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copperbadge · 4 months

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Every so often I get an Anon ask where I'm not entirely comfortable responding in public with no cut or warnings ahead of the text -- it's not that anything inappropriate is being said, it's just sometimes the subject matter's a little rough. This is one of those, so I decided to copy and paste it and put it behind a cut; warnings for discussion of abuse and fraught familial situations.

You've spoken about having ADHD before, and i was wondering if you have any links to websites with resources for adults with ADHD that are more than the very generic "stay organised!", "eat healthily!", "avoid distractions!" things? like, something that explains ADHD and WHY getting organised is good, maybe? or how ADHD may intersect with anxiety? my mother finally went to a doctor and got (as i expected) an ADHD diagnosis, but the doctor told her medication wouldn't give her much at this point, which is fine, but she's just kept going as usual for her, which is not.

she has ignored everything i've told her before (like, to think ahead and prioritise, to make plans, to make lists, that she has to be systematic about it, to stay calm because if she has a plan everything should be done on time) but she ignores me. she just starts doing whatever, whenever, and then getting annoyed/anxious that "nothing" is done, and then she starts yelling at me.

i just want her to realise she MUST at least attempt to be organised, and that it's not just for work stuff, it's for everything, including every day stuff like chores. (also, i'd like to stop being yelled at. like, some of my first memories are of getting yelled at. it's been years and years of regular bouts of screaming. now i know it's her and not me, and i'd. like it to stop)

i apologize for the huge ask/rant, but yeah, do you know of any resources that explain the importance of being organised? i think if i show her something 'official' maybe she'll start doing it. or do you have any personal tips for talking to her about it? or a book about someone's experience with ADHD? anything. anything at all.

So there is...much to unpack here, as the kids say, both in terms of what you are asking directly and what you are not asking but what I'm going to address anyway. I don't have any great resources for what you're looking for, because neurodiversity comes in a lot of shapes and sizes even within a single diagnosis, and as you likely know I'm a big proponent of doing-what-works, and that's something a person has to figure out for themselves. A lot of people seem to find ADDitude very relatable and they are informative, but that's probably the best general resource out there to go deeper than surface, and a good place for her to start reading if she wants to.

But the real problem, Anon, is that she's never going to listen to you.

That seems like a real bold statement, but it is also extremely likely to be true. Most people who get a diagnosis start to work on themselves and learn more about their unique neurology; it's clear she's not going to do that, and you can't make her. I'm sure some of it is that she's been told her entire life, by people with much more power over her than you, to do those things: be organized, make lists, have a plan. They are the hardest things for people with ADHD to do, and she can't simply whip herself through them, and so she learned long ago to ignore anyone saying anything about it. Medication could help with that a lot, actually, so your mother's doctor really fucked you both by telling her it wouldn't do anything for her; whether she's taken that as permission to ignore the problem or whether she just believed him, he did a really shitty thing in doing that.

Your mother is neurologically incapable of forcing herself to do many things that neurotypical people find easy. There are workarounds, yes; some of us do extremely well if we decide that EVERYTHING has to be planned, and behave accordingly. Some of us find stopgaps. But that has to be a decision she makes, to find workarounds for herself. It's not something you can offer her with helpful websites or books, because she is also likely very deep in shame about it, to judge from her other behaviors. That's not your fault, which means it's also not your job to fix it.

And here's the other problem: you are in an abusive home situation where your mother is taking out her frustration with her mental illness by hurting you.

And that really really sucks and I'm really, really sorry. But the screaming-at-you, which absolutely should not be happening, is a result of decades of frustration at the world that won't accommodate her, combined with an inability to regulate her emotions. Unless she is medicated or learns better regulation or at least picks a different target, it's not going to stop. That's not your fault either. Some of it isn't even her fault. (Some of it is; mental illness is not our choice but it is our responsibility, and she is not behaving as either an adult or a parent should in abusing you because she can't find somewhere else to put all her emotions.)

Presumably you are either too young to leave or can't afford to, but the best possible thing you can do for yourself is get out as soon as you can, sever yourself from her financially, and then decide what level of interaction you want with her going forward. Honestly, may be the best thing for her as well, to realize that if she doesn't make a change, she will lose access to her child.

I realize that is almost certainly not immediately possible, however. Do not leave if you are going to a less safe situation, either. Be smart and strategic -- make your plans and prepare as much as possible ahead of time.

"So in the meantime, Sam, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Bearing in mind that we are going to assume you cannot help your mother, as she either doesn't want help or is in denial or both, the best thing you can do if you can't get out is to shore yourself up: remind yourself as regularly as possible that none of this is your fault, and do your best to protect yourself both emotionally and physically. IE, if she's not organized enough to buy groceries or cook, do what you can to make sure you are regularly fed -- do not concern yourself with whether she eats. That's her responsibility, she's a grownup. If you are likely to be yelled at for this -- well, she was always going to yell at you about something; it might as well be as a result of you caring for yourself first. As much as you can, spend time away from her if possible.

Given her past behavior, especially if you are an only child or oldest sibling, you may already be de-facto head of household; this may be simply a process of assuming actively that she can't fulfill that role, and doing what you can to care for yourself and any siblings. If you have other family who understand the situation, I strongly suggest tapping them for help. As much as you can, reach out to adults in your life you trust, and get their help in caring for yourself and your family without needing to depend on her for support.

I don't wish to stigmatize mental illness or addiction but living with someone in denial about the impact of their mental health on those around them is exactly like living with an addict: the best strategy is to expect nothing from them, remind yourself often that you are not to blame for this situation, look out for yourself first and foremost, and get out once you can. I'm really sorry it has to be that way, because it shouldn't be. But I'm concerned with you, not with her, and if you want to build a better life for yourself, it's going to have to be one that doesn't depend on you being able to change someone else.

I'm afraid I don't have a lot of books for you about that, either. I wish you all the luck -- you shouldn't need it, but unfortunately sometimes we still do.

#sam has adhd #mental health #abuse #toxic family

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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so i’ve always been annoyed by the belief that “sam and dean are toxically co-dependent, especially dean!” like it just baffles me once i remember all the times they’ve been apart without one of them being dead (and actually including post swan song to an extent), but i’ve never been able to properly articulate why i think dean at least isn’t really co-dependent on sam. like there’s a difference between being (co)dependent on somebody and dean’s parentification right? thanks!

I'll preface this by saying I am not a medical professional nor have I studied academic literature on codependency in great detail. That said, "codependency" is usually just a buzzword used colloquially to describe people who are obsessed with each other anyway. I address the colloquial use and how Sam is much more unhinged here. I'm guessing the colloquial use is really more what you mean, but if you're looking for something different or a little more specific than that, I can probably write or point you to some other things I've written if you give me something more specific to go on.

That said, there is something about the way fandom talks about "codependency" between Sam and Dean that bothers me, and I think by reading around about codependency today after I got this ask, and finding out that this term is controversial among mental health professionals as well... I finally figured out why.

I think to a lot of people, "codependent" has become synonymous with words like "needy" and "suffocating". However, the WebMD type articles I started with, suggest that the partner of the codependent party is the one whose needs seem to constantly overshadow and outweigh the needs of the codependent partner in the relationship. While the codependent partner can exhibit negative behaviors, the primary problem of the codependent party is that in being a caretaker, they can lose all sense of their identity and boundaries, and don't know who they are outside of being a caretaker for others. However, this is a more modern take on the term. Because these articles I started with mentioned academic controversy, I then found a few academic papers to skim, and this proved to be even more helpful in understanding why I... don't like this term very much.

First, the historical origins of it are... off-putting. The term "codependency" first emerged in academic literature in the 1940s to describe wives with alcoholic husbands who behave as "enablers" [1, 2]. I probably don't have to point out how different things were for women back then, and how rampantly sexist that context makes this first wave of literature sound, but it's discussed extensively in this article. Second, there is more stigma associated with the term partly because Alcoholics Anonymous (shocking /s) latched onto it starting in the 60s and 70s:

The influence of the AA culture in shaping the concept of codependency as an illness offered the idea that people who were close to the substance user were themselves suffering from an illness (O’Briean and Gaborit 1992). These people were viewed as enablers and coalcoholics (Cotton 1979). [ 1 ]

I... think I am probably not the only one who finds that utterly rancid to read (some academics writing on the subject certainly seem to):

According to Gus Napier, a noted family therapist, it is "ridiculous" to label codependency as a disease, because it is a culturally conditioned response of an overfunctioning person in relationship with an underfunctioning person (Meacham, 1990-1991). [2]

Some researchers who have pushed the term "codependency" as a diagnosis have actually suggested that literally anyone who is living with someone with an addiction should be called co-dependent by definition, regardless of any behavior they may exhibit, which tells you a lot about the lack of consensus and how meaningless the term can be [2]. The term (especially within the disease model where codependency itself is a from of addiction) has been criticized by many researchers for the misogyny through which the term originated, for unproductive negative labeling and pathologizing of people (especially women) dealing with incredibly difficult situations with their loved ones, for victim-blaming people (especially women stuck in abusive relationships) for the actions of their partners, for tangentially—negative stereotyping about people with serious addictions, and for conflating addiction with interpersonal problems, and in the extreme case—for suggesting separation from ones family is the solution to addiction and supporting someone with an addiction somehow always enables them [1, 2].

Since the original stream of literature related to addiction, codependency has rebranded and expanded into literature on family experiences with abuse and mental and physical illness. Which is where we get articles like this one I already linked. The codependent party is still a caretaker in these settings, caring for the needs of a loved one who is ill. Still, "codependency" is not an official medical diagnosis (i.e. not in the DSM-5). It's a term that has been used in academic literature by mental health professionals, when trying to describe a range of behaviors within dysfunctional families. These researchers do not agree on the term's meaning or on whether it even is or should be a diagnosis. Many are interested in it only from an interpersonal or personality perspective, which is also where we should stick.

Taking all of this into account though, I think the very first thing we have to ask ourselves is what exactly we get out of using the term "co-dependency" to describe Sam and/or Dean when the term doesn't even really have an agreed-upon meaning. Is the intention to write interesting character analysis, or is the intention to glorify or criticize using a term that has historically stigmatized understandable human reactions to troubled family situations? I think the goal has perhaps too often been the latter.

That said, I've already been referencing it, but I think this article does a good job of summarizing much of the literature, and then actually focusing on people who do choose, of their own accord, to identify with the term "codependent" because it is helpful for them in understanding their own lived experience and their patterns within relationships. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to explore this as it relates to Sam and Dean with the right motivations. If you read the accounts of the respondents who choose to identify with the term, you'll see shades of Sam and Dean I think (I have written something pretty close to the chameleon-self about season 1 Dean, and I can apply that one to Sam too through his attempts to fit in at Stanford). When it comes to my experience with these characters however, I just don't find that I personally see any value in analyzing Sam and Dean through the word "codependent" given it's lack of agreed-upon meaning professionally and colloquially.

It seems to me that the term itself leads to more confusing conversations instead of less confusing ones because of the lack of clear definition, and the potential for negative stereotyping instead of actual edifying analysis is extremely off-putting to me. It just doesn't do anything for me personally. The issues to which it relates I think are interesting (especially parentification which is a term I do find useful), and I think criticisms leveled against the term are also useful to read in understanding ones own struggles with how fandom tends to frame Dean as a caretaker who they believe is actually somehow responsible for everyone else's decisions. But I think that perhaps I prefer words and concepts that are better defined than the muddiness of the term "codependent".

Lastly: Even if I'm not a particular fan of the term, the fact is that the actual show uses the term twice—in season 5 (shoutout to butch--dean's transcript search engine). Once in 5.11 "Sam, Interrupted" (to Dean):

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

First, this dude doesn't really know what's going on and thinks Sam and Dean are having delusions. However, in season 5, Sam's experience with demon blood is repeatedly paralleled with drug or alcohol addiction, and Sam is someone for whom Dean has been made to feel responsible for most of his life. This episode addresses Dean's overly burdensome responsibilities in other ways and it's also come up in the past in 1.12, 2.09, 2.10, and 4.05. I prefer to discuss this theme with much more specific terms. In this case, I would say Dean has an "overactive sense of responsibility to others", originating first with his childhood experiences with parentification. Sam also has a tendency to try and make Dean shoulder responsibility for his decisions when they backfire, and does so multiple times related to the demon blood (4.04, 4.21, 5.05). Cas and Zachariah also both blame Dean for Sam breaking the last seal because he didn't stop him in time (5.01, 5.02) and Bobby criticizes how Dean responds to Sam's addiction (4.22).

And then again in 5.18 "Point of No Return", specifically when Zachariah (my favorite manipulative angel) tries to get Adam to be on his side by basically calling Sam and Dean creepy incestuous weirdos:

ZACHARIAH So you know you can’t trust them, right? You know Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other, right?

This one honestly to me is just Zachariah doing Zachariah things. I'll reach these episodes on my rewatch fairly soon though, so we'll see if I end up talking about it more then.

Bacon, I., McKay, E., Reynolds, F. et al. The Lived Experience of Codependency: an Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis. Int J Ment Health Addiction 18, 754–771 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11469-018-9983-8

Anderson, S. C. (1994). A Critical Analysis of the Concept of Codependency. Social Work, 39(6), 677–685. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23717128

#mail #5.11 #5.18 #parentification #family chains

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lostcitysystem · 3 months

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Finally seeing a mental health professional tomorrow and (hopefully) scheduling an evaluation for a diagnosis of OSDD/DID!! It’s been fucking like two years almost since I first got put on the waiting list and after a year of being promised CBT (which I said didn’t work for me) I can finally start getting therapy that works!!

Cannot describe how much this process has just fucked with my head and made it clear that the UK’s mental health system is fucked up beyond repair. How are you gonna make me wait over a year to see a therapist after I was hospitalised three times in one month and put on an emergency mental health waiting list??

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Anyway, wish us luck!! It’s probably still gonna be a long while before we get an appointment but hopefully they’ll be understanding and actually help me?

-Blue🌌

#blue🌌#osdd 1b #osdd #osdd system #osddid #did #did system #mental health #dissociative identity disorder

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florallylly · 3 months

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finally caved and posted bc i have the most delicious idea ...

those spiderman/deadpool crossovers for steddie but like also following mcu backstories bc i unforch have never read the comics OKAY . be patient with me please

eddie munson as deadpool and steve harrington as morena baccarin's character but set in high school. like maybe after breaking up with nancy and getting beat up by billy, steve goes looking for something to help with the pain (migraines? maybe bc he just got the shit kicked out of him a week ago and he has a hairline fracture from that dumb plate? you decide...). either way, everyone says that eddie munson deals at that picnic table behind the school.

somehow, the two of them end up together. i'm trying to decide between a fwb situation with mutual pining or a whirlwind romance established relationship, but it always ends with eddie munson being diagnosed with cancer.

now this follows the general plot from the deadpool movie with the experimentation/clinical trials for a miracle cure and eddie becomes a mutant (bc deadpool is part of the x-men universe right... i actually have no idea what the correct term for him is. he has powers basically). ALSO, opportunity for a horrible lack of communication. does steve know that eddie has cancer? does he just think that eddie disappeared in the middle of the night? what if he told eddie he loved him and that was when eddie made the decision to go through with the experimental treatment because if there was a possibility to live and stay with steve, he'd do anything to have that.

considering a steve harrington mourning the loss of eddie after he disappears/dies depending on if he's aware of the cancer diagnosis, and not applying for college at all or submitting lackluster applications. his parents don't understand his grief bc they don't know/care that he just lost someone he loved, and he ends up working at scoops with robin.

and robin is great, like platonic soulmates i'm going to spend the rest of my life with you great. she encourages him to get back up and apply to college with her (nyu? to be more canon to spiderman. it could also be indianapolis, but a city either way for a superhero who swings off buildings)

anyways, maybe a year or so passes but the time frame doesn't matter as much as the fact that steve harrington was bitten by a radioactive spider. and now he's spiderman and all of the whatnot that goes into fighting crime and secret identities.

this could also be somewhat canon compliant with stranger things in a steve "why does supernatural shit keep happening to me" harrington way. he got bitten in the russian bunker perhaps? i think it would make most sense for the upside down to be closed off completely after starcourt because hawkins isn't... doesn't make sense to me for deadpool and spiderman to exist in, but also like personal preference.

ugh anyways pls let me know thoughts bc i desperately need someone to talk to about this

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #robin buckley

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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after scrolling through your posts i felt complelled to send an ask (i wonder why)

This kinda? relates to all the languages posts you've been making (was giggling and kicking my feet while reading them, and got inspired) but because I only speak English, I wanted to put a twist on it.

Creator who has audio processing issues and doesn't realise that Teyvat DOES actually speak the same language as them for a good while.

Because as a person with very good hearing, i sure don't fucking understand what people are saying most of the time, especially in big crowds. (its like listening to the sims sometimes man, i'm fighting for my life trying to understand😭)

So imagine a Creator getting dropped into Teyvat and getting found by a group of hunters or treasure horders, who instantly start panicking and talking all at once because 'omg our god is here' and all that.

And the Creator is still confused and diorientated, so all they're hearing is ✨words✨and they just assume that no one in Teyvat will understand them.

And then when they arrive in one of the nations and get to meet the vision bearers for the first time, the Creator makes a thirsty comment about one of them (probably would be Diluc in my case) and the entire crowd just goes SILENT.

So silent that the Creator can perfectlly understand what that vision bearer said in response.

Anyway, i love your blog :) not sure when you're going to get this, time zones are funny, but I hope you like it

Giggling and kicking?? Over my stuff??? 🥺🥺🥺💘💘💘 You sneaky little charmer ✨️

ALSO

AUDIO PROCESSING DISORDER ASK!!!!?????!!!!

IM IN THE MIDDLE OF TRYING TO GET ADHD DIAGNOSIS AND GOT AN APD TEST NOT TOO LONG AGO BC THOUGHT I HAD IT!!

FRIENDO!! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!! ✨️✨️✨️🌸🌸🌸

Have a cookie!! 🤲🍪 tysm for the ask im very very happy to see it!! :D!!

(subliminalmessagingyouwillgoclicktheaskbuttonandsendmeanasksubliminalmessaging)

AHFJDLLAHFAAJSK!! LOSING IT OVER THIS!!

(Me from the future editing: Sorry i wrote an entire sloppy written scenario over this its diluc focused, jfc sorry and i hope u get smth outta it 💀)

Oh good lord you being some kind of Creator god after getting sucked into the goddmn video game world is absolute HELL for your APD

Aint nobody tellin u nothing bc i can totally see that scenario happening bc everyone is like blabbering at you constantly, they all wanna get close to you to talk so its just [insert that general cafe crowd noises here]

Like u wish u had lofi to go with it bc u sure as hell cant get a word in edgewise

I know i keep writing abt Mondstadt, mostly bc first city -> intro to game -> therefore you land there

But i promise ill branch out guys but i got an excuse this time u mentioned Diluc 🔥

Honestly bc u probably arent trying to talk back to them (which they dont rlly know why? Bc they totally have heard ur voice while u were in ur world, when they were ur vessels)

They kinda assumed either A. You lost your voice B. You're overwhelmed, ppl r getting WAY too close to you, back off Npcs C. Or you don't speak THEIR language

So ofc Mondstadt brings you into the city and their planning a big ol festival, u came right in time for Windblume anyway, and by the time your done shaking hands and just waving and smiling (bc what else can u do u cant hear these fuckers, maybe u caught a "the" or a "hello" but you could've definitely been imagining it)

And finally you are free of the general crowd, but most of the Vision bearers (Allogenes) who were ur vessels wanna stick around, so u all end up in Angel's Share somehow

It's hella packed, and it's a bar.

So yeah u still can't hear shit, and now it just sounds like one of those fantasy medieval bar audios ambience videos

Ur just kinda kicking ur feetsies on a bar stool while like,, 4 or 5 differrent special character dishes are sitting in front of you

Diluc's behind the bar, and has been so sweetly attentive to you all evening, no matter how many tipsy patrons come up yelling for refills or drinks (or at least thats what u assume, bc u kinda end up just,, jumping and hitching ur shoulders up and trying to be lowkey about covering ur ears...)

He always comes and refills ur glass when it gets to even half-full, swiping away plates that have gone cold, and if you still want smth off of it, he's so perceptive no language needed bc he just sees your face and starts heating up the plate again with his vision with his hand :)

He's actually been the best thruout all this bc he already isn't super talkative, so ur pretty sure you've only seen his mouth open a few times, but otherwise u just communicated with him via actions/expressions

So ur chilling, well sorta, ur starting to kinda get overstimulated by the day and now this loud ass bar, and the fact that ur convinced no one speaks English here...

But hey!

Diluc's cool, u got food, and maybe u can charade to him u wanna find somewhere to retire to now for the night,,

You try and do that but he's pretty busy running around still,

"Damn, at least I get to see his ass though."

...

Diluc freezes.

You freeze.

Jean, Lisa, Venti, Amber, Kaeya, Rosaria freezes.

The whole bar goes silent.

Their god of gods finally spoke.

Oh they can understand you alright. (Also u were looking right at Diluc when you said it so, kinda obvious who u mean, somebody points to you behind Diluc)

Diluc just kinda,, sputters, like jerkily turns around and everything like a fried robot

"I- ahem- I- um- y-your Grace- I-"

Poor guy.

He doesn't even know what to say 🤷‍♂️

He has been progressively getting closer and closer to his hair color, his cheeks, his neck, his ears its a full white boy flush he cant escape its so obvious (should he say thank you? How do u even begin to thank a god for complimenting ur ass??!!)

He's caught between facing you and turning around and ducking back into the kitchen and never coming out again (unless it's just you two)

...Was it always this hot in here? Or did Diluc do this to you? 😵‍💫

(Well at least it's a lot quieter now)

You take the next logical step in this situation, and gently let your head thud into the bar.

...

It's a tie between Venti and Kaeya who busts out laughing first.

CHRIST ALMIGHTY IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I HOPE TUMBLR MAKES IT "READ MORE" BC I CANT FIND THAT OPTION ON MOBILE

IF U KNOW WHERE THAT BUTTON IS PLS LET A BITCH KNO 😭😩

UPDATE I FIGURED IT OUT FUCK YEAH

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

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the-swift-tricker · 4 months

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well i actually went to the hospital earlier this week after dealing with chronic diarrhea and acute dizziness for the past couple of months and i ended up staying there for two and a half days! turns out i was borderline dangerously low on blood and had to have four blood transfusions! the reason being is there was microscopic bleeding coming through the diarrhea that i didn't know about! anyways after a chest x-ray, a ct scan, multiple tests, and a colonoscopy, i got diagnosed with ulcerative colitis! and while you'd think that would be something to get overwhelmed and feel downtrodden about, i just can't get over the elation of finally getting a diagnosis! cause it turns out that it's also probably the source of the inflammation that's been causing my chronic pain! not what i was expecting to come out of all this but i'm so fucking happy it's unreal

#ulcerative colitis #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #chronic illness #disabled #inflammatory bowel disease #swift-tricker's posts

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painted-bees · 5 months

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"Lacey and Raf brought out the worst in each other" you mention that they snarked about other people and each other. The sketch of them give bad vibes. Was Raf kind of a dick before he met Lacey? Or did he just act like a dick to impress her?

Hm lmao

Before meeting his Uncle, and before his diagnosis, Raf maintained a very...pessimistic opinion of people, and read a lot of negative things into people's behaviors and words. Largely informed by his experiences throughout his childhood. Typically, he kept his thoughts to himself, unless something really triggered a defensive outburst. He didn't engage in gossip out of fear that it'd be used against him. He believed that he ought to be nice/kind to people--for the sake of appearances, to avoid being talked about behind his back, to win trust, and because he would have liked someone to exercise kindness with him. But he himself could (and often would) find a personal slight against him in anything anyone did around him. And he'd keep track of it for himself. It was a score he tallied only for his own reference, and would affect how he interacted with people.

To anyone who knew him better than an acquaintance (which was to say--not many), undiagnosed Raf was a very quiet, very mercurial sort who could occassionally grow very upset, very suddenly, over seemingly nothing at all. To anyone else, he was a charming glad hander who could work and room and was very entertaining to be around, unless he Didn't Like You. In which case, he'd quietly, subtlely shoulder you out of his life, usually via passive aggressive means.

Then he moved to Vancouver, met his Uncle Bill, realized there was something really very wrong with himself, and reluctantly got his formal diagnosis. Around the same time he was diagnosed, he started dating Lacey.

Him and Lacey got on real fast, largely because Lacey seemed to get him. She had come from similar hardships regarding exploitative, controlling parents, and had bucked against them at a much earlier age. She agreed with Raf that everyone was just out to get their pound of flesh from everyone else, and knowing that--made people exhausting to deal with. The two of them bonded over their similar traumatic experiences and their shared bitter outlooks...and they began finding small validation in sharing their thoughts and observations with each other about the world around them--the thoughts and observations that were mean and cruel, that they had kept to themselves up until they found each other. Thoughts and observations that were often based on vibes and gut feelings more than anything that was actually observable. And they'd agree with eachother's negative verdicts and poor opinions, because it felt good.

But--being with someone who tells you just how poorly they think of everyone else...quickly gets you wondering if they think poorly of you, too. Or, at the very least, it makes you want to ensure that you never do anything to win their negative judgment. Avoiding anything that they deem as stupid or tacky or embarrassing, and so forth.

Anyways, therapy ends up being pretty good for Raf, and over the course of two years, he does start curbing these behaviors and monitoring his thoughts more strictly. And as he does this more and more, Lacey finds him more and more annoying to navigate. Raf begins to take on a more mediating voice when it comes to indulging critical/snarky observations and remarks, and Lacey begins to feel like he's kinda turning on her and growing weird and distant. That, as well as a handful of other things, gets them fighting a lot more...and more passionately. They've always had pretty bombastic yelling matches from time to time, but it becomes a near daily occurrence during the final year of their relationship. By the time they break up, Raf has already decided on the kind of person he wants to be, that he doesn't want his PD to be his personality and has been making steady strides towards that goal.

So to answer your question, I am not really sure! He's mentally ill and has been doing his best this whole time.

For that matter, so is she. But Lace wouldn't receive her diagnosis of BPD until finally seeking therapy to deal with the aftermath of her bitterly traumatic relationship with Raf.

#hi-note #Rafael

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youuuimeanmee · 7 months

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RWTGI 34 Thoughts

😆🥰🤗 I've been waiting for Kirishima's past to be translated since forever 😭😭Now I can FINALLY talk about this chapter wkdbjsnsjsjk

Out of all the mysteries presented in this series (the hell's up with Suo Azami, Renji, Yoshino's parents, the brewing yakuza civil war), Kirishima's past is one thing that hyped me up the most; mostly because I've been dying to know the background this insane yet lovable(?) ML lololol.

⚠️ Though the title is Ch 34's Thoughts, I actually started it from ch 33. If you haven't read it then what are you doing here, go to MangaDex if you don't wanna get spoiled here.

⚠️⚠️TW; Bullying, Abuse, Self H4rm, yk how Kirishima is.

👏 Okay! So!

We FINALLY get to see Kirishima's rich ass mommy and daddy 🥳🥳🥳

(tho they don't have a face, I'll take it)

Looks like the parents are busy people, they missed the fact that their son is not normal since birth. That, or Kirishima is just damn good at hiding it. Maybe both.

"My 2 classmates are fighting over irrelevant things. Solution? Erase the thing without anyone knowing. No more things to fight, problem solved 🙂"

He has a shrewd moral compass, I have a feeling he was being genuine when he "helped" his classmates. Aww my cute baby gremlin.

Or if he wasn't being 100% genuine, maybe he tore up the cards to surpress his urges for violence, to ease the boredom he felt because he couldn't feel anything while living in a normal, peaceful life.

The parents slowly realize the abnormal blood that's been there since Gaku era has never disappear from their family.

Since Gaku is the black sheep of the family, Kirishima's dad prob thought: 'Oh fuck this is uncle all over again. No wait I can do this. He already released his energy using a good outlet (karate), he just needs to surround himself with good people. Friends, yeah. The school we picked is the best; surely there's no bad influence that's gonna taint my son. No more psycho #2.' Umm, I hate to break it to you, but daddy-

Ironically, the dad might be the first person who gave him insight about the feeling of having fun by being with a friend. Up until that point, he probably didn't know the feeling he felt when he did the karate. He did it many times, and the dad claimed he liked it, but he never registered it as 'liking something' until it was pointed out to him.

(just like when kirishima threw daggers at yoshino's back until she pointed out he might be jealous of Shoma and he got a little 'ahh that explains it' moment.)

Aww look at that probing eyes, trying to search the answer of his boredom from his dad 🥺

Let's be real Kirishima could really use a proper diagnosis and therapy back then, even right now.

The smile of a child who has found the spark of his life:

LMAO seriously, he smiles because Kodaka can kick hard. The more pleasure (read: pain) he gets from other people, the more he's gonna seek it.

But Kodaka is still weaker than him, so the pleasure ends quickly.

Enter Otogawa.

She's cute. Sweet. More importantly, she's important enough to trigger Kodaka.

She told him all he needed to know about Kodaka. Great in academics, gyms, and karate. Secretly violent too. Just like himself.

"He's just like me, so we matched right? We can be friends! 😃"

Kirishima be like: FUCK YES MORE FRIENDS TO FUCK.

Remember in ch 25.2 when Kirishima told Yoshino he once formed a "friendship plan" that went down the drain?

Whelp, looks like Kodaka is that "friend." We all know how that ends, tho.

Anyways.

Thus, began Kirishima's scheme to ✨️nurture✨️ Kodaka into a person who could kick him harder & also strong enough to not break easily. He befriended (read: flirted) with his crush, lured him into a desolate place, provoked him, stayed docile & easy to kick, yadda yadda.

Really an elaborate plan for someone his age, it's almost cute.

This moment of Kirishima and concealer really highlights his cleverness since he was a kid. If he buys a concealer for his bruise, it's too pricey for his budget. Parents will question unnecessarily if he were caught buying it. Solution? Pretend to return the high schooler's money (even though it's his own) so they'd do the makeup for him. Bruise covered, money covered, no one's gonna know ☺️ Little manipulative shit.

I was gonna feel sorry for him for getting beaten up, but then his innocent, excited smile turned me off so quick. Ugh.

(This is prob the beginning of his exploration to find new "fun" stuff to try. Like choking himself, for example.)

Kirishima is a pathological liar huh. Saying his birthday is in September even though it's in November. This really adds weight to his words earlier that he only revealed his true birthday to Yoshino 🥺🥲

Kirishima's plan to nurture Kodaka is going smoothly in this chapter. Maintaining good relationship with Otogawa, making him jealous and all that.

I bet bringing a 10,000 yen bill is part of the plan too, because kids need the motivation to keep coming back to him. Extorting a broke student is boring afterall.

It's been 300 days since Kodaka had beaten him up? Um. Excuse me what the fuck. With that many injuries, Where are his parents??? Did he ever get questioned at all?? Is Kirishima just that good at lying?? I'm sorry, but I also smell neglection. Intentionally or not.

Moving on, Kirishima is damn good huh. His fights like an adult, prob even better than some yakuza. He's 12. Let that sink in.

(should've seen it coming tbh, but it still surprises me.)

I wanna say he's so disgusting when he ripped the poor dude's ear (where on earth did he learn that?), but he's also my son, so...

Also, the art is so clean. My eyes is blessed, thank you Konishi.

I'm running out of gas. Yeah that's all for today! See you next time 👋

#raise wa tanin ga ii #rwtgi #rwtgi ch 33 #rwtgi ch 34 #miyama kirishima #rwtgi meta #rwtgi analysis #tw abuse #tw bullying #tw self h4rm

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folklorianhaze · 1 year

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I’m 27 years old but idk man, sometimes I still feel so behind everyone else my age. Three years ago, I felt like I was finally making progress in terms of my social anxiety, OCD diagnosis, depression and getting on a birth control pill that didn’t make me feel like absolute ass. But then the pandemic came and now I feel like three years of my life have been stolen by one of the Fae and I’ve just been desperately playing catch-up ever since.

And during that stolen time, I slowly began to unmask and figure out who I actually am beneath the constant shutting my mouth to appease others and it led to me getting an autism diagnosis in my mid-twenties. That means I spent two whole decades on this planet living my life and feeling like I was some kind of freak or alien, never understanding why just existing came so easily to everyone around me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that I finally figured this out! I’ve started accommodating myself and learning to get the support for myself I never got in my childhood and that has been so healing.

But there’s another part of me that feels lost and doesn’t know how to go back to real life anymore. I don’t think I can go back to the way things used to work. I think that I masked really heavily and really well as a child; I was always the old soul, too mature for her age, delighted when I could make an adult laugh or engage in conversation with my teachers like they were my friends. I wanted more than anything to grow up and be taken seriously.

But now that I’m older, I feel like I’m still trying to wear the same mask, only I’ve outgrown it. What worked for a little kid pretending to be grown-up doesn’t work for an actual adult. I don’t know how to build an adult mask, so I come across as younger than my age and I always feel like the baby of my friend group. Half the time I feel so lost and like I have no idea what I’m doing. People keep telling me that’s normal for everyone my age but I still can’t help but feel out of place.

Anyway, this is long and rambling and I’m not sure it really has a point. Suffice it to say I’m relating a lot to this is me trying lately 😅

#dany’s personal tag #adult autistic #afab autistic #late diagnosed autistic

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madsworld15 · 20 days

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I Am Still Here Part 1

This fic is something that I came up with during conversations with @winderlylandchime about AU fic ideas. I am still working on Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me but I needed a break for a tick.

So, instead, I am writing an AU fic where Justin is 21 and Brian is 33, and they meet when their support groups have to combine one night due to a lack of group leaders. Justin has PTSD from a bashing 6 months prior. And Brian's cancer diagnosis isn't so cut and dry, so he is depressed about his odds. Anyway, here is part 1.

Word Count: 3,372

“So, what are you in for?” A bored yet sultry voice whispered from Justin’s left as he sat a bit back from the circle of people.

He turned and almost lost his breath at the sight before him. At 21 Justin had been around the block a time or two when it came to dating men. He’d discovered his sexuality while still in high school and had run the gambit of one-night stands, quick, anonymous fucks, and boyfriends – both casual and serious. But, never before had he seen a man as gorgeous as the one speaking to him now. With a sharp jawline, a lean but still fit body, and bedroom eyes that could make even a monk forget his religious vows of celibacy, this man was the literal definition of sex on a stick.

“I’m sorry?” Justin asked, his brain had short-circuited and thus been unable to process what had been said.

“This,” The man motioned his arm to the room before them. “What brings you here? You don’t look like you have cancer. So it’s either grief or whatever the fuck the other one was they decided to throw into the pot today.”

Justin sucked his lips between his teeth to hide the chuckle that threatened to come out. He could already tell he was going to like this man. He had a laissez-faire attitude that harbored a level of no-bullshit Justin could get behind.

“PTSD.” Justin quirked his eyebrow. “Guess I’m lucky number three. I wondered why I hadn’t seen you here before. Then again, it’s only my second time coming.”

“And already you have decided to stay away from the class.” The man smirked, which somehow made him even hotter.

Justin finally took stock of his well-styled brunette hair. It was styled to look like the man actually didn’t give a shit about it, which left some strands at the front spiked up while the rest lay flat. Judging by his designer, albeit casual, attire, this man never let anyone see him without first spending an hour in the bathroom on his appearance.

Justin shrugged, “I don’t like groups.”

“I tried to say that to Lindsay. I told her, ‘Fuck Groups!’ and she replied with a quip about how she thought I did.” the man slid down in his chair, spreading his legs out in front of him. “Do you think they’ll notice if we just duck out?”

Justin silently wondered who Lindsay was. At first, he thought maybe the man was married to her or something, but then he made a sex joke about groups. Now, Justin was even more confused.

“Jessica is the group leader for my typical support group, and she has eyes like a hawk. If she feels you are itching to leave, she will force you to talk.” Justin whispered out of the side of his mouth, having noticed that Jessica’s eyes were now on him.

“Justin. You didn’t share much with us last week. Why not try again?” Jessica’s voice was that fake sweet that made Justin angry.

“What makes you think adding more people to the mix will make me more willing to share? Yes, more eyes to stare at the poor fag who got his ass beat so bad he’s scared of his own shadow.” Justin hadn’t realized he had clenched his hands into fists or that he was breathing heavily until the brunette man’s hand landed on top of his left fist.

Without a word, the brunette rubbed Justin’s knuckles until he released his grip. Then, shocking those in the group who must typically spend an hour once a week with the brunette, he decided to speak.

“I’m Brian. Today was my third dose of radiation. The doctor told me it wouldn’t be a picnic, but did he really have to act like he enjoyed it? I mean fuck, my balls are on fire, and my stomach makes me vomit almost every thirty minutes. And don’t get me started on how much my body just hurts.”

“Thank you for sharing, Brian.” Jessica’s saccharin voice floated out, causing Justin to look up. “Would anyone like to share words of encouragement with Brian?”

Brian coughed and abruptly stood up, dragging Justin up with him. “Yeah, nope. I’m out. I came, and not in the way I’d prefer. I shared. And now I’m leaving.”

Without another glance toward the rest of the people in attendance, Brian dragged Justin toward the door and out into the cool night air. The minute the doors were closed, Brian dropped Justin’s hand, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one up. He inhaled and then handed it over to Justin, who shook his head.

“Don’t you have cancer?” Justin looked at the man incredulously.

“Yeah, but it’s in my balls, not my lungs.” Brian took another deep inhale as if to prove a point. Justin shook his head. He could already feel his heart falling for the older man named Brian.

“If you didn’t want support from others, then why do you go to a support group?” Justin stared at the man before him. There was an air of mystery about him. He was definitely older than Justin, but beyond that and his looks, Justin needed more.

“Trust me, it was the tidier of my two options.” Brian licked his lips and offered the cigarette to Justin once more. This time, he took it.

“According to my best friends and Debbie, I could either seek ‘help’ or face their unrelenting wrath.” Brian put quotations around the word help, further convincing Justin that he didn’t believe in therapy.

“If they are anything like my mother, I can completely understand why you’d opt to go somewhere you despise,” Justin commented, handing back the cigarette.

“You want to get out of here?” Brian stubbed out the cigarette and quirked his eyebrow at Justin. “I could use a drink.”

Justin knew he should hesitate; to not allow this perfect stranger to lead him to one of his unsafe spaces, but Brian’s eyes were convincing. So, instead, he motioned as if giving Brian permission to lead the way. As they walked, he pulled out his flip phone and saw a text message from Daphne.

From: Daphne 7:45 pm

Your mom told me about group. I’m proud of you. Come by after, we can drink and talk.

Justin shook his head and rolled his eyes. He would not be going by Daphne’s “after this” because it would be just like going to his goddamn psychiatrist. Daphne was studying psychiatry and felt the need to constantly practice on him. Or at least, she had for the past six months since that night.

Brian must’ve noticed him pull out his phone because he slowed down his pace to get in line with him. Once they were side by side, the older man gently nudged Justin’s shoulder with his own.

“You have somewhere else you need to be?” Brian lifted an eyebrow in question.

Justin shoved his phone back into his pocket. “No. Daphne just wants to psychoanalyze me.”

Brian didn’t reply, but he did fix Justin with a questioning look. Justin went back and forth in his head for a bit before he decided he felt comfortable enough sharing with this man he barely knew.

“My best friend. She’s currently studying to be a psychiatrist. She offered for me to come over for drinks and a chat, but I know it’ll end up sounding more like therapy.” Justin stared at his feet as he scuffed them along the pavement, kicking a pebble of cement that had broken free.

Brian simply nodded and let the matter drop. Justin greatly appreciated that about him. They continued to walk. Justin didn’t realize where they were going until it was almost right upon them. One glance toward the bars of Liberty Avenue and Justin’s breath caught in his lungs. He leaned over, unable to take in anything more than short, shallow breaths. His vision started to swim when a firm hand landed gently on his shoulder.

Through the fog, sounding like he was underwater, a feeling Justin was extremely familiar with at this point, he heard Brian trying to talk to him.

“Justin. Take a deep breath. Can you walk?”

Justin felt his chest tighten even more, and he shook his head. Or at least he thought he did. Based on the panic in Brian’s voice, he must not have moved at all.

“Justin. Please, just breathe. Close your eyes and think of your safe space. Once you are ready, we can leave.”

Justin’s brain felt like it had sand in it, but he could still hear each time Brian started his litany of reassurances over again. They must’ve stood there, with Brian’s hand barely on his shoulder, grounding him, for a good ten minutes before the panic in his chest subsided. Justin’s vision came back, and the first thing he noticed was the surly appearance of Brian had switched into one more vulnerable and freaked out.

“I’m sorry.” Justin stood up completely and shook out his limbs. After a panic attack, they always felt like lead for a few minutes after.

“Apologies are bullshit.” Brian shrugged, putting a wall back up. His face was stony once more, which oddly enough soothed Justin further. This man wasn’t about to baby him, and for that, he was grateful.

“I could really use a drink.” Justin released a breathy chuckle as he made eye contact with Brian.

“I know a place that is a little less scary than Liberty Avenue,” Brian suggested.

“Is it public?” Justin’s voice came out small and timid, which he could beat himself for, but with his body still recovering from his panic attack, he didn’t have the strength for it.

“Not exactly.” Brian drew out his words but immediately reassured Justin, “It’s my friend Emmett’s place. He hosts private parties there most nights, but he takes Thursdays off. I can always count on him for alcohol and a judgment-free zone.”

“If he takes Thursdays off, how do you know he will be there?” Justin questioned, still not entirely sure this option sounded any more safe.

Brian pulled out his phone, one of those fancy ones people with money had, and pushed a few buttons.

“Hey, Em. I need a drink. Can I swing by tonight?” Brian spoke into his device.

He must’ve heard what he wanted because a moment later, he pushed a button to end the call and looked at Justin with a smile on his face.

“We’re good. Let’s go.” Brian gently grabbed the lapel of Justin’s jacket and pulled him toward one of the side streets, away from Liberty Avenue.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a brick building. The lights of the first floor were all on and a sign over the door read: Milk and Honey. Justin glanced over at Brian, his eyebrow lifted in question. Brian smirked and shook his head.

“Emmett is one of my closest friends and Pittsburgh’s greatest party planner.” Brian knocked on the door without any further preamble or explanation.

“Bri!” A tall, overly skinny man with auburn hair styled wildly opened the door with a grin that lit up the night street. “I was just about to close up when you called. Inventory day is no joke.”

“Hey, Em. This is Justin. We met at support group and then bailed on support group.” Brian shrugged and wrapped his friend up in a moment of intimacy Justin never would’ve expected based on what he’d learned about this man.

“I promise not to tell the mother hens.” Emmett kissed Brian on the cheek with a wink.

“Hello, I’m Emmett Honeycutt.” the man turned toward Justin and put out his hand.

Justin bit his lip and gave a forced smile but didn’t take Emmett’s hand. He was still shaken from his panic attack, and his brain couldn’t handle even the slightest human touch right now unless it came from Brian, which was something he would need to unpack at a later time.

“Don’t take it personal, Honeycutt.” Brian cut in and wrapped his arm around Emmett’s shoulders. “He has PTSD and doesn’t let hardly anyone touch him.”

Emmett gave Justin a reassuring smile and then wrestled out of Brian’s embrace with a “Don’t call me Honeycutt!” that had no bite behind it.

“I’m sorry.” Justin rubbed his hands together and gave Emmett a deeply apologetic look. “I just haven’t been the same since it happened.”

“Hey, what did I tell you? Apologies are bullshit.” Brian, who had somehow ended up across the room already, pulled out some glasses and held up the half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Who wants a shot?”

Justin didn’t respond just moved closer to the bar setup and put his hand out for a tumbler. Emmett, on the other hand, squealed excitedly and clapped his hands as he bounced over to join the two.

Justin hugged his tumbler tight in the grip of his two hands and remained silent while Emmett and Brian started up a conversation. He sat on a stool and let his eyes observe the two best friends in their natural ease.

“So, support group still not your thing?” Emmett raised an eyebrow at Brian. “I don’t know why you go if you hate it so much.”

“It keeps Lindsay, Michael, and Debbie off my back.” Brian shrugged as he threw back the shot and hissed as it went down.

“You’ve never let them walk all over you before.” Emmett reached out to place his hand on Brian’s, which sat on the counter. Just as the man’s hand made contact though, Brian pulled away as if the touch was fire.

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly Brian anymore, am I?” Brian licked his lips and closed his eyes, leaning his weight onto his elbows on the counter.

Justin observed as the closed-off, staunch man he’d met at the support group not an hour prior suddenly wrapped in on himself and became a shell of a person. It kind of reminded Justin of what he was like when his depression really took hold.

“You know I don’t judge.” Emmett started to say, walking around the counter to stand directly next to Brian, who glared up at him. “However, I think you’re giving this too much power.”

Emmett didn’t say what this implied, but Justin could easily figure it out. Much like Brian, Emmett seemed to avoid putting the word to what Brian had: cancer. It was as if the two felt without labeling it they could pretend it wasn’t potentially life-threatening. Justin watched as Emmett silently ran his fingers through Brian’s hair, and Brian subtly leaned into the touch. Then, just as quickly, the moment was ruined by Brian cupping his hand in front of his mouth and rushing to the nearby sink.

The sounds of vomiting permeated the room, but Justin ducked his head as if to show Brian he wasn’t paying attention to it. After he was done, the older man didn’t return to the counter right away. Instead, Justin heard a door behind him open and close, leaving him alone with Emmett.

“Sorry about that. The radiation really kicks his butt even if he tries to pretend it doesn’t.” Emmett smiled and shrugged, grabbing the glasses and putting them to the side to be washed later.

“If you knew it was going to make him sick, why’d you let him drink?” Justin was truly curious about this friendship dynamic.

“You just met him so you might not realize, but Brian doesn’t take too kindly to being told he can’t do something.” Emmett raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Besides, sometimes you just need a fucking drink.”

Justin raised his glass in agreement, “Amen.”

A silence fell between them. Justin took another sip of the whiskey and winched at the burn. He didn’t drink much, not because he wasn’t legally able to, but because he wasn’t really keen on the taste. For Justin, drinking had always been a social thing. He worried his bottom lip as his thoughts swam with visions of his attack and the support group and Brian rescuing him. Even six months out, Justin still had nightmares and day scares about the person who attacked him for kissing his boyfriend. The young man was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Emmett speaking once again.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m a curious Kathy so what caused your PTSD?” Emmett’s spark was back and he animatedly leaned forward to cut the distance between him and Justin in half.

Justin bit down hard on the lip he’d been nervously worrying for the past ten minutes. He didn’t know Emmett, but he also didn’t want to seem like a weakling who couldn’t even talk about what had happened to him. He took a deep breath and was about to respond when the door behind him opened once more, and he heard Brian’s footsteps approach.

“I was bashed outside my boyfriend’s concert six months ago. We were kissing, and this guy jumped us. He had a bat.” Justin mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Brian stopped in his tracks, his presence evident despite still being behind Justin.

“Fuck.” Brian breathed out as Emmett’s hand flew to his mouth in shock.

“Just drop it. Okay.” Justin took the last swig of his whiskey and stood up. He needed to leave. This was getting too personal, and he wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“I should go.” He walked past Emmett and Brian, still frozen where they stood, and out the door onto the street.

Twenty minutes later, Justin paid the cab driver and walked up the driveway of his parents' home. They’d been fighting a lot lately, and he hoped tonight wasn’t one of them. It was bad enough that he was 21 and had to move back in with his parents because he couldn’t hack it in the dorms with his PTSD, but to also have to basically hide who he was from his dad was even worse.

Sure, his dad knew, in theory, that he’d been bashed for kissing another man. However, once Justin had been released and realized that even approaching PIFA’s campus gave him extreme anxiety, his father allowed him to move back in. Not another word was spoken about his sexuality, and considering Justin couldn’t stand being around other people right now, it hadn’t been an issue. Justin reached the front door and was about to turn the key when it flung open, and his angry father’s face greeted him.

“Where the fuck have you been? When you moved back in, I told you that you had to be back by 9. It is 9:30.” Criag’s voice was menacing, but Justin didn’t even flinch. He wasn’t afraid of his father, not anymore.

“Relax. I went to support group and then hung out with Brian for a few minutes after. Then I had to wait for a cab.” Justin shrugged and pushed past the elder man.

“Who the fuck is Brian. He’s not a pervert like the boy who caused you to become confused and then be attacked, is he?” Justin looked up at his father, finally seeing the man for who he was.

It hadn’t been that his father didn’t realize he was gay. It was he thought that by letting Justin move back in, he was saving his son from being manipulated and brainwashed. With a deep breath, Justin stood strong and addressed his father.

“I wasn’t confused. That ‘boy,’ as you stated, was my boyfriend. We were in love. I’m gay. Nothing can change that, not you and not some assholes with a bat.” Justin inhaled and then continued, “As for Brian, he’s just someone I connected with at the support group. He has cancer, and we got to talking. That’s it, not that it's any business of yours.”

Craig slapped Justin across the face without hesitation, “I won’t tolerate any smart-mouthing or sexual deviance in my house.”

Justin rubbed his cheek gingerly and then smirked, “Okay. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked up the stairs to his bedroom and shut the door.

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #fanfiction #brian x justin #alternate universe #current wip #support group au

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asukamood · 2 months

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Together [1] (fmaa2)

***

The lore of this AT is so thick you have no clue how much Jay and I have been working on it. Anyway, you are once again about to read a part of the story that is not included in the “main storyline.” As a reminder, the main storyline is mostly about Dream and Blue’s arranged marriage.

You may have wondered what Hacker and Blue were here and how they met, this is the story of how they became best friends. You guys better buckle up because this is far from being a happy story. (Very long as well, this is only the first part.)

If you have yet to, I do encourage you to read the post “Target Syndrome (EX).” It will help you understand Hacker’s condition in the story, though it is important to note that the diagnosis here was done a bit differently considering the lack of magic in this world.

As a heads-up, I would like to point out that I am not saying that all psych wards mistreat their patients nor am I saying that all psych wards treat their patients wonderfully. This story is still fictional, do remember that.

This specific psych ward did not respect normal procedure (for one) and will later be closed for patient mistreatment so do not think that this is the norm of psych ward.

***

Warnings: Mentioned physical abuse (here disguised as self-harm), self-harm (cutting), eating disorder (anorexia), mentioned suicide attempt/ideation, psych ward setting (with patient mistreatment), very strongly implied depression, light description of injuries, blood, violence, borderline sexual harassment [the character has no intention to do anything of the sort but her words may be interpreted that way], mentioned sexual abuse

Synopsis: When, during one of his most violent outbursts, Papyrus had threatened to isolate Blue in a psych ward to show how much worse he could make him as he was struck down to the floor, Blue had no idea he would actually go through the idea.

So, when he found himself standing in front of a nurse in the hospital, telling him to strip, he could hardly believe he was not hallucinating.

***

When, during one of his most violent outbursts, Papyrus had threatened to isolate Blue in a psych ward to show how much worse he could make him as he was struck down to the floor, Blue had no idea he would actually go through the idea.

So, when he found himself standing in front of a nurse in the hospital, telling him to strip, he could hardly believe he was not hallucinating.

The nurse, a woman in her thirties who looked old enough to be in her fifties instead, glared as Blue stayed motionless. “What are you waiting for? I don’t have all day and you're not the only patient I have to see so I would appreciate it if you were to hurry up.”

“Ah- Excuse me but is this really--” He was unbelievably uncomfortable but the nurse, instead of softening her features at the sight of a poor 16-year-old boy so distressed, only had her eyes narrowed even more.

“If you keep stalling, I’m going to have to do it myself.” She hissed, tapping her finger on the wooden tablet on her lap.

That finally prompted him into action, reluctantly taking off his shirt. After he was done removing his clothes, the woman got up from her seat, looking him up and down before he heard her count aloud.

Was she... was she counting his scars?

After she seemed satisfied, she handed him a shoebox, telling him to change into the gown he would find inside. She took his outdoor clothes from him, along with his scarf.

“Can I not keep my scarf at least? It’s quite important to me--” He asked before he was rudely shut down again.

“Unless you want to know in advance how our sedatives feel, you can’t.” She simply replied, walking toward a bunch of drawers. She opened one of them, throwing his belongings inside before locking them up. “You’ll get it back after you’re discharged, now get moving. As I said, I don’t have all day.”

That is how he found himself being led by two staff members; their faces expressionless. Similarly, to their colleague, they seemed unwilling to answer his questions or even look his way. It was almost like they had been tasked with walking a dog instead of a human being. Blue tried to stay positive, telling himself that these two at least were not actively threatening him.

He had a feeling it would not last long. Although, he decided to ignore the thought for the moment.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a door leading to which he assumed would be his room. One of the psych techs handed him a binder labelled “Unit rules,” urging him to read it carefully. The other opened the door, explaining that he would be sharing his room with another patient who would be the one explaining how life worked in the facility.

He would have been fine with that if his roommate was not dangerous to him at least.

He stepped inside the room, checking his surroundings. The space they had was quite limited but sufficient for two people. The beds were each pushed against the opposite wall of each other, while what looked like a closet was placed against the wall facing the entrance, next to the window. A small desk filled the other corner of the room.

Each piece of furniture was either secured to the ground or the wall, leaving no place hidden for the staff. On his left, a door leading to what he assumed to be the bathroom stood there, slightly ajar.

Although, his attention was more attracted to the boy sitting on one of the beds, a nurse standing before him, holding his arm. Blond with some brown strands at the back of his head, dark blue eyes underlined by heavy eyebags, pale and young-looking, he looked... tired.

He was wearing a long-sleeved gown just like Blue himself was, but one of said sleeves was rolled up, revealing the poor state of his forearm. It was covered with both old and fresh cuts, some of which were even covered with concerning bruises. At the sight of the cuts, Blue involuntarily let out a gag, attracting the attention of both the nurse and the boy.

One of the psych techs narrowed his eye at him, telling him to better control himself. He nodded, not risking another look in fear of ending up throwing up. The nurse just rolled her eyes, pressing a syringe onto the patient, taking a little blood from him.

The boy was heard wincing, the grimace on his face easily guessable.

Blue waited until the nurse had left the room before risking a glance forward, the blond one waving in his direction with a small smile before he stood up to meet him. As he expected, he had rolled down his sleeves again, hiding the scars underneath the fabric.

“Hello!” He beamed. “You must be my new roommate, what’s your name?”

“You can call me Blue--” One of the psych techs cleared his throat before he had the chance to ask for the other’s name.

“He was asking for your real name, kid.” He sighed, looking away.

“My name is Lucian.” He has always hated that name, why did he have to be called that even here anyway?

Unexpectedly though, the other just smiled. “Hi Blue!” He glanced at the psych tech who only glared at him before taking his leave. “I’m Theodore, I’m glad to meet you!”

“As am I.”

“I’ve never seen you before, are you new here or did I just not notice you?” he asked, studying his face.

“I got here a few minutes ago.” He answered, grimacing as he recalled the behavior of that nurse. “The two others told me that you would explain how it was like here?”

Theodore raised an eyebrow, surprised. “They did?” He scoffed. “Actually, it doesn’t surprise me that they would make me do their work in their stead, oh well!”

“Did they give you the shoebox?” To answer him, Blue simply lifted the box in his hands. “Okay, perfect. You are in luck, we’re in our free period so nobody should bother us while we’re talking.”

Blue raised an eyebrow. “A free period?”

“They didn’t explain that to you either? Our life here is heavily monitored and rhythmed by a schedule we all follow.” He walked over to the desk, picking up a notebook Blue assumed was his. He flipped a few pages in front of Blue, ignoring most torn pages. He finally stopped on the last page that he showed Blue.

“In the morning, the staff takes your vitals which really means that they check your temperature, your blood, your bpm, and other stuff like that. After that is done, you’ll be led to the cafeteria to have breakfast--” Blue grimaced at the mention of the meal, already dreading it. “-- and you’ll follow up with an activity. It depends on the day but most of the time, you’ll be given free time.”

He nodded, showing he was following. “At noon, we’ll have lunch then free time, so what we are having right now, and then we’ll be sent to group activities.”

Blue tilted his head to the side in confusion, group activities?

Theodore smiled. “I had the exact same reaction as you when I was told that. Basically, we’ll be put in small groups with a psych tech who’ll make us read the unit rules and then talk about ourselves and stuff like that.”

“... That sounds extremely boring and uncomfortable.” Theodore nodded in agreement.

“You could not be righter. Did they tell you in which group you’ll be with today?” Blue shook his head, making Theodore frown again. Judging by the other’s reaction, it was clear that this was once again information he should have gotten but was not told of. He wondered just how many times this would happen today.

“I’ll just ask if you can join my group later then.” He scribbled something in his notebook along these lines with a... crayon?

Noticing his staring, the other laughed. “Yeah, they don’t let us use real pens because they’re worried about us trying to hurt ourselves with those.”

“I see...” That would also explain how thin these blankets look. Blue did hear something about the presence of ‘anti-suffocation’ blankets in wards. He never thought he would one day find himself using one of those.

“If the two thirds of the day are quite boring, nighttime is a bit more chill. We start off with dinner, then a shower--” He interrupted himself midway, looking around. Under Blue’s confused gaze, Theodore walked over to the door before closing it, motioning for him to come closer.

He did so as the other leaned in next to his ear.

“You’re honestly better off not washing your hair, the shampoo here is awful.” He whispered with the voice of someone who had learned that the hard way, before backing away again. “The bathroom is over there.” He pointed toward the door Blue had noticed upon his arrival, confirming his theory.

“There is no lock on the door since the staff is going to check up on you every once in a while, to make sure you’re not trying to drown yourself in there.” He added, making Blue’s heart drop.

“They... can enter at any moment?” He must have looked distraught as he said that, if the sympathetic look the other gave him was any indication of that.

“Pretty much yes, but there is nothing to worry about, there is a shower curtain, so you only need to pop your head out when they are there. Besides, I will always be right outside so if there is any problem, I will gladly throw hands.” He pat his shoulder, a dangerous look in his eyes. That look was kind of scary, but he supposed he didn’t mind it that much, considering he had said that to defend him.

“Right... You also spoke of the staff taking vitals in the morning I believe?” Theodore nodded. “Yet I just saw you get a sample of your blood taken and it is well past noon, why is that?”

Theodore smiled sheepishly, chuckling nervously. “It’s a bit hard to explain but let’s just say I’m a... ‘Special case.’”

Blue opened his mouth to ask him to elaborate, his interest piqued, but the other quickly changed the subject, this time gesturing toward the beds. “You probably noticed them before but those are ‘anti-suffocation’ blankets or, as I like to call them, ‘anti-warmth’ blankets.”

He made a grimace as he said it, grabbing one of said blankets and letting it fall to the bed again. “You can’t request for proper blankets, trust me, I’ve tried, but if it really is that bad some nurses do accept to give you painkillers to get through the night.”

Blue was not sure he quite liked the implication of the last phrase.

“During the day, you might be interrupted in your free time to talk to a therapist, a doctor, or any certified mental health professional. Most of the time, they ask you basic questions like ‘have you had thoughts of harming yourself or others the last 2 weeks?’ or to rate your emotions on a scale of 1 to 10. Though, since you are a newbie, they might ask you more personal questions.”

“You seemed to know your way around here quite well.” He remarked. “If I may ask, how long have you been here for?”

Theodore tapped his chin in thought. “... Which month are we again?”

“April.” He replied.

“Oh, then it must be my 4th month here since I’m still 14.” Oh, so Theodore was younger than him by two years.

“That... sounds like hell.” Theodore laughed, nodding in confirmation.

“Oh, it is, but there is not much I can do about it.” He walked past him to open the door. He gestured toward the hallway. “There is nothing left to see here, let me introduce you to the others and show you around!”

Blue gladly followed him. “What are you even here for?” Considering what he had seen earlier, he was quite certain severe self-harm was on the list, but he was quite curious to find out whether it was the only reason he was there.

The hall was mostly silent as they walked, which was quite surprising for Blue as he had more so expected to hear screams or at least a cry. Not that he was complaining though.

“You know, we’re not supposed to be talking about that kind of stuff.” He warned, eyeing a tech who was passing by. Then, quieter. “We always find a way to anyway but I’m mainly here for self-harm, sexual abuse and a bunch of lies.”

Blue nodded. “What about you?”

“Ah well...” He looked around, just like Theodore did previously, before sliding his thumb horizontally across his throat. He did not have to know the real reason for his internment here, it was probably fine if he lied for a bit.

“Ooooh, gotcha.” He gave him a thumbs-up before opening two large doors.

“We’re here!” Theordore announced as they stepped into the room. Unlike the hallway, this room boasted life; many patients were sat down, most playing cards. “This is the main area of the facility and one of the rooms you will spend the most time in apart from our room. During free time, we are mostly free to distract ourselves and during nighttime they typically bring us here to watch a movie together.”

Blue let his eyes travel around the room, focusing on studying the people reunited around the tables. “How would you describe the others?”

“Most of them are nice.” Theodore replied without much hesitation, following Blue’s gaze. “We are all pretty much in the same boat, fighting similar battles so you can say that we are pretty close to one another.” Blue nodded.

Since he had spent so long not able to interact with people, Blue never had many friends. He had a feeling this stay here was going to be a living hell, but maybe he could try to make a few friends?

He was about to ask another question before a girl, about their age, jumped on Theodore. “Theo!” She laughed, hugging him for a few seconds before letting go of the startled teen. “Nice to see you back, how was it?”

Theodore quickly regained his composure, shrugging at her question. “It was average, pretty much what always happened.”

She chuckled again, seemingly not having listened to a word he said. “Glad to hear that, anyway I gotta go, toodaloo!” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek, much to Blue’s surprise, before running off again.

“...Who was that?”

“That was Ella, she’s probably in a manic episode again.” He calmly replied. “She won’t remember she did when she goes back to her depressive episode so you shouldn’t place too much importance on that.”

“Right.” After that, Theodore led him to a small group of people playing hanging man (here called standing man because it was ‘too inappropriate.’)

It was going to take him some time to adjust to this life but at least his roommate seemed to be nice. He could not ask for much anyway.

He hated it here.

Get him out of here.

***

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#dreamswap #angst #ds blue #ds hacker #dshacker #dreamswap blue #dreamswap hacker #fmaa2

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