#depressed! reader

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

“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.

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