Maybe Mid90s with r who has an ed or some other mental health issues? Maybe insomnia or self-esteem issues
Feel free to ignore if it makes u uncomfy. I read your rules and it didn't say anything about ed and stuff
ouuuu okay I can definitely do this!! and no worries, im fine w writing about ed / mental health issues, considering its shit ive struggled w before and reading content where it exists kinda helps lol ; ty for requesting, hope you enjoy!!
MID90S ; mental health
includes ; fuckshit, ray, fourthgrade, ruben (platonic) & stevie (platonic)
warnings ; language, eating disorders, self esteem issues (each has a different thing), weed
masterlist
FUCKSHIT
eating disorder
lowkey doesnt rlly know how to help
hes just going off instinct
always asking if youve eaten / how much
and he doesnt fall for that fake eating bullshit (think that one cassie and sid scene in skins where cassie shows how she "eats dinner")
he understands that he cant fix you
but that isn't gonna stop him from helping you (trying)
even if he sucks at showing it, he loves you
he knows he can only do so much but hes doing whatever he can to help
its the little things
he brings you comfort snacks to hang outs and reassures you that you dont have to eat, but if you feel hungry, eat
he carries a sharpie at all times to cross out nutrition values and calorie shit on the back of products
RAY
self esteem issues
he feels so bad because why is such a gorgeous person so unhappy with themselves?
he gets it tho, he lowk has some self esteem issues of his own
but hes doing the best he can
words of affirmation suddenly skyrocket and its his main love language
hes such a sweetheart :(
regularly calls you when youre apsrt to check on you
gives you notes every day to hype you up a bit
always gives a little "i love you" before separating and makes sure you heard, he will repeat himself a million times
never ever ever leaves you out of group hangouts and frequently hangs out with you alone as well
pillow talk ❤️🩹 just rambles about memories and blabs about how much he loves you
FOURTHGRADE
insomnia
that man doesn't sleep either 😔 /hj
if hes without weed, hes without sleep man
he'll lay with you in hopes to relax you to sleep, and/or scratch your scalp or talk you to sleep
even if it doesnt work, he won't give it up
if he cant sleep with you, hes on the phone running up both of your bills
if he cant do that, hes made you cassette tapes for you to listen to at night, just him rambling and shit
he gives you a hoodie that reeks of him every week for you to cuddle or wear when you try to sleep
frequently begs you to get stoned with him to see if it'll help since it helps him
he loves napping with you but he gets so sad when he realizes you're never asleep when he is
convinced that with enough cuddles, he can fix you
RUBEN
depression
he sucks with feelings since he pushes everything back and kinda isolates himself
he platonically loves you so he does try helping, even if hes being a dick, but hes not trying to be
makes stupid jokes 24/7 just to make you laugh and smile
steals a hamster from a pet store for you
hamster = emotional support animal
listens to you ramble and cry whenever you need it, and apologizes when he gives you the resting bitch face
gives the best hugs, almost desperate in a way cause he lacks physical affection and let's be honest, you both need a hug
lowkey urges you to get medication if youre medically diagnosed
not to abuse the drugs, but to actually help you
bro even gets the older teens to help out when youre starting meds cause the way antidepressants fuck you up is mad
STEVIE
anxiety
hes very quiet and reserved, honestly I feel like hes got some social anxiety, just my opinion tho
so in a way, he understands
like his stomach twists when teachers go around the class for answers, he hates when people sit behind him, he hates being in new places
he tries his best to ease you away from straight panic like holding onto your hand really tight or instructing you to breathe
he pushes you out of your comfort zone a little bit like exposure therapy
lots of words of affirmation after you do something you're not used to
bro rewards you in stolen snacks from the gas station
I haven’t been here in a while now have I? (Hehe) Anyways, I was wondering if you could do a Bad Batch oneshot where the reader is depressed, and Wrecker tries to cheer her up? Probably doing funny (and maybe clumsy) things to try and distract her and make her laugh?
Hello, sweet, darling anon. :) Of course I can! That’s honestly such a cute idea. Hopefully I can execute this correctly, heh. <3 I like how it turned out, personally. It’s soft and something I would personally appreciate when I’m having a bad mental day.
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The Bad Batch’s medic had been distant lately. Always quietly slipping out of their company to sit alone in the kitchen. Or in the cockpit. Or anywhere where they weren’t really. It surely wasn’t because she didn’t like them, no, she loved them a lot. But she was just feeling down. The pressure in her head was always high and tight, hard to deal with. But she managed. She couldn’t burden them with that though, when she couldn’t. When the pain in her head got to strong and the weight in her chest was too heavy to carry, she would slip away, to not cause them problems.
Wrecker had put two and two together this time though, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. How your laugh may be loud, and it might not be forced, but it wasn’t real. It was just a reaction. He put the puzzle together and decided to follow you to the cockpit.
You were sitting in the pilots chair. Zoned out as you sat in the dark alone, the shine of the hyperspace being your only source of light, it gleaming in your watery (e/c) eyes.
Wrecker frowned at the sight.
“(N/n)?” He gently prompts, his voice softer then it usually is.
You turn, eyebrows raising in recognition. Wiping at your nose with your sleeve you try to not draw too much attention to it. You hadn’t even realized that you’d began crying. “Yes, Wrecker?”
“Are you,” He starts, but pauses to move closer. “Are you okay?”
You stare into his caring eyes, then sigh, looking down and to the side. Ignoring the man squatting in front of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to his face. It hurt too much to do that.
“No,” You squeak out. Letting your shoulders fall slack. “I’m not.”
Wrecker sits down on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs and propping his chin up on your knee. His soft gaze making you melt underneath the intensity. You couldn’t help but sniffle, fidgeting with your hands, a small smile on your lips at the face he’s making.
He wiggles his eyebrows, making your smile grow a bit wider. Then he crosses his eyes and scrunches up his nose. Making you grin a bit, but it died down too quick, too fast for his liking. So he sticks his tongue out and licks the top of your leg, eyes directly connected with yours. Making you snort and smack the side of his head, your real, drawn from the deep of your chest, laughter rang through the cockpit.
You wipe the tears and snot from your face with the end of your sleeve again, shaking your head. Quieting. “You’re so weird, Wrecker.” You smiled.
He lays his cheek against your knee. Brows knitted together as he thought hard about something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you still enjoyed the companionship anyways. The silence isn’t something that bothered you. Not in the moment, at least. After a moment he spoke up.
“Y’know, somebody told me that you sound like ‘n owl. Can’t see it though.”
You raised a brow, tilting your head to the side with a small noise of interest. “Who?”
The smile he wore after you answered made everything fall into place. “Now I see it.”
You bust out in laughter, your whole frame shaking as you giggled away at the stupid joke. Head falling back as you drew in deep steadying breaths. Face flushed red, stomach aching from the laughing, but your chest felt lighter than before.
Funny.
“That had to be one of the most stupid jokes I’ve ever heard.” You shook your head, smiling at him, your eyes were a little bit brighter. A lighter shade of (e/c).
Wrecker grins, closing his eyes as you set your hands on the top of his head, he enjoyed the warmth of your palm flush against his bare skin. He hummed.
“Made ya laugh though.” He spoke thoughtfully.
You didn’t answer, but just sat with him, running your hands over his dark skin. Fingers tracing his scars. Forming and repeating a pattern as you basked in the warmth of his head in your lap. You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.
Wrecker didn’t press you to speak or do anything, really. He let you stay quiet, he let you enjoy your alone time to wind down. To think and relax. To enjoy the silence. But he just wanted to make sure you didn’t do it, well, alone.
Summary: The reader has been suffering depression and anxiety for a long time, and only know are they letting it all out, signalling a certain angel to come to the rescue. Based on the new song Burn Out by Imagine Dragons. Highly suggest you listen to it.
A/N: Warning for talking about depression, anxiety, and some mean thoughts in reader’s head
Sadness is my enemy
I fear time will age him gently
Walking by my side for all these years
Seems that we've grown friendly
~Burn Out, Imagine Dragons
“Hnnh…” You grabbed another tissue from your bedside table. You’ve had it bottled up for so long- years even- but it seems like humans can only take so much emotional turmoil before overflowing. Only so many years in such an anxiety-inducing work. Only so many killings in your hands. However righteous- the deaths of all those people still haunted you. Only so many things could go wrong- innocent civilians killed, plans failed, the boys getting hurt- with you to blame. With the boys out of the bunker, you figured this was a good time to let it all out. You flopped over in your bed, trying to think of anything to make you happy.
Happiness.
What a beautiful thing. It’s been awhile since you’ve truly felt that way. When was the last time you’ve sat with the boys after a successful case, sharing a laugh and talking about the simpler things? Too long ago. Recently, you’d come home from a hunt and instantly flop into your beds, trying to block out the events of the night, and repeating it all the next day. The boys might be that strong, but you certainly were not- and it was taking its toll.
The worst part about this all- the depression, the anxiety, the feelings of worthlessness- is that you don’t want to end your own life. You love life, even if you get so… sad, sometimes. So you go through each day suffering, because you love the boys, and couldn’t stand to see them worry. Just so they don’t ask questions about why you’d been so mentally drained on hunts recently.
“Why are you sad?”
“I’m not just sad. I’m emotionally exhaus--”
“Just stop being sad.”
“It’s not that eas--”
“Are you scared? Or just shy?”
“I have anxiet--”
“Stop…” You groaned and tossed over in your bed, piling the blankets on top of you. As you felt a fresh wave of tears about to hit you, you heard a sudden presence in the room. You couldn’t even process how to move your hand to the nightstand to grab your gun before you heard footsteps. You were too drained to do anything but let out a quick cry and hold the covers close to you.
“(Y/N)?” You relaxed a bit, the overwhelming feelings finally numbing. There was one person who you felt safe around. Maybe it was the fact that he was a completely divine figure, filled with grace and holiness. He was an angel, of course you were meant to feel at ease around him. Maybe he- the omniscient being he is- could possibly understand your ailment.
“Cas.” You lifted the blanket off of you gently. A silence settled between you watched his familiar features, but you didn’t mind. Something about his soft, concerned eyes made you feel comforted. He opened his mouth, searching for words.“I felt you had a longing for comfort, so I came.” You turned your face into the blankets and choked out a thanks. “What’s wrong?”
“Trust me, you don’t want this burden.”
“But I can handle much more than a human. Let me help.” He lay a hand on your shoulder, and you suddenly felt strong enough to sit up and talk to someone about this. You sat up in your bed, blankets still wrapped around you, and motioned for Cas to sit as well. He hesitated a moment before sitting awkwardly on the edge of your bed, hands folded in his lap politely.
“I hope you don't mind, but I’m going to say to you everything I could never say to… well, anyone else.” Castiel nodded, allowing you to continue. “I... “ This was the first time you’d say it out loud. You took a deep breath, as if having to face something you didn’t want to be the reality. “I have depression and anxiety.” You saw his eyebrows furrow in question, but you knew he wouldn’t ask questions until you were done. “I have it for a long time I guess, but I’m just so tired of being sad, and nothing can make me happy anymore. Everything is getting so overwhelming. Whenever I’m out with Sam and Dean I just feel like I don’t mean anything to them, I… I know they don’t try to make me feel like this but I just do. And I feel like it wouldn’t matter if I was gone. They would be better without me.” You stopped, glancing over at Cas, before dropping your gaze to your feet. He thinks you’re sick. Mental.
“No, you are not sick.” He stated matter-of-factly. “I know I’m not the most understanding when it comes to the human mind, but I know this. Humans have been plagued with mental challenges from the day they were created. It’s perfectly normal. Sam and Dean, I know they care about you. They’ve been worried about you on every single hunt you’ve been on. And as for me...” Only now did you look up to catch Castiel’s eye contact. “I care about you, (Y/N). I could always tell something was...different about your soul. I’ve been worried about you since I met you.” You’re making everyone worry. They’re already busy enough. Look how much help you are... you should just die. Castiel frowned, and you reminded yourself he could hear your thoughts- all the degrading, self- abuse your mind produced. “It seems... your soul is a mere flicker, your mind- and the things you tell yourself- is the rain around it, threatening to burn out your flame at any moment. This is only a short downpour. I promise you, you’ll get past this.” You sat in silence for a few moment. Castiel isn’t even a human, and he can describe what you're going through better than you can. “I need you to promise something. For the boys.”
“What?”
“Well, unfortunately, there’s nothing in my ability to ease it right away, but I promise to help you get over this to the best of my ability. Just promise me- no matter how hard it gets-” he took your hands in his and held your gaze. “Promise me your flame won’t burn out.” He watched you with an intensity you’ve never seen in his eyes.
He cared.
“I promise.” He held out his pinky finger expectantly. When you did nothing, he looked down, eyebrows furrowed.
“Is this right? Dean told me this is a “pinky promise”. Where we make a promise using our pinkies. It’s a very strange human custom.” And for the first time in a much too long time, you laughed and truly meant it.
This is the first SPN related thing I’ve written in a few months, I think! Sorry if Cas is a bit OOC. School has just been crazy and I needed to let some stuff out through writing, and I had lots of inspiration due to the new Imagine Dragons album.
