#though schizotypal is much more obviously

[jackdawandicarus]

My character naming process

My friend @robinsinthesummer did a post like this so now I’m doing one too. Also I’m probably going to put more effort into this than is really necessary but idc.

The first method is just giving them a name that randomly spawns in my brain and fucking haunts my thoughts until a name a character it or create a new character solely to name something that name. The current name haunting my brain is Sidney fwi. I have an OC named it but I don’t really like said character, they are too un-queer. Sidney is a name for the gays. A name-ghost I actually went through with naming the character is Michael for my main project’s protag’s father and Sandy for this little cryptic hunter character I have. Honestly might give her a sister just to name said sister Sidney lol. Or a friend or something. Maybe-

If there’s another character with a name too similar to the current name-ghost (e.g. my *other* potential Sidney, who is very queer, is a main character for my book in which there is already a main character named Kit, I found the start of the names too similar to use Sidney for the character, Sydney might’ve worked but I hate that spelling), I begin an actual active naming process. I think of names with similar sounds and vibes (to continue with my example, Macey or Darcy which have the ending sound which I want for the character), using Behind the Name to assist if necessary. Usually I’ll have around 3 names on the list.

I’ll try to to think about themes, personality, arc, etc. with some more important characters. My protagonist in one of my current projects is named Ophelia. While Ophelia was a name-ghost, I gave it to the character I did because I thought that the meaning of ‘help’ fit for the character (also something something Hamlet something something idk I don’t know shit about Hamlet, I just know Ophelia goes mad and kills herself, which actually fits my Ophelia tbh) because she begins the story very passive, she very much views herself as a supporting character. It also fits as a silent cry for help hidden within her name, she is unable to reach out for help, and attempts to repress her negative emotions. Pretty sure Hamlet also had something to do with it at the time but I’ve genuinely forgotten.

Her sister Casandra’s name was chosen in a similar fashion. Only I know for sure that I named her after the Greek mythological figure of Cassandra. I dropped an S because I like the way it looks like that. Casandra has Schizotypal Personality Disorder, which is a pretty recent addition to her character but I think makes sense with my pre-existing characterisation of her as having ‘magical thinking’, to quote Wikipedia’s page on STPD lol. Cassandra in Greek mythology is obviously most known for being cursed to see the future and have no one believe her (though she’s a personal interest of mine and I could probably tell you everything about her if you asked me to), which is how Casandra perceives herself. I’m still working on figuring out how I’m going to adapt her character now I’ve decided to give her STPD.

There’s also a little (read- pathetic) guy I named Pigeon. They’re my most recent character because I’m tired of not writing about anthropomorphic cats, I’m a Warriors fan goddamn it it is in my blood. Pigeon is named after a bird species which absolutely no one will be able to guess from his name! He’s named after the bird because said bird has this whole tragic ‘used to be a valued pet and working animal and then we abandoned them and call them sky-rats’ thing going on which fits their character arc.

Sometimes I’ll just go to Behind the Name and look through it to find a suitable name though lol. After naming Ophelia and Casandra I needed to name their triplet brother. I literally just looked through the masculine Ancient Greek list on Behind the Name until I found Zopyrus at the very bottom and thought it worked well enough. He dies half way through anyway.

Sometimes I’ll name a character after a real life person I went to Primary school with or something. This is most common with my Sims, though, tbh. I named a character Jessica, but I think that’s literally it for OCs so far

And thus ends my overly long post!

[albatris]

ik this is probably an inappropriate question to ask but i deal with stpd and just recently discovered this. Previously thought it was just depression/anxiety but ive been on like 7 antidepressants/2 of which were more geared towards anxiety. I was wondering if you take any meds or have any advice you might recommend. Id really appreciate it. Im running out of ideas lol.( Sorry to bother and thank you)

nah you’re all good, I don’t have any problem with questions like this n I’m happy to share any experiences of mine that people might find useful!! though in this case idk how much help I’ll be, sorry D:

mostly about meds but my bad for goin on a whole ramble in the middle about therapy?? I talk a lot and have trouble staying on topic

'cause meds n therapy both have been useful to me but both probably would've been pretty useless without the other

under cut for personal rambles

so I was in the same boat as you for several years, I was in treatment for depression and anxiety and then borderline later on, way way way before anyone landed on schizotypal

as such I’ve been obviously dealing with stpd symptoms for basically my whole life but I only got diagnosed early last year n it’s the first time I’ve been. like. actually in any sort of therapy that addresses it properly and I’m still getting a feel for it

in terms of meds, I’ve been on a whole slew of different antidepressants, didn’t find one that worked until I was maybe 18 or 19? so I’ve been on the highest dose mirtazapine since then....... helps with that kinda baseline anxiety background hum, helps with obsessions and guilt spirals..... I didn’t think it did much for depression until I tried coming off it??

like, it gave me a slight boost in terms of energy and motivation, not a huge one, but definitely noticeable once it was gone

but yeah, it was kinda..... yeah, this med is about as helpful as I’m gonna get, so I decided to stick with it. I recently have considered coming off it ‘cause the sedation was a nightmare, but that’s on hold for the time being

I’ve been on two different antipsychotics, first quetiapine, which did absolutely nothing and was even more sedating on top of the mirtazapine, and currently I’m starting on aripiprazole. still on a super low dose, but working up to something that will hopefully ease some psychotic symptoms. side effects of insomnia and nausea but eased off mostly after the first week

but yeah, I haven’t really had much experience with antipsychotics or how helpful they are yet, atm I’m gonna wait and see whether there’s any real positive effects

but meds are super hard to give advice about, ‘cause different ones work for different folks, what works for me might not for you, what works for you might be something I tried and hated, etc etc etc, y’know

honestly the most helpful thing for me has been therapy, I’ve pretty much been in therapy since I was like 5 and I’ve done a lot of it

meds might be helpful to some people on their own but for me I think they would have been mainly useless without some form of therapy

meds kinda helped with some of the “edges” ie, the resulting depression and anxiety of the personality disorder, hopefully will help with some psychotic symptoms too, therapy has also helped with some of these issues on the edges, and I’m currently addressing some of the more specifically schizotypal core issues, although I will likely have to continue doing the work on those issues for most of my life

if you have a good doctor who listens to you, if you want to continue trying out meds then you might still find one that helps you out! I don’t really have a lot of advice here, because the effects can be so different from person to person. but I’ve found that meds only help on a really small scale, they kind of take a little bit of the weight off but it’s still a whole lot of heavy lifting on my own

so therapy was real good for some of that stuff too, skills for easing some of the load. therapy for me involved Other People, but for others it could involve other resources, such as online workbooks n that kind of thing....... ‘cause I know personally for me I fuckin HATE meeting new people and having to bare my soul for them, so therapy gets. interesting

and I know therapy is not realistic for some folks (and also not what this question was about but I’m just rambling now)

n I know especially that that shit gets fucking HARD when any sort of psychosis and paranoia is involved, in terms of stpd, I flat out refused to speak about certain symptoms with professionals due to paranoia and fear, and had a lot of issues trying to come into a therapy environment and immediately having complete strangers be like “ok tell me about what’s up”

like, no???? fuck off?? I don’t even know you??

n until recently all my therapies where only tangentially useful as a schizotypal, like, I did a bunch of social anxiety stuff which helped with some of the surface level day-to-day social anxiety (not so much the more deep-seated stpd social anxiety, that whole “it gets worse the closer you get to people” type, very fun), I did a lot of work around depression and suicidal urges and goals and meaningful living and whatnot, I did DBT which also encompassed a lot of work on interpersonal skills and handling dissociation and paranoia

n like. some of it was helpful? none of it got to the core of the issue or addressed what I really needed to address

I got super lucky with my current psychiatrist in that she was someone I already knew for around a year and a half beforehand ‘cause she helped out in my DBT group therapy. so I was able to get a feel for what kind of person she was beforehand and got to find my feet in trusting her in a more distanced context before entering one on one therapy. she also specialises in personality disorders and was the one who actually diagnosed me so it wasn’t like she was like “oh you’re definitely schizotypal, I’m gonna just pan you off to someone more experienced now” which was nice

she’s also the one who’s helping me out with meds currently

but ya, therapy can be A Lot, ‘specially for schizotypals who tend to isolate and get uncomfy in those vulnerable scenarios. in order to make the most out of it I have to practice an extremely uncomfortable sort of “radical openness” which is like..... well, I’ve spent most of my life being miserable and unhappy and feeling trapped and stuck in these patterns, and this has gotten me nowhere, in order for something to change I need to be radically open about my experiences

which gets HARD because the knee-jerk reaction to paranoia and delusions is often to pull back and isolate, and often I’ve struggled with the idea that it’s not “safe” to speak about certain things or that something bad will happen if I do

so it’s difficult, but I have to continually commit myself to being open and placing myself in intensely uncomfortable scenarios, getting used to the idea of trust being An Action, and practicing trust even when I don’t necessarily Feel It

that’s been a really helpful outlook for me and the only thing that’s kept me involved with therapy and meds and treatment. idk if it’ll be useful to others. I also know that some therapists and psychiatrists are shit and being radically open with the wrong people can be a nightmare

but it’s something that applies in my other relationships too and with my relationship to myself, so. *shrug emoji*

but yeah. that’s been what’s helpful for me

meds do a little bit of the work, but honestly I still have to pull a fuckload of the weight on my own, I kinda got to the point with meds where I was just like “ok this is obviously as good as it’s gonna get” and just stuck with it......... which is kind of a bummer of an answer

ik that kinda turned into a whole unrelated ramble in the middle there but I hope this kinda answers a bit of your question maybe or maybe not ‘cause I don’t really know what I’m doing

but also

I hope you have a nice day

[gayassbagelmom]

A short(but probably long) rant about the beginning of chapter 23 and Thomas’s mental health in general:

Ps: this isn’t proofread and is likely all over the place, blame the ADHD lmao

At the beginning of chapter 23 there’s a scene where 10 year old Thomas is in the hospital waiting room, while his parents and doctor discuss his health. The doctor mentions the Thomas has OCD, that’s the first and biggest problem I have with this chapter. Let me give you all a lesson on psychology. OCD is probably one of the most misunderstood disorders out there. The main problem is people mistake OCD for OCPD. OCPD = obsessive compulsive personality disorder. You may think “okay well what’s the big deal? Aren’t they the same thing” no, they aren’t. In the DSM(diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders), the organize disorders into 5 categories, called axes:

Axis 1: clinical disorders

Axis 2: personality disorders

Axis 3: general medical disorders

Axis 4: psychosocial and environmental factors

Axis 5: the global assessment of functioning

Right now, axes 1 and 2 are the ones we will be focusing on.

OCD is an axis 1, or clinical disorder. Axis 1 disorders tend to be things that more so effect people’s moods or reactions. Examples being anxiety, depression, sleep disorders, eating disorders, and most mood related disorders. Basically, everything but personality disorders and mental retardation. People with these clinical disorders are usally well aware of their Irrational behavior and are distressed by it, actively seeking help.

OCPD is an axis 2, or personality disorders. Axis 2 disorders, as the name suggests, effect a persons personality and life as a whole. Examples being narssistic personlity disorder, mental retardation, antisocial personlity disorders, schizoid and schizotypal personlity disorder, basically, if it’s got “personlity” in the name, it most likely fits into this category. The difference between these and axis 1 disorders is they usally aren’t aware or their irrational behaviors and aren’t particularly upset by them. They usally only seek help due to friends or family

Thomas doesn’t have OCD, he has OCPD. Before I go over the differences between them, let me define two terms:

Ego dystonic: thoughts, impulses, and behaviors that are felt to be repugnant, distressing, or unacceptable with one's self-concept.(OCD)

Ego syntonic: thoughts, impulses, and behaviors that are felt to be natural or acceptable with one’s self-concept.(OCPD)

Okay now the rant like, actually begins. There’s a fuck ton of evidence the supports Thomas having OCPD and NOT OCD. OCD is a disorder charactrized by impulses and cleanliness. People with OCD usally have one or a few specific obsessions, an example being ALWAYS unlocking and relocking your front door three times before leaving, or washing your hands til they’re sore and red. People with OCD are motivated by the idea that some imaginary disaster could happen if they don’t do this. This is why OCD is considered an anxiety disorder. This is also where the fact that it’s a clinical disorder plays a large role. People with OCD actively seek out help, they don’t like the way their impulses effect their lives, OCD is an ego dystonic disorder. OCPD is much different though. Unlike OCD, people with OCPD, don’t have just a couple of rituals. The focus completely on perfectionism and control. They want everything to be orderly and under control, and have a tendency to come off as domineering. People with personlity disorders, don’t view it as a disorder and only seek help due to family and friends openly discussing that they dislike said persons behavior. They don’t view it as unnatural, that is why OCPD is a ego syntonic disorder. Off the bat there’s already a lot more similarities with OCPD symptoms and Thomas’s symptoms. Another fun little tidbit, studies show, a good number of OCPD cases may have developed due to overcontrolling, intrusive and dominating parents. Let’s look back at chapter 23 and I’ll list some example of OCPD behavior

“He had seen other kids his age--ten--scribbling stick figures when they drew, but he wanted his to look perfect. Or else what the hell was the point?” I mean come on, this literally screams obsession with perfection. He finds no interest in something less than perfect and can’t understand why anyone would be different.

“He switched his crayons from red to a black, tucking it back in the cardboard packet in the slot where it belonged.” A subtle but an example of a need for orderliness.

“He hated that there were ugly blue lines slashed through his drawing.” While the context of this scene relates to the lines reminding him of school, they also break the perfect nature of the picture

Some may argue “well if people with OCPD don’t think they’re behavior is so weird, then why is he obviously so bothered by it?” Well see, Thomas isn’t bothered by his OCPD, he’s bothered by his IED. His parents obvious concern is him becoming a surgeon, and dont get me wrong, I don’t wish OCPD upon anyone, but it seems like something 2 asshole parents would for their kid to have. People with OCPD tend to work extremely hard at their jobs, like way too hard, ruins their relationships usally. This whole situation mixed with his IED, just spells disaster. Thomas has absolutely no control in this scenario, he has no say in his medication, his dorm, his school, his studies, etc. to him, it’s not perfect, it’s not exactly how he wants it to be. This also explains why the medication really wasn’t working (and oh boy will I get to the medication part later)

I think I know why Thomas likes cars. He’s in control. To him cars are PERFECT, they’re sleek, shiny, made with no mistakes. When he’s behind the wheel, he has full control over this object that is so incredibly “perfect” he can make it go where he pleases, and go as fast as he pleases.

Now onto the medication part, oh man, fair warning and apologizes, I can already tell I’m going to get heated. Obviously Thomas is 10, so he’s going to have his parents take part in these sort of appointments. But I find it extremely hard to believe Thomas wouldn’t be in there with them. At least in the beginning to disccus any possible side effects. But okay whatever, that’s not even the part that got me mad. So we find out that Thomas is taking 9 medications and is having another one added.

I’m sorry,

What?

There is no way in hell they’re going to prescribe that much medication to a 10 year old. Sure maybe if the kid has fucking cancer, but an IED, OCD(OCPD) and migraines? Hell fucking no. And also they wouldn’t have prescribed the migraine medication “Nurtec” for a 10 year old. This is because the company that makes nurtec doesn’t know if it’s safe for children or not. And If a side effect of the Nurtec was depression, then they would have fucking taken him off of it. ITS LITTERALLY THE MAIN SIDE EFFECTS DOCTORS SAY TO PAY ATTENTION TO!!!!!!!!!!!! And this is assuming that the thing doesn’t even work, because If it did work, why would he be taking 7 other medications????? You’re trying to tell me those are all for OCD and anger mangement? I DONT FUCKING THINK SO. ITS JUST FUCKING UGHHHH THE PARENTS ARE ANNOYING AS FUCK!! PUT YOUR KID IN THERAPY AND STOP COMPARING IT TO A RUPTURED APPENDIX. FUCK THIS HAS ME SO ANGRY. ITS JUST LIKE, NOT ONLY IS THIS WHAT I WANNA GO TO COLLEGE FOR BUT ITS ALSO SHIT IVE EXPERINCED FIRST HAND. IVE BEEN TAKING SOME OF THE EXACT SAME MEDICATION THOMAS HAS SINCE I WAS 12, I KNOW WHAT THE SYSTEM IS LIKE AND THIS AINT IT. Whew sorry about that, I just feel like ranting in all caps can help you calm down a bit faster. Ok I think I’m done, if you read through all this, lol, sorry.

I’m not trying to be mean @the-hamilton-files-author trust me, I don’t expect you to know most of this stuff. It’s a complicated science that I love dearly. Very, very, dearly. :’)

[little-stpd-things]

I’m 24, schizotypal, and have never been in a relationship. I’ve been in all the right environments where others connect, but still failed to myself. Making friends has been difficult for years as well, though not as challenging. Generally speaking, I have a poor understanding of how relationships form. I’ve been told that romantic connections “just happen” but I have trouble understanding that since it never has for me. I’m desperate for hope. “You’ll find someone” isn’t enough. Thoughts?

I'm not sure how late my reply to this is, but I am sorry about how long it's taken.

I had so much trouble making friendships when I went to school, and I basically was alone for the majority of it cause I could barely make or keep friends. What helped me a lot was making friends online. How I did that took a while, but I hung out in group chats about things that I'm interested in, and after a while I ended up becoming very close friends with some people. We went from talking about mutual interests, to joking about that, and than just talking about ourselves and our thoughts.

Basically you have to go through different levels of knowing a person. When you first meet you can talk about things that's appropriate to talk about to a stranger who you have just met. After a while you'll have a better understanding of the person and will be able to talk about the things they like and dislike and etc in more detail. It takes time, but getting to know and care about a person is how you can make friends.

I, for the most part, don't think that romantic relations just happen. I think you fall in love with a person the more you get to know them, obviously not everyone you get to know tho lol

[reyneclaw]

Sorry if this is a bit long, i just came back from my appointment and i'm still upset. Please lmk if discussing meds isnt allowed, i'll delete this part.

So, i made this appointment to get a new prescription for antidepressants. Reported permanent exhaustion, anhedonia, irritability, lack of focus (i used to be a straight A student... the old story), this should meet the criteria for (mild, it got better since quarantine) depression. There's also (social) anxiety, i'm pretty sure this is rejection sensitive dysphoria (what if they don't want me, applies literally everywhere in my life including university, friendships, this forum as well), reported a recent panic attack over the (made-up) possibility a friend might cut ties with me. I have an official diagnosis for both anxiety and depression. Should have been easy. Instead. She wasn't sure what's up with me, suggested additional tests, screenings etc, and even hospitalization (no thanks, i definitely don't need this). Wrote down it possibly might be a neurosis-like form of schizotypal disorder. Now this is a catch-all diagnosis for 'not sure what's wrong with them' in my country, it comes with heavy stigma, it implies more obstacles in legal transition (i'm trans) etc etc, and most importantly it doesn't apply to me. Basically, i'm not a doctor, but it's my job to critically read any kind of academic works, including medical, and this neurosis-like thing is innate (my mental health problems are obviously due to all the stress and emotional abuse at the uni, i didn't have it before), it comes with obsessions, phobias, hypochondria (i don't have any of this) etc. So i just got labelled with something wrong because of... looking weird? I'm also temporarily deaf in my left ear, ofc this looks weird to a stranger, as well as social anxiety, and i only explained this at the end of the appoinment lol. Now about the meds, thankfully i got my prozac, and additionally 50 mg sulpiride. I know it's not clinically approved in the US, so, sorry if this is the wrong place to ask, but i'm really suspicious about taking it and would prefer not to. Even though low-dose sulpiride allegedly works as a stimulant and is supposed to help with studying, and spoons. I still don't trust the thing, or that doctor. So... thank you for reading... i kinda need advice. My idea was to only take prozac which i initially asked for, and forget about the rest... Edit. Idon't see any reason for hospitalization, and i'd be much better off at home, having at least some control over my life. Like, i'm quite 'functional' (don't like this label but even in the doc's opinion), i can study even though with some difficulty, i'm actually working (translations, edits, tutoring etc), i can socialize and live a 'normal' (in their opinion) life, it's just.. exhausting and kind of meaningless and also scary sometimes.

[honeydewhaiku]

I absolutely support self-diagnosis as a necessary and productive process, but just keep in mind almost all of these symptoms overlap with at least one other disorder. Even if you have most of these symptoms, there might be something else that you should be treated for before settling on an ADHD diagnosis (bipolar disorder being a prominent example with a LOT of overlap here). I think people are usually very accurate at knowing something is “different” or “wrong” and keying in on a few of those differences, but it can be hard to get perspective on differential diagnosis and comorbidity on your own. Thus, anytime someone has severe symptoms of any developmental disorder and/or mental illness that greatly impacts their life, I would advise them to seek a professional opinion. The best situation is finding a psychiatrist (or psychologist) who you can trust and collaborating with them to come to a mutual agreement about what the problems are. 

I say that because this list is broad and definitely gets into very transdiagnostic factors like rejection sensitivity (which is actually most pronounced in BPD), memory issues (shared by all mood disorders and also all traumagenic disorders), boundaries/volume control and stimming and others that are obviously autism-like traits, sleep disorders (could go with anything but most characteristic of a bipolar disorder), even reality testing (which is much more characteristic of a psychotic spectrum disorder like schizotypal PD than ADHD). Meanwhile emotion dysregulation and executive dysfunction apply quite broadly to all or almost all mental disorders. It’s pretty interesting to read through though.

Source: I am a psychologist at a major research university, feel free to ask for specific cites and I will be happy to find them.

Here's the ADHD Checklist! I finally made it, it's originally from this post. But I've put it in a more easy to read manner.

Requested by: @partykeet I hope this helps!

If you don't know if you have ADHD or not but have an inkling you might, these are important questions to consider when self diagnosing and researching into the disorder!

Executive Dysfunction

Do you struggle with getting things done?

Do you mean to do it and you don’t?

Do you feel overwhelmed by trying to do it?

Do you forget to do it?

Do you feel like you can’t for whatever reason?

Emotional Dysregulation

Are you often told you’re overemotional?

Are you told you overreact?

Do you feel like you can’t control your emotions?

Do you often go from one emotion to the next?

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD)

Do you react strongly without meaning to?

Do you get really depressed after wearing yourself out?

Do you feel awful after someone’s criticized you?

Do you often spiral when something goes wrong?

Do you feel like you can perk back up when that person asks you what’s wrong?

Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome

Do you have a hard time waking up?

Do you have a hard time going to bed?

Do you have very vivid dreams?

Are you aggressive and irritable when someone wakes you up (for like, school)?

Do you struggle keeping a consistent sleep schedule over vacation or summer break, even on the weekends?

Inattention(Dissociation) and Hyperfocus

Do you often zone out?

Do you daydream?

Do you get disinterested often?

Do you feel like you can multitask (listen to music and read at the same time)?

Do you get so absorbed in something that when you return to reality, hours have passed by?

Hyperfixation and Emotional Hyperarousal

Do you have “obsessions” or things that feel incredibly pleasurable/taste good when you interact with them?

Do you have a loud mind that runs a thousand miles a minute?

Do you feel overwhelmed or stressed out by your mind?

Do you overthink or overanalyze things?

Is your head really foggy or thoughts blurry?

Working Memory, Inattention and Object Permanence

Do you seem to have memory problems?

Like you cant remember something someone told you to do (homework, chores)?

Or you easily lose things, having it just been there?

Do you forget that things exist after having them put away?

Do you forget important things like birthdays, dates and numbers, but remember other “trivial” things?

Do you have a hard time remembering the past or your childhood?

Stimulation and Stimming

Does listening to music help you get things done?

Do you need to watch something while you’re eating and get distracted if you don’t?

Do you feel dissociated or distracted when you can’t listen to music or have your phone out?

Do you constantly fidget, shake your legs, play with parts of things?

Do you feel like if you try to stop fidgeting, you’ll feel an urge to do it more?

Do you have a million phone games?

Do you feel like some games aren’t enough to play on their own but some are too much that you can’t focus on anything else?

"Money Blindness" and Impulsivity

Do you have trouble with money when given control over it?

Do you spend money on things other people find pointless or useless?

Do you have trouble with microtransactions?

Do you feel like when you buy something that you’ll have enough money left for things you need?

Are you often broke? Especially if you claimed that you would save money?

Do you often feel like the consequences of buying something aren't that serious?

Time Blindness

Do you have a hard time keeping track of time?

Do you feel like you’re often late to things?

If not, do you have anxiety, and often panic about the time?

Do you often have a hard time keeping a schedule?

Do people say you have poor time management skills, but no matter what you do, you can’t fix it?

Habits, Executive Dysfunction and Disorganization

Do you have poor hygiene?

Do you struggle to remember to brush your teeth?

Is it hard taking a bath/shower? If so, does it take a long time to get into the bath or shower?

If left to your own devices do you wear the same outfit for days?

Do you often look disheveled despite trying to be organized and clean?

Do you often rub off makeup or have messy hair?

Do you try to be organized but no matter what, you can’t?

Boundaries, RSD, and Volume Control

Do you struggle with boundaries?

Do you have a hard time controlling your volume (either too loud or too quiet)?

Do you feel like you’ve ruined everything when someone tells you that you did something wrong?

Do you think you’ve offended people when you haven't?

Do you have a hard time judging reality correctly (like you think you’ve offended or hurt someone and you feel awful but it didn’t bother them that much)?

Disclaimer: Don't say someone who self diagnoses is faking. If you relate to these questions and symptoms, you definitely are not faking. ADHD is a disability that is incredibly hard to manage. People who have it don't like it as they have likely struggled all their life. Being undiagnosed and unmedicated is damaging and traumatizing. Be kind to people, especially if they don't have access to medical help.

[dybbukdoll]

Schizophrenia Awareness Prompts – Delusions

(Since I didn’t do the introduction; I have Schizotypal Personality Disorder)

My Delusions/Odd Beliefs center around not feeling Real. Not in the same way as Dissociation, which I also get, but more in an... “I'm in the wrong Reality” kind of way. Existing has always felt Weird, and sort of “Wrong” to me. I don't think I belong in this world, and I think people can tell when they look at or interact with me. This has led to a lot of wondering as to which Reality I do belong in, if any. I think my Reality, the one I'm supposed to Exist in, is a lot like Wonderland, or at least similar.

I also have a Belief that people can read my mind and that it (the mind-reading) is strongest when I'm touching someone. A Delusion that has persisted since Childhood, though I don't have as much anxiety about it as I did when I was a kid. But I'm still Careful about what I think in front of other people, and it's led to me having a fairly severe Aversion to being touched, especially by people I'm not familiar with. The Shadows can read my mind the easiest, though, even if they stay at a distance.

It’s also really easy to get me to be believe things that, to normal people, would seem very obviously Fake. For example: I had a friend in high school convinced me that she was a Werewolf. And I really believed her for about a Year, until I started noticing inconsistencies in her Story. (I don’t know if this is a Common Thing among Schizo-spec people, or if I’m just Easily Influenced?)

I don’t like talking about my Delusions much. I know people will think they’re crazy. I tried telling my Mother about people reading my mind once and she looked at me like I was nuts, so I stopped. And overall, I just don’t trust people enough to tell them things about this. I feel like if I talk about it, they’ll try to take it away somehow, and I don’t want that. I’ve become weirdly attached to my Delusions, even though they can get Scary sometimes. But, if you have questions, please feel free to ask.

[cthulhubert]

I've long thought something similar, and Scott Alexander has a really neat little discussion of it in this post: Ontology of Psychiatric Conditions, where he introduced me to the great vocabulary word "Taxonic".

He talks about a couple papers on taxometrics of psychiatric conditions, which have fairly different conclusions.

But like, even Schizophrenia, which really seems like it should be taxonic (I mean, you either have auditory hallucinations or you don't), has related schizotypal diagnoses.

Scott makes a metaphor about the power distribution of wealth (ie, the uber-wealthy may "merely" have a lot more dollars in their net worth than average, but that difference is extreme enough it means they live very different lives from most of humanity). But one I really like is height. If I were to start shrinking, I could quantify eg, how hard it is to shop for clothes, or how frequently I need to use a step stool; but once I'm to a certain point, I need to pay a lot extra for all kinds of specialized or custom clothes or goods, nearly every counter (not specifically built for me) is so high I'd get shoulder RSI without a constantly present stool, etc. I think autism spectrum disorders are this at an extremely high point of "neural precision", and ADHD is probably something similar (though "attention" isn't really a rigorously coherent measure, it's obviously downstream of something more much more specific like reward-center-frontal-lobe-bandwidth or something else that neatly slices reality at a joint we don't even see yet, much like "neural precision" seems to make a lot of ASD symptoms fall into a neat line that we couldn't easily talk about before).

Of course, then there's the comparison with achondroplasia. Among the people who are significantly shorter than average, it's usually because they have some disorder that has shortness among its symptoms, but it also causes other symptoms. I would be willing to bet there's a couple specific disorders that strongly affect our underlying-measure-of-which-"attention"-is-a-roughly-correlated-side-effect, and also cause other problems we see in our ADHD-symptoms-have-a-significant-impact-on-my-quality-of-life people (vs the people that merely could benefit from more use of a "stool"(stimulants). (This also gives us a neat metaphor of people that lose focus or become manic when they take stimulants: people that step on a stool and get clipped in the head by a ceiling fan)).

what are you a truther about re: adhd specifically?

i mean theres just tons and tons of weakly-supported "infomation" about ADHD online. one big thing is like, the whole rejection sensitive dysphoria thing, which seems very weakly evidenced, i can find two studies, both fairly small (one 40 people, one 200, which is much better), but both of those are about emotional dysregulation rather than RSD, and in general it would take a lot to sway me from a model where ADHD is less well understood as anything like a discrete disorder and more just being particularly low on a normal distribution of attention

[starnova-between-two-worlds]

Born this way.

Music: Various Vocaloid songs/some Calum Scott 

All signs, it turns out, point to me having been born with this. 

Yesterday I finally worked up the nerve to ask my dad about what my babyhood was like. Except for snippets in a baby book updated up to age 4, my babyhood is entirely shrouded in mystery. I wanted to know what went on then, if anything at all went on that could have somehow led to this. What happened to make me...a glitch? Did it happen back then? 

It was my dad talking and he likes to idealize things, so I can’t tell how much of it he really told me or how much of it was just tiptoeing around the bush to make things sound normal. After all, he does that for his wife now even though anyone with a brain knows something’s terribly wrong. But in that moment he didn’t really have TOO much reason to lie to me. It was only me and Lightning there. His wife wasn’t there. I expected some glaring incident to stick out at me--something that would make me go “AHA!” and understand everything. The first thing I asked about was how I was nearly miscarried early on into the pregnancy, which I had learned from reading the baby book was a thing that happened. I wondered what his wife had done to cause a near-miscarriage, and what it could’ve done to my developing brain... 

Well, turns out she did nothing. He said even the doctors couldn’t figure out the cause, other than “complications.” My fetus had just decided to attempt suicide for no discernible reason, by the sounds of it. Scary. I almost died when I was still a 21-week-old fetus, for no real reason other than just deciding to jump ship. You take that to bed with you about the blessing of being alive...

I asked why I had to be in the NICU when I was born (which was a screwed-up birth process, it turned out. Maybe that was secretly the “AHA?” The fact that for some reason the doctors had to fucking fight to get me out of the womb because I was stuck in the damn corner? I don’t know, I don’t know enough about conditions that cause prenatal brain damage. More “I’m so fucking glad to be alive” material, though, as I could’ve ended up stuck in there and died). It was just for jaundice. And did they visit me in the NICU? I had a feeling my dad’s wife wouldn’t have visited me because “She couldn’t be bothered.” But no, she did. They both came by every day to hold and feed me. Even my dad’s wife, who by the sounds of it, was either totally normal during my entire babyhood, or was doing a damn good job of pretending to be...

Other than the “your birth was really fucking complicated and you almost died twice” story and being born on the low end of “healthy birth weight” (to think I’d NEVER be a tiny person again), the rest of it was...unremarkable. I sat there listening to how absolutely nothing abnormal or untoward happened during my first three years of life. In fact, the developmental markers were all hit quickly and very early, one after the other in rapid-fire succession. A hyper-processing supercomputer even at that tiny age...figuring words out and succeeding at an early age, walking at 8 months old, tiny sentences 8 months later. For some reason, I always expected to be a slow, delayed baby. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had turned out I didn’t speak a real word until I was 3 years old. To see it marked down that I was talking in sentences by 16 months was a mind-blower. He said my doctor at the time couldn’t figure it out how I was born 6 weeks premature (another “AHA?” Maybe?), yet everything had not only fully developed the way it was supposed to but had developed BEYOND what it was supposed to. 

...So what the hell. 

I obviously didn’t tell my dad the real reason I wanted him to tell me all these stories. I waved it off as “There’s an entire 3 years of my life that’s a complete mystery to me” which is not a lie. The real reason was that I wanted to find the “AHA,” the thing that had happened which had led to this mystery that psychiatric science happens to have a name for, schizotypal. I wanted to see if anything had been done to my poor brain by that narcissist I was at the mercy of for all of my childhood. I wanted to know WHAT HAPPENED.

Only to find out that nothing happened. My babyhood was...well, not typical considering the advanced development, but not anything that pointed to something outside causing this mental illness. When we thought it was BPD, we could pinpoint EXACTLY what would have caused it. But now... 

The symptoms of this particular monster started to show up at around age 3. Dad told me about how they would take me to the park, but I hated other kids and would avoid them like it was an instinct. If one came around, I would hide until they went away. I could understand why. It’s the same reason I don’t like people now: they’re loud, they act weird, they get in my way, and you never fucking know what they’re going to do next. It’s the reason I now wear noise-blockers when in the presence of other people at school. I never liked the two-legged vermin. It sounds as though even my first experiences with social peers were not happy ones. Dad said he ended up having to take me to an old park where nobody else ever came around to, and I had the time of my life, playing with “the dinosaurs” and “Miss Frizzle and the Magic School Bus” and “Flotsam and Jetsam,” Ursula’s two eels who were my favorite characters (can I take a moment to brag that by 4 years old I could pronounce most of the dinosaurs’ names, including things like “baryonyx” and my favorite “parasaurolophus”? I couldn’t SPELL them for shit, but I could say them. Though I remember having trouble with “euoplocephalus” and would call it “euoplocetalus”). 

Now that I think about it, could these have been proto-soulbonds? 

I started fixating on anything with a screen at 3 years old. What can I say? Those screens showed me windows into worlds that even then I felt were so much nicer than this one. I mentioned the Zoogs from Disney Channel in another post. Anyone remember  those little pixelated cyberspace-alien things from the acid-trippy Disney segments in the late 90s? Well, those things were my greatest “friends” back in the day. But people from this world? Those loud, fleshy creatures that only LOOKED just like me? It turns out there was never a moment in time when I didn’t want them the hell away from me. 

This has been going on LONGER than I can remember... 

And we have no discernible reason why. 

Which can only mean one thing: I was born this way. 

Born glitched. Born incompatible. Born into a world in which I just do not belong...and never will. A critical error...

It’s been a day and I still don’t know what the fuck to do with this information. I really don’t. The first thing I did when I got home from school was go directly to Google and not pass go. I slammed “was I born schizotypal” into that Google search like my life depended on it...and I felt very much like it did, at the time. Well, even Google was like “Why the fuck are you asking me that question” and giving me arbitrary links...and then I found two things: a research study on the birth factors behind schizotypal, and a PsychCentral forum post by schizotypals asking eachother when it all started. 

To make a long story short because I really don’t want to type anymore (I’ve been sitting here for a goddamn hour and my feet are getting restless to get up and move)...I was born this way. 

And I still don’t know what to do with this information. All I know is I kinda don’t want to go to school today. Except Edward says that will only make me feel worse... 

And the worst part of all is that this means I could have broken her...

What would you do if your child was born fundamentally cut off from her own world?

[painted-piggy-ships-archive]

I Met You in Autumn, How Ironic, For You Made Me Fall

Michael Myers x Victor

Word Count: 1801

Tag List: @ghostlyvenus @the-schizotypal-cryptid @heavenshipped @fangedwife

Summary: I STARTED THIS ON APRIL 11th AND ONLY FINISHED IT TODAY... Uh, a super self indulgent “how I met Michael” + a bit of slice of life thrown in there, too. Also the pronouns are all over the place (he/they) BECAUSE I did two different writing sessions on it, bare with me shhshsgsgh

Warnings: Non-sexual nudity, murder/death alluded to obviously, wound/blood mentions.

It had been early autumn when Victor and Michael met. The author had returned from getting groceries in the town to his mansion atop a hill, the highest point in the area he lived in. His home was like a dark vulture, peering over the edge and down at the common folk below, with their dainty neighborhoods and lively streets… it was much too big for one person, but he had inherited it from family, and didn’t mind being alone much. No distractions meant successful writing sessions.

As soon as he had set out to put his groceries away, he noticed a broken window. Frowning, Victor followed a muddy, bloody trail to his living area. Slumped against a large bookcase was a large human figure, blood smeared on its navy coveralls, and its face obscured by a pale mask with a blank expression. Anyone else would’ve screamed, ran away, got their phone, something. But Victor paused in the living room entrance and pondered his next move, fascinated by the sheer size of the person before him.

If this stranger was dangerous, they could easily overpower him. But, since they appeared to be injured, maybe they’d be more compliant. He approached the figure slowly.

“Can you hear me?” He asked first. The stranger’s head shot up in acknowledgment, dark eyes locking onto Victor’s form, though they were barely noticeable in the shadow of their mask. “Oh good, you must’ve not hit your head too hard then.”

Victor’s statement was a mix of dry humor and filling the silence.

“Can I help you?” He asked second. The stranger did not move this time, still studying the person before them, body tense as they decided their next action. Victor ventured closer, this time making a hopefully non-threatening reach for the mask. The stranger’s huge hand shot up and grabbed his wrist, holding tight enough to make Victor hiss in pain, though he did not struggle.

“Okay. I won’t touch you, then… but we really ought to check up on any wounds you might have, don’t you think?”

The stranger was bewildered by their inability to strike fear into this seemingly average person. If he really wanted to, he could break their hand… and arm… and maybe the rest of them, too, right then and there. But he was smarter than that. Knowing he was injured, he’d have to allow this person to provide help for the time being… no matter how much he’d rather deal with it himself and get as far away from this place as possible.

The stranger dropped Victor’s wrist, and he promptly began to rub the tender skin in an attempt to soothe the throbbing the seize had caused.

“Quite a grip you’ve got there,” Victor muttered to himself. The stranger began to unbutton his coveralls, inviting Victor’s eyes to a display of both trust and a toned torso dotted with scars from who knows what. The author nodded to themself, taking a breath to clear their mind before rushing off to get a first aid kit. He returned to the now completely naked stranger, save for too tight of briefs, the mask, and muddy, clunky hiking boots. Victor silently questioned how the man removed his jumpsuit without touching the boots, then thought it best not to ask.

He dropped to his knees beside the stranger and began to examine his luscious body, having to remind himself that this was no time to be oggling this injured man… but perhaps later.

“Oh my gods, is that a bullet???” Victor exclaimed upon seeing a glint in the man’s right bicep. He looked into the eyeholes of the stranger’s mask, “I don’t think I’m qualified to remove that.”

The stranger uttered a heaving sigh. He was… bored. Bored! Victor bit back his disbelief, but couldn’t help but stare. The man’s large hand snatched a pair of tweezers from the kit and made the motion to extract the bullet himself, barely giving his host any time to react.

“Don’t-!” Victor tried to warn, but it was much too late. The bullet had been roughly yanked from the flesh, and now the wound gushed crimson blood. Victor ran his hands through his messy black locks, looking distressed. “What’s one more scar, right??”

He hurriedly disinfected and wrapped the bullet wound in gauze, took a few breaths, and continued with his examination. The bullet happened to be the biggest issue, everything else was mostly bruising or small cuts from crashing through Victor’s window.

“Listen, I have no idea what you went through to get to me like this, but as I don’t want to incriminate myself, I won’t ask any questions,” he rambled as he put the medical tools away, “just stay here until you think you’re ready to leave, and… well, I suppose I can’t tell you what to do, but please, don’t come back.”

Victor stood and put the first aid kit away, returning to the living room where the stranger now put his clothes back on. Standing, imposing could not even begin to describe his figure. He was tall, and even with the coveralls hiding his rippling muscles, the strength radiated off of him like toxic smoke, a silent warning, a “don’t fuck with me” pheromone. But he didn’t stay on his feet for long, instead, he crashed down onto the couch.

“Okay. So. Can I get you something, maybe?? Water??” Victor paused, “y’know what, I’ll get you some water.”

~~~

Now it’s been a few months, and Michael, the tall, dark, and intimidating stranger, had become a fairly permanent resident of Victor’s home and life. The two had very separate agendas… at first. As they came to know each other’s quirks and start on the path of trust, Michael revealed Victor’s darker side. Though he never spoke, he got answers to the questions in his mind;

Would his host put up a fight if they knew of his hobby? No, not at all. Sure, they screamed a little at the sight of him after a hunt, but having grown used to his presence, they didn’t put up much of a fuss after that.

And once he found them used to his bloody ways, would they indulge if he brought them a “gift?” The presence of a half-beaten victim disturbed them until he showed them what he wanted done. That was the encounter that seemed to change everything… and Michael quite enjoyed seeing Victor torture the “pets” he brought them. Victor was exactly what he needed. Someone small, and quick, and clever… who could fulfill needs he didn’t know he had.

It’s a summer evening. Michael has returned from a hunt, but Victor is not where he usually would be. Not in the kitchen or the living room, and not even in his study… however, the smell of vanilla candles behind a bathroom door certainly gave him away. Without warning, Michael barged into the bathroom, making his partner jump slightly.

“Oh, it’s just you. Damn near gave me a heart attack…” They slowly sat up slightly in the tub, peering at him over the numerous candles. He closed the door behind him and began to strip the coveralls from his body. Victor waited patiently as piece after piece fell away from Michael’s sculpted body, until he wore nothing but the mask. His hands flexed in a moment of anxiety, a very rare sight.

Finally, he removed the costume mask. It was hard to make out any distinct features in the dim candlelight, but Victor could see an unruly poof of dark curls spilling from the top of his head. They smiled a little to themself before making room for the large man among the foamy water. The murderer slowly slipped into the tub in the space behind Victor, so that the author sat between his muscular legs. Again, without warning or hesitation, Michael pulled Victor flush against his chest, sending some water sloshing over the edge of the tub.

“So straightforward,~” Victor laughed softly as their face burned. When Michael wanted physical contact, it was a wonderful thing, considering the only other way he’d communicate was through body language or gifts. As they laid together, Victor scrubbed the blood off Michael’s hands, much to his discontentment, which he made evident by the nip he gave the back of their neck.

“Sor-ry, you’re the one who got in here with me,” Victor sighed as he dropped the large hand back into the water. The two stayed like this for a bit before Michael decided he no longer enjoyed lounging in, essentially to him, a warm, indoor puddle. He picked Victor up as he clumsily exited the tub, blindly snatched up a towel, and exited the bathroom. He wrapped his partner in the towel and set them on the bed, but he himself was content to be naked and soaked.

In the light of the bedroom lamp, Victor finally got a good look at Michael’s face. It was far more youthful than they were expecting, but hardened. A deep scar went over his right eye, the eye itself having turned pale and blind. Victor found himself getting lost in Michael’s rarely seen features, especially his pouty, rosy lips, and those eyes…

It wasn’t long before Michael was laying on top of him, wanting to be praised for his successful kills. Victor carefully played with his dark curls, and placed feather-light kisses to any skin he could reach. He knew Michael was indifferent to kisses, but would make it known if he wasn’t in the mood, so he was always cautious but gracious with the action. He gently trailed his nails down Michael’s back and the large man shuddered, pressing himself even harder against his partner, practically smothering him.

“Michael,” Victor choked out. For a moment, the murderer did not budge, and Victor felt irritated that he had decided to fall asleep in that moment, but eventually, Michael rolled off of him. Victor gasped for air, slipping his petite hand into Michael’s much larger one without fear of it being crushed. He placed another kiss on his shoulder and tossed the towel from underneath him onto the floor. Michael’s skin was dry, now, but the sheets were drenched with the bathwater he refused to shake off. Victor mentally sighed, he’d change the sheets tomorrow… Michael had settled for the night, so neither of them were likely to budge.

“Goodnight my big, rugged, handsome murder man.~” Victor hummed. He didn’t expect a response, yet, the large man responded with a low, gruff sound that could’ve been “night,” if you strained your hearing hard enough. Victor’s heart fluttered and he turned off the bedside lamp. He knew his partner could make noise if he really wanted to, but he hadn’t expected any words, if that was a word.

[painted-piggy-ships-archive]

I’m Gonna Make This Place Your Home

Wade Wilson x Clarice Blacke

Word Count: 1684

Tag List: @ghostlyvenus @heavenshipped @fangedwife @the-schizotypal-cryptid

Summary: Avulsion X pt. 4; Wade brings Clarice home and makes them his new pet project. No pun intended.

Warnings: Murder and murder mentions, scar and bruise mentions, implied nudity, food mention, brief suggestive comments/humor, Clarice still obviously suffering from Francis’ influence.

“You know, there’s something I must tell you, before you kill me in a blind rage…” Ajax coughed, pinned to the wall by one of Deadpool’s katanas and bleeding out from the bullets in his stomach.

“Start talking,” the mercenary commanded coldly, ready to shoot his torturer in the head.

“Little Avulsion X back there… used to be your curtain mate. Remember?” Ajax chuckled and coughed again, “poor Clarice Blacke… the personification of anxiety, and look at them now. The perfect pet…”

“YOU--!!” Wade Wilson couldn’t even think of words that would hurt the man before him and convey his rage well enough, so he finished him off using more bullets than necessary. With heaving breaths, he retreated to Clarice’s unconscious side.

“I killed him, Clarice,” he panted though he knew they likely couldn’t hear him, “and I’m gonna… shit, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Just know, whatever it is, I’ll want you by my side… I… I won’t let you get hurt again, you didn’t deserve it.”

~~~

The next time I opened my eyes, I was blinded by early orange sunlight streaming through a grimy window. I blinked a few times, my head feeling achy and like someone stuffed my brain full of cotton. Slowly, I sat up, hissing as my stiff muscles protested the movement. Once upright, I took a glance around my surroundings… a mess of a living room.

“Where the fuck am I…?” I murmured to myself, scarcely remembering anything from before I blacked out. I tried to stand but immediately crumbled to the floor with a noticeable thud.

“Clarice??” A familiar voice came from down a nearby hallway as footsteps quickly rushed over to me, “oh fuck, are you alright???”

Strong arms lifted me from the ground and back onto the couch. I pawed vainly at my head, each heartbeat sending a shockwave of pain through it, as my eyes focused on a masked man in a moth-eaten tank-top and sweatpants.

“Headache…” I grumbled, the pain being too much to ask questions or attempt to attack the stranger before me.

“I’ll get you some Advil,” he quickly stood, rambling on, “what a way to wake up, after everything you’ve been through… Clarice, you’ve been passed out for a week! I didn’t want to take you to the doctors because they’d ask too many questions I don’t want to answer right now, or have the answers to, but I was beginning to worry…”

He returned with water and two pills which I took gratefully. I then put a weak hand against his throat in an attempt to intimidate him.

“Who are you? Where am I? And why the hell do you keep calling me Clarice?? Where’s Ajax???”

The man stifled a laugh, easily pulling my hand away.

“Slow down, one at a time! Okay, let’s see, you don’t remember me, that’s a first. I told you to call me Deadpool when we first met, or rather, reunited… but you’d know me better as Wade Wilson. I’d hope. You’re in my apartment. Your name is… was? Clarice. But a human shitstain named Francis made you think your name is Avulsion X. Francis is Ajax, and Ajax is dead. I think that’s everything.”

I stared at this… Wade as I processed his words.

“My master… is dead?”

The man made a frustrated noise.

“Yes your ‘master’ is dead, but stop calling him that! First of all, it’s creepy as shit, second of all you’re free! And third of all, do you really want to spend the rest of your days sounding like an Igor???”

“Who killed him?” My sudden dark tone made the man before me flinch unexpectedly.

“Right, brainwashing doesn’t go away that easily, huh?” He murmured to himself.

“Answer my question.”

“I did. You should thank me. With a kiss, maybe-”

I slapped him across his masked face. “I deserved that…”

“I remember now… what are you going to do to me?? Take me hostage, kill the man who gave me purpose, what’s next???” I asked, distraught. He firmly put his calloused hands on my shoulders.

“I’m going to take care of you. I want to see Clarice again… even if Francis gave you so-called confidence and purpose, at what fucking cost??”

For the first time in two or three years, I began to cry. Fat, silent, tears fell down my cheeks. Wade engulfed me in a tight, warm, sympathetic embrace. I couldn’t describe my feelings in that moment. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted my master back. I was scared. Alone. Without Ajax’s commands… who was I? Why did I feel weak, when normally I could destroy any enemy or roadblock in my path?

“Oh, you poor thing…” Wade murmured, “fuck Francis, fuck Francis…”

When he let go of me, I latched onto him. He didn’t seem to mind, deciding to carry me when he stood and walked to the kitchen.

“I’m going to make you something to eat so… you might want to sit on the counter for a bit. So you don’t get hurt.”

Slowly, I released my grip on his top. He plopped me down on the counter and set to work.

“Don’t you worry too much, alright? We’re gonna get your independence back, you and me, but mostly me in the beginning probably. Everything’s gonna… be okay,” Wade rambled on, hesitating slightly with words he usually couldn’t believe for himself. Still, it seemed he was determined to “help” me. “Hope you like pancakes!”

“What is a pancake??”

“Fuck,” Wade gasped, “Francis really was an inhuman monster! Not just for, y’know, torturing people for superpowers or whatever, BUT FOR NOT INTRODUCING YOU TO ONE OF THE GREATEST BREAKFAST FOODS ON THIS EARTH.”

He calmed himself down, then gestured to the ingredients he had gathered; “Here, you can watch me work my magic to create the legend that is Pancake.”

~~~

The rest of the day was spent eating pancakes off and on as they were the only thing I could keep down, besides water, and being taken care of by the mercenary known as Wade Wilson. He did seem somewhat familiar, mostly his sense of humor, which was both annoying and strangely comforting in the circumstances.

“Bath’s ready!” Wade called from down the hallway. I cautiously followed his voice, peering into his small, yellowed bathroom. “Tell me if it’s too hot or if you need any help or anything,” he told me nonchalantly as he left me to my own devices.

I closed the door behind me and frowned at the tub full of slightly steaming water. I had only ever taken showers back at the base, and typically not alone. The base showers were more akin to a locker room, though I was unsure of how I made that connection. I took off the baggy shirt and pants that had been lent to me, exposing my pale skin to the damp air of the room.

I paused, staring at my body in the mirror. Jagged pink scars covered my torso, and bruises decorated my legs like inkblots. I had no strong opinions about this body; as long as it was fast and strong, what did it matter what it looked like? I thought about how Wade had been wearing a mask the whole morning, yet I was never given one by Ajax. He let his enemies know my face and my predator’s glare. What was the mercenary hiding?

I brushed my fingertips through the clear water in the tub, the warmth being pleasant and inviting. Slowly, I stepped in and sat down, shivering against the new sensations; the smooth water surrounding me, the solid porcelain beneath me. I eased my back against the tiled wall beside me and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and a moment to myself.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but it was long enough for my rest to be interrupted by a concerned Wade.

“Everything alright in here???” He asked, letting himself in.

“I guess I lost track of time,” I murmured, fascinated by my pruned hands.

“... Do you want help??”

I paused. Normally I would’ve snapped, I can take care of myself. But instead, I feverishly offered him the washcloth. He silently kneeled beside the tub, taking the cloth and a bottle of soap, and getting to work. His hands, though weathered from years of unspeakable jobs, were gentle as he handled me.

“Is this a strange occurrence for you, Wilson?” I asked.

“What, having a hottie such as yourself in my bathroom? Not a chance!” He joked, “and typically I’d be in the tub with you if things were different.~”

He playfully scratched my scalp and I involuntarily leaned into the touch. We finished up in the bathroom and he lent me another fresh set of clothes, once again being too big for me.

“We’ll get you some more fitting stuff soon,” He assured me, brushing out my dried hair.

~~~

By the time we had settled down after the bath, I was already beginning to feel tired again.

“Do you want to sleep on the couch again? Or… my bed’s much more comfortable,” Wade offered. I followed him to his room and sat on the bed. An exhausted weight came over me as soon as I sunk into the mattress. I wriggled out of the pants I was given and curled up at the foot of the bed. Wade watched me curiously before climbing into bed himself.

“Er. Goodnight.”

“‘Night, Wilson.”

~~~

Wade couldn’t help but keep at least half of his attention focused on Clarice on the other end of the bed. They had fallen asleep by now, and he desperately wanted to pull them up beside him… but if they were most comfortable down there, he didn’t want to push their boundaries.

This is going to be a long project, Wade. Are you sure you’ll be satisfied with the results?

This is my good deed for the year! If I can’t help them, I’ll wallow in self-loathing for a few weeks and then go back to my regularly scheduled killing people.