.”

“...Yeah.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Virgil didn’t actually know what to do when Roman was like this. He’s stopped him from having panic attacks in the past, but he’d never seen him look this bad. Roman was curled in on himself under the covers, gripping onto Princess for dear life in an attempt to soothe himself. His pile of stuffed animals usually spread around the bed were now in a giant pile around his body, and his weighted blanket poked out from under the comforter too. It looked like he was trying his hardest to get comfortable, and Virgil didn’t know what else he could do. A distraction? A nap?

Well, only one way to find out.

Virgil took a deep breath in. “...Is there any way I can help?”

Roman shrugged again. “Not that I know.”

“Did you take a nap? That usually helps me the most.”

“I just woke up. My meds knocked me out.”

“Your meds?”

Roman took a pill bottle from his nightstand and showed it to Virgil. He read the confusing label that all medicine bottles have, but the name of the pills was long and unfamiliar in Virgil’s mind. Roman placed them back once Virgil got a good look and curled in on himself more. “Panic attack meds. They help you calm down really quick when you’re having an attack. They always put me to sleep after. Remus likes to call them my tranquilizer dart.”

Virgil snorted. “I mean...accurate name. I’ve just never seen you with those before.”

“I only take them on bad days. My therapist warned me about how I shouldn’t take them after every panic attack, because then I’ll never learn how to deal with them on my own, and I might get addicted. Which I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, I know about the addiction thing. I used to be on anti-anxiety until last year.”

Roman tilted his head up to look at Virgil for the first time. “Really?”

“Yup. I got eased off them after a while, though. Now I just take an antidepressant, which honestly isn’t much. I think everyone in our friend group is on some kind of meds.”

“...Patton?” Roman asked.

“Patton’s one depressed mother fucker. I say that out of love, but yes, he’s also on antidepressants.”

“And Logan?”

“...Dude. Epilepsy.”

Roman let out a silent oh. “...I forgot you take meds for that.”

“Our brains are fucked up and we accept this.”

Roman flashed a small smile but didn’t respond. After that, the two had fell silent as Virgil awkwardly patted a beat on his leg to put his nervous fidgeting to use.

What do you do for someone getting out of a panic attack? It was obvious Roman wasn’t in a talking mood, but it was killing him inside to just...sit there while he looked so helpless. But he’d never had to deal with this with a friend before. The worst he’d dealt with were Patton’s bad depression days, and those had nothing on how horrible Roman looked right now. And if he already took a nap...what else were you supposed to do after a panic attack?

Virgil thought back to his own experiences. Of course, Virgil’s anxiety was nothing compared to Roman’s, but it was better than nothing. And comfort worked no matter how bad you felt, even if it was only a little.

He thought back to his own parents. How his mom would hold him and let him cry into his shoulder if he needed to, but that was too awkward for him to do with Roman. His dad would let him curl up and watch him play games on the console, which could maybe work…

...Then Virgil remembered another thing his mom did once after one of his worst panic attacks. It might be a bit embarrassing because of intimacy, but it would help Roman feel better. And that’s all that matters.

“I’m gonna go get some stuff, okay?” Virgil said, “You stay right here.”

Roman hummed. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but okay.”

With that, Virgil hopped out of Roman’s bed and left the bedroom.

First, he needed a water bottle. Roman probably had some water when he took his meds, but it likely wasn’t enough to stop a headache after all the crying. Virgil went downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. While he was there, he looked through the rest of the fridge and noticed that there was no container of chili dip in there anymore. Gross.

Expired chili dip aside, he would need a face rag as well. Virgil went through a hallway on the first floor to the older bathroom downstairs, looking through the drawers for a decent cloth. A small one was hidden in the back of the drawer with some bottles of face wash and lotion, so Virgil grabbed that and took a mental note to put it back later. He stood in front of the faucet and stared at it for a while.

Was cold or hot water better for getting tears off someone’s face? Warm water seemed like it’d be more comfortable, but cold water could also be more refreshing. He thought about the possibilities for a while and settled on warm based on his own preferences, turning the hot and cold handles to where the water was only slightly warm, wetting a side of the cloth then turning the faucet off.

Before he left the bathroom, Virgil grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper and then headed out the door. He was back in Roman’s room not even five minutes later, setting his stuff on the nightstand for a second as he grabbed his DS from his bag and turned it on. Roman glanced up from the bed with a confused look, but didn’t say anything. Virgil came back next to the bed and motioned for Roman to move to the middle. Reluctantly, and with some shifting of Princess still at his side, Roman did so.

Virgil sat in Roman’s old spot and grabbed the wad of toilet paper. “Here, sit up and blow your nose. The last thing you need right now is more breathing problems.”

Roman grunted as she shimmied out from under his weighted blanket to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He took the toilet paper from Virgil and blew. “...Thanks.”

“No problem. Now just stick with me for this next part, because I’m not good with touchy-touchy shit, so this’ll be a little awkward.”

Roman gave Virgil a confused look, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed the damp cloth and silently tilted Roman’s head to face him. Virgil tentatively lifted the cloth to his face and wiped the tears from under his eyes, the gesture mixed with the warm water making Roman hum in content. Virgil didn’t acknowledge what was happening, he just wiped off his friend’s face, flipping to the dry part of the cloth to dry him off after.

“There. That should help you feel less gross, anyway.”

“Thanks...it helped.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Virgil set the cloth to the side and handed Roman the water bottle. “And drink this, it’ll help with that nasty headache you probably have.”

Roman twisted the cap open and chugged the bottle, finishing half of it in record speed before putting it down again. Virgil could tell by how fast he chugged it that his head was probably throbbing.

“Feeling a little better now?” Roman nodded. “Wanna watch me play Harvest Moon until you probably pass out again?”

He nodded again, Virgil scooting closer to him so Roman could place his head on his shoulder as he watched. His hand combed through Princess’ fur as Princess trapped the other under her paw to lick. Most people would think it was gross, but considering licking was one of her grounding techniques, he was desensitized to it by now. “Which one do you have?”

“A New Beginning. I’ll show you all my cows because they’re bomb as fuck. My first cow is named Oven and I have a baby one named Chaos.”

Roman laughed as Virgil started up the game. “Awesome. You play it often?”

“Eh, sometimes. It’s not my favorite game, but I carry it with me because it’s good for calming anxiety down. All I gotta do is feed my animals and mine and shit. Nothing else matters, you know?”

Roman nodded as best he could from Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil loaded up his save file and started to show Roman around his farm, mostly skipping the crops and going straight to the pets and farm animals with the most ridiculous names Virgil could get away with using only six letters. Virgil chatted away about his game and read all the speech bubbles out loud, showing off his wife who he swears he married platonically since his character was obviously gay and talking about his rivalry with the hair stylist. Roman wasn’t responding much, just a few hums and little laughs here and there, but Virgil didn’t mind. So long as his friend was feeling better, that was all that mattered.

A while later, Virgil was baking desserts for a contest being held in town when he spoke up again. “I’m shit at cooking good stuff in this game, but I can make some neat pancakes, apparently. I’m gonna make this contest my bitch.”

There was no response. That wasn’t very strange in itself, but usually when Virgil sweared, Roman at least made a small huff of a laugh from his shoulder. But this time, he was completely quiet. Virgil looked over at his shoulder when he almost awwww’ed out loud.

Roman had fallen back asleep, his mouth open slightly with his arms cuddling Princess extra close as she seemed to relax alongside him. He was adorable, and in a moment of softness that Virgil would deny to the end of his days, he helped Roman to lay back in bed and brushed the hair out of his face. Roman still clung slightly to him even as he slept, so Virgil accepted his fate and moved to curl up alongside him, continuing his game with a smile on his face.

“Your sleep schedule is gonna be absolutely fucked, dude.” Virgil said. There was no response, obviously, and Virgil didn’t talk to his sleeping friend after that. He just took a mental note to tell his parents he was staying the night before it got too late and kept caring for his farm.

Maybe later he’d wake Roman up and get him some dinner, letting him recharge and take a shower before they actually had to go to bed. He’d be too awake to actually sleep at first, but the company of his friend and the comfort of his dog would keep him calm through that, even when Roman hated being awake past eleven. Patton may even find out and tease Virgil about having a heart after all, which Virgil would deny until the end of his days. But his edgy reputation wasn’t what mattered right now.

Instead, Virgil smiled and cuddled closer as Roman slept peacefully.

[cosmicclownboy]

Me finishing something I struggled to write....wow it was actually likely :)

When his father is alive the idea of going to therapy is suffocating. It continues to be throughout his years in the air force until the day it's mandated because by that point everything was suffocating. Waking up. Doing his physio. Simple tasks.Hard tasks. He had survived against all the odds but a part of him felt dead. So a part of him was in this limbo where he always felt like he was dying. The first session he stares at the clock inching the minutes until the clock hand rests on the hour change. The second he stares at the glass of water. By the third session he's exhausted he hasn't slept he still hears the screams and the blast in his mind so he slowly lets the man in not to everything. Not to his dad but to the blast. He was diagnosed with Complex PTSD and he was offered many ways to help with it. He goes to his sessions. He does his physio. Alex slowly builds himself up then he goes back to work.

It goes well for the most part until someone slams a door shut and he has to spend an hour in the bathroom trying to eradicate the weight on his chest and how to stop feeling cold. His therapist offers anti-anxiety medication and whilst he nods his head eyes cloudy he hears his father's words.

"Manes men don't cry it's a sign of weakness. We are soldiers, not Sally's"

He tries different antidepressants settling on one that helps his thoughts slower and that helps him sleep. None of his friends knows it when he heads back to Roswell except Kyle after he's let in on the alien secret and he makes him his doctor in case of shenanigans.

His father dies and he thinks maybe things can be different better in a way he never thought possible. The statue gets put up and he has a panic attack so bad he spends the next two days in bed. It takes him two weeks to think about it really think about it. To face the battle he has to jump right in and the idea of therapy doesn't seem so suffocating any more he's no longer afraid just determined to make strides. With Kyle's help, he finds one that specialises in childhood domestic abuse as well as having experience with veterans. She helps him in ways he didn't think was possible and maybe a year ago the idea of the traffic light method would have had him rolling his eyes or silently repressing whatever emotions he had. But maybe this could be a good thing.

Michael is the first to notice they are on a recon mission together and he's passing across the really good coffee from Bean me up he raises his eyebrows at the sight of an orange bracelet.

"Didn't think you liked orange? expanding the airforce's colour scheme?"

He huffs at that. Who said he didn't like orange?

"My therapist said because of my upbringing and complex PTSD I have a hard time vocalising or communicating my feelings so she suggested a traffic light method. Green is a good day when my emotions are in check. Orange is okay I can manage the day. Red is when-

"everything too much"

"Yeah. On red days I write down everything as to why it's red including my triggers and talk them over with her. It also helps people around me recognise when I'm in that headspace"

Michael shuts his door purses his lips and blows into his own coffee cup.

"I'm glad you're talking to someone"

"Me too. Now, are we gonna recreate a buddy cop movie extraterrestrial style or what? Come on, Guerin don't tell me you don't want to unleash your nerd. This is a safe place"

Michael takes a swig of his own coffee shaking his head before chuckling and taking the wheel. Maybe they share a lot more longing looks then friends would normally. They've just always had a connection under the surface beating and bubbling all on its own.Unspoken and beautiful.

More often then not he wears the orange one. The first time the green bracelet graces his wrist is the day the homeless dog he found slowly offers her belly to be rubbed. Yeah, that day was worthy of a green one. The day Nova finds him and the days that follow which end in his house having a dog bed in pretty much every corner. He might end up replacing his leather couch but who cares it's just a couch. It has nothing on her.

It's only when the days veer closer to the fourth anniversary of that day he truly struggles. Phantom pain comes in waves and he grips every surface he comes in contact with. The days slowly blur together it's a cocktail of depression, sleep deprivation and nightmares that has him on the Tuesday reach for the red bracelet. He finds the Crashdown is a minute from where he is and he's in desperate need for coffee.

Communicating hasn't always been easy for him and Michael especially their fight and flight being fight or fuck over the past decade but they've been trying their hardest to strive to be better to build a foundation. The bracelets were always something Michael immediately sought out every time they were in each other's vicinity. He saunters into the Crashdown buckle first and smooshes himself into the booth without a second thought grabbing one of the menus and seeing what new alien pun food Isobel helped conjure. It isn't until he finishes his order smiling at Liz that he finally looks up to Alex who's completely dissociated. His eyes are dark and sunken his milkshake untouched and he just looks lost. Michael's eyes drift to Alex's fingers noting the tremors before his eyes peer up further and he sees the red bracelet. Michael has a choice at this moment he could leave Alex to it but something in his heart tells him that the days of leaving are behind them. So he slowly reaches for the right hand that tremors and lightly laces the fingers between them. By the time he's halfway through his fries, Alex is more self-aware. He looks to their joined fingers and Michael's mouth completely stuffed with fries and looks softly at him. He doesn't unlace them.

"Want to get out of here?"

They end up in their spot the desert vast and unnerving.

"Did I do the right thing driving us here does it bring up anything we can go back if you want? You never really told any of us what to do on a code red day".

He's right he didn't say to any of them what to do. Truth is anytime Alex usually has one of these days he locks himself in a room and allows every ugly emotion to override him until his body tells him otherwise. Today was a new one in that he wanted connection. He wanted to be with Michael and despite the fear of the unknown he confesses this to Michael.

"It'll be four years Sunday"

"Since your leg?"

Alex nods he doesn't really know how to delve into it the only people who know what happened are the people at the airforce. People don't ask they don't want to know and the people who do aren't worthy of the conversation. Not to mention a lot of his job is classified he can only offer what he can.

"It was meant to be a simple job. Twenty of us in and out.Forty minutes on the dot. I was meant to hack a server. We got to the room we swept the entire place we didn't realise there was a pressure-sensitive bomb until Avril took his foot off. He was the youngest".

Recalling it makes his body shiver his hands shake but he needs to do this.

"Only eight of us made it out. Everyone else had spouses and kids. I had a dad who when I woke up from a two-week coma said I couldn't get blown up right. I didn't understand it. I'm good at compartmentalising stuff it's what he taught me to do my whole life but that day...I felt everything then nothing."

They lay there for a while staring at the stars tracing them with their fingers with one hand lacing the other. There's a light breeze softly swaying in the air Alex softly turns his body to Michael's until they are laying on the side facing one another. 

"I get that feeling"

The confession Michael makes his heart ache and tighten he ushers the cowboy closer his fingers searching for his curls to slowly run his fingers through. Michael ends up the little spoon and judging by the little hum he makes he thinks he doesn't mind a little bit. Michael had the essence of a cat it's one of the many reasons he loves him.

"I know you do"

He pulls Michael tighter resting his head on his curls lightly pecking the crevice of his head.

"I think it's probably why we push each other away so much. I don't want the painful stuff I've been through to trigger or touch your stuff and neither do you so we pick a reason to walk away thinking the other one will be better off. I haven't been better off have you?"

Michael removes himself from his hold much to his disappointment and sitting up because he needs this conversation to be that of what it is a conversation.

"There hasn't been a day you've been gone where I thought that Alex. I'm just sorry for so many things"

"me too"

By the time he makes it to his house Alex is wiped he needs to feed Nova before she barks the house down. He also should really clean his prosthetic liner doesn't want to wind up getting sick. Not to mention taking his pain meds. Trust Michael to recognise all of this and tells him he'll feed her. He wants to argue but his eyes are drifting.

When he wakes up there's a glass of water his pain and anxiety meds on the bedside table and he's trying to remember how the hell he made it to his bed. Last time he checked he KO'd on the sofa as Nova was yipping at Michael's feet.

Michael.

Alex fumbles for his crutch and heads for the living room maybe he shouldn't make a presumption but he's pretty sure he knows his alien from the back of his hand and sure enough, he comes across to Michael and his Nova sharing the couch or Nova dominating both these things as if they are her own. It's the first time in a long time he's slept and he's hoping it's the first of many times he wakes up to Michael in his house. By the time he makes it back to the bedroom, he's staring at the red bracelet on his wrist and the notebook Michael also placed by the pill bottles sticky note on the top with a drawing of a lopsided penny. He spends twenty minutes writing it all down his triggers that day the way he felt all to make sure for his next session he can talk about it continue to make progress. By the time he's put the pen down and taken his anti-anxiety pill, he's greeted by his girl in the zoomies frame of mind.

"Hey, girl. Do you want to play? Give me a minute to put the leg on sweetie and I'll take you to the garden"

He stares at the three bracelets all meaning different things. Today isn't a red bracelet day so he turns to the orange one. It makes the most sense, doesn't it? Today he can manage yet there's something calling him to the green one. Can he go from red to green from a couple of hours? He'll make sure to ask in his next sessions but Nova excitedly barking wanting to play is reason enough for him to tie the green braids to his wrist.

"Do you always feel the need to dramatically lean against doorways".

His Michael senses are tingling he can't decide if it's a loving Michael thing or maybe the whole cosmic alien soulmate thing.

"You're wearing green today".

"Observant too"

He takes the coffee on offer delighting in the way the black bitterness soothes his soul.

"I think today could be a good day. Nova's happy. Plus you and I had an actual conversation which didn't end in tears, fucking or brokeback mountain angst"

Michael's not wearing his hat or his belt he's just leaning against the door frame with bedhead of the ages curls veering in every destination. He wants to run his hands through them and hold him. Fuck it who says he can't. He curls his head into his shoulder much to his surprise and tucks his arm to hold his waist. He feels the chuckle rumble against his ears

"We've had what ten years of it angst is overrated. You know what's underrated?"

"What?"

"Having breakfast. Holding hands. Watching a movie. Being boyfriends"

Alex feels a kiss against his head and peaks up to Michael softly cupping his cheeks he makes sure Alex's eyes are on his not looking away.

"I love you. If you aren't there yet that's okay. I don't want to mess with your recovery. If you don't want to be with me after everything that's okay too. I just want you to know I'm here and I'm not going anywhere"

Alex puts the cup of coffee down and brings his head up so their foreheads touch.

"I love you too".

Alex knows love won't cure everything and being with Michael doesn't mean it's automatically going to be green bracelets all the time. The red bracelet won't cease to exist. He still gets red days. But he does know this. Whatever the day and whatever colour he wears Michael will rub circles into his hand and hold it just the same. Some days he has a depressive episode or an anxiety attack and between his therapist and the people he loves they help him recognise it's okay. It's okay to be loved. It's okay to need and want people. His father's words can stay in the ground with him. Alex is finally content.

[builder051]

Whumptober 2020 day 29: emergency room

powers/no powers, Bucky vs depression storyline

TW for suicidal ideation

_____________________

“Tell me if you feel really bad,” Steve tells Bucky as he tucks him into bed around noon on Sunday.  “I mean... you know.  If your mind feels worse.  Than you just want to be up here by yourself.  I’ll take you out to the farm.  I’ll take you to the hospital.”  Steve gives him a pleading look.

Bucky reluctantly nods.  He lies back against the pillows and pulls the quilt up to his chin.  “I just want to go to sleep,” he whispers.  

Steve nods.  “Ok.  I can stay if you want.  Until you drift off.”

Bucky snakes his arm out reaches for the bottle of quick-acting melatonin on the bedside table.  “I’ll be ok.”  He pops the easy open lid, shakes out two, and tosses them back.  They taste terrible, but he resists making a face.  He deserves disgusting pink tablets.  He deserves the throbbing headache.  He deserves the repetitive thoughts that tell him he’d be better off dead.

“You sure?” Steve asks.

Bucky sets the bottle back down and murmurs, “Yeah.”

“Ok.”  Steve gives him a wan smile.  “I’ll be downstairs.  Yell if you need anything.  Or text.”  He nudges Bucky’s phone closer to the bed.  “Or call.  Whatever you want.”

“Sure...”  Bucky closes his eyes, if only to get Steve to stop talking.

“Come check on you in an hour or two?”

“Fine.”  Bucky hopes he’ll be asleep.

“Alright.”  Steve begins to retreat toward the door.  “It’ll be ok, Buck.  This’ll pass.  I promise.”

“Hm.”  Bucky turns slightly so his ear is buried in the pillow.  He knows he ought to believe Steve.  But he also knows that today isn’t the day for his words to be true.

Bucky drops off quickly, though for how long he has no idea.  He wakes feeling warm and groggy, a thin layer of sweat beading up on the back of his neck and his unshaven upper lip.  Light still streams in around the curtained window, so not too much time seems to have passed, but whether he’s been under for twenty minutes or two hours, it seems to have been enough time for him to spike a fever.

Bucky rolls over onto his stomach, pressing his forehead into a cool spot on the pillow and attempting to breathe in deeply through the barrier of the memory foam swaddled in organic cotton.  He smells a hint of laundry soap, though it’s almost completely overtaken by the scent of his own musk.  He’s spent far too much time in bed lately without letting things air out.  

Bucky’s hit with a wave of disgust that quickly turns to self-hatred.  What is he doing with his life?  He quit his job months ago; he’s bringing no income into the house.  Steve can easily keep them afloat, but when he’s constantly using up sick days and vacation to take care of Bucky, his employment is in danger as well.  And that’s Bucky’s fault.

Steve would be better off without him.  Bucky’s had the thought before, and now it returns with a vengeance.  Steve deserves the opportunity to live without the dead weight of Bucky tied to his side.  

But Bucky can’t live without Steve.  He can’t care for himself; he can’t open his pill bottles with just one hand to work with.  He’d miss his appointments because he either wouldn’t remember or wouldn’t care.  Bucky knows Clint and Laura will always be there and willing to help him out, but Steve’s something else entirely.  Steve is his.  But at the same time, he can’t claim ownership of Steve at all.

Bucky looks around for something to use.  Something to take.  But his heavy-duty meds are all locked up downstairs, and their aren’t any razors or scissors or sharp objects of any kind in the bedroom.  If he goes into the bathroom to look for something, Steve will certainly hear him moving around and come to see what’s going on.  

Bucky’s eyes sweep the room and come to rest on the bottle of melatonin on the bedside table.  It won’t kill him, he knows, but it’s worth a shot.  Maybe he can choke himself on disgusting pink spit,  

Bucky pops the lid and pours the tablets directly into his mouth.  He swallows at them, forcing them whole into his throat where they burn and poke as the muscles squeeze and simultaneously attempt to accept and reject the foreign objects.  He coughs, and several pop back up into his mouth with a splash of mucousy spit.  Bucky grimaces and swallows it all down again.

Suddenly there’s a soft knock on the door, and the knob begins to turn.  Bucky still has the melatonin bottle pressed against his lips as he struggles to down what’s in his mouth and stuck in his throat.  His eyes go wide with panic, and he freezes, unable to force his body to change positions.

“Buck?” Steve says softly, opening the door a crack.  He peers inside, then pauses a moment as if he isn’t sure what he’s taking in.  Then, “What the hell...?”

Bucky tries to swallow again.  Most of the tablets have disintegrated by now, and they run down his throat in a gritty mush that turns his stomach with its medicinal sweetness.  “Um...” he starts, his voice quiet and watery.

“What’re you...?  How many of those did you take?”  Steve rushes forward and pries the bottle out of Bucky’s hand.  He peers inside and gives it a little shake.  

Bucky’s heart pounds, for it’s clear that the thing is mostly empty.  He hadn’t factored in the possibility of getting caught.  It’s not that Steve looks angry; in fact, he just looks concerned; but Bucky’s never felt a stronger urge to stop living and disappear from the face of the earth.

“You took a lot, huh?”  Steve looks at him with wide, worried eyes.  “You don’t... You’re not feeling good, are you?”

Bucky stares at him a second, then slowly shakes his head.  He realizes his hand is trembling, and he balls it into a fist in his lap.  Bucky’s breaths come in shaky, and tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes.

“We need to go,” Steve says softly.  “Ok?”  He sets the melatonin bottle down and reaches for Bucky’s hand.  “It’s not really an attempt, but, like...”

“No,”  Bucky whispers.  His stomach turns, and he gulps.

“I don’t know if I can keep you safe.  And you’re...” Steve uses his other hand to gently cup Bucky’s cheek.  “You’re not feeling so good, are you?”

Bucky slowly shakes his head.  

“I mean... We can call it poison control.  Say you mixed your meds up.  Whatever you want.  I just don’t think you should be at home right now.”

Bucky just stares blankly at him.  “’M not getting dressed,” he mumbles.  His head hurts, and his body feels heavy and uncooperative.  Nausea plays around his jawline and the top of his throat, threatening to connect with his stomach and turn things even nastier than they already are.

“You don’t have to,” Steve assures him.  “Come on.  Let’s go.”  He sweeps back the covers and offers Bucky his arm.  “Just shoes, that’s all you need.”

Bucky shoves his feet into a pair of Birkenstocks and shuffles downstairs, then follows Steve into the garage.  He lets Steve buckle him into the passenger seat like a child, then tips his head back against the headrest.  He catches sight of himself in the rear view mirror, taking in his pallid countenance and dark, nearly bruised-looking eyes.  His lips look red and wet, and the lightest of pink spots bloom above the stubble on his cheeks.  He looks ill, which Bucky supposes works in his favor.

“Ok, here we go.”  Steve starts the car and backs out of the driveway.  “Short drive.”

It’s only about fifteen minutes to the hospital, but for Bucky it feels like an eternity.  His stomach jumps into his throat at every stoplight, and the vibrating motion of the car increases the ache between his eyes.  

“You ok?” Steve asks around the ten minute mark.

“Hm,” Bucky replies, unable to move his head to nod.  It would be a lie anyway, so perhaps it’s better for him to keep his response neutral.

“You’re going grey.”

“Oh.”

“I’m gonna pull over--” Steve starts.  Then, “Fuck.”  Steve signals to change lanes, but a red sports car immediately swerves in front of them from the other direction.  Steve slams on the brakes, and Bucky’s seatbelt clamps down tightly across his stomach and chest.

Without warning, warm and overly sweet fluid begins to pour upward from Bucky’s throat, and before he knows it, his lap is drenched in foamy pink.  Momentarily unsure of what’s happened, Bucky inhales and is left choking and sputtering.

“Hang on a sec.”  Steve brakes again and manages to make it to the shoulder.  He stops the car in a stretch of gravel and immediately throws open his door to sprint around to Bucky’s side.

“Here.”  He helps Bucky lean over as his stomach continues to empty itself.  

When he’s finished, Bucky flops back into his seat, eyes closed and mouth open, panting.

“I wish I had water or something,” Steve says apologetically.  “They’ll have something for you in the ER.”

“Hm.”  Bucky gives a tiny nod.  He keeps breathing deeply as Steve roots around in the glove box for a handful of napkins.  

Once he’s satisfactorily cleaned up, they continue on their way.  “I’m so sorry that happened, Buck,” Steve says.  “I’m sure there’ll be some Zofran.  Some kind of anti-emetic.”

“Do I have to tell them what happened?” Bucky asks in a hoarse whisper.

“You mean the puke?  I’m pretty sure that’s self-explanatory.”  Steve nods to the damp bile-smelling patches on Bucky’s pants.

“Everything else?”   Bucky squeezes his eyes shut again as Steve turns to park the car in the hospital lot.

“That’s up to you,” Steve sighs.  “I don’t want you to lie, but I also don’t want you to have to do anything you don’t want to do.  It’s your choice.  Not mine.”

“Mm.”  Bucky taps his teeth together.  He’s exhausted, perhaps from the melatonin, or perhaps from the events of the day.  “Can I... go to sleep?  Just escape for a while?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly.  “You can tell them you’re tired and want to rest.  I think you’re pretty sick.”  He brushes away stray hairs that Bucky hasn’t even realized are stuck to his clammy forehead.  

“And you’ll, uh, be there?” Bucky asks, a wave of anxiety suddenly washing over him.  “When I wake up?”

“Sure will,” Steve replies.  “I always will, you know.”

“I, uh...”  Bucky stutters.  He swallows hard, unsure if he’s pushing down vomit or emotion.  “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Steve says reaching to take his hand.  “Of course.”

[alluringoneirataxia]

Long Winding Road Stay Strapped My Dude

By: Astoria Cathryn Andromeda

Alrighty, this is a long one boys. So I touched briefly on this in my Welcome to Literally Everything post. No worries I'll recap you, so you don't have to switch back and forth. I just diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and then ADHD when I was 18 years old, and even then I had to fight for it after countless hours of research. See, there seems to be a wee bit of misogyny in the neurodiverse diagnoses. When I say a wee bit, I mean that scientists used to think that only boy could be autistic or ADHD. They only studied autism in males. Fortunately, nowadays we know that girls can be autistic and/or ADHD, but we present the traits differently than boys, and a lot of our traits are played off due to gender roles in society. For example, being overly talkative in girls is called chatty, whereas boys who can't sit still are sent off for testing immediately. This also causes problems for the boys, because little Johnny gets put on Adderall at the ripe age of 6 years old, just because he can't sit still for 8 hours straight, which by the way should not be expected of any elementary school kid, By the time, he's 25 he's 1) completely dependent on amphetamines 2) his body will stop producing dopamine due to being on the medication for so long. Nicht Gut. Generally, boys who are on the spectrum get picked out earlier due to late speaking, or lack of social skills. This is the one thing that girls happen to do better than boys. Girls are good at masking, which is basically taking social traits, phrases, personalities, demeanor, and copying them. In public, they put on a mask and at home, they have a meltdown. Girls are still not picked up as being on the spectrum, because shyness is called being 'ladylike' and 'dainty', and having a meltdown is just because :( girls are oh-so emotional, boohoo. Anyways tons of women do not get diagnosed with autism until they are well into their adulthood, I actually can be considered lucky to have technically still been a teenager when we finally got all the pieces together.

Alright, let's start with I don't know me as a baby. I did not speak until I was 2 years old, and then it was immediately full sentences from then on. I didn't do the babbling thing, which I don't know how impactful that really is to the topic. I was a very shy little girl. I was teeny tiny, we didn't know I if I was going to make it to 5 feet tall until I had a big growth spurt in 7th grade. I am 5'2 now and definitely done growing in case you were wondering, so not that short anymore. I did not like talking to adults, especially strangers, especially men. I did not look anyone in the face, and I will always hide behind my parent's legs when they would try to introduce me to people. I am an only child, and I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I always had seasonal affective disorder, where my grades would dip in the winter. My parents knew I had a timer, they had 45 minutes from the moment they stepped into a restaurant before I would start breaking down. If I got off schedule as a toddler in any form, it was a catastrophe. Or this is what my parents and family tell me. I didn't really notice. I did not like being out in public a lot, I was a very picky eater, and I was extremely hyper. I was a very eccentric child, I only had 1-2 close friends and they were always a very well-liked outgoing girl who I just followed around. Looking back, I don't know how we missed it. I was shy because I didn't understand how social interactions worked, I was anxious about it because I didn't understand, I had sensory overloads, routines, and a very bland diet with a safe food which was ketchup. I put that shit on literally everything, eas, apples, mac and cheese, pizza, all meat, anything something forced me to eat that I did not like. But because I could sit still in class, and because I could zone out and daydream all day through school and still make A's nobody ever flagged me for anything and how I was supposed to know that not everybody just copied other people, scripted things before they talked, and could never pay attention. My mom always required me to be in a sport, and I was a gymnast and a swimmer for a long time, two very high-intensity sports, to help lower my energy levels, and because my mom has mild depression and she knows that exercise does help. Skip to middle school, my mom tells me I'm being bullied at church. It's not that I wasn't observing my surroundings I knew I was being excluded, but I didn't understand vindictive behavior, I thought it was my fault. I had zero friends in 8th grade until I sat down next to a random acqutaince I had gone to school with since I was 4 and the same gymnastics place. Then we were immediately attached at the hip after that. She is my best friend due this day and definitely got me through high school. Led me through so many social situations without either of us knowing. I had a very close friendgroup in highschool, all of them were on the drumline which I met through my best friend, and my first boyfriend was my best friend's neighbor. I ended up playing bass guitar for my high school's indoor drumline, and it was the best experience ever. I love my friends, but I had really bad depression when I was 15-now:) jk It's better. I didn't really realize I was depressed, I just didn't want to go to school, or swim practice, or do anything so of course, my mom noticed, and then once it was pointed out to me it got worse. My severe anxiety spiraled with my depression. Senior year of high school, my boyfriend and I were like toxic star crossed lovers, hurting each other over and over again without meaning to. My friends and I were self harming, all my close friends gad some demon going on. I finally decided to try therapy again after the disaster of being forced to go when I was 15 and the lady told me I wasn't depressed because I had a boyfriend and good grades. It helped a bit, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Then I went away to college and stayed dating my senior high school boyfriend, we were just up and down as always, but with slightly better communication. My freshman year of college I joined a fraternity, a research lab, and my first hs boyfriend/ex/best friend and I went to a Christian campus place. By second semester, I had a lot of people who knew me and talked to me, but I didn't have any close friends, and even less close friends who were girls. All my close friends who were girls were at another college. My parents were worried about me, so they made me rush a sorority, which I knew was never my scene, but my parents made me join and I found a few girls I liked. Soon I was going to 6 classes, fraternity chapter, research lab meetings, christain crash group meetings, soriorty pledge meetings all on every Tuesday. I was different person at each of these events and wore a different mask. I was having what I know now were autistic burnout meltdowns every single day on the phone in my crusty dorm's stairwell. It was not cute. His mental health had always been bad too. Finally I decide I need to try a psychatrist and go back to therapy, and then he broke up with me. Then I made my first close friend, a guy who was in 3 of classes, and I took him to my fraternity's formal, and then coronavirus happened.  Rona kinda saved my grades, and mental health by sending us home event though it did suck. I got on anti-anxiety meds and things went up, but I was still having what I thought were panic attacks, they were austistic meltdowns. My psychiatrist, he's kinda an asshole, he diagnosed me with Obessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. I'll insert definition here: (OCPD) is a personality disorder that's characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. People with OCPD will also feel a severe need to impose their own standards on their outside environment.> Basically hr told me I had rules for everything like how everyone drives on the right side of the road, but nobodythinks about it andwhen I broke one of my rules I got depressed, and when wasn't perfect I got depressed, and when I made an A I was relieved not proud. The diagnosis seemed to fit really well, and my therapist and I started working finding my rules, and getting rid of the bad ones, and making the others less harsh. I had thought every once and in a while in my life when I was really upset, what if I'm on the spectrum, because I just felt so hopeless for social interactions and I didn't understand. I always felt like I was a very specific person, but after the ocpd I started thinking more and more, and I saw a tik tok of a girl with lae diagnosed autism basically describing me and ranting about the misogyny. I did more research and I decide, yea I'mm gonna bring it up to mypsychatrist well he's a dick, so he was like um you don't act like sheldon cooper from the Big Bang theory,and I was like wellI just I have always thought I might have adhd like be neureodiverse, and he was like your grade point average in hs was a 97.8%, you're not adhd. I immediately cried, because I can't handle when anyone says anything in a even a slightest stringent tone. I'm baby, I know lmao. It made me angry though because I felt like he just brushed away all of my struggles I had in my whole life. I spent hours researching and typed up a 47 page document on evidence for why I was on the spectrum, and had my parents help will some of checklists to make sure I was getting outside perspectives. I rally my parents to be my back up and next psychiatrist appointment we actually talk about it and he asked my parents questions about when I was young and such and finally he was okay you're on the spectrum. I felt so validated and like I could start being myself. I slowly got more and more confident, changed my style of clothing, and researched more about adhd pushed to be tested, and oh look at that I also have ADHD. So basically discourse: "I feel like as a child I coded a machine to do life for me so I didn’t get bothered except I didn’t know about the machine I thought i was the machine and now I’ve become self aware and I have to learn how to read the code and rewrite the code because it’s dysfunctional because I’m not functioning well as a human being. I was really shy as a child. I would turn beat red when people talked to me or looked at me so I think I started cookie cutting situations and using them over and over again because they worked until I accidentally hard wired these expansion rules and expectations for myself. I didn’t may attention is class ever I just day dreamed and if I got good grades i wouldn’t be bothered i could just stay in my head and if I did my sport well my parents didn’t bother me. I was never asked if I did my homework I just did it so I wouldn’t be asked and have to deal with that situation. I would cookie cutter situations in class that would draw the least attention to myself.

I feel like i don’t have friends I just fulfill the expectation like a side quest on video games" I wrote this down pre autism confirmation when i just thought I had ocpd. Now I don't directly identify with ocpd, but I definitely think I developed that personality disorder a bit from living with undiagnosed autism. I am linking below the very informative Tik Toks by the lovely Paige on autism in girls. The imposter syndrome one really hit home. I had had so many panic attacks about thinking I tricked people into being my friend, or thinking I was smart.

I highly suggest watching these short tik toks, you'll definitely learn something

https://vm.tiktok.com/wVvcYA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqRRUf/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnqhvX/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqeyYg/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnoE7u/

https://vm.tiktok.com/Kas6gB/

https://vm.tiktok.com/owM9hs/

Imposter syndrome

I am also linking an article about Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory and Autism that explains why my psychiatrist was wrong, and also I am a girl and the spectrum is called a spectrum because it's a fucking spectrum no two autistic people are exactly the same it's like a color wheel.

http://www.autismsupportnetwork.com/news/problem-sheldon-cooper-and-cute-autism-387783

Here is a fun comic about the spectrum and how to view it.

https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/

I am still learning about myself, and how to be me, and how to be myself but without breaking bad social rules. It's quite humorous though because I'll learn something is related to autism and I'm like oh shit again, like still, like, we're still discovering things.

"Tu ne me manques pas"

Bis später,

Astoria.

[beantheanarcat]

I dont typically post things like this on any of my social media but I feel like this is important.

I know a lot of you out there struggle with things like depression, anxiety, PTSD, BPD, etc etc.

And I know people always say "It will get better"

And I know youre just Waiting for it to finally get better, but you still feel like it's an empty sentiment said simply to make you feel better, even if it actually doesnt make you feel better.

I know cause I was always waiting for it to get better. I waited the better part of my life for it to get better. Until I just accepted that it would never get better and I should just learn to deal with it.

But I was wrong.

It did get better.

I didn't think it would.

I thought the best it was gonna get was when I went from being suicidal All the time, to just being suicidal when things were really bad. I thought That was "better". Though I know, if you do or have struggle with suicidal thoughts, it IS a lot better to not feel those so often. But my point is, I thought that was as good as it was gonna get.

I was still depressed and anxious. I was still so Angry. I still had trouble just doing...Life, in general. Life was still really hard. Harder than it shouldve been with the circumstances I was in.

I moved far from my old town, and that sorta helped cause I hated my old town, but that's not what made things better. I got a new doctor, who gave me a new medication (cymbatla, if anyone is wondering), that I've been taking for...5 months now.

And I'm not depressed anymore. Its pretty much just gone. Most days its gone. Every once in awhile I have an off day, but even then its nothing like it was before. My anxiety is still there, but I have more ability to control it. My PTSD is gone. My anger is gone.

Its finally better.

Now I'm not here trying to push pills onto folks. I have seen all sides of medications, good and bad...mostly bad. I know someone who was given various very strong anti psychotics they didnt even need, leaving them with more problems than they had before the medication. I was given welbutrin, which later caused me to attempt suicide - and almost succeed. Ive been given and seen people given meds that made things worse, or just did nothing. Medications are tricky and serious. Id been on so many I figured none would work for me. I only tried cymbalta cause I have chronic pain and its supposed to help with that (which it has.)

But it's gotten better for me now. I'm able to enjoy life, not be so mad. Id given up on it ever getting better, but I was wrong.

So I just want y'all to know, it can still get better. And I mean Really better, Happy better.

And I dont mean you Have to take meds, everyone is different and this is just what worked for me. But theres still something out there for you that will take the pain away. Maybe its a pill, maybe its a new therapy, maybe its a pet, or a game, or a friend, or a book. Who knows. But its out there just waiting for you.

And most importantly...

I know you're trying. And you're doing a good job.

I know it seems like you can never do enough, that you're not trying hard enough, like youre letting everyone down. I know what its like when the people around you just get tired of dealing with you.

But I'm not tired of you.

I see you trying your best every day. No matter how big or small it is.

Youre doing a great job.

Keep going.

[mieczyhale]

a messy explanation of things and unnecessary information about life lately

soooo... right. i’m sorry i haven’t really been around aside from popping in here and there, and that i’ve been taking longer than usual to reply to things / not replying to things at all. it’s NOT that i’m upset with anyone or trying to ignore / avoid anyone, and it’s not that i don’t care / don’t love talking to you (whomstever you may be) i love chatting with y’all and wish i could get myself to reply to things quicker but i do not control the me lmfao honestly my sleep has never had a schedule but in recent weeks it’s kinda been operating like there’s a lil gremlin in my head who spins a wheel and picks my sleeping times at random - and it’s either like.. two hours or most of a day. there hasn’t been a lot of in between so that’s a thing!!

also in a fun added mix of maybe sleep?, missing meds, being stuck in the house more often than not, and the FUCKING EVERYTHING happening in the world right now my mental health is... probably run by the same goblin that runs my sleep schedule lmao consistency whomst?? since the lockdown started the depression has of course been around more but actually, worse than that, is how my anxiety - and by extension: my ocd - have really amped up and i need y’all to know that the struggle is painfully real (and another thing that affects shit like my replies and writing. reading as well. fics have been kinda stressful and that should be illegal. who authorized this?) i don’t hate talking about it but i don’t really like it either?? especially like.. in depth. but i will say there has been crying, screaming, pain!, and i’ve acquired a few physical injuries.

so

yeah

on a personal level - a ‘just me’ level - shit is an even bigger mess than usual lmao but all these things will get better eventually - they always do. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

NOW

ON A PERSONAL LEVEL - THE FULL LEVEL - THINGS.... are pretty great actually! i mean aside from the state of my fucking house e__e but Josh has been working from home for two (2) months now and it’s been really nice - people complaining about their partners being home?? can’t relate. yknow what?? i just might love that tall bastard even more from all this.fuck all y’all miserable fucks

we’ve been going out for drives and we’ve gone fishing and the only place i’ve gone too that’s re-opened is goodwill. because i require.. the shop. they do have a masks required rule! (at least at the one here) and, alongside that, the places we’ve gone that never closed (like grocery stores and the gas station and the hardware store) have social distancing rules and stuff in place which i love. can we keep social distancing after this is all over?? more things here in wisconsin are opening up and we might go to some. idk though. we also might not. either way its still a weird kind of exciting to see things opening back up?? even though i do think we’re not totally in the clear because most of our gov. sucks (our mayor tried to extend our stay-at-home order - keyword there is TRIED. we are the land of cheese, cows, and no fucking braincells for anyone) 

having pets is obviously not a new thing for me but it’s still a thing. so it takes time and effort and energy and patience and love and a certain disregard for your own safety (claws. they really be as sharp as you think) so... it can be stressful, especially cuz we’ve had to keep them inside more as it gets hot out and something keeps breaking our porch screens (our cats are allowed onto our screened in porch or they can go out in a harness but we will never let them run free outside. fuck that noise)  my bbies are all so cute and their personalities and idiosyncrasies are just... *chefs kiss* i love em and they’re definitely a part of what has made quarantine better

i’ve seen my mom a few times, like for my birthday and when she needed help moving Isaiah from one dorm to another and such, but that’s primarily been an option because she has become anti-mask and anti-stay-at-home-order. initially she wasn’t - she gave Isaiah and i fun lil masks since at that time trying to buy them would be impossible and she thought nothing of staying home - but i guess either as its dragged on or as she’s consumed her middle-right wing news that changed s o. she does take social distancing in public very seriously though, so at least there’s that. our favorite coffee shop, where we - pre-lockdown - always went one (1) or two (2) times a week to do art for hours re-opens on monday and that’s one of the few things i’ve truly missed.

josh’s camping trip for this weekend with his friends had to be cancelled because the parks weren’t going to open in time. so today they’re going somewhere to do at least some of the things they would have done if they had gone camping. bikes, bonfires, and cigars. i’m kinda jealous negl but he was really excited about it so mostly i’m happy

trying to figure out how human services was running things during lockdown was rough but thankfully it didn’t take much to get it sorted. mostly because my mom made the phone call i was supposed to lol (the phone anxiety is on its own level) so wednesday afternoon my mom sat with me while i had the appointment with my psychiatrist over speakerphone (which was.. an experience)

ummm.....

OH YEAH! Probably absolutely my favorite thing that’s happened is: WE’RE STARTING THE SEARCH FOR A NEW HOUSE!!!! it doesn’t mean we’re gonna be moving soon or anything, we don’t want to make the same mistake twice (buying the first house you tour that you love) because while it is a great house ultimately it is way too small for us. i mean there’s me and josh, all six cats, and ALL OUR SHIT. listen: i have an entire room dedicated to my various hobbies. and a walk in closet that isn’t big enough. and we both have collections we love and want to display (right now upstairs its hello kitty and downstairs its astronomy and the titanic. and then there’s pop figures, mtg, collectibles, our bottle collection and various knickknacks, etc.) plus all our books! then furniture and cat furniture (i.e towers) and all their shit because they are spoiled babies. and god forbid we ever have a human kid?? yeah. it’s just not big enough. 

so we’re gonna take more time with this choice but what we do know is:: we wanna live out in the country (i’m paranoid and don’t like to be looked at and he loves the outdoors, lived on a farm for awhile. i also enjoy the outdoors but mostly since we moved into this house i’ve struggled with doing anything outside... while we only have one neighbor on our road. but there’s one across the road and one at the other side of our backyard and that’s just too much lol) 

lets see.. um.... my birthday was may 2nd and that was pretty nice, for a pandemic birthday. there’s been a lot of stuff happening involving josh’s family but that’s not something i really wanna get into on here, tho i will say things have been better in recent weeks and it’s been... really nice. josh and i went to his mom’s house the other night and got drunk with her for fun and i actually had a really good time?? and didn’t complain about going?? that’s kinda unheard of.

i don’t have a job anymore - haven’t since early march-ish - and it kinda sucks but also the universe really did me a solid because my choices were either allow myself to work until i have a mental break again or quit. and i was leaning towards quitting (things had been going down hill with the owner and other employees and just the business as a whole for awhile and there’s a limit to the amount of bullshit i can take thanks) but now it doesn’t seem i have to. why do i think i’m jobless? i was barely working anyway, bc of the snow business was slow, and in march i got really sick and stayed home for a week. the day i was supposed to go back i was still sick, and covid19 was starting to become more of a serious situation everywhere, so josh called in for me and explained that between still being sick and my anxiety over covid (asthma + a not so great immune system) i wasn’t going in that day. i never heard from them again. so. 

but it’s all good - there are some options but i’m not looking into them seriously until it’s safe to.

SO

THAT’S ALL OF FUCKING THAT ON THAT

i felt it wouldn’t be a bad idea to come on here and explain A. what’s been going on and B. where i’ve been and C. that if i haven’t responded to you or acknowledged something you sent me / tagged me in it’s literally just because i either forgot to (for all reasons and none) or i don’t have the mental space / energy to. but that doesn’t mean you have to stop talking to me! even if i don’t respond or respond immediately i do read everything and i would die for any one of you fuckers (especially my clowns and the tom hardy movie) 

oh! and just btw - sometimes i don’t get notifications (quelle surprise) tumblr and skype should really pair up and talk about their truly great systems that function so well /s 8| ANYWAY: the best and most reliable ways to get my attention are twitter ( @/mieczyhale) and discord (same name) because i have yet to see their notifications fail. ahem.

i feel like i’m missing things / forgetting things but honestly this post is long enough and also enough of a rambley mess that i’m just gonna try and ignore that feeling and carry on with my goddamn day so i might actually accomplish something. sorry if there’s spelling off or missing words. i’m not taking the time to re-read this and might even delete it bc it’s already giving me anxiety bUT WE’LL SEE ALRIGHT HI AND BYE I LOVE YOU GUYS <3

[thedukedudeinadress]

Godparents - Chapter 4!

Ships: Prinxiety, Logicality

Warnings: Swearing, sucide attempt, sucide

Chapter Four: Roman’s childhood.

———————————————————————

Patton had just left with Thomas & Decie was still asleep so Roman & Virgil decided to sit down in the living room to talk.

“Ro, why didn’t you tell me? You can also feel bad” Virgil was cupping his fiancé’s face in one hand & Roman sighed heavily.

“I- I didn’t want you to worry. You have enough anxiety as it is, I don’t want to worsen it” Roman’s voice was tired & he took the hand Virgil had over his cheek & hugged it with his hands.

“Roman, my anxiety is my problem! You have your own bad feelings & if they happen to trigger my anxiety then that’s my problem, not yours. I want to be able to help you too, okay?” Roman nodded slightly & had to blink back tears. What did he ever do to deserve Virgil? “Now, mind telling me about your childhood?” Roman made a deep sigh before telling Virgil his life story in an whole new perspective from what Virgil had heard before.

———————

The letter was lying at the table next to the bed. Roman sat at the bed & looked at the pills he’d found in the medicine cabinet, read the warnings at the jar & opened it with shaking hands. He was done. He took 2 pills at a time until he collapsed. About 3 days later he woke up in the hospital.

———————

“Roman! Are you done yet? We’re gonna be late!” Roman’s mom, Sue, screamed from the kitchen.

Roman was 12 years old & had recently been dragged out of school because of his depression that had led up to him trying to take his life.

“Coming, mom!” They were going to his psychologist. He hated going there but it was supposed to help.

Roman came down the stairs & walked into the kitchen where his mom stood. After what happened she always made sure to check on him & show how much she care so she instantly gave him a hug.

“Okay, sweetheart, let’s go” Sue said & handed her son a sandwich “you can eat in the car” she said as she put on her jacket. Roman put the sandwich in his mouth & quickly slipped on his shoes & a jacket & than took a big bite of the sandwich & they both walked out to the car.

“Do you wat to listen to some music” Sue asked her son as she slid into the drivers seat.

“Disney songs?”

“If you can find any then yes” she said & Roman started to dig around the CD’s they had in the car & only seconds later he proudly put a CD in the CD player & sang along to the various songs from a whole bunch of different movies. About 5 songs later they arrived at the psychologist office.

“Okay, sweetheart, I know this is hard for you but it’s gonna help, okay?”

“Okay, mom”

———————

“After that I got anti depressants..” Roman’s voice was tired & he clearly tried not to cry “I still take them but another kind. As I’m sure you know, finding the right meds sucks.. it took almost 7 years before I got any that actually worked..” Virgil looked at Roman. What if this amazing guy would’ve actually died there.. where would he be? Dead, probably.

“Ro.. I-“ Virgil blinked back tears & looked ar his fiancé. How could he just keep this from him? Just to spare his feelings... Roman wasn’t even looking at him, he was ashamed of his feelings, of his past.. “Roman, look at me, please” Virgil waited for a moment but Roman didn’t move, slowly tears started rolling down his cheeks & Virgil felt his heart break slightly & he decided to instead move a little closer & hug him. They just sat there for a few minutes before Roman’s raw voice broke the silence.

“That’s not even all that happened.. I-“

“Roman, you don’t need to tell me everything now, I- I’m thankful that you finally told me though” now Roman turned around & looked at Virgil & met his fiancé’s slightly crying face but before he even had the chance to react about it Virgil pulled him closer & kissed his forehead & right that instant Roman broke together & cried for real & Virgil just held him tight.

———————

*WARNING! This part contains death by suicide!*

Roman went into the garage, he was gonna get a screwdriver from his dad so he could fix his toy but as he entered he sam something he wasn’t ready for “M-MOM!” His voice was filled with panic & his mom came running & as she saw it she almost fell backwards. From the roof her husband was hanging in a rope. She looked for a few seconds that feeled like forever before realising her son stood & stared at his dead father & she quickly grabbed him & turned him towards her.

“Honey, stay calm!” She said while grabbing her phone & calling 911. She stressfully talked & only a couple of minutes later there were ambulances outside. Roman sat in the living room & stared straight forward. He couldn’t get that picture out of his head. Obviously he knew what it meant, he was almost 11. His dad was dead.

———————

About 15 minutes later Roman’s raw voice broke the silence again.

“You know my dad took his life” he was still holding close to Virgil, not even looking up a little.

“Yeah”

“I found him” Roman’s voice was so quiet Virgil couldn’t hear him.

“What?” Virgil looked at Roman who was still not looking up.

“I found him” Roman quietly cried out & Virgil felt shivers down his spine & tears sting his eyes.

“Oh- oh, Ro” Virgil hugged Roman even tighter. How much had Roman been trough that he hadn’t told him? & how had he hid that he took anti depressants for 7,5 years of knowing each other? He didn’t have to know now though, right now he just had to be there for him.

———————————————————————

A/N: Oh my fucking god! I hate myself for writing this! Like.. ROMAN, I’M SO FREAKING SORRY! (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

Once again.. how does this tag list thingie work?

[downstvged]

“ oh. uh... you had your eye on that last laffy taffy, too ? ”   awkward. peyton reaches for the candy anyway. his fingertips close around the treat and nudge it closer to the person beside him. “ go for it. my favorite’s banana anyway. ”

or, alternatively : i have zero restraint & ‘tis i, linc, comin’ atchu w/ my third, peyton pellegrino !! resident senior class treasurer & lacrosse co-captain & theatre techie. he’s a wholesome boy but jeez... is new ham gonna break him. dun dun dunnnnNNNN .  ; )

✔ ┊❝ noah centineo. he/him &. cismale ) eighteen year old peyton pellegrino was listening to “no place like home” by marianas trench when the field trip buses turned around. rumor has it he’s on a missing children’s list in delaware & his dad is actually his childhood kidnapper, but who knows if that’s true? what we do know is that their friends describe them as suave & bona fide, even if they’re known to be a little restless & yielding from time to time.

i’m... not gonna do my long intro format for him bc ain’t nobody got time fo dat! and i’m lazy sfhiefh. but here we go !!

( tw: mentions of kidnapping, false death, anxiety, familial deceit )

AMBER ALERT, MILTON PD, DELAWARE —  MILTON TOWN POLICE HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED EIGHTEEN-MONTH-OLD JAMIE CLAVERTON WAS STOLEN FROM HIS MOTHER’S STROLLER IN BRUMBLEY PARK EARLIER TODAY. SUSPECT WAS NOT IDENTIFIED AT THE SCENE. ANYONE WITH INFORMATION IS ENCOURAGED TO CALL POLICE IMMEDIATELY.

spoiler alert : little jamie claverton never quite found his way home. with no witnesses to the kidnapping ( thanks to his mother’s ignorance... yikes ) ,  matthew pellegrino, age 30, was able to make an easy getaway with the child. in 2010, milton police closed jamie’s case. the clavertons, heavy-hearted, buried an empty casket for their lost boy, unaware that he was alive and well just two states away, living comfortably with his “ father ”  in west ham, connecticut.

peyton pellegrino’s mother abandoned her family shortly after peyton’s first birthday –– she’d struggled with postpartum depression & decided she wasn’t made out to be a mother. despite matthew’s pleas, his wife disappeared into the night. and just like that, it was just father and son. us two against the world, peyton’s father would say. they moved around frequently, spending almost each passing birthday in a different place. new york city, boston, miami, chicago, philly. it wasn’t until peyton’s seventh birthday that they finally settled somewhere long-term: phoenix, arizona. and, by the time his tenth birthday rolled around, they hopped across the country once more.

to west ham, connecticut. a dramatic change of pace. matthew had landed the position of fire chief, his record of improving local fire departments finally recognized. so ten-year-old peyton careened into fifth grade, then middle school. he fit right in. and west ham? west ham ate up the pellegrino family story. nobody suspects a thing.

in a hidden compartment locked under matthew’s desk lies the only record of peyton’s past. duplicated fingerprints. forged social security documents. fake passports, just in case. the key’s hidden somewhere in the house. but it’s the two of them, father and son, them two against the world.

and up until now? peyton hasn’t had the means to discover the truth.

peyton pellegrino, aspiring broadway set/lighting engineer:

inspired by “no place like home” by marianas trench.

peyton moved to west ham when he was 10, so i would love some long-term connections for him. his dad’s the fire chief, so he’s definitely... involvedˆin the smell stuff. more on that in the future.

he’s heavily involved in lacrosse, mock trial, theater, & student gov. he’s the senior class treasurer because freshman year, his pals on the lacrosse team joked he had the only face people wouldn’t be mad to hand class dues to. he’s been voted into position ever since.

will be attending eastern connecticut state university for a degree in theatre & theatre design !! he’s SUCH a techie and very unashamed about it, but he will get bashful if he gushes on too long about the importance of a crisp curtain or how much of a difference fading spots can make. he acts as well ( see his excellent performances in mock trial competitions ) but he’s got such a love for framing the stage, making his performers look good. making the visual effects an extension of the story.

works as a pizza delivery boi for one of the local faves — and you best bet this kid makes amazing tips. in the summers, he techs at a bunch of theatre camps and throws in a gig scooping ice cream just for some extra dough. it’s not that his dad doesn’t make good money as fire chief, but they struck a deal that peyton would foot at least half of the bill for college. so he’s trying to getting a jump on that.

one of those rare breeds that is hella involved and seems really relaxed about it? but... he does have anxiety & struggles with panic attacks from time to time. they were really bad when he was around 8 to 11, but they’ve calmed since being here. it’s one of the reasons why matthew looked for a position in such a small, calm town.

sike !!!!!  west ham ain’t calm no more !!!!

speaking of his dad. they’re fuckin’ best friends, alright? saturday nights are reserved for the pellegrino boys. foosball. ping pong. b-rate game shows.

he’s the kind of dude to go out of his way to help you and say it was no sweat. even if it was all the sweat.

if he loves you, watch him lay out his jacket so you don’t have to step in mud.

has a bad habit of nipping at the edge of pens. it’s one of the anxious ticks he hasn’t quite been able to shake. sometimes his right leg bounces, if he’s forced to sit still in one place for too long.

will likely join the committee on going home, if something like that arises. leadership courses through his veins, but peyton’s not really one to pursue it very much. he’s more content to chip in and help everyone else than sit at the top. but if someone close to him ( cough cough, @cvssndra​, cough ) decides to take the reins, he’ll be right there to support.

he eats his pizza rolled around the crust, like an italian taquito.

notable fashion choices include : leather bracelets, cuffed jeans, lots of solid colored and colorblocked tees. when he dresses up for mock trial, the girls kinda swoon. boy looks dashing in a suit. has a glasses prescription but always wears contacts. his dad says he looks sharper that way ( but it’s actually because, with glasses, he looks too similar to the claverton family. )  beat up chuck taylors, kind of untied on purpose. he’s got that whole loosely kept together, sleep deprived look down pat.

in middle school, he did a social studies project on milk carton kids. his project partner said there was this sketch from delaware that kinda looked like him. they both just laughed it off. young peyton came home and told his dad all about it over dinner. his dad laughed. the next day, peyton tried to find the same webpage, and was met with a notice that it had been permanently disbanded.

catch him longboarding around town like an absolute boss.

his favorite gum flavor is juicyfruit. it reminds him of go kart racing with his dad in arizona.

has functional knowledge of asl. he began learning at his school in chicago, and pursued it a bit further in arizona when he learned their next-door neighbor, patricia, was deaf. young peyton would walk the nice lady’s mail up to her door and learn a few signs from her each day, then practice them at dinner with his dad.

i imagine his dad’s reputation makes him fairly well-known around town. it’s likely peyton knows the owners of most businesses around here, so he’s the dude you stick near if ya want free shit.

he knows his dad’s disappointed he’s not pursuing a career in law enforcement or medicine. but peyton barely survived one day of junior firefighter training.

he actually just went back on anti-anxiety meds recently. so that’s gonna be interesting, when that supply starts going bye-bye.

people always assume he’s from cali, because of his overall vibe. his dad says he was actually born in ohio. peyton did a whitepages search in ohio for kenna pellegrino. the search came up empty.

his pals have a running inside joke where they hand him bottles of san pellegrino mineral water. it’s hilarious. and he hates it.

aight cuttin’ it short so i can hop onto this dash!! as always hmu for plots, bants, and good times !!  xx