#sick of feeling depressed and bad all the time

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I keep thinking about jealous pining desperate Stiles and Derek

But like specifically Stiles Seeing Derek kiss someone else.

Stiles goes to visit Derek at his loft and he walks into a scene from a hallmark movie. Derek is kissing some random women under fairy lights to the back drop of a sunset. Stiles feels like someone plunged their hand through his heart and infected with body with ice. He genuinely feels sick to his stomach.

Derek looks down at said person with a soft smile, thinking that this time he can be safe. Before turning and seeing Stiles. They lock eyes and stiles is so visibly distraught. Like in the “where’s my dad scene”. One tear sliding down his face, hands clenched, grasping at his chest as if to rip his heart out.

And Derek knows he fucked up, but he doesn’t know how. All he sees is Stiles in distress and he needs to fix it. Stiles base scent has changed in a split second, now deeply intertwined with misery. He immediately moves from his love interest towards Stiles. But Stiles won’t let Derek comfort him. When Derek grasps his wrists, He tries to pull away.

Stiles is inconsolable at this point, choking on his sobs, barely able to breathe, barely able to see. This only makes Derek more desperate, he’s trying to pull stiles into a hug but Stiles keeps fighting him. Derek’s mind is racing with an explain on why stiles is falling apart in front of him. He thinks of Scott and the sheriff, praying that they are both still alive. He’s now genuinely begging stiles to let him help, to tell him what’s wrong, but stiles keeps pushing Derek away.

Derek’s love interest moves to help but stiles screams when she touches him. In his shock Derek stumbles away from Stiles, but not before ripping her arm off of Stiles.

The room freezes as the both of them are just staring at each other, stiles still sobbing, Derek shaking with adrenaline or fear he doesn’t know. Before Stiles turns and runs out of his loft.

And then nothing is like it used to be. Not like the summer they spent together, not even like the days of when they first met. Stiles is so different with him. Derek can’t remember the last time he saw stiles smile, or his eyes. All he can see is the eyebags that match his own and bitten bloody lips. He barely speaks to Derek and when he does is tone is soft and flat. They no longer banter back and forth with each other exchanging friendly insults. He is a ghost of the stiles that Derek knew.

Stiles doesn’t reach out and touch him anymore, not in camaraderie or comfort. Derek’s skin is devoid of stiles scent. His scent hasn’t changed from that night, now overcome with depression, pain, and tears. But even so Derek would still prefer to carry it with him. Derek feels like he is watching stiles die.

And Derek is ripping his hair out of his skull. He going insane. He has tried to talk to stiles but at meetings Stiles wouldn’t even look at him, and the Stilinski house has been lined with wolfsbane.

He goes to Scott and Lydia for advice, or understanding, fuck at this point he’d even take a stupid riddle. But scott just twists his lips in disappointment while Lydia glares at him with more hatred than she does Peter. Which is really saying something.

Derek is getting more frantic as days pass and nothing changes. It’s starting to affect the pack. The betas are more snappy and uncomfortable. Derek, himself is having a had time keeping his shift under control. Anger isn’t helping, if only it’s making it worse, more feral.

This costs Derek.

One night when the pack is fighting the next big bad. Derek’s sleepless nights and being distracted nearly gets him killed. He only wishes he could go back to that day, he would spend it, from sunrise to sunset with Stiles. Just making him laugh and smile.

The last thing he sees before he collapses is Stiles eyes in the moonlight, glistening with tears, same as that night. Beautiful all the same. But still Derek smiles. He is at peace knowing that this will be the last thing he sees.

But he wakes up, and all he has of stiles is traces of his scent on his skin. Derek roars in anguish. He can feel his betas trying to hold him down, he can hear them screaming but it all fades to white noise. He understands nothing at this current moment but loss. His wolf won’t stop howling.

He doesn’t fight the pull of the wolf, as he falls under his instincts. At the back of his head he knows that the people he is fighting are his pack mate, his own betas. The smell of blood affronts his senses. But nothing can be felt but violent grief.

The wolves in his den are wary and hesitant to fight him, as they should be. He can hear more wolves coming, and the deafening heartbeat of prey. He snarls at the prey that moves closer to him, fulling intending the go for the kill. As he pounces on the prey pressing him to the ground, teeth reaching to sink into his neck, he feels Stiles hands on his chest and he stops. The scent of Stiles is all around him, and Derek presses his face to his neck. Keeping Stiles pinned to the ground.

Thus way stiles cannot escape, cannot leave Derek grappling with the thought of losing him. Another wolf tries to get closer, reaching for stiles but Derek snarls at him. Stiles talks to the wolf, —

“Don’t worry about it Scotty, I got it from here”

“You sure dude?”

“Yeah, take the wonder trio and get out of here. We’re good.”

— as Derek pulls him into his lap, face still pressed into the junction between neck and shoulder. Not even willing to miss even the vibrations of Stiles voice. The wolves leave and Derek can finally relax and enjoy the presence of Stiles.

Derek feels overwhelmed, after weeks of not interacting with Stiles he is now surrounded by him. His hands run through Derek’s hair, his voice floats in the air, his scent finally intermingling with his own. This idea of losing the heat of stiles body pressed against his, makes Derek pull stiles even closer.

He doesn’t know how long they sit together but when he comes out of the fog. Derek breaks. A complete reversal of the night he lost stiles. Derek is crying in ernest, pleading and apologizing over and over again. Stiles is hesitant when he places his hands on Derek cheek. But when Derek leans into it Stiles begins to wipe the tears from his face.

They both face each other with open expressions. Stiles struggles to finds words to explain to Derek but all he can get out is a broken repeat of Derek’s own apology.

Derek felt as if his heart couldn’t know anymore pain, but as Stiles choked out an apology he could feel another piece break. Derek was just relived that stiles was finally letting him comfort him. Derek pressed their foreheads together and took a deep breath. Waiting for stiles to following along with his breathing. When they both calmed down stiles Slumped exhausted into his chest. With a heavy limbs Derek picked him up and carried him to the bed. Derek’s bed.

Neither of them need to speak durning this time. Derek was reluctant to set Stiles down, to let go for even a second. Instead he settled for watching Stiles as they both undressed and fell into the bed. Finally after weeks of sleepless nights, unrest and nightmares, they both full asleep wrapped in each others arms.

Derek refuse to open his eyes when he awakes. Afraid that when he does, Stiles will be gone and this would be a cruel dream. So he keeps them closed even when he hear Stiles breathe hitch. Even as he hears his heartbeat pick up. Even as stiles trails his fingers over Derek’s face. But he does open them as stiles presses a kiss to his lips.

Derek kisses him back just as fiercely. And this leads to teary confessions — “Don’t fucking lie to me Derek please, I can’t take it, don’t fucking kiss me out of pity.”

“Never out of pity, Mi Vida, I never wish to part from you even again, I love you, Mieczyslaw, truly. I can finally breathe again.” — They spend the day in bed, only leaving to eat. Even then they are always touching the other in some way.

After this Scott and Lydia pull Derek aside and threaten him with extreme violence. Peter joyfully welcomes stiles to the family.

(Honestly this was a whole train wreck. I also had another idea/version where this was happening during the nogistune. Where Stiles goes over to Derek’s loft as the darkness around his heart fills heavier that day and he sees Derek kiss someone else. The this is what finally pushes stiles over and allows the nogistune to fully take over. And Derek is forced to listen to the fox gleefully tell him that this action nearly broke Stiles. That while turning feral Derek has to learn that his actions cost him another person he loves. That because of this stiles and Derek are turning into twisted version of themselves. But honestly a fox should have never underestimated how far a wolf would go for their mate)

My bad for the long post but if you made it to the end, welcome to the trenches and suffering in the misery with me.

[tealottie]

What are your headcanons about Della?

I have so many, but tbh my favorite headcanons have to do with her having PTSD - so i can't promise this will be a fun post

MASTERLIST OF DELLA HEADCANONS BELOW:

Appearance:

Scars from the Moon

One across her beak on left side

Scars on her arms and legs

Other markings

Stretch marks especially on her tummy and butt

A few stretch marks on her chest and thighs

Freckles on her beak (because she had triplets and ducks IRL sometimes get freckles after pregnancy)

Other

Chubby pear shape

DD cup size

Squishy belly

Big eyes

Fluffy unkempt feathers (she's bad at preening)

Thin hair (also bad at taking care of it)

Short beak

Queer Headcanons:

Homoromantic

Bisexual

Prefers to just call herself a lesbian

Ciswoman (doesn't mind they/them pronouns and probably finds it entertaining if she's referred to as he/him)

Supports all of her queer babies

She also does not actively seek out romance, but she isn't offput by the idea entirely

Mental Health and Neurodiverse Headcanons:

PTSD

Hates being alone at any given moment and had to ask Donald if she could room with him in the houseboat for a few months

Genuinely cannot look at her reflection and will be needing exposure therapy

Does not like the feeling of movement underwater because it reminds her of the moon's gravity

Terrified that she'll never be fully capable of being a mom because of the 10 years she missed

Cringes at any moon or space themed items now - sometimes triggers her on a bad day or if she looks at them for too long

Her hair being too long is a trigger for her, so she always keeps it shoulder length or above

She ALWAYS feels cold even if her body temperature is normal and sometimes it drives her crazy

Lots of nightmares about what-ifs - what if it was my kids instead of me, what if it was my brother instead of me, what if i didnt have oxychew, what if i never met the Moonlanders, etc etc etc

The taste of black licorice will genuinely send her spiraling, and because it lingers - it wrecks her for days (she hates similar flavors such as rootbeer)

Finds a lot of joy in warm places so she now loves to be out in the sun

Had a period of time where she wasn't really talking with Penumbra because of the severity of her triggers/ptsd

Both finds peace in dead silence, but it also brings her back to the moon as well - she has a very complex relationship with isolation

Prefers silver over gold (even though she doesn't wear jewelry, she likes silver on others and silver on things such as zippers and buttons)

Spent quite a few years terrified of flying after the horror of her own trauma set in, but it threw her into a big depression since piloting is her passion

Hates taking care of her stump because she doesn't like taking her prosthetic leg off - she sees it as her own, so she hates taking it off even though she knows she needs to when sleeping or showering

She has a hard time looking at her stump and scars because on one hand; sick as hell battle wounds, but on the other; damn was that the worst time in my entire life

Depression and Anxiety

Even before crashlanding on the moon, she dealt with depression and social anxiety

She has a bit of a hard time keeping her room tidy and taking care of herself, but she's phenomenal at putting other people first

Feels as though she's not attractive enough

Wants to be a ray of sunshine in other peoples' lives

She's very scared that she won't be enough for people and therefore she must put 110% into everything she does for others

ADHD and Autism

Her sensory issues tend to directly conflict with her PTSD issues - like she hates silence because of the moon, but sometimes she gets overstimulated by noise and needs the silence or alone time

She does not sleep until her body physically passes out because the change in activity is hard for her to deal with

Goes insane if she feels understimulated because her brain begins to shut down and she dissociates

Many, many stims (sometimes doubles as grounding with PTSD): bouncing her leg, various hand motions, feeling the fabric of her clothes, physical affection with her loved ones, playing with the tightness of her prosthetic (loosening and then tightening it over and over), shaking her head to feel her hair around her shoulders (and solidifying that what she's feeling is earth gravity)

Really hard time understanding social cues that makes her come across as rather ditzy

Special interest in aircraft technology and was a top student at her flight school

Love/Hate relationship with reading because if she enjoys what she's reading she gets invested, but if she's understimulated, the words jumble together in her mind

Not good at math for a similar reason

Fish are a huge sensory nightmare for her; the scales, the smell, the taste, etc

Is generally pretty sensory-seeking, but has a few Hard Nos on textures (such as slimy scales)

Other:

I headcanon Della having compulsive sexual behavior disorder, and her libido especially spiked after being on the moon for 10 years, and it makes her feel really gross at times

Due to said hypersexuality, she gets intrusive thoughts that piss her off

Because of the moon not really having a clear indicator of night and day, Della lost her circadian rhythm and struggles with a Hell combination of non-24 and ADHD insomnia

The lack of general sleep makes it hard for her to lose weight and so she's insecure about that

Physical Disabilities:

Because she was on the moon for so long, the zero gravity and lack of proper breathable oxygen took a huge toll on her, physically

She developed really bad asthma and will likely be recovering from it for the rest of her life

Her lungs can only intake so much oxygen at a time, so she also struggles with shortness of breath

Upon returning to earth, her body was really broken down from the cold atmosphere - causing her to not be able to regulate her body temperature properly

Her bones were weakened upon arrival, so she has to spend years recovering physically from it

Her stump is irritated a lot because she doesn't like taking care of it properly

She owns crutches for when she needs to take breaks from her prosthetic just because of the discomfort when wearing it

She is not afraid to hit Donald with a crutch BTW

IF THERE ARE ANY OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS THAT YOU ARE CURIOUS ABOUT, SHOOT ME AN ASK! <3

[daysofyellowroses]

pumpkin

richie jerimovich x afab!reader | 1.3k | part one of two | warnings: none

hello, i am (kind of) back! due to work/being prone to depressed slumps i have not written anything for a long while but (tmi alert) my last period was the worst i have ever experienced, and towards the end of it the only thing that made me feel better was the thought of literally just sitting on richie's lap like it got me through, then that thought spiralled into this, which will have a second part that will basically just be plotless fun! hopefully you enjoy this, and if you're still reading then i will use the opportunity to shout out @thecapricunt1616 she is the actual best so go check out the most amazing blog you'll ever see 🫶🏻💗🌼

🐻

You know when you can tell a storm is coming, but that doesn't make you feel any more calm about the storm? That was the feeling you'd been having for a few days. Your period tracker app had told you that you were due soon, but the pain had started a little earlier than usual. It was never a good sign. Some months your period came and went without a fuss, other months it was like torture, and evidently it was going to be one of those months.

You threw yourself into work to try and distract yourself for what was coming. It was perfect timing, the bear had officially opened and service was beyond elevated. You'd been a waitress in the Beef for a couple of years, but that mainly consisted of handing over hot dogs, wiping down the occasional table and rolling your eyes (affectionately) at yet another terrible joke.

Now you were in at the deep end. The restaurant was was different, the clientele were certainly different, your uniform was different, your attitude had to be different. No more sneaking out back with Richie for a quick cigarette, stealing his hoodies when it was cold, no more hanging around in the kitchen chatting with the chefs.

You focused on doing your job perfectly, trying to ignore the PMS burning inside you. It wasn't easy, but you managed to style it out.

Until the day came.

You woke up in more agony, barely able to drag yourself out of bed for some aspirin. You still hadn't officially gotten your period but you knew it wouldn't be long. In most other jobs you would have a Saturday off or be able to call in sick, but that wasn't an option. Everyone was needed, there were no backups, no subs to be drafted in at the last minute.

Most of the day was spent in bed, layers of blankets wrapped around your aching body, willing the pain away.

It didn't go anywhere, rather it intensified as the day went on.

Taking a shower and getting ready was agony, all you wanted was to get right back into bed and forget the world existed, not go into a busy restaurant competing for a Michelin fucking star.

When you arrived, Richie was giving his usual speech/pep talk. He gave you a nod which you returned before standing beside Sweeps and trying to take in what Richie was saying.

Before service, you were standing by your locker taking a moment to breathe deeply and attempt to focus yourself when your solitude was ended.

"Hey," Richie gave you a nod. "You okay?"

"Yeah, all good," You lied, looking over to him with as much of a smile as you could muster. "Thanks."

"Just making sure," Richie raised a brow, watching you for a moment. "I'll see you out there, let's do this."

For a brief moment, you thought you would be okay. It would just be more bad PMS then tomorrow when your period actually made an appearance you could sleep it off.

But life could never be so simple.

It was already hot in the restaurant, every table full, the lights and the music making you feel overwhelmed, the heat and noise every time you walked into the kitchen not helping.

It all happened at once, you were taking the mains to table 10, your mouth beginning to water, not from hunger but from bile rising in you throat.

You delivered the food as calmy as possible, being the perfect waitress before you made your way to the bathroom as quickly as possible.

You barely made it into a stall before you were on your knees hugging the bowl.

It could have been hours or minutes later, you weren't sure, but eventually you heard a knock on the door.

Slowly getting up, you took a breath, grabbing some tissue to wipe your mouth before opening the door.

To your immense surprise, Richie was standing on the other side, a serious look on his face. You braced yourself for a scolding, ready to snap back if needed.

Instead, he touched your arm gently, his expression softening.

"You should have told me if you weren't feeling well."

"What does it matter?" You sighed, glancing behind you and tossing the tissue in the bowl. "You can't lose a waitress tonight."

"I'm down one right now aren't I?" Richie raised a brow. "We'll survive for a minute. I wish I could send you home but since I can't..tell me what I can do to make life easier for you right now."

You looked at him for a moment, the feeling of his hand on your arm making you feel calmer.

"Right now I need a tampon and some pain relief," You told him, taking a breath. "There's some in my-"

"I got it," Richie was already halfway to the door, waving his hand. "If you could get out there and keep Fak outta trouble that'd be great thanks."

You stood for a moment before quickly fixing yourself up and heading back out to the restaurant. There was no sign of Richie, but you threw yourself back into work. You didn't feel any better, and the need for protection was growing, but you tried to power through.

Around 15 minutes later, Richie re-emerged on the restaurant floor and caught your eye. You made your way over to him, half expecting him to subtly pull a tampon from his shirt cuff.

"Everything you need is in the office, you got five minutes," Richie told you, giving you a small grin before striding across the floor. You watched him for a moment before heading into the kitchen, ignoring the noise and heading to the office.

What looked like half of the entire feminine care aisle of a pharmacy was laid across the desk, along with a couple of bars of chocolate and a bag of candy you had a fondness for. You took what you needed and headed to the bathroom, feeling a little more calm and unable to stop yourself smiling.

After service, you were feeling better, though more than ready to go home and sleep through most of the following day.

When everything was done and everyone was getting ready to leave, you noticed Richie hanging back despite being ready to go. When you were heading out, chocolate and candy safely in your handbag, (the feminie care aisle had been left in tbe office for future emergencies) Richie joined you.

"Are you not driving?" You asked, raising a brow as you passed the car park.

"Not tonight," Richie shrugged, looking ahead before glancing over to you. "I'm making sure you get home safe."

You rolled your eyes with a grin, linking your arm through the older man's.

"It's just my period Rich, I'm not gonna die."

"I know," Richie scoffed. "Just let me be a gentleman once in my life."

So, you were joined on your commute home, the train ride and walk to your apartment feeling much quicker. Before you knew it you were hanging up your coat and dropping your handbag on the table.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Richie asked, glancing around your small living room.

"Do you need anything else?"

"You can drop the gentleman act now, it's getting old," You teased, touching his arm.

"But thank you for everything."

"Least I could do," Richie nodded, looking back at you and holding your gaze for a moment as you gently squeezed his arm.

"Well I uh..I should let you..get some rest."

"How very thoughtful of you," You smiled, letting go of his arm. "Are you sure *you're* going to get some safe? I would offer you the couch but your lanky ass would probably snap it in half."

You laughed as Richie gave you the middle finger, giving him the same back.

"I'll see you Monday, god help me," Richie sighed, stepping a little closer to you. "Now go get some rest."

"Yes, sir," You grinned, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

"Let yourself out before the neighbours start a rumor."

"You should be so lucky," Richie grinned giving you a wink before heading out of your apartment.

You went to the kitchen and got yourself a glass of water before heading to your bedroom, the smile never leaving your face.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Four meets the colors

I decided to be absolutely evil so here you go fanfic prompt :

What if four was never capable to combine into link but they didn’t even get the opportunity to take turns because everyone controls different body parts and they have to coordinate absolutely everything together and pulling the four sword back just to be four people again isn’t something they can just do

They learned to live with it but no matter how hard they try to make it look naturally

they still move in a way that feels wrong even when they are trying hard to cooperate

Their feet have slight delay

their hands have trouble gripping stuff in a way that looks naturally and one hand might grip the wrong side of a box ending with nearly dropping it

Their face can show different and several emotions at once and they can sometimes be heard mumbling to themself

And because of that they are perceived as unsettling or unstable by their own village

Their father couldn’t truly understand or accept them because link his child essentially died and they know it no matter how hard he tries to hide it

Their grandpa is getting older and even though he grieved his grandson he still wanted to accept them and when he is gone they would only have Zelda left

And she spends most her time in the castle ruling Hyrule

Shadow is not coming back ever again

And because of that spend as much time as they can on blacksmithing to not have to worry about things

But when linked universe happens they meet a version of them that has everything they could possibly want

Like their own bodies and lives

Shadow is still alive

The village doesn’t fear them

Vio,Blue , Red and Green all get to go by their own names

And four has to go by link

It’s genuinely paining them because it just doesn’t seem fair

Main while the colors hate how four is looking at him

Because they used to think that link would understand and support their decision to stay apart

But obviously link feels to good about himself as the perfect and superior hero of the four sword

And they all start hating him for it because it means that their decision wasn’t approved by the one person it mattered from the most

The chain feels the tension but doesn’t really know how to fix it so they separate both

And when they all get to four’s Hyrule they feel ashamed of how bad they are viewed by their own village

Because the colors are loved but they are not

So they tell them that when they put the sword back they never became one

The colors feel absolutely horrified when they realize the implications

Because four's existence sounds like their worst nightmare

And it makes them feel sick

That a version of them could be so screwed over by their own existence

And shadow isn’t even with them

And their dad doesn’t even want them to exist

Man and they thought they had it rough

Four gets to meet shadow and has a mental breakdown over it

Shadow is also very disturbed by the situation

Also they keep four there is no way hylia can stop them (it still is extremely weird when they interact with their counterparts because they like don’t always have the same expressions )

but also four is all fucked up like red is delusional (he was doing his own thing the entire adventure in the manga), blue has an obsession with keeping things under control(getting frozen and swallowed by a host is not fun) (which is why he is so obsessed with cleaning because it gives him a way to control the environment ) , Vio is depressed about shadow,green has a hero complex (he is link if you delete all personality traits except hero)

Yeah that won’t be fun

The colors have it easy in comparison

[dear-saint-anthony]

Gio and Maria

TW: depression and kind of neglect 

Maria and Gio’s relationship is complicated to say the least. They love each other deeply, being the only present figure in each others lives for a long time, and reflect one another. However, their similarities cause conflict, neither of them enjoying the parts of themselves they see in each other. For a long time Maria was not a stable parental figure in Gio’s life.

Maria has never been able to handle her own issues, even when she was a young girl. She experienced bouts of depression as a child/teenager which her mother chalked up to her being purposefully difficult. Maria would often act out, snapping at her peers, breaking her possessions, sneaking off to perform or, most notably, running away when she was only 17. Maria’s acts of defiance could be seen as a form of self medication, chasing a feeling to subdue what she was or wasn’t feeling. 

Maria’s mother fed into her disillusioned coping mechanisms, it was impossible for her to see that her daughter may be struggling. She blamed Maria for how she felt, pushing her further away.

Maria had a troubled adulthood what with having her fiancé, and only friend, cheat on her multiple times with her knowing, being completely cut off from her family and financial insecurity. After running away from Narciso after becoming pregnant with Gio, Maria faced one of the few instances of debilitating depression she experienced. She had been depressed before while with Narciso, being unable to attend shows or move on with tour due to being ‘under the weather’, but this she had to face completely alone. After giving birth to Gio she suffered post natal depression and found herself unable to truly care for him. 

Throughout Gio’s early childhood he can remember dark patches, when his mother wouldn’t come out of her room, where he was left hungry but too little to reach the kitchen counter. He missed days of school, he itched his skin, unclean but unable to figure out how the bath worked. The dark patches were few and far between, and when Gio was very young, he and Maria never discussed it. One day she would simply come out of her room, pick him up and kiss him, and it was like it never happened. Gio thinks back on it now and wonders if it was just some persistent bad dream he had, as whenever he tries to mention it to his mam she denies it. (Most of these occurrences happened after visits from Gio’s father, or interactions between Maria and her family, which were very inconsistent and were rare occurrences)

These instances were easy to forget as Gio got older, until they were almost unsalvageable from the back of his mind. At least they would have been if not for the death of his uncle. Francesco died in a ‘terrible accident’ although almost everyone knows it was a suicide, no one will admit it. Francesco died, who was the only one to helped Maria in her darkest moments, who welcomed her back with open arms when she came home, who was the only one there when she gave birth to Gio, who let Gio experience what having a dad would have been like. Maria fell into a deep depression, which lasted many months. Gio remembers almost none of it, like one entire chunk of his life was picked from his brain and erased. The moments he does remember were disturbing, crying at his mothers closed door, tugging on her arm to feel sharp bones under paling skin or lying in bed beside her and watching the basin of her collar bone fill and fall with her rancid breath. He remembers this awful dreadful feeling that his mother was going to follow his uncle, that he would lose her too. Strategically, Gio does not think on this part of his life at all. But her remembers the sick rolling feeling that would lull from his little body and into the carpet beneath him, making it sway under his feet when he would attempt to climb the stairs. They would stretch on into darkness, a gaping smelling yawning at the top of the stairs, as the end of the corridor, and inside it his mother. Long black hair, lying on her side in a dim room that smelled like stale air and sleep filled mouths. 

Maria drew herself out of this depression after learning about Narcio’s other sons, her little boy’s brothers, and flung herself into the long process of fostering and adopting Juan. 

(Side note: This may be the only point of contingency Gio has towards Juan’s adoption. He’s always harboured a grudge, not towards Juan but towards his Mother, that Maria was able to pull herself out of her depression for Juan and not for him. Maria was always able to fully parent Juan quite consistently, while Gio never truly got to experienced this.)

When Maria was well, which was most of the time, their relationship waxed and waned. Maria was never quite sure how to raise Gio, and walked a fine line between too strict or too lax. Maria and Gio were extremely close, having only each other, so even as a child Gio shared very similar tastes with his mam, the same music and shows and activities. And with Gio having very few friends, almost all of his time was spent with her. However, whenever conflict arose (Which was quite often as Gio was quite a…difficult… child) Maria found herself falling back on her own mother’s parenting. Shouting and punishing without clear reason, ‘because I said so’’s and frequent silent treatments. Maria wasn’t able to deal with her own emotions, let alone Gio’s, so when tension grew she would simply pretend he didn’t exist until he apologised. 

Maria deeply feared that Gio would turn out the way she did, so she used strict demands to keep him from following her path. Forcing him into classical music extracurriculars, church twice a week, confession, confirmation, alter serving, all devices to be handed into her at whatever hour she felt. As Gio began developing odd behaviours and conversations, Maria read his diaries (This probably let to a lot more secrecy from Gio, he never truly forgave her for that.) She would change her rules at random, leaving Gio to struggle to catch up, never confident in her own parenting. 

Besides the strange bouts of strict parenting (Mussolini treatment in Gio’s words), Maria could flip very easily into being a very lax ‘cool’ mam. Despite the conflicts that arose from their similarities, there was a lot of solidarity there. They shared an odd sense of humour and a general distain for their neighbours and people at Gio’s school. Maria would swear around Gio, and allow him to do the same, she’d let him wander to the beach whenever he fancied and together they amassed an impressive audio library of any and all music. She would let him read any books he got his hand on, and even encouraged him to pursue his own literary interests over whatever his school set him. (Maria had a long history with Gio’s schools, always defending him no matter the behaviour, they share an unpleasant attitude towards organisations and neither like to be told what to do.) She never pushed him to make friends, knowing he hated the idea.

Maria’s ability to flip from being completely chill and relaxed into extremely strict at the drop of a hat always left Gio confused, never knowing what he could or couldn’t say to her, likely leading to him keeping things from his mam, in order to keep the peace. Even now, he keeps secrets to not distress her, knowing any wrong thing could send her spiralling into distress or anger. Gio has many mood swings that reflect his mams.

To say the least, when things were good between them they were vey good, and when things were bad they were very bad, neither Gio or Maria do things half way, so their relationship is a pendulum swing of extremes. 

When Gio thinks back on his childhood with his mother he can never make up his mind about how he feels, to him his mother was both his best friend and his dictator (He’s very dramatic). He’s made his peace that they’ll never go too long without arguing, that he’ll never truly make his mother understand his perspective on things, and him hers, and that there are things that happened when he was a kid that he knows shouldn’t have. But he knows that at the end of the day his mam would shout down teachers for him, would spend whats little left of her money on anything to make him happy, that she’s just scared and unwell and wants whats best for him, even though her ways of achieving this may not always be the best. 

tldr:

Maria and Gio are not ‘half arsed’ kind of people and their relationship reflects this.

[professionaljester]

what are you suppose to do when all the coping skills a therapist would teach you arent working

[graveyarrdshift]

the sexual tension between me and relapse

[kinnbig]

🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

[winterstaryu]

I said something that could have been interpreted as mean literally 3 days ago and I still can't stop thinking about it

[angelstrawbabie420]

in my quest to quell my pain ive only hurt myself worse. damned if i do damned if i dont.

[serendipitous-mage]

......... who's gonna tell him ... .. ill do it @markiplier

[babyfairy]

weekend is here. time for 24/7 intense panic-inducing intrusive thoughts

[bunnihearted]

📖🖊❄️

[temeraire]

i need something niceys im having such a bummer time rn

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when I’m not anxious at all about anything especially not traveling or not being home or being around strangers or going to a new airport or not being in control of the schedule or not having immediate access to my safe foods or not seeing funk and I’m definitely not anxious about being in new places and meeting new people and animals and having to be a person while trying to balance my emotions out enough that I don’t bring every conversation down while simultaneously only thinking about saying the wrong thing and bringing the conversation down

[yardsards]

i think the issue with having an extremely inconsistent sleep schedule is not that your overall daily schedule will be out of wack (i am quite fine with changing schedules) but rather that all hours of the day are Schrodinger's Bedtime. like, going to bed just feels like An Option at all times and this leads to a lot of laying in bed almost dozing but not really sleeping