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
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I havenât 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! Thatâs honestly such a cute idea. Hopefully I can execute this correctly, heh. <3 I like how it turned out, personally. Itâs soft and something I would personally appreciate when Iâm having a bad mental day.
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The Bad Batchâs 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 werenât really. It surely wasnât because she didnât 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 couldnât burden them with that though, when she couldnât. 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 didnât quite reach your eyes. How your laugh may be loud, and it might not be forced, but it wasnât 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.
â(N/n)?â 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 hadnât even realized that youâd began crying. âYes, Wrecker?â
âAre you,â He starts, but pauses to move closer. âAre you okay?â
You stare into his caring eyes, then sigh, looking down and to the side. Ignoring the man squatting in front of you. You couldnât bring yourself to lie to his face. It hurt too much to do that.
âNo,â You squeak out. Letting your shoulders fall slack. âIâm not.â
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 couldnât help but sniffle, fidgeting with your hands, a small smile on your lips at the face heâs 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. âYouâre so weird, Wrecker.â You smiled.
He lays his cheek against your knee. Brows knitted together as he thought hard about something. You werenât sure what it was, but you still enjoyed the companionship anyways. The silence isnât something that bothered you. Not in the moment, at least. After a moment he spoke up.
âYâknow, somebody told me that you sound like ân owl. Canât see it though.â
You raised a brow, tilting your head to the side with a small noise of interest. âWho?â
The smile he wore after you answered made everything fall into place. âNow I see it.â
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.
âThat had to be one of the most stupid jokes Iâve ever heard.â 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.
âMade ya laugh though.â He spoke thoughtfully.
You didnât 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 couldnât help but let out a soft sigh.
Wrecker didnât 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 didnât 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 readerâs 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
âHnnhâŠâ You grabbed another tissue from your bedside table. Youâve 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. Itâs been awhile since youâve truly felt that way. When was the last time youâve sat with the boys after a successful case, sharing a laugh and talking about the simpler things? Too long ago. Recently, youâd 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 donât 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 couldnât stand to see them worry. Just so they donât ask questions about why youâd been so mentally drained on hunts recently.
âWhy are you sad?â
âIâm not just sad. Iâm emotionally exhaus--â
âJust stop being sad.â
âItâs not that eas--â
âAre you scared? Or just shy?â
âI have anxiet--â
âStopâŠâ 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 couldnât 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.
â(Y/N)?â 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.
âCas.â You lifted the blanket off of you gently. A silence settled between you watched his familiar features, but you didnât mind. Something about his soft, concerned eyes made you feel comforted. He opened his mouth, searching for words.âI felt you had a longing for comfort, so I came.â You turned your face into the blankets and choked out a thanks. âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
âTrust me, you donât want this burden.âÂ
âBut I can handle much more than a human. Let me help.â 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.
âI hope you don't mind, but Iâm going to say to you everything I could never say to⊠well, anyone else.â Castiel nodded, allowing you to continue. âI... â This was the first time youâd say it out loud. You took a deep breath, as if having to face something you didnât want to be the reality. âI have depression and anxiety.â You saw his eyebrows furrow in question, but you knew he wouldnât ask questions until you were done. âI have it for a long time I guess, but Iâm just so tired of being sad, and nothing can make me happy anymore. Everything is getting so overwhelming. Whenever Iâm out with Sam and Dean I just feel like I donât mean anything to them, I⊠I know they donât try to make me feel like this but I just do. And I feel like it wouldnât matter if I was gone. They would be better without me.â You stopped, glancing over at Cas, before dropping your gaze to your feet. He thinks youâre sick. Mental.Â
âNo, you are not sick.â He stated matter-of-factly. âI know Iâm 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. Itâs perfectly normal. Sam and Dean, I know they care about you. Theyâve been worried about you on every single hunt youâve been on. And as for me...â Only now did you look up to catch Castielâs eye contact. âI care about you, (Y/N). I could always tell something was...different about your soul. Iâve been worried about you since I met you.â Youâre making everyone worry. Theyâre 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. âIt 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, youâll get past this.â You sat in silence for a few moment. Castiel isnât even a human, and he can describe what you're going through better than you can. âI need you to promise something. For the boys.âÂ
âWhat?â
âWell, unfortunately, thereâs 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-â he took your hands in his and held your gaze. âPromise me your flame wonât burn out.â He watched you with an intensity youâve never seen in his eyes.Â
He cared.
âI promise.â He held out his pinky finger expectantly. When you did nothing, he looked down, eyebrows furrowed.
âIs this right? Dean told me this is a âpinky promiseâ. Where we make a promise using our pinkies. Itâs a very strange human custom.â And for the first time in a much too long time, you laughed and truly meant it.
This is the first SPN related thing Iâve 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.