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aindreisblythe · 1 year

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{Aindreis Self-Para}

"My god, my god, whose performance am I watching? How many people am I? Who am I? What is this space between myself and myself?" -F. Pessoa.

For many years, ever since he'd left his very first rehab, Aindreis had felt like he'd failed. He'd failed at everything. He didn't have a degree and the idea of trying to go back to school terrifies him to this day. He wasn't able to stay sober, and he honestly didn't see a point to it. And keeping a job was impossible. When he'd gone to the very first interview at Gemini, he was hired because he was essentially a "swiss army knife" in human form. He'd done so many jobs, in so many countries, in so many cities, that the only skill he hadn't acquired was staying. Sure, he got fired a few times. Because of one mistake too many. Because he was late. Because he showed up drunk. Because he'd ended up losing it on someone. But he'd also quit his fair amount of jobs. He didn't know if it was his ADHD, mostly untreated for a number of those years, or if it was his alcoholism, or his imposter syndrome or simply that he couldn't stand being there anymore; the thing was he often quit out of nowhere. Some times, that even came with leaving the country. Running at become a past time. When he came back to North Berwick and he'd taken a job at a fast food, while working for his parents as a fisherman part time, he'd never thought this would last. It didn't. 6 months in and he'd already quit the fast food job.

But then came Gemini. They believed in him and his capacities more than any job before and for once, he loved it. He was good at this job and he had no intention of quitting. Which led to East Haven. Never would Andy have thought that any company would give him the responsibility of managing a branch, especially not overseas. Between the need to prove himself and the excitement of novelty, Aindreis took a deep dive thinking he knew how to swim. Turns out drowning happens faster than he could have imagined, and screaming to yourself to learn to swim leaves you with nothing but water in your lungs.

Drowning was indeed the best way Aindreis could've described what was happening to him. Something had been wrong for a while and he refused to see it. It all culminated to that day when he just bailed on work. Going back after that had been too difficult. He'd tried but he'd lost the shield of pretending everything was fine. Maybe stopping therapy hadn't been the best idea. Last of time he said and look where that got him. He should go back is what the psychiatrist said when he went... "Close to burning out" was the other takeaway from that appointment. Aindreis wished he could've been surprised.

So there had been a video call after that, explaining the situation Sam, the CEO of Gemini, and while doing this added an enormous amount of stress of Aindreis' already high levels, he knew this had to happen. The conclusion had been that he would have to take time off. Sam didn't let him have too much choice in the decision. He would eventually come back of course, but they'd still make some changes in the meantime so it would not happen again. Aindreis knew this probably meant hiring someone to fill-in for him that would stay on after he came back. He did try to protest but Sam ended the call by telling him he would be fired if he tried to come back earlier than recommended. Even just to check in. Message was clear.

“So, you fled?”

“That sounded judgy, Jeremy.”

“Did it feel like fleeing?”

“It was fleeing in its simplest form, don’t you think, Doc?”

Aindreis had conversations about fleeing with about every therapist he's had, even the one he never told the whole truth. In retrospect, that also had been a form of fleeing. While that specific conversation wasn't about our present situation, it came to his mind anyway. He felt like he was giving up.Ali had told him he shouldn't try to play the hero, to try to fix everything because he couldn't, but he had tried anyway. How was he supposed to tell Ali about all of this? He'd been right. Not only were the past few months not good for their relationship, but Aindreis hadn't followed Ali's advice. He'd seen that it had started to lead to coming home to an empty flat and an Ali drunkenly getting into bed late. What would Ali say now that they had the confirmation that it almost went too far?

He wanted to go home and cry. He wanted Ali to hug him so he feel the relief of not having to hold on, of pretending, pretending, pretending. He's been drowning for so long, so deeply that he felt wary of taking a breath. Was he really out? For someone who loved the water so deeply, it wasn't a habit of his to be scared of it. He'd been forcing himself to swim deeper and deeper, leaving Ali behind and now that he'd stopped swimming, he wasn't sure how to ask him for help.

So he got home after a long walk to gather his thoughts. He was going to tell him. He had to, right? Ali would be happy to have him back at home, right? Well, the issue was that when Ali got home, he'd sure been happy to see Aindreis, but he was also really excited about something at work and Andy simply didn't have the heart to cut him off with his news. He'd tell him eventually. For now, he was home and it's all that mattered.

#self para #aindreis blythe #tw: rehab #tw: alcoholism #tw: burn out #tw: mental health #tw: drowning metaphors

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fishandcustardbun · 14 days

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Career and other miscellaneous thoughts

I'm not sure if i addressed it earlier or if i've even brought it up, like, ever, but i talked with my psychologist a few weeks ago and i got quite a lot out of it.

First she wants me to go a psychiatrist, for which i have and appointment tomorrow, and second she wants me to become a writer.

At first i thought it'd be ez peezy, idanno why, but turns out trying to make an entire book is hella hard for someone who has issues finishing stuff.

I'm currently stuck in like page 4 of a story, and i'm already worried that it won't get traction, and even so idk how would i monetize it.

On top of that, i've been having to deal with living with my mom.

She's an unkind bitchy whiner that won't see any kind of effort as worthwhile but hers, and after 23 whole ass years of dealing with it it's starting to become A HUGE ISSUE.

I spend most if not all of my days cleaning and washing clothes and cleaning and washing clothes while all of my siblings got studies and work to deal with and i'm stuck in this god forsaken white room and it's driving me insane.

And whatever effort i make to have this situation livable gets immediately diminished and/or disregarded by her because only she matters and nobody else and i'm just here rotting in this godforsaken cube waiting for my big break or something.

...

I've also tried making new friends, over on discord since i never go out, but i don't think people like me, maybe it's my overwhelming autistic forwardness.

I feel hella lonely, hella sad, and hella angry.

I just wanna be done with everything ever and die.

#.txt

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sincelastsession · 3 months

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I recorded the noise and brought it to the office.

They were assholes just straight up. I was incredibly polite.

More of my property has been fucked with.

My neighbor, the kind one called me and is just as fed up. She's going to talk to them too.

I went with mom to look at a few places. I let her know I was reactive, exhausted, in pain, and was going to smoke and change clothing and wear perfume since she tends to complain about those smells.

I was in a sedated but ok mood. I was trying to tell her about earlier today and my discussion with my neighbor. I tried to show her a tiktok. She was reactive. She was cruel. I gently asked if her blood sugar was climbing. She jumped my ass. I tried to show her that I was having issues and going nonverbal with pictures.

She continued to yell. I reacted and then went nonverbal.

I got out of the truck a a red-light after going nonverbal and found a parking lot curb to sit on.

She was screaming about her blood sugar and me. It did climb to over 600. I offered to call 911 or EMS or bring her.

She had sent me several nasty messages after I got back in the truck with her.

I left the truck to get away from her screaming. I tried to communicate through text but she almost hit me. So I got out.

This is put of order.

I did at one point lose my temper in reaction to abusive language and behavior and lots of criticism that was not constructive or good for me.

I got my EKG results and they are indicative of broken heart syndrome or another heart condition. I'm not a doctor but it has been mentioned to me by my psychiatrist's PA.

Apparently this has to do with CPTSD or prolonged stress and hypervigiliance.

I'm aware of family genetics, my two existing issues and the tachycardia I've had lately.

I'll let the heart doctor I should be making an appointment with tomorrow decide.

I am extremely overwhelmed and stressed out.

I tried to call my father so he could possibly check on my mother because she was not responding over the phone or text and she was blaming her high blood sugar on me which is not how it works and she knows better.

I am not responsible for her blood sugar going over 600. I did try to be responsible and let her know that her blood sugar was rising despite what her monitor said. I am her by blood daughter and I have been around her her entire life and I have had to bring her juice and I have had to tell her to check her blood sugar from a very young age and I have had to dig in her purse and hand her sugar tablets and I have had to give her an insulin shot before and she does not remember many of these things. It was never my responsibility to do that however her blood sugar has dropped very low and been extremely high before and she should have gone to the ER but she did not want me to call EMS or bring her to the ER because she thinks they will screw her up. I did everything in my circle of control that I could do and everything that I could offer while I was still struggling with being non verbal.

She dropped me off at home and went home and had that tantrum at me and yes everything is out of order.

I still could not say anything when I got out of the truck to go to my apartment and I cried going up the stairs because my head hurts very badly. I had heart palpitations once I got inside and felt like the air had been knocked out of me but I was not in pain and I knew that my pulse rate was high probably due to stress but also because of the heart conditions that I have and the problem that they found on my EKG which I will show you a picture of. This is just the Primary provider's persons read.

My ex-boyfriend sent me a great video of him doing one of the best stand up sets I've ever seen him do and he was very proud to show me and proud of himself and I was non verbal so I tried very hard to let him know that I was proud of him and then I showed him my EKG results the I'm overwhelmed picture and the I am non verbal please be patient with me and then I was able to type that I wanted to speak with him more and catch up very soon and that I was just having trouble.

He was very understanding of this and polite about it I tried to find A gift or 2 So I could respond and let him know that I was proud of him and that it was good.

I sent Matt the non verbal text earlier he has been respectful and not try to talk to me today and he is not having the best day himself and I cannot help him because I cannot help myself very much right now.

My mom told me I should go ahead and turn my closet into a Heidi hole because there was no way I would be moving anytime soon because her and my father continue to have arguments about who is going to pay for me to have a place to live since I desperately do need to move and neither of them won't be living here anymore and it's not good for Anyone.

I called several apartment complexes I called several property management places and I inquired about a house

I was very polite and some of the people were polite and some of the people were very rude.

Man my mom did look at a couple things but she seems to want to look at the expensive for sale houses that I would never be able to take care of by myself unless I get very very well off financially stable on my own.

It was brought up to me several times how much a bastard my father is and how she can't help pay for this and that because she's still paying her bills off and my father wants to fix up the house he is living in so he can sell it at a high price but he is doing the wrong fixes for that and I can't speak to him about it nor help him so I am just watching in horror as he ruins my childhood home

My mother and him got into an argument earlier today aside from that and I told her what things to avoid saying to him so it doesn't trigger him so she can't talk to him about me and other things

I know these things because I have watched my parents my entire life and walked on egg shells so I was just trying to help.

She said that I would just have to put up living here and I told her that heard my father needed to figure out how to get along and Help me with this situation so that I can become financially stable and calm down from my flare and do things so they do not need to help me anymore because I do not want their help anymore because their help comes with consequences And I can't think of the other word but I'm sure that this gets the point Across.

I did get told to shut up many times today I did get asked nicely to be quiet even though I wasn't talking about anything negative or being rude. I tried very hard to be a very hard time not speaking. I tried to sit there for about 5 minutes without saying anything and it was torture and I don't know if I have a neurological condition or if it is just obsessive-compulsive issues. It did not feel good. I could not hold it in and that was distressing. Going back and forth between talking a lot and not being able to talk at all is very frustrating and I was called manipulative because of this and that hurt very badly.

Now the person that called me manipulative had a sugar of over 600 so I'm trying not to take that so personally because she doesn't tend to get quite mean and irrational when her sugar is high especially that high she does not listen to reason or think correctly she just lashes out at everyone.

I was compared to my father and other people and I'm tired of being compared to other people and my family as if I am the same person because I am not and I am very tired of this and it hurts my feelings.

There are many things and words and instances that you do not see or I am casually abused as if it is just second nature to them.

I refuse to lie down and be beaten like a Dead Horse every single time that they want to get away with bad behavior. Being silent does not help Gray rock does not work responses responses tend to get responses and me having to raise my voice and use logic and tell them to their face exactly what they are doing and mirror their behavior seems to be the only thing that makes them think about what they're doing in the moment but that is very rare that they actually understand that what they did was bad.

I understand that some of these things are not within my circle of control and I should just let them but I do not want to just let them abuse me it is not OK it is not OK it is not okay when I do that to other people.

They cannot fuss at me and expect me to be kind if they are not going to be kind themselves

I do not like the psychological games that my mother plays and I do not like the psychological warfare that my father does.

What triggered him today was that my mom brought up him breaking my nose I did not ask her to do this. But now I am blocked and I'm not sure if it was because of me telling him off for treating me horribly the last time I spoke with him or if he decided to do that today or just for no reason at all. He says he cares but if there's an emergency I cannot call him for that. I almost contacted my sister to let her know that my mother's blood sugar was very high and to alert my father to see if he would bring her to the hospital or if anything could be done because I was actually concerned despite the abuse I had gone through and the fact that I was having a very hard time because I was non verbal.

I did not have to do that in the end because my mom texted me back and told me not to send EMS unless I was going to pay for it and then continue to bitch me out for even offering to do something kind

600 is very high for blood sugar and most people would have called EMSI told her that I was giving it 15 minutes and if she did not respond I was going to call over a voicemail..

I did this and I stretched the time because you should not wait 15 minutes to call EMS but I did it because I cared and she was telling me that I was stoned and could not drive her which is not true at all. I had smoked weight earlier and I was fine to drive. And when I mean way earlier over 4 hours.

I came home to things moved around on my table next to my door and I did not have the energy to even really be that upset about it because I just feel like I'm on auto pilot and I still feel like that right now talking to you in this journal entry.

I do not want to go non verbal again I do not like it and I do not like being hyperverbal either.

These are things that are frustrating and very hard to control and I don't know if it's possible for me to control them fully.

Yesterday I believe was my 2 year anniversary of being in a car wreck and getting a concussion

I'm trying very hard and I am being abused by my neighbors and I have no proof of it other than recordings of how loud it is and the office blew that off and I am ready to move

I have expressed to everyone that I do not know how much longer I can take it and I do understand that finances are not so great at the moment and I do understand that I might need to put forth some money if I can afford to do so in order to get a place to move into even temporarily

I have asked both my parents to get in contact with property management companies that might have private owners with decent places in decent parts of town and reality places that might be of help

I asked them because I am having trouble doing so myself and I have done quite a lot and I am shutting down more and more

I did not eat most of today and when I did eat I was on auto pilot and I made myself a couple of chicken fingers I have had water as well.

I am upset because I bought a lot of fresh produce and I had a lot of things I wanted to cook and I have not been able to be calm and concentrate enough to do something that I enjoy doing which is cooking when I feel up to it and I have felt up to it however I am overwhelmed and my hip hurts and extremely bad to put weight on it right now.

I am very overwhelmed

I would really like to just have a very calm next session and just talk.

I am hurting inside and out.

I will try and make sure tomorrow to call and see what's up with an appointment because Chelsea did not call me today that I am aware of or remember.

Maybe just a friendly conversation and therapy of sorts would be helpful for next session because I don't know if I can work on anything at the moment.

I thought about packing boxes today but it was so loud that I had to put on my noise-canceling ear protection and it was still Loud and I went to the office and I even helped the office manager compose a letter for all of the residents that he said he was going to have Put On everyone's door and Clearly Mine

It was very frustrating having to help an office manager word a letter because he didn't know how to word it but you know he was taking a nap and playing solitaire and he had his flask on his desk and quickly put all of that away and clutched the program and woke up when I asked to speak to him

I really have considered sex work and doing an only fans. It's feeling like one of my only options at this point and it's not really something that I am confident doing though I wish I could be but I never really thought that this is something that I would possibly even need to think about or even resort to. I do not think that sex work is bad. I do not think the people that do sex work are bad. I am just not sure if it is for me. It might have to be.

My parents do not seem to understand the pricing of apartments and they can't seem to agree on anything and talk 21 another like grown adults and they are putting me at risk because I cannot currently afford to just pack up and move without help.

I have not even had a break to figure out how to make extra money because I have had almost a year of trauma and stress brought on by my family and outside factors I have not had a vacation or any time to recover from any of it before something else stressful has happened and I'm not talking little stresses I am talking I am trying to mind my own business and something ridiculous fucking happens

And Travis could tell you that this is a common occurrence and at 1 point he himself thought I was being dramatic until he witnessed these things occur I do not know what daily or God or person that I have angered but I feel that I am being fucking punished constantly and yes I understand the cognitive behavior distortions that might go along with a lot of this and I'm completely aware of that

I'm aware of it most of the time because it was beat into my head and I understand it is all about mindfulness and I try very hard to be mindful but there's only so much mindful you can be when other people still continue to treat you like shit and you've had enough

I am anxious to even go to bed and try to get sleep because I have been woken up by my neighbors screaming and hollering in the middle of the night and early morning and I have not gotten really a restful sleep in months.

It's really aggravating when everyone wants you to be normal and you do not know how to act normal Because you were not born normal and you are not like everybody else and when I say everybody else I do not mean like they're all the same I mean like my brain is wired differently I mean like I'm autistic and a large majority of people are not.

And it's okay for you to hate the DSM but these signals I have religion a minute and I'm not trying to hide behind them I'm not trying to make excuses I'm giving valid reasons for the behaviors and no I am not trying to excuse the behaviors I'm just compulsively letting people know that that is why these things happen

My vinacular and the way I speak is always how I have spoken and I have gotten bullied for it in school as a child

I had a synonym book that I would flip through often as a child because I like to learn new words and I liked to use them.

It is hard for me to explain things in a simple manner versus a manner that uses a larger and wider vocabulary and terminology just like in the video I posted and I asked you to look for and watch when you have the time.

It makes a lot of sense and is incredibly relateable to what I experience and have experienced most of my life.

I'm really happy you had a nice time at your conference in New York.

I did not get to express my happiness for you like I wanted to.

I am curious to hear more about what they spoke about at the conference if you deign to tell me

I feel like I've had the shit beat out of me emotionally and physically for far too long

It was really hurtful to try and call my dad in an emergency situation to see if he could contact my mother to see if I needed to call EMS and find out that I was blocked

And I know the things I said to him were hurtful but it was no more hurtful than what he had said to me on the phone it's no more hurtful than what he has told me to my face as a small child all the way to how old I am now. He seems to be able to dish it out and when I mirror him and give it back to him he freaks out like a child and gets really hurt and then doesn't understand that the same thing he did to me also hurt me just as much and even if I tell him quietly and calmly he becomes very rude and hostile towards me and I know my father is in there somewhere andI think he needs a lot of mental health help and I can't do that and I can't help him and I really wanted to try and have a good relationship with my father before he gets older and passes away. I never asked him to use credit card to go play I NeVER asked for anything ridiculous I Don't ask him for extra Money for anything I Am Grateful that he does pay for my current place of residence I have told him I Am Grateful he has told me that I Am Ungrateful and a stupid shit and a Bitch andAnd many many other hurtful things over my lifetime

He is the reason that his side of the family will not speak to me he is the reason that his side of the family wants nothing to do with my mother other than you know her own problems that she has thrown at them and I do not like that my aunts and uncles on both sides of the family have this very skewed view of me because my parents talk shit behind my back and can't talk to me to my face about the problems that they have with me

If my mother cannot understand that I was only trying to do things like call my uncle and my friend because I love her and I'm trying to protect her from making a very bad bad bad choice and mistake and save her from jail and save her from dying in jail from not getting the correct insulin and things of that nature because she is on the past 2 committing fraud because she is head-over-heels with someone who does not exist. It is an army romance scam it is a classic one and the guy on the other and it has made every excuse in the book to make me sound like a lunatic and isolate her away from everyone so she will eventually fall for his sob story and things of that nature she is very easily groomed by men. I suspect that she had a lot of child sexual abuse that she will not talk about.

I don't feel like myself right now at al And I don't know how to even explain that because I don't know how to even describe or really recognize what the self is in regards to myself and that's very confusing and aggravatin

I don't exactly feel like I'm in an existential crisis or anything but I don't know anymore

I'm trying to do as much damage control with me in my life and my own health as possible while also dealing with very volatile parents and what also do you link with very rude and awful neighbors that even my nice neighbor agrees with me on that are being terrible and terrorizing me.

I'm staring at all of the things in my home and I couldn't even tell you if I had the boxes already set up to just be taped closed after writing what's in them I don't know what I would put in them and where I would put those loaded boxes or if there's even a reason to start doing so because I keep getting mixed messages from my parents about if I'm going to move or no

I've done a lot of looking and I've asked them for help to look and they keep yelling at me that it's my job to find a place and my job to call and my job to find out all this information and I've tried to remind them that I need help right now because I am not functioning well and they don't seem to understand this

I mean today I had enough I got out of the truck at a red light and I walked off and sat on a curb because I had gone non verbal because I had been screamed at after I had asked not to be screamed at

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

We looked places today but then my mom said oh never mind I'm not gonna be able to help you anyway because your father wants me to pay for everything

He has been footing the bill and she has not been helping

I do think it's fair if they went 5050 or some percentage each and then I would look at my budget and try and see if I could at least put forward a $100 or $200 though I do try to save a certain amount of money in my account at all times in case of an ESA animal emergency

That is me trying to be responsible and take care of my service animals so they can take care of me when I need it. I did spend time cuddling on one of them today while I was crying and it was helpful and he pulled his face off and he tried to lick the tears off my face and then he tried to get in to some stuff he was not supposed to get into because he's still young and doesn't know any better and cats all have weird personalities but he did his job.

I feel like everybody thinks that I have nothing going on in my life other than what I speak to them about and I do have much more going on in my life than they know about and I don't really feel like sharing that with them and I don't have to and they exercise when I tell them well you know I don't have time for that because I have a meeting with someone

Because I am working on art commissions from a friend it's on hiatus right now because they are not in a rush to put it out and they know that I am having trouble

I have had other people reach out to me about art and I have had to tell them that I am trying to work on my mental health and that I would be happy to help them as soon as I am available to do so.

I'm not really enjoying doing any art right now anyway and I have not really enjoyed doing it very often for the past couple of years

I'm not bad at it but I just haven't had a muse or a reason to make art and I'm not happy with the things that I make

I'm sad that my ex was happy to talk with me and I went nonverbal and had to tell him that. It was embarrassing even though he understood.

I miss him a lot and I very much would like if he would like to be a primary partner or try to spend more time with me.

I should have maybe called him when got put of the truck but I couldn't talk then anyway.

I missed his stand up. It was very good this time.

Matt has no issue with me having another partner other than he wants me to be safe and he doesn't want to them invading his privacy and a few other just safety things.

I completely understand after Justin disrespected him to me. That was fucked up.

I would like to sleep but my cats have missed me and despite me chewing my medication (yes I know yuck but in a pinch it works faster) I didn't feel like smoking weed and may only do so if I can't fall asleep due to the physical pain I'm in.

The cats think I'm still stressed, they can smell it. I don't know how to let them know I'm ok. I tried to give them lots of attention and they keep alerting me. Maybe it's the heart issue they're alerting. You can't train cats as well as a dog to alert. They're more natural and communicate differently.

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risusnet · 3 years

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Something there that wasn’t there before.

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: [Y/N] is a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Bruce Wayne is holding a charity gala to help raise some funds for the asylum and [Y/N] along with some colleagues are invited. Her friend and crush Jonathan Crane was one of her co-workers that was invited too and they both enjoy the evening together.

Prompt: “Be still my heart.” Word Count: 2,626

You worked as a psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum and you, along with some of your other co-workers, had been invited to a charity gala hosted by Bruce Wayne which intended to help raise money for the Asylum. You were wearing a beautiful dress that you had picked out a few days earlier and had just parked up in your car outside the gala hall, you sighed feeling nervous to go in. There were going to be so many people there, one of which was Dr. Jonathan Crane, your friend and co-worker who you had been low-key crushing on for the past few years, your heart jumped into your mouth just thinking about him being there.

“I bet he’s wearing something really nice- wait no- he’s just your friend, shut up!” you thought aloud.

You pulled yourself together and got out of your car, shyly walking to the door and trying to distract yourself from the photographers and reporters at the entrance who were also here about the gala.

“Name, please.” said a frightening-looking bouncer,

“Dr. [Y/N] [L/N].” You told him,

“Ah, I see your name, you may enter.”

“Thanks..” you quickly entered the hall.

It was a beautiful venue, priceless golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the corridor with marble lining the floor that led to a foyer. For a corridor it was massive, it felt intimidating. You cautiously wandered onward, the corridor was fairly empty with only a few people littered here and there, some people on the phone, some couples making out and drunk people stumbling around aimlessly. You reached the entrance of the hall and looked around, there were so many rich and famous people here, it was easy to feel like you didn’t belong here. You saw some of your co-workers spanning the hall, there were some of them together in groups, sticking together but then you saw someone in the crowd that was not with the rest of your colleagues. It was Jonathan. It felt like time stopped when you saw him, he was wearing a really lovely suit and you felt your pulse quicken, you took a step backwards and bashfully looked at the ground,

“Be still my heart.” You muttered to yourself.

You braced yourself and walked on into the foyer, you decided to get something to drink to set your head straight. After sipping your drink, you looked up only to lock eyes with none other than Jonathan on the other side of the room. He smiled at you and smiled back, if you had still had the water in your mouth you probably would have spat it out in surprise. Luckily, you were able to hide your surprise pretty well.

The moment was cut short when a man who seemingly worked for Bruce Wayne came onto the stage and told everyone that the ballroom was now open and people began to make their way in the direction of the ballroom. You put your drink down and followed the crowd, you could see Jonathan up ahead in the corner of your eye and you tried to ignore him for your own good, however, you were doing a terrible job at that.

Once you entered the ballroom, you were mesmerised by how enchanting it truly was in here. You took in every last corner of it and smiled in awe. Your eyes travelled back down again and you suddenly felt a little shy again, remembering Jonathan was here. You really had to get a hold of yourself and forget your feelings whilst you were here, you had to act professional!

A soft song was being played by the orchestra they had hired and many people had already coupled off and started dancing and talking in the ballroom, you found a place off to the side to stand and took in the environment. Jonathan walked over to you and stood next to you,

“[L/N], Hello.” He nodded in your direction,

“Crane, good to see you.” You responded.

“It’s rather, chaotic, in here, isn’t it?” He smiled,

“Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming,” you laughed a little.

You looked in his direction slightly, he was still just as handsome as before, shit. You ended up catching Jonathan's gaze on accident, to which caused him to speak,

“Would you like to dance for a little?” He said, his tone slightly softer than previously. You paused, you wanted to, but felt shy, how typical.

“Are you sure?” you crossed your arms and looked at him,

“It might be fun, plus, we may as well get in a few of the photos from the event.” He joked,

“Alright, sure, let’s go.” You both walked into the main area of the room where people were dancing. Your mind felt like it was literally screaming at you, you weren’t sure if it was in an ‘Oh my god, this is so exciting’ way or a ‘No no no no no, abort abort, abort mission’ way. Anyway, you still seemed pretty composed and he took your hand, either way. You started to lazily dance along with everyone else, you felt completely in your element and yet completely out of it at the same time, a very strange feeling, maybe it was just the nervousness.

Funnily, photographs were taken of you both, you spied it just out of the corner of your eye and you’re pretty sure he noticed too. Dancing with Jonathan and now you have proof of it? There’s some bragging rights!

“Wait- what if people get the wrong idea? I’m gonna be hassled by questions and rumours going back into work.” You thought in your head.

“What if those ideas are good ideas?” a voice replied. Voices aren’t meant to reply to you in our head so that means that…

“Huh- Did I say that out loud-” you felt a little embarrassed, then you remembered what he responded with, “..Hey, wait a minute-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut you off with a grin. Is he going to ignore what he said? Great, now you are going to worry about it, or more specifically, you are not going to stop thinking about this. Maybe, ever.

“If you say so.” Your eyes held a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity, whilst he looked slightly smug. There was a vague air of flirtatiousness between the two of you as you continued dancing, you both spoke to each other in a manner that wasn’t flirting, but borderline was. However, it was usually like this when you spoke, you just had that kind of dynamic. You can’t blame yourself for catching feelings in an atmosphere like that, right?

You felt a lot more comfortable than earlier, you had probably just gotten used to his presence. He was always good company and the rest of the bustling gala just seemed to phase out. There had come a point in which you and Jonathan had stopped speaking altogether and just had your eyes fixed on each other. You guys were also having a… moment? You were edging closer and closer to one another absentmindedly and a layer of tension filled the air.

“Guests! Thank you for coming to this lovely gala we have been hosting today!” Oh yeah, that’s where you were. You and Jonathan stopped dancing and turned to face the voice and saw Bruce Wayne now on the stage introducing the event. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You all probably already know why this gala is being thrown today, we are here to support our very own Arkham Asylum and its employees who work tirelessly to try to reform the criminals it holds. The dining hall is now ready for everyone so if you follow the butlers they will direct you to your seating! Thank you.” Bruce gave a winning smile and moved away from the microphone and off of the stage.

You looked to Jonathan who nodded in the direction of the hall and you both started to make your way over.

The room was beautiful, with hundreds of tables brimming the hall. You stuck to Jonathan like glue, because despite all of the friendly-seeming faces, it was still pretty nerve-racking and he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to enjoy being your protector.

You were eventually seated, with Jonathan being in the seat next to you on your right. You were glad for that, at least. Apart from him, you were surrounded by a load of unfamiliar faces that lined your table, not that that was surprising, you couldn’t recognise 90% of the people attending this.

There was a lot of, ‘How do you do’s and ‘What is your name’ and ‘Where do you work’ as everyone around you settled in. They asked you and Jonathan many questions about your jobs upon learning that you both worked at the asylum.

“So, Dr. Crane, what’s it like working with a bunch of criminals? Isn’t it dangerous?” one woman who appeared to be quite rich asked. She wore an expensive dress and a face full of extravagant makeup.

“Ah, well, we don’t just have them running rampant with a knife or such whilst we are in appointments with them.” His comment earned some laughter from the table. He was good at this, you smiled to yourself knowing you were in good hands and that you could relax a little because Jonathan knew what he was doing.

A different man, one who sat on your left side began to strike up a conversation with you.

“Dr. [L/N], a pleasure to finally talk to you. I have been meaning to ever since I saw you arrive!” This comment earned a suspicious side-eye from Jonathan but he quickly looked away and continued the conversation he was in.

“Oh, well it’s an honour to meet you, sir.” you politely responded and extended your arm to shake his hand, which he took, shook and lingered for a bit too long before releasing it.

“You must be very intelligent to be a psychiatrist. Where did you study?” He leaned over remotely closer, awaiting your reply.

“Gotham University for the most part! I enjoyed my time there, actually.” You tried to be oblivious to how he was acting, but it was super off-putting.

“Ah, a good one. I have known friends who have attended there!” His breath stinks of booze. He was closer still and you were starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I’m sorry, but could you excuse me. I think I need to use the restroom.” He nodded his head and you stood up. Jonathan had an idea of what was going on and waited two minutes before leaving too.

You walked as fast as you could to get yourself some air. You were back in the foyer and nearly at the bathroom when a hand grabbed your wrist.

“[Y/N]!” You turned around and your eyes were met with Jonathan. “Are you alright?”

“I’m... I’m sorry. Everything was just really… hectic. I needed some air…” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Was it that man? Did he make you feel uneasy, or something?” His eyes looked full of care and concern. He really knew you well.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you out here, you can go, you don’t have to worry.” You tried to brush it off but he could tell how it got to you. He moved his hand, which was still holding your wrist, to hold your hand.

“I’m not just going to leave you here when you’re like this. I’m someone who cares for you.” He sounded truly earnest, it made your heartbeat speed up when he said that. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me. If it will make you feel better, we can switch seats. If he tries anything, even if he looks at you in a strange way, I’ll see to it myself.”

“Jonathan… Thanks.” You smiled to which he returned it.

“Shall we?” His facial expression shifted to a smirk.

“We shall.”

You both made your way back to the table, sitting in each other’s seats. You realised you were still holding hands and had to unfortunately let go to sit down. You settled back down and the man from earlier began to speak.

“I think you two are sitting in the wrong seats.” He was so clearly annoyed but tried not to show his frustration by placing an obvious artificial smile on his lips.

“Hm, it seems that we are,” Jonathan said, turning to you. “Ah well, no point in getting up again.” He shrugged and was pulled into another conversation with someone on the table.

At some point, you had ended up placing your head on his shoulder to lean against which he let you do. It was comfy and by the time you realised you had done so, it had been about 5 minutes and he was fine with it so you decided to bask in the moment.

Bruce Wayne, that mysterious rich guy, was once again back on the stage.

“Hello everyone,” he had a drink and a tiny spoon in his hand which he clinked to the glass to command everyone’s attention. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear, is the best part, where I give you all a load of free food! Feel free to indulge yourselves as the butlers bring the food and beverages around to the tables.” Then he confidently strode off the stage and back to his seat. His table was less full of businessmen in suits and more full of beautiful women in expensive dresses.

Everyone turned back to their conversations as trays and plates came out of the ginormous kitchen hiding somewhere in the back. There were all sorts of food that you had yet to try in your life but you were eager to. You had to sit up though so that meant lifting your head off of Jonathan’s shoulder.

You, along with the rest of the guests began to eat the food served. Whilst also maintaining some light conversation. By this time, you had quite the collection of business cards handed to you by various people at this table.

Bruce stood up to toast to the event, “Here is a toast, to this pleasant gala and to those we are holding it for. A toast to all of the incredible employees of Arkham Asylum who are and aren’t here today!” He raised his glass which everyone else followed suit with.

Half an hour later and everyone was finishing up their meals and you too felt very full and idly set your head back onto Jonathan’s shoulder. You looked up at him from there and he looked back, laughing a little before looking away again.

The gala was starting to wrap up and people were starting to leave. Bruce went onto the stage to say his official goodbye causing a massive flock of people to also call it a night for them there.

“We should probably give it a minute before leaving, save getting trampled.” Jonathan looked to you, who was still leisurely resting on his shoulder.

“You’re right.” You said watching people leave, “This was surprisingly fun.”

“I agree, I didn’t expect to have this nice of a time. Maybe it’s just thanks to you though.” Jonathan now rested his head atop yours.

“I’m glad you were here too.” You sighed happily.

“We should see each other outside of work more.” He said, nonchalantly.

“That would be nice.”

“Are you free next Saturday?” Oh wow, he’s good, real smooth.

“Yeah, in fact, I am.”

“Looks like we’ll be doing this again soon, then.” He had that smug grin again. Then sat up, took your hand and you both walked out together.

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 3 years

Text

I and Love and You

The fifth in Rafael Barba/Reader/Frederick Chilton threesome verse written in collaboration with @pascalispretty . Mood board also by the lovely and talented @pascalispretty !! Yep. We did this. Was it necessary? No. Did we enjoy it? Sometimes. Are you going to read it? I sure hope you do and that you like it! Cross posted on ao3!

Part Five of the series So Much Easier than You Realize

Warnings: Total and complete tooth rotting fluff. Schedule an appointment with your dentists, ladies and germs. Rafael is, as always, a bit of a jackass. You will probably have an incurable craving for breakfast food. And the teeniest tiniest mention of daddy kink. Rating: E for everyone because there is nothing objectionable in this at all, I did not think we could actually write something this sweet lol. Word Count: 3725 Summary: Mornings are for cookies and contemplation.

When Rafa wakes up, he spares a moment to sympathize with his growling stomach. More than one moment, if he’s being honest with himself. He isn’t normally an early riser but his stomach wouldn’t be so empty if he’d been allowed to have his bedtime snack and not rudely distracted by his two partners and an ingenious application of his second favorite blue tie. The result is pleasantly sore abdominal muscles and the rare opportunity to wake up in time to see the both of them still peacefully asleep in bed next to him.

Fred’s back is pressed close to his chest and his legs brush against Rafa’s as he levers himself up onto his elbow to look at her on Fred’s other side. Her face is tucked against Fred’s neck and the doctor’s arms are wrapped tightly around her, and Rafa smiles at them both, still asleep in the soft grey early morning light.

Fred shifts, and an irritable frown passes over his face the longer Rafa uses him to balance himself to stare at the two of them, so Rafa quickly presses a kiss to his temple before settling back down with a sigh.

It’s too early to be up, really, but he’s starving and is not getting back to sleep without eating something. He grunts and sits up before pressing another kiss to Fred’s shoulder. He swings his legs out of bed and grabs a pair of grey sweatpants.

Rafa trudges down the hall to the kitchen. There were still Bugles hidden in the back of Fred’s Tupperware cabinet. Oh shit, had he eaten them all? He flicks on the light to the kitchen and huffs a quiet laugh when he finds a sticky note on the door of said cabinet in Fred’s small, precise handwriting.

Sorry, I ate the last of your chips two days ago. In my defense, counselor, you left them in my house and I was having a very stressful day. I made you cookies instead, they’re on top of the microwave. I figured you’d be up before the both of us this morning since you didn’t get your snack. --An Apologetic Psychiatrist who feels like he shouldn’t be apologizing for eating food in his own cupboards.

Rafa runs his fingers over the note a few times, smiling like an idiot, his heart feeling full and warm and about seven sizes larger than it was when he woke up. He turns his head and sees a plastic container (with a green lid because the green Tupperware was for storage of baked goods as Fred was constantly reminding him) right where Fred said it would be, and when he steps over to investigate it further he finds a batch of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Another note is stuck to the lid.

I know these aren’t your favorite. I know that you don’t really enjoy white chocolate. Consider this my attempt to make sure you don’t eat all of these in one sitting. Please limit yourself to two; you aren’t in your 20’s anymore, Rafael, and it’s not even a normal time for breakfast yet, much less cookies. --A Not Apologetic Psychiatrist who doesn’t want your first heart attack to be in his apartment, thank you very much.

Rafa rolls his eyes and peels the lid off, smirking as he deliberately takes three out of the box. He doesn’t hate white chocolate, after all, and he does love macadamia nuts. And he has always had a problem following instructions.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Rafa eats his cookies with a pleased groan, once again thanking whatever saints or angels his mami appeals to for sending him a partner that bakes. Not that he thinks his mother would have prayed for someone at all like Fred. Fussy, officious, arrogant, snobby, and, well, a man. His mother would have had someone like their younger lover in mind however. Smart, pretty, and willing to stand up to his attitude. Most of the time anyways. Well, what did Lucia Barba always say? You can make as many requests of God as you want to but remember that He has a sense of humor too? She got him a little extra than what her original request probably specified.

Rafa snorts at the thought and brushes crumbs off his bare chest, leaning back against the counter and surveying the kitchen in the growing light. He’s still hungry but he knows he’ll hear about it if Fred wakes up and all of those cookies are gone. And today is supposed to be the one day this whole month the three of them can spend just being quiet together with no plans, no work, and no prior obligations. He’d rather not spend it all dodging Fred’s passive aggressive jabs and her pouting looks and quiet pleas to please just be the bigger man and apologize.

He stretches his arms out on the counter behind him and tips his head back, staring absently at Fred’s kitchen ceiling as he contemplates making his way back to bed and napping until Fred wakes up and decides to order in breakfast. He’s nearly settled on that plan when he catches sight out of the corner of his eye of the bright blue note on the cupboard. He doesn’t remember Fred spending any time in the kitchen before the two of them dragged Rafa into the bedroom to put his ties to a much more interesting use. He must have gotten out of bed after Rafa fell asleep to put this together, and Rafa can’t help the smile that spreads over his entire face.

Rafa slaps his palms on the counter and shoves himself off, making his way over to the fridge to see what Fred has in the way of actual food. He’s already awake; the least he can do is make breakfast.

He finds the ingredients for pancakes easily enough--Fred is a stickler for organization. Rafa tries not to make a mess as he moves around the perfectly arranged and spotless kitchen. He stirs the batter by hand rather than risk the noise of the KitchenAid but pauses over whether or not to put chocolate chips in.

She would be pleased, her sweet tooth nearly rivals his own, but Fred would almost definitely be annoyed. Especially because Rafa has already had chocolate earlier in the morning. With a fond sigh, Rafa puts the glass jar back in the cupboard, though not before tipping a few of the chocolate chips out into his hand.

It reminds him of cooking in Fred’s beautiful house in Baltimore, his sweet girl laughing and dancing around the kitchen in one of Fred’s shirts, barely being any help at all. All three of them adore the big, beautiful house that Fred had shyly shown them--as if they could have done anything else other than fall in love with it.

Fred relaxed slightly when it became clear that his guests found the house as beautiful as he did. Rafa tried to help her in slowing Fred down as he showed it to them, asking questions about particular objects or features and pointing out the things they especially admired. Every sincere compliment kept a gratified little smile plastered on Fred’s face--and there was plenty to compliment him on.

It’s clear that it holds a special place in Fred’s heart. It’s so him, every inch of it reflecting back the man who poured so much time and effort and money into making it a home. From the collection of antique medical texts carefully displayed on the shelves to the exact shade of teal velvet upholstery on some of the armchairs, Fred had lavished attention on the house to surround himself with things he loved and found beautiful. It amused Rafa to wonder if he’d taken that into account when he’d invited his partners over; whether they’d laud the elegant aesthetic he’d established in his home.

Shifting the spoon briefly to give his right hand a break from mixing, he smiles at the memory. He’s never actually admitted to Fred how much he likes playing house with his two partners there. Rafa is fairly certain that the kitchen in the Baltimore house is larger than the apartment that he grew up in and he knows that a wine cellar is an absurd luxury. But it’s a place where the three of them are free to be themselves, without worrying about nosy neighbors and doormen.

Rafa snorts quietly, folding the batter briskly to get out all the little flour bubbles. That pretty well explains how he feels about Fred too. Fred is too high maintenance, too abrasive in all the ways Rafa normally hates, too… prep school, but Rafa can’t help but smile indulgently every time he turns his nose up at a meal that costs less than fifty dollars, or every time he gets that prissy stubborn look on his face, or juts his chin out and point blank refuses to admit that he’s wrong (even though Rafa can tell that he knows that he is).

He never apologizes either. Ever. He’ll be proven wrong, he’ll hurt both their feelings, and the closest to any sort of acknowledgment of wrongdoing that the both of them will get will be a cup of coffee in bed the next morning, one of Fred’s most handsome smiles, and the complete and sudden cessation of all hostilities like the fight never happened. Rafa knows that with anyone else that kind of behavior would be a relationship killer.

Rafa looks over the batter and nods to himself, satisfied with the consistency, and balances the spoon against the side of the bowl. He stares at the oven and frowns. Just pancakes hardly make breakfast. Going over to the fridge, he grabs bacon out of its particular place, rolling his eyes as he does so, and tosses it on the counter next to the pancake batter, reaching under the silverware drawer for a frying pan.

Maybe it’s the way Fred ‘apologizes’ with the perfect cup of coffee instead of actual words. Maybe it’s that same perfect cup of coffee that somehow manages to find its way onto his desk at work when he’s too swamped to go out and get one--just because Fred knows he needs it. Or a sandwich from his favorite deli and a quick flash of that handsome smile on Fred’s lunch break.

Rafa gets started on actually cooking said breakfast, hissing and swearing quietly when he gets a first-hand demonstration of why you shouldn’t fry things without a shirt on. Fred would have more than a few words to say to him about the relative intelligence of what he’s doing right now. He grins. Maybe that’s it--the way he cares while trying desperately to make it seem like every time it’s an inconvenience of the highest order.

Maybe Rafa loves Fred because every once in a while, when he’s very drunk, very tired, or the perfect combination of both, Fred slips a little and calls the both of them by those cute, ridiculous southern pet names that before now Rafa would have put money on being more myth than fact. And how embarrassed he is when it is pointed out to him that he just called a forty-something year old man ‘pickle’.

Fred is arrogant, prickly, particular, and both overindulgent and overly judgmental of vices depending on if he himself shares in them. He is a pain to get along with most of the time and sometimes treats the two of them like they’re made of spun gold--things to be cherished and well looked after and shown off to the best of his ability. He’s a contradictory monster and Rafa loves him.

He has a feeling that the smile on his face is sappy and ridiculous, but as he turns the bacon and settles to wait a few more minutes, he shrugs. There isn’t anyone else around this early to see him; his reputation as a son of a bitch and a jackass won’t be ruined. He loves Fred. He loves her. He loves both of them--sometimes so much it’s hard for him to keep it to himself and wait for them to come to the same conclusion. Their individual faults, foibles, and perfections and the way they mesh with each other and fit so surprisingly well in his own life.

Like getting new book recommendations from her--whenever he has the time to actually read something for fun. She leaves them on his home desk with a brief explanation why she thinks he’ll like them. That almost always makes up for the numerous occasions he has gone looking for one of his own books and found it had mysteriously jumped off its shelf and walked itself three rooms over, or managed to find itself completely out of order.

He drains the bacon onto a paper towel covered plate and gives the pan a quick rinse. He loves finding packets of M&M’s in his briefcase or in his suit coat pockets, loves knowing they’re from her and that she braved Fred’s ire to indulge his habit of constant snacking. A habit Fred particularly despises. He loves--most of the time--being a couple minutes late to work some mornings because she got into a nearly incoherent argument with him about what color tie he should wear. He loves that she loves his wardrobe as much as he does.

Rafa loves ganging up with her to tease Fred and loves that she can take some teasing herself. He loves that she just rolls her eyes and plays along when his puckish side emerges and he can’t help but be an asshole even though he can tell she would rather he didn’t.

Rafa starts pouring pancake batter, chuckling to himself when he recalls the mood she’d gotten into the last time his sense of humor had gotten the better of him. While waiting for a table in a restaurant, a strange woman had made a snide comment about ‘men dating women young enough to be their daughters’ and Rafa had been unable to resist feigning outrage and asking what was so terrible about a man taking his daughter out for a nice birthday dinner.

The woman had been mortified, and Rafa had enjoyed the look on her face so much that he’d only hammered the point home further, telling her it was hardly his fault he was a widower and a single parent. He hoped it had taught her a valuable lesson in boundaries. His sweet girl had been so embarrassed but it had been so worth it.

Flipping the first pancake, he thinks about the flaws that come with her youth. She’s always the first one to joke about having daddy issues and Rafa can hardly deny how much he enjoys hearing her call him papi--and Fred daddy--in bed. He just has to try not to think too deeply about it. Not that Rafa really has a leg to stand on where difficult paternal relationships are concerned. But her jokes mask an insecurity and a clinginess that Fred has a habit of overindulging. More than once when he’s been trying to work she’s tried to distract him or cuddle up to him and then gotten sulky when he had to gently but firmly rebuff her.

When he finally finishes work on those evenings, he usually finds her wrapped around Fred instead, giving him a wounded look when he finally emerges from behind his case files. Those looks are wordless guilt trips every time he’s on the receiving end of one--no matter how right he feels in his decision to work instead of play.

And yet somehow she’s worked the same magic on him that Fred has. A flaw that in anyone else would have stopped any idea of a relationship in its tracks is something that he’s come to love about her. Her clinginess comes from a place of emotional fragility and it must be hard to let her partners see that. The fact that she trusts them enough to be so vulnerable around them makes Rafa’s heart swell. He can’t help but love her, even when he’s dealing with her pouting and huffing.

Fred talks about it like Rafa is somehow being ungrateful, that he should drop everything to spend time with his beautiful, smart, young lover, and it drives Rafa crazy. He knows that Fred generally means well when he tries to appeal against his more workaholic tendencies, but he also knows that Fred could retire now and live off his trust fund if he wanted. It rubs him the wrong way when Fred tries to discourage him from working hard because he’s never needed to understand why Rafa works as hard as he does.

He starts stacking the cooked pancakes on a plate on the stove and furrows his brow in concentration. Fred gleefully indulges her in her clinginess, dropping everything to scoop her into his arms or take her to bed. They’ve even taken to napping together with his cock still tucked inside her, as if they can’t bear to be anything other than as close as physically possible. He’s stubbornly blind to the fact that Rafa can’t just drop what he’s doing. If Fred misses a deadline for submitting a journal article the worst that happens is it gets pushed back an issue. If Rafa misses something in his case files or submits something late or fails to prepare as fully as he should, it can ruin lives. Dangerous predators can be let out on the street to offend again. People don’t get the justice they deserve. And even in this day and age, a poor boy with a Spanish name is granted a lot less leeway with employers than a rich boy with a nice American name and family money.

They come from very different worlds, even if Rafa has carefully and thoroughly infiltrated Fred’s, and Rafa loves and hates it a little that Fred forgets that most of the time. Rafa has to always be ‘on’ and can’t afford the same kind of laxness that Fred can.

Sometimes he even has to be ‘on’ at home when he’d rather put his fist through a wall or wrap himself in every blanket in the apartment with a bottle of scotch and pass out. Like when he walks into whichever apartment they’re spending the night at to find Fred in a screaming match with her that he has to moderate. She likes to complain that he and Fred can really get into it like a pair of children, and he isn’t saying she’s wrong—they definitely can—but she and Fred are just as bad. Frankly, the three of them are cut from the same cloth when it comes to being pig headed and it makes for some rather loud and spirited fights.

Like the frequent battles she has with Fred over her occasional smoking habit. They always start out with Fred gently chiding and somehow end up with Fred snidely pulling out his “I went to medical school, therefore everyone else is a moron” voice and her reminding him that he couldn’t cut it as a real doctor and she’ll “smoke a goddamn fucking cigarette every once in a while if she fucking feels like it.” Rafa tries to interfere before it descends to “as much as you like to act like it sometimes, Frederick, you aren’t my father” and “maybe if you knew how to make better choices you wouldn’t be constantly seeking validation from older men,” but he doesn’t always get home in time and instead walks in to the both of them glaring icily at each other or shouting as many deliberately hurtful things as they can.

He likes to leave his courtroom face at work, but it’s generally the only thing that will defuse those battles, or at least calm them down into cold wars. Rafa doesn’t particularly enjoy playing mediator on the best of days, especially not when one wrong word from him will have one or both of them turning on him as another enemy combatant. He likes his occasional cigarette too, and he snacks constantly, and eats terribly; all things that Fred will use to drag him into a fight.

But while he hates trying to calm them down enough to at least stop yelling, he has to admit he loves having people around to yell in the first place. Yes, these fights mean he has to put on his lawyer face when he’d rather get drunk and pass out. But he has people in his life to break up fights between. He can come “home” to people who care about him. People who, when they aren’t screaming, see him come through the door and smile. People who would, and have on occasion, drop what they are doing to bring him something he left at home and needs now. People who drop a sandwich on his desk when he’s working and quietly--most of the time-- leave him to it.

People who care and appreciate him.

Rafa finishes setting plates and cutlery out on the island and starts the coffee maker. He loves having them a few rooms away. He loves knowing that they like him enough to put up with his “shoebox sized apartment”, with him being an incurable workaholic, with the fact that when he gets stressed or angry he lashes out at anyone around him. With the fact that when he does he can be more than a little cruel.

Rafa makes his way back into Fred’s bedroom, wincing as always at how bright it gets when the morning sun fully hits it. He smiles when he sees them still tucked against each other just like he had left them. He loves this view the most.

Rafa grins mischievously. They put up with his innate tendency to be a complete and utter jackass, and that is one more thing he loves about them.

“I just rearranged every single cupboard, bookshelf, and drawer in your entire apartment, Frederick!” Rafa informs the room in general. Loudly.

Fred’s eyes snap open and he sits up, dislodging his sleeping companion without a second glance. His gaze lands on Rafa, who is smirking next to him, and his eyes go comically wide in horror.

“Rafael Barba, you didn’t.”

Tag List: @sassyada, @dreamlover31, @prurientpuddlejumper, @storiesofsvu

#rafael barba x frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x frederick chilton #frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #frederick chilton #law and order svu #hannibal #fanfiction #fanfic

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realcube · 3 years

Text

LEAVING MIDORIYA

part one (nsfw) | part two

tw// mentions of toxic relationships, drinking & mention of a bombing

honestly, if you were given enough time you probably could’ve figured it out on your own — without the assistance of a psychiatrist — but exactly one appointment later, you were left with the disheartening realisation that you weren’t having ‘bad dreams’ and the marks on your body weren’t inflicted by yourself during slumber. eventually, the fact set in that it was your sweet, gentle fiancée who was the cause of all these things.

this whole time, you were under the impression that you were the problem, that there was a malicious part of you that wanted to paint deku out to be some sort of villain; and now you were finally made aware that a villain is exactly what he is.

it was a hard conclusion to come to but the initial wave of relief you felt was enough to make you act on it quickly, as the more you waited around and let the fact sink in, the more you doubted whether or not to take action. but reasoning isn’t what you need right now, you just need to get away from him.

where will you go? you had no idea, but any where away from him is good enough.

midoriya didn’t even get enough time to try fill your head with even more lies. you came marching into the apartment with the intention of ignoring everything he says and simply pack your stuff so you can leave. no matter how much he screamed, begged or yelled, it was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall hence he eventually gave in, leaving you to collect your things in peace as there was clearly no way he was going to get through to you.

you left without another word — not even a goodbye — and you were sure to sneak your engagement ring out with you. although it made you sick to look at, realistically you might need the cash since as soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment with your shit in bags, you were officially homeless.

no need to worry though, you had arranged to stay the night at a friend’s house until tomorrow morning, then you could catch the train to your parent’s. from there, you’d stay with them until you manage to find a new apartment within your price range.

one problem; your friend just texted you saying that they have to retract their offer because their landlord doesn’t allow over two people to sleep in the same dorm, and they already have a roommate. very unfortunate but hey, what can you do? plus, they apologised and offered to pay for your hotel but you reassured them that their money wouldn’t be necessary.

now sitting outside your old apartment complex, scrolling through your phone looking for the nearest hotel. since both you and deku were well-paid pro-heroes and bought a penthouse in a rather affluent area, it was no surprise that most of the hotels that were reasonably close were from 4-5 stars.

although a 5-star hotel room for one night really wasn’t necessary, the post-breakup adrenaline was telling you otherwise. it also told you that treating yourself to a shopping spree, getting wine drunk at a bar and then shuffling back to the hotel with mcdonald’s take-out was a great idea!

those emotional discussions you had with complete strangers must’ve really gotten to you because when you opened your front camera to take some pictures, you immediately grimaced at the sight of your mascara staining your cheeks. you were lazing around in the hotel lobby surrounded by name brand gift bags — waiting for your room key — looking like that? how embarrassing.

quickly wiping away your tears, you put on a pair of designer sunglasses you brought earlier to shield your smudged eye-makeup from the world. not that you cared what anyone in this damn lobby thought of you anyway, you were only going to be here for one night, after that you would never see most of these people again. or at least, that is what you thought.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw flashing lights which prompted you to take out your earbuds but once you did, you instantly regretted it as all you heard was screaming and yelling from the entrance. looking up, you noticed an average-looking guy wearing a skull tank top resembling the fashion sense of a middle schooler, being followed by a mob of screaming fans, paparazzi and gossip channel reporters.

“dynamight! thank you for everything!”

“you deserve to be number one!”

“we are here at scene, pro-hero dynamight has just been seen entering what appears to be his five star accommodation, wearing his signature blac--”

the loud noises were suddenly muffled as the doorman shut the entrance behind him, leaving things just as they were, except now there was a muscular blond man encircled by bodyguards staring daggers at you.

in any other situation, you would’ve just tried your best to ignore him but some of that liquid courage was beginning to get to you, so your reaction was to snarl right back at him, yelling across the hall, “take a picture, why don’t ya? it’ll last longer.”

only upon processing your reply did the man finally snap out of his trance and storm up to, being hastily followed by his guards who looked as though they were ready to throw down at any given moment, so of course you cowered back in your seat, apologies waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill until his face was hovering centimetres away from yours.

your throat ran dry at his unexpected action, your eyes scanning over his chiselled features through the tint of your glasses. in a turn of events, you were now the one speechlessly staring at him. then, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat, causing the shock to show on your expression.

“i knew i recognised you! you’re stupid deku’s girlfriend- fiancée or whatever; i saw the invite for your wedding in my mail and i just got a look at your face before i threw it away. small world.” the blond continued to laugh, talking to you as if you were an old friend of his despite the fact you’ve never seen him before in your life, “anyway, you like a hot fuckin’ mess. where’s deku?”

why was he talking to you so casually? and how dare he say that!

“first of all,” you started, peering over your glasses to gaze at his face without the rose tint but to no avail, you still had no idea who this man is. using the soles of your palm, you pushed him away by the shoulders as he was a bit too close for comfort, but that resulted in all his guard looking at you with murderous glints in their eyes. “deku and i broke up--”

“when?” he cut you off

“let me finish.” you glared at him, fixing your sunglasses, “we broke up this morning. secondly, who the fuck are you?”

the man looked like he was ready to burst out laughing once again until he had a visible realisation, “eh, well, we’ve never met before but i’m sure deku has told you about me. if not, you’ve probably seen me in the news; i saved around a thousa--”

“no, i’ve not watched the news for, like, the past six months.” this time, you cut him off with a mischievous smirk which you tried your best to conceal.

“bitch! let me fuckin’ finish!” he barked, then had a sudden change in demeanour as he let out a sigh, momentarily silent as he scanned the surrounding area, “i’m bakugo. kastuki.”

your reply of a blank stare spoke a thousand words.

“y’know, dynamight.”

who?

“the number two hero!”

nothing.

“the one who saved that whole airline from blowing up just a week ago! c’mon, it was all over the fuckin’ news!”

“you look like a hotter version of my old maths teacher. oh, and i’m (y/n) (l/n).” was the only verbal response he was able to get out of you, even after all his explaining.

“why do you i feel like you are sayin’ that just to piss me off?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, followed by a sharp inhale which you assumed was an attempt to calm himself down. his carnelian eyes darted around the room, halting once he raised his arm to view his watch. his brows knitted together as he read the time, forming a concentrated look which was short-lived as his face was quick to relax, emphasised by a slight shrug as if to say ‘i’ve got time’, before slumping down on the couch next to you.

“so why did you and shitty deku break up?”

“i may be a bit tipsy but i’m not just gonna tell that sorta stuff to a complete stranger.” each syllable felt like it had to be forced out one at a time, but you’d rather that than slur you speech as bakugo seemed like the type to poke fun at you for it.

“i just wanna know how badly he fucked up this time.” bakugo smirked, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to turn and look at you, “eh, i don’t think we’ll be strangers for long.”

there was a certain purr in this voice which sent blood rushing to your cheeks as you never expect someone like him to come on so strong. not that you were complaining, i mean, being in his presence during a time like this felt like a gift from god but you weren’t going to let him know that. it’d only add to his already massive ego so you decided to ignore his suggestive behaviour, opting to show disinterest instead, “hm, you think?”

it was almost comical how fast bakugo’s cocky smirk fell into a frown. honestly, he wasn’t used to people that he flirts with rejecting him, considering that he rarely ever makes moves on anyone. so, now what did he do? due to the foreign nature of this situation, bakugo felt as though he was left with no choice but to bargain, since he’s far from a quitter, “oi, what that supposed to mean?”

you shrug.

bakugo clicked his tongue along with a roll of his eyes before he said, “how ‘bout this; i pay for your room tonight and in exchange we can get to know each other tomorrow.”

“i can pay for my own room though.”

bakugo deadpanned, he honestly thought he had won but apparently not. perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to hit on someone who had just gotten out of a relationship but whatever. “you’re impossible.” he spat, getting up from the couch and marching away, presumably to his room.

he tried to brush off the encounter like it never happened, reassuring himself that he didn’t have to think much of it as he could get with anyone else. plus, you’d probably come crawling back to him, begging to fuck once you get over deku anyway.

and he was half right.

eventually, you came to the realisation that both you and bakugo have one thing in common — a hatred for deku. and as it turns out, hatred provides a good groundwork for friendship.

#deku angst #izuku angst #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #midoriya angst #👾angst #i'll probably have to make a part 4 for this to make sense

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somecunttookmyurl · 3 years

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This discussion has all been very interesting timing for me because I think I’m starting the process of getting an ADHD diagnosis.

I’ve had lots of executive functioning issues for a long time that generally get worse during school or when I try and hold a job longer than 6 months.

It’s always been attributed to anxiety and depression (which made sense with how I felt and my family history) but SSRIs always felt like they were just turning off my emotions and not fixing any of my issues.

After having a total meltdown this past semester I decided to go back to therapy and I just had my first intro appointment. After like 30 minutes of talking about my symptoms he’d asked if I’d ever thought I might have ADHD. I said that there were some symptoms people talked about that I could relate to, but I wasn’t sure.

THEN HE ASKED ME ABOUT CAFFEINE. My entire life I thought people were exaggerating how caffeine felt (super awake, jittery, etc) the same way “sugar rush” is a made up thing. For me it’s always helped me relax and focus more. I can’t watch movies without it caffeine or I just get distracted by my thoughts.

I’ve always had sleep problems because it feels like my brain just won’t turn off and doctors have blamed it on my caffeine intake and didn’t listen when I said caffeine has never affected me like that. I can have like a liter of diet pepsi and then take a really good nap or just fully go to bed.

I didn’t know that was an ADHD thing. I wish I’d brought it up to someone earlier and maybe I could’ve been diagnosed and treated before I failed out of college the first two times 🤦‍♀️

it really would save everybody so much time and hassle if we simply included the caffeine question as a diagnostic

my ADHD therapist thinks it's awesome i yell about stuff on here bc i just. so many people have bad psychs or don't understand their symptoms or don't know what the drugs are supposed to be doing and then they come back later like "THANKS WE FIXED IT"

bc the thing is psychiatrists do not study psychology. they go to regular medical school and then do a year or two specialisation in psychiatric drugs but that's all they are required to do. mostly they're useless on fucking purpose and it has been the bane of my existence since i was getting my psychology degree in 08/09

i'm not going back into clinical bc i would murder the weird neurotypicals who go into it within a week, but fuck it if i can sit here shouting what i know into the void and it helps then that's good enough. even if all it does is prompt you guys to look into shit.

but every time i correct some dumbass psychiatrist's decisions from halfway around the world it adds a year to my life i'm gonna be fucking immortal at this rate

#i was tallying how many people have gotten diagnosis and treatment #SOLELY from me asking The Caffeine Question #but i lost count a while back #it's a fucking lot though it's a LOT

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throwingmuses · 2 years

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need 2 vent about the shit show that was the doctors appt i had yesterday 🤩 cw for weight ment and other eating disorder stuff

ok so basically its been an extreme pain to get into this ed program because i need medical clearance (including blood work) before i can start bc the clinic isnt equipped to help treat medical issues. essentially i have to have a doctor order the blood test or else id have to pay out of pocket and order the tests myself (which i definitely dont have the money for rn), but the soonest appointment my doctor had available was over a month out. so i tried going to several of those walk in clinics and all of them gave me some convoluded answer essentially saying they couldnt help me. finally i found someplace that let me make an appointment with another doctor that was a bit sooner than my other one, so i went ahead and did that. i walked into it expecting it to be pretty brief, and i was confused at first why the doctor was doing a psych assessment when all i needed was a quick physical checkup??? but i was really tired and confused so i just went along with it anyways. from the second i walked in the doctor seemed very irritated and was acting rude for literally no reason. i tried to just let it roll off my shoulders because i desperately needed someone to just order these goddamn blood tests and sign a paper saying im good to go. but then, when she asked me my current height/weight, i told her that i was 5'4 and 120lb, to which she actually fucking responded by saying "Wow, you weigh more than me!" which was EXTREMELY TRIGGERING and has been fucking haunting me in the form of obsessive thoughts ever since. she also implied that my current therapist/psychiatrist wasnt very informed because shes a recent graduate when in reality shes the most knowledgable and up front psych ive ever had and this bitch who thinks shes the hot shit didnt even know that there were different types of bipolar disorder. clearly her "knowledge" of psychology as a whole is extremely outdated. anyways towards the end of the meeting, she told me straight up that the clinic probably wouldnt accept me because im at a healthy weight which is total bullshit because thats not how it works whatsoever and i was already ACCEPTED into the program regardless of my weight. ive had this issue a lot over the years with providers not believing that im anorexic because ive never lost a significant amount of weight and the worst medical issue ive had was having low potassium and almost passing out at work, and im forever fucking baffled as to why that is because i often eat less than 1000 calories per day. like im grateful for my body continuing to take care of me despite all of the hell i put it through, but just because im healthy on paper doesnt mean this shit doesnt terrorize me on a daily basis. anyways at that point i just fucking snapped (which is very out of character for me cuz im rather shy) and i told her that she had no idea what she was even talking about, that anyone with half a brain let alone a degree in psychology shouldnt talk to someone with an eating disorder like that (which she KNEW i had walking into this bc thats what the whole appointment was about), and explaining to her that the stress i have around food is ruining my life and preventing me from doing pretty much anything i want/have to do. after yelling at her she changed her disposition entirely and started acting like a dog with its tail between its legs which was pretty gratifying at least. i was like openly sobbing very loudly afterward tho and like everyone in the office could hear me which i found to be embarassing but Oh Well. then me and my bf talked to her supervisior and told them what happened and they were actually very receptive and apologetic so heres to hoping she gets fired (: also she wasnt even a fuckin doctor so the whole thing was pointless but luckily i got an earlier appointment with my doctor cuz someone cancelled But Yeah Ive Been Fucked Up Ever Since

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newhologram · 3 years

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I know only a few of you are on IG so I wanted to give an update here on the past few days. I am doing this knowing the potential risk but I need to also record where I'm at right now in case anything weird happens.

My week has been like this so far. Sunday: Family Member 1 misplaced their Xbox controller. They kept asking me if I knew where it was, each time growing more and more aggressive. I don't have an Xbox, I reminded them. I have my own controller for my PC. But they kept knocking loudly on my door. They followed me outside where I was vaping and tried to accuse me of I don't even know what. Pawning off their controller? FM1 said, "Is there something going on that you're not telling me? SOMEONE'S messing with me!" Later that night they and their gf were making dinner. FM1 suddenly knocked harshly on my door and said aggressively, "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE OVEN MITTS" in an angry voice. I was already stressed from them harassing me earlier about the controller. I came out of my room, heart racing, and told them I had not used them that day. I helped find the mitts, which had fallen behind the trash can because the hanging hook had broken. I went to bed on edge, feeling unsafe and targeted, wondering why my family member was suddenly acting so paranoid and accusing me of misplacing their things... Something they actually have done to me my whole life, denying it until the moment my item is found, when they suddenly remember they did move it there (or accidentally throw it out/destroy it). The controller ended up being some random place in the living room. Monday: I went to leave for my acupuncture appointment. My booster seat/pillow thing was missing from my car. Not in the trunk or anything. I cannot drive without it. I'm too short to see over the steering wheel. I called FM1 and they have no idea where it could be, despite the fact that they drive my car every day. FM1's gf helped find it, in the garage. But I still had an epic fucking meltdown, sobbing the whole way to and from my appointment. I just cannot handle people moving my shit and disrupting my schedule like that. And it just hurt so much more knowing that FM1 was so awful to me the day before about their stuff being misplaced. I'm always having my personal belongings, my feelings, my personhood, disrespected. It hurts deeply. When I got home I stressed to them that this is my car, and my accommodation should not ever be removed from it under any circumstances. It was after this that I decided it was time to hold a family meeting. I called Family Member 2 and 3 over to the house. I read a long letter to them in which I told them about the talks I have had with my therapist, psychiatrist, and another psychologist. Even though I cannot be formally assessed and diagnosed at this time, I am being treated for autism. I detailed to my family my entire life of trauma that is traced back directly to my autistic traits, and my needs not only not being met, but being outright denied. I was denied empathy most of my life for my sensory issues, my pain, everything. A big part of this is gaslighting. Even if it's unintentional or not malicious, gaslighting is incredibly traumatic. Especially when it comes to my sensory issues. I have had even more problems with overstimulation the past year which means I can barely sleep, so my daily naps are even more important. I try to coordinate my naps when there is less activity in my house. But if I'm in a ton of pain and extra sensitive and ask for quiet, that's when I get in trouble and a fight happens. That's when FM1 tells me I "need to be realistic" and "can't expect the whole world to shut up for you"... when I'm literally saying "I have a migraine and need to rest, can you please not play loud music or slam cupboards in the kitchen for a few hours?"

I was emotionally neglected and abused by both parents. A lot of it is just the result of their own trauma that they have not dealt with... But I have also been physically threatened and assaulted by them at different times, though it only happened those specific times. (They won't ever admit to it though.) The emotional and mental abuse still goes on in my home. I am not allowed to have emotions. I have been told "STOP. WHY ARE YOU CRYING. LIFE'S NOT FAIR. WHEN YOU GET OUT IN THE REAL WORLD YOU'LL HAVE SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT" over and over--like... in response to me crying about my pet dying, or in response to me crying bc I'm in horrible pain from my chronic illnesses, or crying after my usual yearly ER visit. I am also not allowed to have boundaries. I have tried to communicate with FM1 that these things hurt me deeply. And their response is basically, "YOU'RE SO UNGRATEFUL. I PUT A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD!" and threats such as "BETWEEN TAKING CARE OF YOU AND GRANMDA, ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GOING TO DRIVE OFF AND YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!" or "I'M THE ONE WHO SHOULD KILL MYSELF BECAUSE I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU"-- y'know, in response to having a disabled child. Ouch. The message is clear: I am nothing but an inconvenience and a burden to my family. I still have nightmares about them abandoning me, or abusing me more. I think in their heads they think that they love me. But this isn't love. If I try to talk to them about how dangerous it is for them to say things like that to me, they say "I never said/did that." Which brings us back to the gaslighting: I said that every time they gaslight me and tell me that my emotions/thoughts/experiences aren't real, it triggers me so badly that I self-harm and become suicidal.

I was very clear with them: I said that I can no longer have that in my life because one day it will kill me. I don't wanna die that way. I want to live. I have very bad PTSD and it's something I have worked on for 8 years but it has been worse the past year with so many disruptions and FM1's worsening narcissistic traits. I gave the choice to them. I said if they gaslighted me again that they were making the decision to not be in my life. Because this is about preserving my life. I'm trying not to die here. I'm literally trying to save my own life, even if that means not having a relationship with my family. They accept that I am autistic... But they then took turns gaslighting me. When I pointed out, "that's gaslighting. that's exactly what I just said in my letter. What you're doing is gaslighting" they went even harder on it. They said my experience and my trauma is "not in line with reality". They also said I "need to be reasonable" with the boundary that I'm setting (meaning: they don't believe in boundaries at all). They tried to guilt trip me with, "you can't cut someone out of your life because what if they DIE and then you FEEL GUILTY??" (I mean, what if I killed myself because you keep hurting me? Wouldn't you feel guilty about that?) They also guilt tripped me with "well we TRY to invite you to family stuff, and we try to include you, but you never want to go..." um... I guess they forgot I am chronically ill? Sorry if I don't have the energy or pain tolerance to drive an hour each way to a loud family party after I've worked all week? I cried and cried, I said this is exactly what I told you that you do to me and how it endangers my life... and you're doing it... while telling me you don't do it to me... They were all weird and told me "we love you and would do anything for you!" except... I guess, not gaslight me constantly? Idk. I felt so trapped. I felt so hopeless. I was up all night crying. I wondered, "Why is the idea of me having distance from them somehow worse than me being dead? Why would they prefer that I die rather than set a boundary that will save me?" And then I remembered: I had set the terms. They broke them. You do this, you're out of my life, because me being alive is more important than us having a relationship which will eventually kill me. I'm not trapped. It doesn't matter if they think they can prevent me from setting this boundary because they can't. I'm in charge of my boundary. So I blocked them on social media, as well as their phones. I have to unfortunately keep FM1 unblocked bc I live with them, they drive my car, and they look after my cats while I am at work. If I didn't have so many great things happening behind the scenes, if I didn't have my cats, if I didn't have amazing friends and followers who are supportive and kind... I can definitely see that I would have ended my life that night in some alternate timeline. That is how much pain I was in from them doing that to me. Them literally trying to gaslight me into not setting a boundary. I mean it would've been so ridiculous on their part, can you imagine? Me: Hey family, when you gaslight me, it makes me suicidal. I don't want to die, so either you stop doing that, or we can't have a relationship. Family: UHH NO *gaslights me anyway* Me: ok *kills self* Family: *surprised Pikachu face* Like???? Would they really have been shocked because it seems like they should have known since I told them directly? And that just shows that they really don't take my pain seriously at all. They think I'm overly sensitive and that my trauma is not real. That would have been a painful wake up call for them. I told my therapist all of this. And she agrees that this is good, this is going to not only ween them off of me but also allow me to focus on all the good stuff I have going on. I have to get moving. So much stuff has been lagging because I'm constantly recovering from them triggering me. I'm going to focus, and heal, and gtfo of here. Thank you for your support and for never invalidating my pain.

#teku #personal #d o nut #reba gel #!#donut rebagel plz

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pinkobsessedfreak · 3 years

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so i have officially been diagnosed with adhd! (tw: drugs/medication) i am now on adderall!

my new therapist/psychiatrist thingy is so cool! he also has adhd, so he gets it.

i described everything to him and he said that, after a few weeks of medicating, if my social issues did not dissipate, we would go further into thoughts about an autism diagnosis.

i don't think i've ever been this seen before and it feels so nice.

the other place i went to, the one that has had me waiting for four months to even talk about diagnostic tests we had to run, has not even reached out to me since february. i had to call to be added to the cancellation list (where i would be notified of an earlier appt if they had a cancellation) that they told me i was already on. absolutely fantastic /s

meanwhile i go to this place for one appointment, he truly listens to me and has a strong dialogue with me, and i am diagnosed and given a medication.

my general physician recommended a second opinion and i am so thankful that he did. without him, i would still be wallowing in impatience and fear.

i don't know who to thank or what to do, really. i'm just here, grateful i have some semblance of an idea what is in my mind.

#actuallyadhd #adhd #neurodivergent #autism #most likely actuallyautistic #diagnosis #adderall #medication #drugs #tw: drugs #tw: medication

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neednothavehappenedtobetrue · 3 years

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here are some scripts, ranked in order of how difficult the scripty thing will be to do.

easy mode: "hey Boss, I am, as you know, having a bit of a medical situation, it is not an emergency, but I will be taking X day off to do some routine maintenance"

do not overexplain! do not tell him anything additional! it would be fine if you did, but also, don't!

medium mode (I am terrified of haircuts and therefore hair stylists, sorry about the person I am) "hi! you will notice that my hair is quite dirty. this is because I have been having trouble washing it often because of a medical concern I have that I am getting fixed. I am sorry about this! no, I do not know exactly how long it has been since I washed it, but because of the medical stuff my memory is quite bad, you are probably best equipped to make a guess, as a hair expert person. the medical thing is not COVID-related or otherwise contagious, and I am getting it addressed ASAP. please do not make jokes about this, I am very self-conscious about it.

what's the medical problem? "they're adjusting a medication I take that can sometimes cause fatigue, and forgetfulness and generally make it hard to do stuff" be pleasantly vague! if they ask you really persistently, just say "depression" but probably they will not.

if at all possible, do not tell them that your last hairstylist made a joke about you inadequately washing your hair and you hated it. they do not require this information. practice not oversharing QUITE so much.

hard mode: doctor! (this part gets Really Explicit with the details of my ED, so it is under a cut, only read it if knowing how many meals/calories I eat a week will not trigger you, please do not trigger yourself, I'm sorry but I think if I do not put this here I will not say it, so it needs to go here)

-"hi doctor P, so I made this appointment to talk about a concern I have been having for some time, but now I have two concerns. my initial concern is that I have been experiencing some nausea, particularly bad in the mornings. I am definitely for sure not pregnant. I have been taking phenergan as needed, but not every day. I have only thrown up twice in six weeks, so it is not terrible, but it is also not great. I don't want to take too much phenergan because the hospital doctors told me it could cause heart problems and also I could get too used to it and have it stop working, how worried should I be about those things? sometimes in the morning, I do not feel nausea in my stomach, but I do start gagging or dry-heaving randomly. I have never thrown up from this but it is weird and also means I need to take Zoom calls with my camera off. do you have any ideas or suggestions?

also, a problem that might actually be a bigger problem is that I have recently-ish come to terms with the fact that I have an eating disorder. I have had it off and on probably since I was in my teens. it is not necessarily textbook, in that I am rarely or never preoccupied with my weight and rarely, although not never, restricting deliberately. it initially started when I got the idea that if I lost a lot of weight very quickly, my parents, who were refusing to let me do therapy or psych meds again, would consider it. I never got to a dangerous weight level and I do not remember how long or how much I restricted, but a problem that came from that is that ever since when I am particularly struggling with a mental health issue, like bipolar or depression, I tend to stop eating. part of this problem is that I am very forgetful and literally forget to eat, especially in the absence of real hunger cues. part of the problem is that it is hard to do multi-step tasks when I am depressed, and eating food requires me to stop whatever I am doing, get up, go to the kitchen, figure out what I want to eat, prepare it in some way, and then actually physically eat it. lately, I have been drinking a lot of delivery smoothies because they are easy and digestible, and sandwiches as well. the problem has been particularly bad this past month or so, in a way that I suspect is not entirely explained by those two factors. I am working with my therapist and psychiatrist to fix it. I know that ED can trigger or worsen gastroparesis and I know I should have told you earlier, but I haven't been able to be honest with myself about the severity of the problem.

-this past month, I have been averaging between six and ten meals a week, with some snacks as well. on a good day, I probably hit 1200 calories, on a bad day I don't know, but less than that for sure. on my worst day last week, I ate the meat and cheese inside of half a sandwich and drank some juice, but nothing else. on my best day I drank one and a half smoothies and ate part of a sandwich, which I recognize is still pretty bad.

I am working with my psychiatrist and psychologist on this issue. I have started to take Adderall again, but this is only the second day of me taking it, so meds-related appetite lost is not the issue here.

I cannot get ED professional mental health treatment because, since I am in grad school, my parents pay for all of my medical care and they fundamentally do not believe I have an eating disorder. this is because my mom, who probably has her own ED, thinks 1200 calories is enough for a human per day and also because I am overweight. I saw a nutritionist for three months pre-pandemic and we worked on getting me to eat three meals and two snacks a day, but my parents stopped paying for her because I was not losing weight. I have told them exactly and in detail how little I am eating and they still do not believe I should be eating more, so they refuse to pay for ED-related medical care for me. this is part of a pattern for them, I am working on it in therapy and part of working on it will be figuring out how to pay for my own medical care, but right now I am doing my very best.

I do not know how much I currently weigh or how much weight I might have lost. I do not keep a scale in my apartment, because I am certain I would get obsessive with it. my friends say I look like I have been losing some weight, but it is hard to tell how much.

I know ED is bad for gastroparesis and I am sorry, but I am doing my very best and still struggling.

what I need from you is suggestions on safe ways to get more calories and any other suggestions you have for successfully eating. I am happy to put you in touch with my psychiatrist if you feel that would be useful. my therapist is, just for this week, on vacation. I will see her next week and could connect you then as well.

I cannot see any ED-specific specialists, because my parents categorically will not pay for them. I cannot see a nutritionist or a dietician, same reason. I could potentially see a new gastroenterologist who deals with this stuff in more depth, but my parents will probably Google her, which might pose a problem, and also they have a specific gastroenterologist they want me to see, so they might just... refuse anyway to let me choose my own gastroenterologist. they are like that. however, if you know a GI doctor who knows a lot about both gastroparesis and ED and whose website is not too significantly ED-focused, that might be helpful, or it might not work.

I know this is bad, and I know I need to fix my life so they are not paying for my medical care, I am working on it, I promise. do you have any suggestions?

great! that is a script! also, if she is garbage about this, you can GET A NEW DOCTOR literally at any time, if it sucks, hit the bricks.

#ed for ts #disordered eating for ts #alex's parents #medical neglect for ts #I do not usually tag posts about my personal parents with words like neglect #that is what the tag alex's parents is for #blacklist that if you need #but this one is uh pretty bad #pretty neglectful #so! here we go

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the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers · 4 years

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My heart just hurts and I just need a hug...

So tonight I was home alone again due to my mom working overnight. All was good, she had taken me out to dinner earlier, I said goodnight, locked it all up and was settling into bed with my kitty. I was even beginning to write a story for a friend. Then my dad came over from my aunt’s and was sitting on the inside steps (There’s an outside door that leads to a stairway and at the top is the actual door to my place that I had deadbolted too for safety) My aunt had actually called me to let him in and I had this gut feeling that I should just not pick up and feign being a sleep. But I didn’t want my dad to get pissed for ignoring him like he had before when I was ACTUALLY asleep and didn’t know he forgot his own keys. Plus we had made plans the night prior but I was surprised he actually remembered... (I could smell the liquor off him the night before.) So I let him in, we go on a walk and again all’s good for the most part and this is at 7:45.

He bitches a bit about mom, our landlords, and a few other things but I’m honestly used to that and as I’ll mention later I have been for awhile... So I try to divert the topics the best I can since your 18 year old kid who is also dealing with these situations isn’t the best person to vent to! So I get him going on a somewhat pleasant topic about his stay at my aunts but I say one thing and that sets him off. We were basically back home and he LASHES OUT about everything from his work, to the landlords, to mom, how he was happier as a marine, to how he’s been miserable ever since he came back to the state I live in now (Yeah my dad had abandoned me ‘til I was almost 4) and just so many morbid topics... This wasn’t near the first time he had done this (Oh no, he’s been making me his therapist since I was 7) but when he gets so loud and agressive, I can’t help but get scared! So I try to tell him I’m not gonna deal with this and try to walk back home and inside, but he CORNERS me on the porch and just goes on screaming at me about all this shit until about 10:45 where through crying, pleading, and convincing to calm down I at least let him let me go inside since it was cold... I still wasn’t allowed back to my room though (Yeah he’s also pulled the cornering tactic since I was 7 and whenever mom was at work) and still dealt with his ranting and raving until he was done and then just trying to reminisce about his college days and shit...

I love how he dumps all this shit on to me and legitimately expects me to give him advice when 1) I’ve been AN ACTUAL CHILD this whole time, I only hit the age of legality this year. 2) Any time I do try but it’s something he disagrees with (EX: Getting medical/psychological help, counseling with mom or actually leaving like he always threatens in their fights, and getting the fuck out of my life like he’s threatened me with) shuts me up and treats me like a child saying I don’t know what I’m talking about {THEN WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME IN THE FIRST PLACE} and 3) can swipe these fiascos under the rug like they never happened. Like one time I’m still pissed about is when I went to him at age 14 and told him I’ve been feeling really depressed and having harmful thoughts because I’ve ACTUALLY HAD TO TALK HIM OUT OF SOME DOING REALLY BAD SHIT TO HIMSELF SEVERAL TIMES AS A CHILD (So has my mom so it seems when I finally confessed all the verbal shit dad has done) He literally just told me, “Yeah, but you’re strong. You’ll get through it.” And completely shut me down in terms of seeking any help. I thought I was overreacting, being an angsty teen (As he called me tonight), and thought I was wrong for even feeling anywhere near upset about anything... So I just didn’t, I played off my depression, actively denied it when others would notice and suggest I even see a councilor at school, and even when I did start opening up about my feelings to my friends I’d never go to them when I needed them because I was already deemed a burden by others for simply living and if my own father couldn’t even offer me a hug, why should I bother others when they have their own lives, feelings, and issues... So night after night I’d just rationalize with myself that if I did anything I’d get in trouble and that I didn’t want ANYONE to feel the way I did so I didn’t want them to hurt.

Luckily when I was 16 I started seeing a psychologist who validated a lot of my feelings and got me to open up to the idea that my family’s problems weren’t my own or my fault. And after a lot of fighting with my mom this April I finally got an appointment with a psychiatrist to at least see if there was anything that could be helped and it turned out in my medical notes (Cause I have a bunch of doctors in one network) my pediatrician recommended I see a psychiatrist since I showed symptoms of severe depression and anxiety WHEN I WAS 13!!!! So I will say that with that help I am doing a lot better... BUT MY DAD GOT PISSY AND BLEW UP AT ME ABOUT IT EVEN THOUGH I’M NOW A LEGAL ADULT WHO COULD MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS! MY BODY, MY CHOICE, ESPECIALLY WHEN COVERED BY MY OWN DAMN INSURANCE!!! (Plus I had my mom’s consent and she’s the one who’s been handling all my medical shit soooo....)

But The worst part during this and many other times is that he’ll put words in my mouth like saying that I hate him, I think he’s a bastard, that I think he’s better off gone or even dead. But despite all the shit and legitimate trauma he’s put me through (Much more than I think I’ll ever say) I DON’T hate him! I still even love him as my dad in some fucked up way, but I’m just sad that this is the most I’ll ever get out of my relationship with my dad... Maybe I’m a coward for holding any kind of fondness and wanting more... Maybe I’m just naïve and foolish for not straight up detesting him when he’s earnestly admitted several times that he’s been a shit father, chose alcohol over me, and hasn’t been there for me..

I dunno... what I do know is it just hurts and I frankly just wanna be held and focus on something else entirely...

If you have read this far, thank you for taking time out of your day to do so. I hope you have a much better day and get all the love you absolutely deserve!!

#the storyteller vents

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alluringoneirataxia · 4 years

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Long Winding Road Stay Strapped My Dude

By: Astoria Cathryn Andromeda

Alrighty, this is a long one boys. So I touched briefly on this in my Welcome to Literally Everything post. No worries I'll recap you, so you don't have to switch back and forth. I just diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and then ADHD when I was 18 years old, and even then I had to fight for it after countless hours of research. See, there seems to be a wee bit of misogyny in the neurodiverse diagnoses. When I say a wee bit, I mean that scientists used to think that only boy could be autistic or ADHD. They only studied autism in males. Fortunately, nowadays we know that girls can be autistic and/or ADHD, but we present the traits differently than boys, and a lot of our traits are played off due to gender roles in society. For example, being overly talkative in girls is called chatty, whereas boys who can't sit still are sent off for testing immediately. This also causes problems for the boys, because little Johnny gets put on Adderall at the ripe age of 6 years old, just because he can't sit still for 8 hours straight, which by the way should not be expected of any elementary school kid, By the time, he's 25 he's 1) completely dependent on amphetamines 2) his body will stop producing dopamine due to being on the medication for so long. Nicht Gut. Generally, boys who are on the spectrum get picked out earlier due to late speaking, or lack of social skills. This is the one thing that girls happen to do better than boys. Girls are good at masking, which is basically taking social traits, phrases, personalities, demeanor, and copying them. In public, they put on a mask and at home, they have a meltdown. Girls are still not picked up as being on the spectrum, because shyness is called being 'ladylike' and 'dainty', and having a meltdown is just because :( girls are oh-so emotional, boohoo. Anyways tons of women do not get diagnosed with autism until they are well into their adulthood, I actually can be considered lucky to have technically still been a teenager when we finally got all the pieces together.

Alright, let's start with I don't know me as a baby. I did not speak until I was 2 years old, and then it was immediately full sentences from then on. I didn't do the babbling thing, which I don't know how impactful that really is to the topic. I was a very shy little girl. I was teeny tiny, we didn't know I if I was going to make it to 5 feet tall until I had a big growth spurt in 7th grade. I am 5'2 now and definitely done growing in case you were wondering, so not that short anymore. I did not like talking to adults, especially strangers, especially men. I did not look anyone in the face, and I will always hide behind my parent's legs when they would try to introduce me to people. I am an only child, and I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I always had seasonal affective disorder, where my grades would dip in the winter. My parents knew I had a timer, they had 45 minutes from the moment they stepped into a restaurant before I would start breaking down. If I got off schedule as a toddler in any form, it was a catastrophe. Or this is what my parents and family tell me. I didn't really notice. I did not like being out in public a lot, I was a very picky eater, and I was extremely hyper. I was a very eccentric child, I only had 1-2 close friends and they were always a very well-liked outgoing girl who I just followed around. Looking back, I don't know how we missed it. I was shy because I didn't understand how social interactions worked, I was anxious about it because I didn't understand, I had sensory overloads, routines, and a very bland diet with a safe food which was ketchup. I put that shit on literally everything, eas, apples, mac and cheese, pizza, all meat, anything something forced me to eat that I did not like. But because I could sit still in class, and because I could zone out and daydream all day through school and still make A's nobody ever flagged me for anything and how I was supposed to know that not everybody just copied other people, scripted things before they talked, and could never pay attention. My mom always required me to be in a sport, and I was a gymnast and a swimmer for a long time, two very high-intensity sports, to help lower my energy levels, and because my mom has mild depression and she knows that exercise does help. Skip to middle school, my mom tells me I'm being bullied at church. It's not that I wasn't observing my surroundings I knew I was being excluded, but I didn't understand vindictive behavior, I thought it was my fault. I had zero friends in 8th grade until I sat down next to a random acqutaince I had gone to school with since I was 4 and the same gymnastics place. Then we were immediately attached at the hip after that. She is my best friend due this day and definitely got me through high school. Led me through so many social situations without either of us knowing. I had a very close friendgroup in highschool, all of them were on the drumline which I met through my best friend, and my first boyfriend was my best friend's neighbor. I ended up playing bass guitar for my high school's indoor drumline, and it was the best experience ever. I love my friends, but I had really bad depression when I was 15-now:) jk It's better. I didn't really realize I was depressed, I just didn't want to go to school, or swim practice, or do anything so of course, my mom noticed, and then once it was pointed out to me it got worse. My severe anxiety spiraled with my depression. Senior year of high school, my boyfriend and I were like toxic star crossed lovers, hurting each other over and over again without meaning to. My friends and I were self harming, all my close friends gad some demon going on. I finally decided to try therapy again after the disaster of being forced to go when I was 15 and the lady told me I wasn't depressed because I had a boyfriend and good grades. It helped a bit, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Then I went away to college and stayed dating my senior high school boyfriend, we were just up and down as always, but with slightly better communication. My freshman year of college I joined a fraternity, a research lab, and my first hs boyfriend/ex/best friend and I went to a Christian campus place. By second semester, I had a lot of people who knew me and talked to me, but I didn't have any close friends, and even less close friends who were girls. All my close friends who were girls were at another college. My parents were worried about me, so they made me rush a sorority, which I knew was never my scene, but my parents made me join and I found a few girls I liked. Soon I was going to 6 classes, fraternity chapter, research lab meetings, christain crash group meetings, soriorty pledge meetings all on every Tuesday. I was different person at each of these events and wore a different mask. I was having what I know now were autistic burnout meltdowns every single day on the phone in my crusty dorm's stairwell. It was not cute. His mental health had always been bad too. Finally I decide I need to try a psychatrist and go back to therapy, and then he broke up with me. Then I made my first close friend, a guy who was in 3 of classes, and I took him to my fraternity's formal, and then coronavirus happened. Rona kinda saved my grades, and mental health by sending us home event though it did suck. I got on anti-anxiety meds and things went up, but I was still having what I thought were panic attacks, they were austistic meltdowns. My psychiatrist, he's kinda an asshole, he diagnosed me with Obessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. I'll insert definition here: (OCPD) is a personality disorder that's characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. People with OCPD will also feel a severe need to impose their own standards on their outside environment.> Basically hr told me I had rules for everything like how everyone drives on the right side of the road, but nobodythinks about it andwhen I broke one of my rules I got depressed, and when wasn't perfect I got depressed, and when I made an A I was relieved not proud. The diagnosis seemed to fit really well, and my therapist and I started working finding my rules, and getting rid of the bad ones, and making the others less harsh. I had thought every once and in a while in my life when I was really upset, what if I'm on the spectrum, because I just felt so hopeless for social interactions and I didn't understand. I always felt like I was a very specific person, but after the ocpd I started thinking more and more, and I saw a tik tok of a girl with lae diagnosed autism basically describing me and ranting about the misogyny. I did more research and I decide, yea I'mm gonna bring it up to mypsychatrist well he's a dick, so he was like um you don't act like sheldon cooper from the Big Bang theory,and I was like wellI just I have always thought I might have adhd like be neureodiverse, and he was like your grade point average in hs was a 97.8%, you're not adhd. I immediately cried, because I can't handle when anyone says anything in a even a slightest stringent tone. I'm baby, I know lmao. It made me angry though because I felt like he just brushed away all of my struggles I had in my whole life. I spent hours researching and typed up a 47 page document on evidence for why I was on the spectrum, and had my parents help will some of checklists to make sure I was getting outside perspectives. I rally my parents to be my back up and next psychiatrist appointment we actually talk about it and he asked my parents questions about when I was young and such and finally he was okay you're on the spectrum. I felt so validated and like I could start being myself. I slowly got more and more confident, changed my style of clothing, and researched more about adhd pushed to be tested, and oh look at that I also have ADHD. So basically discourse: "I feel like as a child I coded a machine to do life for me so I didn’t get bothered except I didn’t know about the machine I thought i was the machine and now I’ve become self aware and I have to learn how to read the code and rewrite the code because it’s dysfunctional because I’m not functioning well as a human being. I was really shy as a child. I would turn beat red when people talked to me or looked at me so I think I started cookie cutting situations and using them over and over again because they worked until I accidentally hard wired these expansion rules and expectations for myself. I didn’t may attention is class ever I just day dreamed and if I got good grades i wouldn’t be bothered i could just stay in my head and if I did my sport well my parents didn’t bother me. I was never asked if I did my homework I just did it so I wouldn’t be asked and have to deal with that situation. I would cookie cutter situations in class that would draw the least attention to myself.

I feel like i don’t have friends I just fulfill the expectation like a side quest on video games" I wrote this down pre autism confirmation when i just thought I had ocpd. Now I don't directly identify with ocpd, but I definitely think I developed that personality disorder a bit from living with undiagnosed autism. I am linking below the very informative Tik Toks by the lovely Paige on autism in girls. The imposter syndrome one really hit home. I had had so many panic attacks about thinking I tricked people into being my friend, or thinking I was smart.

I highly suggest watching these short tik toks, you'll definitely learn something

https://vm.tiktok.com/wVvcYA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqRRUf/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnqhvX/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqeyYg/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnoE7u/

https://vm.tiktok.com/Kas6gB/

https://vm.tiktok.com/owM9hs/

Imposter syndrome

I am also linking an article about Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory and Autism that explains why my psychiatrist was wrong, and also I am a girl and the spectrum is called a spectrum because it's a fucking spectrum no two autistic people are exactly the same it's like a color wheel.

http://www.autismsupportnetwork.com/news/problem-sheldon-cooper-and-cute-autism-387783

Here is a fun comic about the spectrum and how to view it.

https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/

I am still learning about myself, and how to be me, and how to be myself but without breaking bad social rules. It's quite humorous though because I'll learn something is related to autism and I'm like oh shit again, like still, like, we're still discovering things.

"Tu ne me manques pas"

Bis später,

Astoria.

#asd #autisminwomen #autism #actuallyautistic #aspie #aspie memes

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