#(......i have people issues to the point where having to Talk To A Doctor or whatever you have to do feels literally impossible </3) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kendrixtermina · 2 hours ago

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I swear a lot of these people seem to have Rei mixed up with Anthy from Utena & just never paid any attention to her character or statements that were made about her by the staff (I have a thinkpiece written about it about that here and here) aside from heavy cherrypicking to support their fanwank. (For starters, Rei's problem/flaw isn't mindless obedience, it's resigned fatalism, and she was very much supposed to come across as someone who's gloomy & difficult to approach, not whatever the haters chose to plaster on her. Though that is an issue that you see with ppl with less expressive personality types that ppl will just project stuff on them. Even regardless of any ship stuff that's just quite unjust to Rei.)

To the extent that Rei can be said to be a fantasy of any sort, Asuka is also a fantasy. She's literally a genius with model looks, basically the anime version of that guy who became a harvard doctor a navy seal and an astronaut, and a "hot foreigner" trope to boot.

They're representing contradictory appeals (and on a deeper level, various conflicting psychological drives & needs), like emotional safety & excitement, sadism & masochism... both are asignd both negatively & positively connotated concepts.

Not to mention, she's right there with Misato & Asuka in the "people are complex and have different sides to them that can be challenging" dialogue in EoE (the one where all three are shown in the train and/or naked), indeed she gets the dialogue explaining it to Shinji - & she's a good example here because he's been avoiding her ever since finding out all that complicated stuff about her origins.

He'd go to her if he wasn't scared, so Asuka's rightfully pissed to be his last choice & he's probably also going to the person who always puts him down & rejects him because when you hate youself being bashed feels like being told the truth & everything else can't be trusted or brings up insecure feelings. So the two represent a "crab bucket".(though in the end he shies away even from Asuka)

This is also kinda reflected in the ep 26 where he wishes Rei was just a regular classmate with no connection to any mad science stuff, so he can have a normal classroom romance with her. (meanwhile Asuka becomes a childhood friend, bond comradery without any lust or competition complicating it, though it's ego flattering if she still shows a bit of interest...) but that's of course not the reality he lives in.

This is definitely a point where Shinji dropped the ball when Rei needed him (although one might wonder how much he could even do on his own, similar as with Misato.) - he's totally overwhelmed, has lost everything at this point & has no reliable adult figures left to talk to.

& then the last Rebuild basically ask what if that was different. What if he had more processing time & positive adult role models (the grownup classmates) - it's very much bringing up the catharsis that was tragically thwarted in the OG where Rei blows up "before she could convey her heart"(as per the EoE booklet) & Shinji just keeps avoiding her.

Here Rei gets to figure out & express her feelings, & we see that given more processing time, Shini was, in fact, capable of accepting her just as she is ("Ayanami is Ayanami"), & afterwards this is the catalyst that leads him to confront Gendo (along with the help he got from everyone else but this is defs a big one, seeing how he carries the player sh gave him like a talisman)

- and he learns to get used to/ tolerate positive treatment more broadly. ("why would you all be so nice to me!" "...because we care about you?")

(It also shows Rei getting the parental love she never got/ futilely longed for from Gendo from Grownup!Hikari instead.)

Just look at the scene where Mari & Shinji have followed Gendo into minus space and she's like, "it's going to be difficult to catch him..." but Shinji just shakes his head & calls for Rei, with total faith that she's going to let him take EVA 01 from right under Gendo's nose

Quite some stretch from the Shinji who doubted any gesture of goodwill & frantically feared that ppl would stop wanting him the moment they're out of earshot

Additional Reishin Thoughts

I’ve been thinking about my OTP again and why it’s so hated by the fandom. One misconception I think a lot of people have is that it’s the “easy” ship compared to Asushin and that it would be a submissive tradwife marriage. Rei still challenges Shinji to not just run away, grow up and learn to love himself and challenges his worldview of demanding validation from others by calling him out for never trying to understand anyone else.

People who claim it’s incest ignore that in 3.33, Shinji wasn’t really upset about Rei’s origins, just that he failed to save the Rei he knew. Rei is sort of a metaphor for acceptance. Shinji accepts that Rei Q is still Rei even if she doesn’t have all her memories and him learning about her origins is less to squick people out and more a lesson about how you can’t have the good without the bad when it comes to people you care for.

I think some people are projecting their issues with traditional families onto this pairing and their feminist critiques are actually quite demeaning to Rei. Her whole arc is about breaking free and proving she’s not just Gendo’s replacement goldfish. I don’t think she’d be a submissive tradwife and is perfectly capable of holding her own. Shinji has his flaws but he respects her and wouldn’t treat her like a 50s housewife. I think a lot of people let their disgust towards this ship get in the way of understanding what it is and ignore the beauty of it.

What makes it appealing to me is that it’s the story of two lonely kids helping each other grow and face both internal and external challenges and gaining a deep emotional understanding. I respect people who prefer Asushin or Kawoshin for whatever reasons they have. I just wish that same respect could be afforded back.

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talkorsomething · 7 months ago

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Literally right after i decided i really do want to start hrt i was like wait. My face Will Change. Do i want this???

Um ... yea that's the point? Hello?!?!

#trans #trans ftm #transmasc #hrt #ftm hrt #BIG SIGH. i finally decided it's okay to not be fully at peace with possible balding & that topical(hopefully) finasteride i could [...]#[...] definitely look into if needed. that's it! that was the last thing i thought i had reservations about! augh!!!!!!!#i don't know. maybe it's because this is the first time i've really... considered it considered it as something i'm definitely going to do?#because if my situation will change maybe they'll be more okay with it... i dunno.#i've just wanted this for a while & i dont understand why face changes worry me when that's literally what i want .......#is it the i am autistic? is it the maybe this really is something i could do? feel free to discuss!#no but seriously if anyone has like. advice or experience or whatever feel free to share #(......i have people issues to the point where having to Talk To A Doctor or whatever you have to do feels literally impossible </3)#(this is a 'someone will have to step by step walk me through everything' situation once i actually have money to start hrt)

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violetbeauregut · 8 months ago

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In Defense of Feedism

I was absolutely struck when I read @fatliberation‘s beautiful, vulnerable post the other day. They always have brilliant ideas and they show unfailing grace and kindness to everyone, despite a ton of rude, ill-informed backlash (I would 100% recommend following them).

I can’t stop thinking about the reactions to that post and how incredibly strange it is to have to tiptoe around feedism (to use an umbrella term) in a movement that is supposed to be centered around ending the oppression of fat people.

I can understand why fat people who are not feedists would be weary or even repulsed by this kink. From the outside it may seem degrading and manipulative that the language and insults used against fat people are replicated in the bedroom. It is also harmful to be fetishized when you do not want to be fetishized, both in real life and online.

But these are the only points I’ve heard against feedism that I consider to be a legitimate argument in the discourse of fat liberation, as these are the only claims against feedism I’ve come across that are not based in fatphobia. If you are in favor of fat liberation, then you must see fatness as morally neutral. Therefore, the choice to gain weight is not inherently “good” or “bad,” it is instead a matter of autonomy– a right that should be granted to everyone, regardless of size.

The major issue with feedism is the same issue that permeates all kink and, by extension, all sexuality: consent. There are feedists, particularly feeders, who fetishize all fat people, regardless of their wishes; feedists who try to force fat people to participate in kink with or without their knowledge or permission. This is abhorrent behavior; there are no excuses for it. But the problem here is a violation of consent and not the kink itself. The unethical practice of kink does not make the kink unethical. And while feedees are often disregarded in discussions of feedism and fat liberation (which I have already talked about in depth here), there are most assuredly fat feedees, like myself, who are fully consenting to fat fetish play.

While I can only speak for myself, I know that I am not the only person who developed this kink because of weight-related trauma. When you grow up fat, when you are forced to go to Weight Watchers at seven years old, your brain comes to associate fat as taboo and taboo as sexy–but it goes beyond an attraction to something risky or frowned upon.

I live my life as a fat woman; I am fat at the doctor’s office and fat in tiny airplane seats and I am especially fat as a feedee. No matter if I’m engaging with my kink or not, I am fat and I don’t get to stop being fat outside of my bedroom. Out of all of the scenarios where I am existing in my fat body, engaging in kink play is the only one where I am experiencing pleasure because of my body, not despite it. It’s arousing to be praised for the thing that once made you hate yourself. It’s arousing to engage with something you fear or that has harmed you in a safe, controlled context where you have all the power to make it stop.

What anti-feedist fat liberationists need to understand is that feedism is, at its core, a resistance to fatphobia. When you see things that are typically fatphobic in feedist play– terms like “pig,” “cow,” “tubby,” etc. and comments about being “out of shape” or “ruined” by fat– it is not a replication of weight stigma, but a subversion of it. Feedism takes the harmful stereotypes of fatness and robs them of their power by putting them in a new context; a context where fatness is so desirable that feedists want more of it. By using the language and misconceptions of fatness to give and receive pleasure instead of to oppress, feedism not only creates a safe space to heal from fatphobic trauma, but it empowers fatness– it empowers fat people, which is supposed to be the goal of fat liberation.

#fat liberation

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drchucktingle · 6 months ago

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POUNDED BY DR. GLOBUS

wanted to post today about recent health journey of chuck. ALL STARTED at texas show when i began to feel tightness in throat. i have learned this is called GLOBUS which is a tingler character name if ive ever heard one. got through appearance and had blast but felt terrible

plane journey home was even worse. first thought i strained my voice, then tested for covid (negative) and then figured it was just some kind of virus. had running nose and hoarse and extreme pain behind face and MOST of all this golf ball throat

figured i would get better as viruses tend to go but I DID NOT. after a few weeks went to way of urgent care and they took one look and said you have EXTREME FORM OF ACID REFLUX called laryngopharyngeal reflux (also great tingler character name)

basically this is when your stomach acid comes all the way back up into your throat and erodes it. they immediately put me on medications name of pepcid plus tums plus gaviscon and on and on. was inhaling a dang pharmacy every morning

problem is, NO CHANGE. in fact it started getting worse. in addition to previous symptoms i now couldnt keep any food down. upset stomach all the time. could barely sleep. plus it is scary to have a sickness that gets WORSE over time like this

more doctor talks. i up doses of medication to combat sickness but does not seem to work. one night wake up and think 'dang i need to go to er my stomach is going to just melt or something' (keep in mind because i cant keep food down i am always hungry too).

i go to hospital and they say 'WHOA we need to intervene right now we are doing some tests and putting you on SERIOUS LIFE CHANGING MEDICINE. but here is catch to do the tests we need you to stop all your medication for 48 hours and it will be HECK but you gotta do it bud'

so i stop all medication in preparation for new SICK LIFE and suddenly… i start feeling better. not just a little but after weeks of this awful way i wake up in ONE DAY and feel fully cured. now heres twist: at the same time this was happening I started taking allergy medicine

you may already know where i am going with so i will just hit you with it. my INITIAL SICKNESS was just extreme seasonal allergies that required nothing more than claritin and flonase. however i was misdiagnosed with ACID REFLUX and medication was making my stomach a wasteland

the second i stopped taking acid reflux meds and started on allergy trot i was better almost instantly. today i feel HECKIN GREAT. (SIDE NOTE: after 4 years of chronic pain i am so thankful to not have some OTHER long term health trot to deal with. DANG)

so what is lesson here? first of all please do not think this is in ANY WAY anti-doctor rant or anti-medicine. my doctors were trying their best and made a mistake, they are just people. ALSO while acid reflux medicine made me sick, allergy meds made me better. i am SO fortunate

but what is REALLY fortunate is that chuck is covered under SWEET BARBARAS HEALTH CARE (she gets very good coverage under the frozen lake). most artist buckaroos, even WILDLY successful ones, do not have health care which is huge issue that should be talked on more.

point is EVERYONE should have healthcare. this whole adventure was bad, but it also only cost me 50 dollars. hundreds of thousands of other buckaroos would have to deal with this PLUS it would completely upend their life to cover medical expenses because of a SIMPLE MISTAKE

so that is my story, usually there is more of a lesson to these rants but this one is really just ‘dang what a trip.’ so grateful for my health and my way and the fact i can get simple allergy medicine over the counter. most of all THANKFUL FOR MY BODY it is such a treat to exist

thank you for reading and remember to advocate for yourself and your feelings both BODY and MIND at the doctor. listen to your trot and do not forget that LOVING YOURSELF AND THE SYSTEMS OF YOUR BODY proves love just as much as loving others. trot on buckaroos

#buckaroo lifestyle #health

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nothorses · 1 month ago

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hi sorry to bother u about this, i searched around transmasc subreddits for an answer to this and while i saw a few people joking about getting dry cramps, nobody seems to know what this is. and i vaguely remember seeing a post by you mentioning "mystery cramps" in a post also about vaginal atrophy, but I didnt pay attention to the post much at the time bc at that point i wasnt experiencing atrophy or mystery cramps.

but now I'm a bit over a year on T, (my periods stopped only about 4 months ago though, because i was on a much lower dose than most for a lot longer time than most. that ~4 months ago time frame lines up with upping my dose from 0.2 to 0.3ml. i'm on 0.4ml tho now as of about 3 weeks ago) and suddenly i'm getting "mystery cramps" sometimes, it seems to happen especially the night before my T-shot day, (but i cant say that with certainty—i know i'm having them right now and my shot day is tomorrow morning, and i think thats been the case, but i dont know for sure) and they feel exactly like period cramps. to the point where i feel super paranoid that maybe i've been injecting improperly and the testosterone isnt absorbing right and my period is actually coming back. (something i often have nightmares about)

i searched your blog again for that post and did find it, (the one about estradiol cream treating it) but the wording of it is a little unclear and i wanted to just clarify that this is the same thing youre talking about? or if what im experiencing is different than the "mystery cramps" you meant and i should see a doctor

I am for sure not a doctor, and I think you should see one either way!

My personal understanding of the "mystery cramps" is that it's a part of "vaginal atrophy" that some, but not all trans folks who go on T experience, and it usually doesn't start until a couple of years on T ( which is also, to my knowledge, based on more standard doses as opposed to "low-dose" T).

Mine started about two years in, and was happening occasionally at first- always at night, and often the day before my T shot- then progressed to several nights a week over time. Nowadays I tend to experience cramping almost every time I so much as miss one dose of estradiol. Ibuprofen and Midol are the only OTC pain relievers that seem to do the trick, and the cramping will keep me up through the entire night untreated. It also tends to come in fairly predictable waves (spaced maybe 15-30 minutes apart) and right before I started estradiol, I remember getting some light spotting as well.

iirc, I talked to my PCP when it was just starting up, and their response was along the lines of "that's weird, let's keep an eye on it". I moved and didn't have a PCP for a while, so when the spotting started, I went to a walk-in urgent care clinic and talked to them. They gave me a referral for an ultrasound, and encouraged me to go to a "women's health" clinic that had long history of specializing in trans care as well. When I talked to the folks at that clinic, they encouraged me to go through with the ultrasound (I didn't), and prescribed estradiol cream because I asked them to and they didn't see a reason not to try it.

If you think it's possible this is what's going on with you, I would really encourage you to talk to a doctor, specifically bring up research around this issue and estradiol cream as a treatment option, and ask them if there's a reason not to try it just to see if it does anything for you. If nothing else, estradiol cream also treats vaginal dryness, tightness, and inflammation (other symptoms of "vaginal atrophy"), so it might be worth a shot for those reasons anyway!

And don't do what I did; if they want you to do an ultrasound or whatever else, go with it, and rule out other possibilities. Listen to medical advice from medical professionals who know your medical history and who you trust are listening to you & know what they're talking about.

#advice #testosterone #transmasc #hrt #trans hrt #testosterone hrt

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alessiasfreckles · 9 months ago

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not good, not bad, just different (leah williamson x ADHD!reader)

disclaimer: this is based off of my personal experience of ADHD. this is in no way saying that this is what adhd looks like for everyone!!

a/n: based on this request! i hope you like it, i'm sorry it's so all over the place but that also felt pretty thematic so... hopefully it's okay. i'm planning on doing 1-2 more parts to this! the next part will be about the reader getting diagnosed and coming to terms with their diagnosis + telling the other lionesses about it. also if you're interested in more WLW football based fiction involving ADHD, read Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner!

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You had always felt… different. Not in a ‘not like other girls’ kind of way, more like an ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. Things just seemed to be so much harder for you than for everybody else.

As a teenager, you were constantly getting told off by your parents for your messy room and bad grades. You were a smart kid, they said, so why couldn’t you just do your homework and study for tests like everyone else?

You would ask yourself the same thing. Forcing yourself to sit at your desk, staring at your maths textbook, desperately begging your brain to just cooperate, just this once, not understanding why it was so hard to just do the work.

When your parents would come into your room you would instantly feel a flash of white-hot shame at the state of it. Clothes everywhere, rubbish you’d forgotten about in corners, plates, cups, half empty water bottles. You couldn’t help it, it was like once something was out of your line of sight, you just forgot it existed, like the plate of half-eaten food that you’d put next to the bed at some point and then had absent-mindedly pushed under the bed to get it out of your way. When you found it weeks - okay, months - later, you were so embarrassed by the mould that you secretly threw it away rather than take it downstairs to the kitchen, where anyone could see it.

You would forget things you knew you should remember, things that anyone else would have remembered, like weekly tutoring sessions that your parents paid for (something they reminded you of when you forgot, yet again). You felt so stupid. It was at the same time, every Wednesday after school, so why couldn’t you remember?

Or doctor’s appointments, dentist appointments, any kind of appointment really. You would write it into your calendar, set yourself a reminder on the day, set yourself another reminder 30 minutes before, and all that would happen is that you would swipe away the reminder thinking ‘oh, yeah’, and then you’d continue doing whatever you were doing before. It was only when you’d hear the phone ring that you’d instantly know it was about you, about the appointment you’d missed, or maybe it was from school, or maybe something else you’d just completely forgotten about.

And all of that wasn’t even taking your issues with human interaction into account. You’d always struggled to make friends, especially as a girl who liked football. When you hit 9 or 10, the other girls in your class started to grow more interested in talking about boys, or music, or tv. You couldn’t understand what they found so interesting, that they’d rather spend breaks just sitting around chatting to each other when they could be running around playing football, or some other game, or anything more exciting.

As you got a little older, though, you realised that it was clearly a ‘you’ problem. People at your secondary school were nice, for the most part, but you still struggled to make friends. When you’d accidentally interrupt someone, or start talking too much and too loudly in excitement, or fidget a little too noisily, people would give you looks and whisper to each other about how weird you were. You learned to sit on your hands to stop yourself from clicking a pen or tapping your fingers, to keep quiet to avoid saying the wrong thing or saying it the wrong way.

Football was a good escape. It was fast-paced enough that you didn’t have time to think about other things, and there was enough going on that your brain wasn’t looking for external stimulation. You’d always been observant, noticing things most people wouldn’t notice, and you used it to your advantage. You were quick with the ball and you seemed to always know where everyone was around you. You were so good, in fact, that you made the England U17 squad - something you’d hoped would make you seem a little cooler at school, but just added to your ‘weirdness’.

That time was far behind you now, though. Now you were in your twenties and not only played football professionally, having joined Arsenal when you were 19, but also played for the England senior squad, one of the Lionesses.

That’s not to say that you didn’t still struggle with things. Your apartment was a mess, you lost things constantly, you would still interrupt people and fidget. You had friends though, at least. If anything, people knew what you were like and they loved you for it. It became a running joke on match days that you would inevitably lose your shoes, or your shin pads, or your phone, or that you’d need to borrow a hair bobble from someone. Everything would always show up right as you started to panic, though. Your shoes would be in the bathroom, because you’d been holding them when you went in to go to the toilet before the game like you always did. Your shin pads would be in the pockets of your jacket, one on each side, so you wouldn’t lose them.

“Looking for this?” Leah would ask, pulling your phone out of her pocket and smiling at the look of relief on your face.

“Yes! Where was it?”

“On the bus. You left it on your seat,” she explained.

“Huh. That doesn’t sound like me,” you joked.

“Nah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you,” she would say with a wink.

So, yeah. Maybe you had a reputation as the forgetful one, and the messy one, and the chaotic one, and the distracted one. But that was just who you were, right?

---------

Okay, you knew you were here for a reason. There must have been something you were going to get from the prep room, that’s literally the only reason you were there. You mentally went through everything you needed; shoes, on your feet, jacket, wearing it, headphones, in your pocket, water bottle - fuck, that was it! Your bottle!

You grabbed it from the bench where you’d left it and headed back out. On the way you needed to pee, so you quickly went to the bathroom, washed your hands, and went back to the training pitch.

“Did you get your water bottle?” Leah asked, a quizzical look on her face as she looked at your empty hands.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “I had it. Where the fuckety fuck did I put it?”

“Y/n, come on! Training started 5 minutes ago!” one of the trainers called over. You felt a white hot flash of shame in your belly, heat rising to your face.

“Do you want me to help you look for it?” Leah asked.

You shook your head, looking down. “No, it’s fine,” you muttered. “Let’s just start training.”

After training, Kyra came over to you in the changing room.

“Here,” she said, holding out your bottle. “I found it in the toilets, on the sink.”

---------

After that you made a list. You stuck it to the inside of your cubby, and every day you would look through it, double checking everything before you left the room. It helped for a while, until you started seeing the list as part of the background and your brain started ignoring it.

When you went to international camp, it got worse. You were away from your routine, in an unfamiliar environment. At least the people you were with was pretty much the same as always. As nice as it was to see everyone though, it was draining, too.

“Y/n? What do you want?” Leah asked. You were on a rare night out, the whole team at a restaurant by the beach together.

“Huh?” you asked, frowning. At a table nearby, people were singing ‘Happy Birthday’, cheering, clapping. On the other side of you, someone was having a conversation - it sounded like they were on a first date, but that didn’t make sense, you were in Spain, they sounded English, why would they be on a first date here?

“What do you want to order?” Leah asked again, prompting you. The waitress stood there, looking at you expectantly, notepad in her hand. A light flickered somewhere in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, um, I,” you stuttered, looking at the huge menu in front of you. The people on the date were talking about what kind of things they liked to do on holiday, she liked to go sightseeing, he just wanted to relax, at another table a baby started crying, the ice in people’s glasses was clinking, knives and forks were scraping against plates, that song you’d had stuck in your head for days now was still playing on a loop in the back of your head, your leg was bouncing uncontrollably under the table, someone’s nails were tapping against their phone, the man was telling the woman that the whole point of holidays is to relax-

Leah’s hand on your knee made you look up from where you’d zoned out looking at the menu. The waitress was gone. Leah was looking at you with a concerned expression, her hand steady on your knee.

“Do you want to go outside, get some fresh air?” she asked calmly.

You nodded wordlessly.

With a hand on your arm she guided you outside the restaurant, taking you to a nearby bench to sit down. The breeze cooled the sweat on the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Are you cold?” Leah asked, reaching for her jacket.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you said, breathing in deeply. You knew you should just go back inside, suck it up, smile at Leah and say everything was okay, but you just couldn’t yet. You just needed a few more minutes.

You sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t a bad silence, but you could tell Leah was giving you space to talk whenever you felt ready. You didn’t want to talk about what had just happened though, you felt too embarrassed about getting overwhelmed like that. Everyone else was fine, it was just you who couldn’t handle it.

“The people at the table next to us, I think they were on a first date,” you said instead, looking at your hands.

“Yeah?” Leah laughed.

“Yeah. But, like, why would they be on a first date here? They sounded English, why are they on a first date at a restaurant in Spain?” you asked.

“Huh, I dunno,” Leah mused. “Maybe they’re both on holiday and happened to meet and decided to go on a date?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. After a few seconds of quiet, you sighed. “I’m sorry about all that. I just got… there was just a lot going on.”

Leah squeezed your knee. “It’s okay. It was busy in there, wasn’t it?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. My brain just couldn’t handle it all. All the noises, and the menu- oh, fuck, I didn’t order anything!”

“It’s okay,” Leah chuckled. “I ordered for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. A sandwich and chips. If you don’t want it I’m sure someone else will eat it,” she shrugged.

“I didn’t even notice you ordering for me,” you frowned. “I feel like something’s wrong with me.”

“Wrong with you? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I- I feel like something is wrong with my brain,” you tried to explain, not knowing how to put it into words.

Leah frowned.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Let’s go back inside. Everyone is probably wondering where we are.”

“Wait, y/n, we can stay outside for a little bit longer,” Leah said.

“No, no,” you stood up quickly, not meeting her eyes. “Let’s go. I’m okay, I promise.”

———

It didn’t take long for Leah to corner you the next day, determined to talk to you..

“You seem distracted,” Leah said, sitting down next to you on the bench. “More distracted than usual, I mean.”

“Ha, yeah,” you said. “It’s kind of ironic, actually. I’m distracted because I’m distracted.”

“Right…” she said, frowning. “You’re distracted because you’re thinking about why you’re distracted?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to think of how to word it. “We all know I get distracted easily, right?”

The blonde nodded. “Yeah, you’re like a magpie or something. You see something shiny, you gotta pick it up. Except the shiny thing is literally anything that catches your attention,” she laughed.

“Exactly! Well, I was looking some stuff up online, or, no, I saw some stuff online, wait, let me start again,” you said. “My thoughts are moving faster than my mouth. Okay, so, when I was a teenager, I was on tumblr a lot. It was the only social media I really had. And on tumblr I’d see a lot about people with ADHD and autism and about hyperfixating on things. And I’ve always kind of hyperfixated on stuff - I mean, football, obviously, but other stuff too, like how on my days off I’ll binge watch an entire season of a TV show and then not shut up about it for like, a month straight, and then I’ll lose interest and basically never mention it again.”

“Or like when you decided to start playing guitar and bought a guitar and had 2 lessons and then stopped, or like when you got really into gardening for a few weeks and bought all those plants and seeds and books about gardening and then realised it was the wrong time of year for half the things you wanted to plant?” Leah asked, an amused look in her eyes.

“Huh. Yeah, I guess those count too,” you said, frowning. “So, yeah, I hyperfixate on things. And I’ve only ever seen it mentioned together with ADHD and autism. But I always thought wow, that’s so crazy that I do that but I don’t have either of those!”

“I feel like I know where this is going,” Leah smiled.

“Leah, what if I do have ADHD? I don’t think I have autism, I mean, I might, but I haven’t really looked into it yet, maybe I should-”

“One thing at a time, okay?” she laughed, putting a hand on your arm. “Y/n, we both know I am in no way qualified to tell you if you have ADHD or not. But I know you very well. We’ve known each other for what, 5, 6 years now? And it would not surprise me in the slightest if you have ADHD.”

“Really?” you asked, incredulous. “What makes you say that?”

“You mean, aside from what I just mentioned?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Last night? At the restaurant?” she gently reminded you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I may have also read up on the topic a bit. I kind of suspected you might have ADHD, but I didn’t want to bring it up until you did,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. You felt something flutter in your stomach at her confession. “Anyway, one of the things I read was that people with ADHD also struggle with overstimulation and sensory issues. Do you think that could be what happened last night?”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly quiet. “Maybe?”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just-”

“No, no, it’s okay! It’s just a lot to take in.” you told her. Your mind was racing, thoughts splitting off into dozens of other thoughts, some fully formed and some nothing more than singular words or phrases.

You sat together in silence for a few minutes.

“What do I do now?” you asked Leah, your voice small. “I, um, I didn’t think I’d get this far. You’re the first person I’ve told, and I kind of expected you to tell me I’m being silly.”

“I would never say that,” she said, turning to look at you, her eyes fixed on yours. “I wouldn’t say that about something important to you, I promise. And as for what to do now, well, I guess you have a few options. You can keep going as you have been, and do some more research, if you want, and try to figure it out alone. Well, not alone. You’ve got me. Or you could speak to someone, a professional. See if your hunch is right.”

“And then?”

“I dunno, I guess that’s up to you. I suppose they’d be able to help you with coping mechanisms, or put you on medication, if that’s what you wanted,” she shrugs.

“Medication?” you asked. Your mind was full of pictures of hyperactive kids, bouncing off the walls. You propped your feet up on the bench, pulling your knees in close to your chest. “What if I’m wrong? What if there’s nothing wrong with me and I’m just being dramatic?”

“Then that’s okay, too,” Leah said firmly. “Then you’re just dramatic, but that’s okay, too. I promise.”

You nodded, resting your chin on your knees.

"Would you be able to help me find someone to talk to? I don't know how, or where, or, anything, really," you asked.

"Of course," she said, putting her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. "I'll help in any way I can."

#hannah writes fics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson fluff #adhd #woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader #awfc #woso imagine #woso fanfic

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suguru-getos · 11 months ago

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— soft yandere suguru geto pt 1 —

-> building the story in this one. warnings: none! the reader meets suguru for the first time since her best friend was encapsulated by a curse causing nightmares and issues. it’s fluffy <3

suguru had one goal — irradicate the non-sorcerers so there comes to be a world without curses. satoru on the other hand wanted to make people capable enough to fight the curses. the goal was same - a world where curses don’t exist anymore. suguru was hell-bent on achieving that of course. gaining fame as ��geto sama’ a monk-looking saintly human being who helps people. the backgrounds are for suguru to handle anyways - he needed curses to get powerful & eventually achieve his goals.

his hatred for monkeys was unsubstantiated. no one who was not in control of their cursed energies would be spared by suguru geto. he didn’t even spare his parents. though he knows certain monkeys are slightly more valuable than others. some are his banks, some give him curses to swallow. and some are the ones who have no control of their CE and end up attracting higher curses/creating them.

what he didn’t take into account was you. your best friend was tormented by sickening nightmares of being non-conned almost everyday. aches in the back, cramping and utter pain during her period. you had almost given up — as her roommate, you had searched all psychologists; all doctors. nothing seems to be working. until one day — you found a ‘monkey’ treated by none other than geto sama.

without wasting time, you believed their gratefulness and their willingness to lend you the address. since nothing is working — you will definitely try anything at this point.

the moment your car landed on the geto estate you knew this man was no joke. why else would he be able to afford something like this otherwise? on the other hand — you were suspicious as to his ulterior motives. what if he was a mafia boss or something? who knew. finally, after some wait; you were advised to follow the instructor who led you to suguru geto.

he sat there, a merry & a friendly smile over his face. something that’s practised even as he talks to your friend. “yumiko san.” he grins, “you have symptoms like rape nightmares, don’t you? you feel like you’re being touched in the wrong places & there’s nothing you can do about it?” your best friend teared up, she had never felt so intricately seen and heard the way geto had made her feel. he raised a hand, and the curse that was latched into her, unseen by you. unseen by her.. latched itself into suguru’s hand.

she instantly felt lighter & felt better. while you were extremely considerate of what suguru geto did, you were not pleased. what even was that — you and your best friend bowed and on your way to leave. you turned back, “what did you do?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“ah, i have god’s grace in my hands thankfully. nothing much. prayed on her behalf that her problems go away. little one.” he hums, monkeys are usually dumb enough to be happy-go-lucky with the treatment. you weren’t. suguru hums, “if that’d be all, you may leave. i have other things to cater to.”

your siren eyes met his own, deep down. you could sense suguru hated your best friend. it was just a hunch— the vibes were so off. you hum, “what do you practise then? what form of meditation?” you crossed your arms, eagerly wagering for more answers on his behalf.

suguru chuckled in disbelief, an insignificant, puny monkey was asking ‘him’ questions? “be grateful and leave.” he said dismissively. and your best friend held your wrist, dragging you outside. you were adorable and so curious. pity you were just an ordinary, low-class monkey.

“he’s a scammer, a fraud! i’m fucking sure! let’s go to a doctor.” you scoffed, gritting your teeth. glaring daggers at the man who laid down in front of you on a stage, seemingly uninterested. suguru wanted to play with you too, the same curse that was latched onto your friend, he transferred it into you, going out. now you’d have the same symptoms and suffer. shouldn’t have voiced your shit so hard, tsk…

unfortunately for suguru, you ended up like one of those who can see curses once subjected to cursed energy. you screamed gutterally when you saw the hideous creature attached to you. an amused smirk ran past his lips at the way you tried to shove it away. your friend was in utter confusion — what did she do? got on her knees and apologized on your behalf to ‘geto sama’ who promised to treat you. and forgive you of course. forcing her to leave.

you screeched curses and profanities at suguru, who was more than pleased to see you hit some sort of a standard he has for people he’s allowed to care about. his hand touched your crotch, right where the curse was supposed to be holding, unconcerned with your flustered resistance as he absorbed it.

“there we go, little girl.” he smiled, while you watched the curse turn into a ball. “this is the thing that was latched onto your friend. normal humans can’t see these. some of them can. i can.” you sat next to him and asked him a multitude of questions about this. you don’t remember the last time you had talked to someone this much & suguru doesn’t remember the last time he was so thoughtless. he was observing literally everything. your facial features, the way your brows scrunched when you emphasized over something, how you overcommunicated with your hands at times, rolled your eyes ever so often and shook your legs while you asked questions and waited eagerly for your answers. you blinked and your lashes looked so long and luscious, your hair suited you just well. he wonders how your soft looking skin would look all marked up with hickeys. he wonders how your voice would sound when you would moan or scream out his name. he wonders how his name would sound. how your lips would curve a certain way to pronounce ‘suguru’. oh he’s slowly losing his mind isn’t he?

he asked you to stay the night and join for dinner since it was quite late because of everything he just told you. you of course obliged and met his adopted daughters, miguel and the others who he called family. holy fuck they worshipped him. you knew that because of the way they respected you — treated you as their own because suguru said you are a guest today. his daughters were bratty but they knew their limits; seems like suguru raised them well.

after dinner, you joined him for a walk outside, pouting and flushed because he wasn’t wearing his gojo-gesa anymore. he almost looks so normal with that. “you aren’t an actual monk are you?” you raised a brow, grinning when he shook his head in denial. “no, i’m just here to collect cursed spirits because of my technique for a greater cause.” he hums; replying gently and looking deeply into your inquisitive eyes. you threw another question at him, seemingly obvious. “what greater cause?” you tilt your head like an indulged bird, and he caught that gesture. “want to know everything at once? hmm? little bird.” he smiled, looking relaxed and like a normal human being. “i’ll let you know with time.”

you had a peaceful and a sound sleep, why? because you were unaware how suguru watched you sleep in awe. just thinking of the ways he would watch you smile again, just thinking how he could make you feel special again? he can brain wash you into thinking humans are detestable, no?

the next morning, you were called for breakfast and had a great time, making promises to visit again while suguru bid you a farewell by kissing your knuckles. looking ever so charming. oh you will visit again, otherwise suguru geto would: either way… your red thread of fate was sealed.

suguru geto had a little crush…

or was he in love?

#geto suguru #geto hcs #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen hcs #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jjk drabble

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weebsinstash · 11 months ago

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something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all

it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?

Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred

Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates

Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in

Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)

It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular

And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-

#yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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copperbadge · 4 months ago

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Hi Sam! I wanted to ask if you feel lately like you've been getting anything positive out of your therapy, because a lot of your initial thoughts about it kind of mirror mine. I'm very logical (except when I'm upset at myself) and very skeptical, so I feel like a therapist either isn't going to tell me anything new, or that I'm going to just disregard it because I can't trick myself into believing things that I just plain don't believe.

But I'm also starting to come to a realization, two years after my ADHD diagnosis and letting go (without therapy!) of most of the executive dysfunction-fueled self worth issues I was having, that I'm kind of Not Okay in other ways. I'm safe —going to work every day and doing my job so I won't lose my livelihood and have never had a self harm urge in my life— But I'm not really okay. I'm having major self esteem issues related to my personality separate from the executive dysfunction that are putting me in a bad place. I don't want to take antidepressants for reasons I won't go into but that means my other option is therapy and... I don't know if I'm a person that therapy will actually work on. I found a lot of validation in some of your perspectives, about affirmations being bullshit and "mindfulness" exercises feeling impossible and useless, about not having an inner monologue and how that might be causing issues with traditional methods. So I was just wondering, do you feel like therapy is working now that you've been in it longer?

I've wasted a lot of money on "elective" (and ultimately useless, back to square one) medical nonsense this year and I'm not eager to waste more, but I've also met my insurance deductible so it's the best time to try it if I'm going to.

I mean, it depends on the modality a little but I don't think trying basic talk therapy can hurt, as long as you find a decent therapist. And it's better to try it now when you're feeling Mostly Okay than waiting until you are Really Not Okay. But this entire paragraph comes with a lot of context so....

A lot of what I talked about in terms of struggling with mindfulness, etc. was less related to the therapy I am still in than it was to the DBT class I took at Therapist's suggestion. We were both aware that she was basically throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, and while it was an interesting class I don't think for me it was helpful. As you mention, I struggled with affirmations and visualization since neurologically I'm not really set up for those; I don't think they're objectively bullshit but I do think there's an assumption within the mental health industry that they will have function for everyone and that's simply untrue, and the expectation that it will is very damaging. I also struggled with the physical-intervention aspects (called TIPP usually) which didn't work at all for me and felt frankly like doctor-approved self harm. DBT can get very culty, which set off a ton of red flags for me -- possibly false flags, but they still waved real big.

And that's because I also have a lot of trust issues surrounding therapy. To the point where, the minute one of the people running the DBT class made actually quite gentle fun of me for asking a question he couldn't answer, I checked out on anything he said. We were learning about a DBT concept called Wise Mind and I asked, "If wise mind is an identifiable mental state, how do we know if we're in it?" and when he couldn't quite answer beyond "It's different for everyone" I said, "But if we know it's real there must be some kind of common denominator, a measurable data point," and he said "Well, Sam, you're not going to levitate" and the rest of the class laughed. Sorry bud, this is almost certainly an over-reaction, but I'm me and you lost me when you came at me instead of just admitting you didn't know. (Also it turns out I just live in Wise Mind like 80% of the time which is one reason I couldn't tell.)

But basic talk therapy outside of DBT is just...you talk at someone about your problems and come up with ways to try and solve them, which is a lot more straightforward and way less frustrating. You have to be an active participant, you have to both have a goal and be willing to discuss reaching it, but that goal can be as simple as just "figure out what my mental health goals should be" at first. You don't have to learn like, vocabulary for it.

The thing is, while I have seen some improvement in regulation issues, I also struggle with basic talk therapy. Most people, and this blew my mind, see measurable improvement in nine to eighteen therapy sessions. A lot of people don't go long-term, they just are having a moment and get help getting through the moment and then can disengage, with their therapist's approval.

I was in therapy consistently from the age of nine to eighteen and only stopped because I reached legal majority and physically refused to go.

Not one minute of those nine years did I want to be there. And, because none of the three therapists I saw across those years actually explained to me why I was there or how therapy worked, for me it felt like "Your punishment for having feelings is to speedrun every feeling you had this week in an hour, to a stranger." There was also what my current therapist believes to be some extremely unethical behavior going on, which didn't help.

So it has taken actually a lot of time to get to a place where I would even allow her to understand what help I need. I've been in therapy for about a year (generally weekly but there have been some gaps) and it has only recently gotten deeper than very basic interpersonal problem-solving.

Like, two weeks ago I told her, "I had a thought this week that I couldn't tell you about something I was doing because then you'd have material on me" (meaning blackmail material) "and that's a fucked-up thing to think." And once I'd actually identified it as fucked up I had zero issue telling her about it, wasn't even nervous as I did so. Who's she going to tell? She's literally legally constrained from telling.

I think well over half of what she does is either validate that whatever emotion I'm having is normal, affirm my reactions so I don't keep believing I behaved weirdly, or praise something I've done that was a positive act. Does this work? Not always, because I'm unfortunately very aware that it's part of her job to do those things. But yeah, sometimes. Even if you don't fully believe it, "Hey that was a really smart move" is nice to hear. Sometimes she helps me come up with a plan for stressful future events or (rarely) behavior modification, and sometimes she either provides me with research or points me towards research I can do on my own. We don't do meditation or affirmations or stuff like that.

Like, last week I brought up the fact that I hadn't really ever thought about how if I have a disability that causes emotional dysregulation and I got it from my parents, they also likely had undiagnosed emotional dysregulation when raising me. So she said I should look into research on children with emotionally dysregulated parents. I was pretty annoyed by what I found (the ONE TIME adults are the focus instead of the kids is the ONE TIME I needed to learn about the kids, really?) but it led to something that was both informative and upsetting, so we discussed that. And when I was stumped about how to move forward with the information, she suggested that my general coping mechanism of writing about it was probably a good plan.

(At which point I just silently advanced my powerpoint presentation to the next slide, where I had a series of quotes from the Shivadh novels where Michaelis, acting as a parent, repeatedly does the exact opposite of the upsetting thing, because I realized even before the meeting that it's an ongoing theme in my work whenever I deal with people being parents. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor and also that I do.)

So yeah. Going into therapy you have to be ready to reject a therapist if you don't like them or if they get weird and pushy, you have to be ready to be a self-advocate, but you are the client; it shouldn't be super difficult to find someone who can at least walk you through what you want from it and agree not to do the stuff you don't want, and if you want to stop going you just...stop going.

Good luck, in any case! I hope you get what you need, whether or not that ends up being therapy.

#not yet fired from therapy #sitting in the back of DBT class

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irenespring · 1 year ago

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So I rewatched the House episode about the autistic child wherein Wilson correctly diagnoses House as being on the spectrum and then seemingly goes back on it for no valid reason. The most likely reason for this is writer cowardice (they didn't want to have to deal with a canon autistic character), but allow me to present a conspiracy theory: Wilson is autistic.

He has only one friend, who is also on the spectrum, because that friend alone can see and appreciate the side of him he usually hides. He has the same random interests as this friend. He seems to be the only one to understand what his friend is trying to say. He gives House second chance after second chance because he knows what it is like to miscommunicate/tries to give benefit of the doubt.

Most of his social interactions are extremely surface level: he has a pleasant script he sticks to, either for flirting, talking to a patient, or just talking to any random nt person. He gets married to people he doesn't let past the mask both because he wants to conform to social standards. He does it again because he thinks he just messed up the script last time and this time he will get it right. He cheats because he doesn't instinctively link sex and intimacy--what he grasps as a standard mistake is actually a betrayal. This also might explain why his most intimate relationship is with House, the person he doesn't script around, even though they never have canon sex.

He wants to be needed because when he can help people he feels like he is doing socializing right. When someone no longer needs him, he panics, because he either has to stop scripting or increase scripting, and both scare him.

He is also extremely specific about his routines and preferences, and gets annoyed when they are disrupted. He is paralyzed by open-ended decisions: when he is turned loose in a furniture store, he can't make a single choice because there are so many.

Wilson is extremely invested in scripting, to the point where he flees relationships when it no longer works. He spends all day every day trying very hard to be the picture perfect doctor, spouse, friend, etc. So when House is dealing with sensory issues around the carpet, he helps by explaining to Cuddy something he alone of the other characters understands. But when he talks to House about it, he blows this understanding off. In his mind, he works so hard to be so nice, so therefore it is possible, even if damages him. He probably doesn't know it damages him to the extent it does. Therefore, he insists House's behavior isn't because he's autistic, but rather because he's just an ass. Because if autism is an excuse to not mask, he hasn't needed to mask this whole time.

Not saying I'm wholly invested in this theory, but *imitates House's voice* "it fits."

#house md #james wilson #gregory house #autism #autistic characters #character analysis #character theory

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wosoluver · 8 months ago

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Healers got to date protectors - Headcanons

Misa Rodriguez x Physio!reader

Misa Rodriguez Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

How the two of you met

When Misa arrived one day at training, she couldn't help but notice the whispering going around the team.

They hardly ever got everyone together to talk about something, that wasn't football.

The friend groups were overall very divided.

But you know how it is. Gossip aways brings people together.

"What's going on?" Misa immediately asked Brunn.

"New member in the staff."

"And that's whats causing all of this?"

"It's a new physio. And she is gorgeous!" Sofie chimed in.

"I can't believe your guys are so worked up about that.

I thought something bad had happened."

"Oihane was the one who saw her when she stopped by to get tapping for her hamstring issue." Raso added.

"And now everyone is coming up with their own plans, to go into the office to meet her, without seeming so obsessed." Møller revealed.

"You guys want to fake needing physio sessions?" She was so confused. Why were they all acting like they hadn't seen a beautiful woman before?

"Not me!" "Nope" "I won't" the group of four said in unison, but they couldn't keep a straight face.

"You guys are unbelievable! I'm going out to the field."

By the end of the day she had landed badly on one of her jumps, and had a pain in her hand that wouldn't go away. But she refused going in, to check it out.

She didn't want to seem like she was partaking in the other girls' behavior.

So from training, she went straight home.

Next morning she didn't think she could skip checking in, just to make sure everything was alright and maybe get something to relieve that slight pain she felt.

She didn't want to tell anyone were she was going, so she decided on going to your office before training.

And once she saw you, she understood slightly, the commotion yesterday.

You were young, about the same age as her. That was very unusual when it came to the team's medical staff.

Your eyes were shiny and your smile caught her by surprise.

"Uhm, good morning." she choked out.

"Good morning!

Please don't tell me you feel a slight discomfort on your leg too." You joked in a light way.

"Oh- No. Its just, I landed badly on my hand yesterday. It tried sleeping it off but it didn't work."

"Come sit, I'll take a look."

You grabbed Misa's hand gently, to check what was going on.

"It doesn't seem to be anything to be worried about. It's barely a mild sprain. The discomfort should go away in two or three days max.

I'll tape you up to make sure you're safe for training. I don't want to risk worsening it."

As you grabbed your kit, you started to work on it.

"They're not really hurt." you let out a soft laugh at her words.

"I could tell. I think they forgot I'm a doctor." you joked.

"They're only doing this to have the chance to meet you."

"I suspected something was going on. That's why I didn't tell anyone about it. Imagine how alarmed they would be to find out half of the team had come in for a unscheduled physiotherapy session? In one day?" You both laughed about it.

"Well, you're all done here. Come back tomorrow so I can redo it. That's the best we can do, to heal it faster." Giving her a comforting smile.

"Thank you! I am Misa, by the way."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you." You said, as she left for training.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Where were you?" Asked Raso, knowing exactly where she was, from the tape on her wrist.

"I hurt my hand during training yesterday." There was no use trying to lie.

"Of course you did."

"I did! I swear!" letting out a laugh.

"Wow, Misa smiling in the morning? What have they done to you?" Asked Sofie coming in.

"Take a wild guess." Teased Hayley.

"No. I actually needed it."

"We believe you." at this point Misa was already rolling her eyes.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

This will be a series of headcanons! So far 3 parts planned. 🩷

#espwnt #misa rodriguez #misa rodriguez x reader #real madrid femenino #woso x reader

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praisethegabs · 1 year ago

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FREAK

Re2r!Leon x Scientist!Reader

synopsis: Leon is a test subject, a freak. He can't remember the world outside, and he doesn't have any notion of time. All he knows is pain. He doesn't have any hope left. He knows he'll die in there, completely alone, traumatized and scared. Until he meets you, the new leading supervisor.

warnings: angst, mentions of torture, blood, psychological abuse, trust issues, umbrella being umbrella. If you feel uncomfortable with this type of subject, DO NOT read it.

word count: 5106k

a/n: i got inspired by the c.ai bot from driftedlovers and made my own version after weeks chatting with the said bot. dividers are from @cafekitsune ♡

some people survive chaos, and this is how they grow. and some people thrive in chaos because chaos is all they know (unknown author)

Inside the white walls, Leon had no idea how the day was outside, if it was cold, raining, or if it was a sunny day.

He had no windows. All he could see was white every day.

He was there for so long that he barely remembered anything from the outside. His last memory from the world outside was something blue until he woke up inside that padded room.

Now, Leon used to be experimented with almost every day.

He hated when those doctors went inside his room to take him somewhere else. He knew he would feel pain and return to his room with new open wounds, purple marks, and blood. Why? He can't answer.

The only thing he knew was that he was kidnapped by Umbrella. He was their lab rat. A helpless man who was abused and experimented every single day. They didn't care about him at all. He tried to escape a thousand times, but he failed every single one of them.

Today, however, was the worst.

Leon came back from another round of tests and experiments, and he was bleeding a lot. His entire body seemed to be burning with excruciating pain. He was on the verge of tears. He crawled to his bed, his body shaking. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine somewhere peaceful, where he couldn't be hurt or touched by those monsters.

His eyes were about to cry when he heard someone walking inside. He slowly opened his eyes, his heart already beating faster inside his chest with pure fear. He was hoping to be one of the scientists, ready to take him again to the room.

But it wasn't one of the monsters.

"Hey" you said gently at him, your hand holding a first aid kit. "May I?"

You were pointing to his side, he followed your finger to his direction and with those scared eyes, he slightly nodded his head. Leon was taught — in the painful method — he wasn't allowed to talk with the scientists, only to talk when he was spoken to, and he could only say "yes, sir" or "yes, ma'am".

"I'm not gonna hurt you" You smiled very friendly at him, getting closer and kneeling next to his side. "It's okay, you can talk to me. I'm not gonna punish you"

"Who are you?" Leon asked, his voice full of suspicious and fear. You knew he was scared. You actually could tell he was terrified.

"I'm a cool and friendly scientist" You smiled and noticed that his eyes were on your ID, where he could read your name. "I'm the new supervisor. I saw that your ID is Experiment N⁰ One, but I'm not interested in titles and IDs. Can you tell me your name?"

Leon was now shocked. All the time he was in there, no one cared to know his name. To them, he was just a freak, an abomination. A lab rat. But you, you weren't like the others. You were the first person to show him kindness.

"I'm... Leon" he said, and the sound of his own name made him think he almost forgot who he was.

"Nice to meet you, Leon" You smiled again, stretching your hand so he could shake it. You noticed his arm full of scars, new cuts, and blood. "Let's take a look at those injuries, shall we?"

Leon watched you cautiously, his eyes filled with suspicion and fear. He had learned the hard way not to trust anyone in this place. But there was something about your demeanor that made him hesitate. You seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being.

You carefully cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch surprisingly gentle. As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes and spoke in a reassuring tone,

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Leon. I'm here to help, not to hurt." You said gently, using a wet cotton to clean one of his wounds.

You began to clean his wounds with a gentle touch, the antiseptic sting a harsh reminder of his painful existence. Leon winced as you tended to a particularly deep gash on his arm. Then, as if unable to contain his thoughts any longer, he spoke in a soft, broken voice.

"I miss the outside world," he admitted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't understand why they're using us for these cruel and painful experiments. We're humans, not lab rats."

You paused for a moment, your hands still on his injured arm. Your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of empathy and helplessness.

"I know, Leon," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I wish I had answers for you, but I'm just as much a pawn in this as you are. All I can do is try to ease your pain."

Leon went silent again. He had every reason to be suspicious towards you, and you couldn't blame him for this. Although your touch was gentle, and you moved with a quiet assurance that contrasted with the harsh, you could still feel the clinical atmosphere of the facility. Leon couldn't help but be suspicious, a feeling he had grown accustomed to over time.

As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes, the deep-rooted mistrust that had taken hold of him after countless experiments and cruel treatment. You paused again for a moment, looking into his eyes with genuine concern.

"Leon," you began softly, "I can see that you're scared, and you have every reason to be. But I want you to know that I'm different. I'm not like the others who have come before me."

Leon regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. He had heard similar promises in the past, only to be let down.

"I promise you, Leon, I'll be back to keep you some company. You're not just an experiment here. And I believe in treating you with the respect and kindness you deserve." You continued, yourr voice unwavering.

Leon studied your face, searching for any hint of deception, but he found none. Perhaps it was the sincerity in your eyes, or maybe it was the exhaustion of isolation that made him yearn for human connection once more.

"Okay," Leon whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. "I'll be here."

"I'll be back, Leon. You're not alone in this anymore." You smiled, a glimmer of warmth in the cold, white, and sterile room.

With that promise, you finished cleaning Leon's wounds and left the room, leaving him with a newfound sense of anticipation and a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. He was wondering why you were so kind at him because he was betrayed before. He had no reason to trust you.

Leon lay on the bed of his room, the sterile walls bearing silent witness to his torment. The memory of your unexpected kindness lingered in his mind like a flickering candle in the dark. He couldn't help but wonder why you had been different from the others, why you had chosen to treat his wounds with care.

His thoughts churned with suspicion and confusion. The trauma of the countless painful experiments he had endured had left him scarred, both physically and mentally. He had learned to trust no one in this sterile prison, where cruelty was the norm.

As Leon's mind raced, his heart pounded with anxiety. He questioned whether your kindness had been genuine or if it was merely a cruel ploy to manipulate him further. The fear that he had been fooled gnawed at him, twisting his already frayed nerves into tighter knots.

Hours turned into days, and Leon's stress and paranoia grew. He replayed every interaction with you in his mind, dissecting your words and actions for any signs of deceit. But the more he thought, the less he understood. You seemed genuinely different, but how could he be sure?

In the suffocating silence of his padded room, Leon's thoughts became a torment of their own. He longed for answers for a sliver of hope to cling to, but the shadows of doubt and fear loomed large. All he could do was wait, haunted by the uncertainty of your true intentions and the relentless trauma that had brought him to this point.

You were so busy during the weeks that you had no time to see anybody.

You were full with paperwork to do, files to read, and new reports to send to oversight. One file took all of your attention; it was the one from Leon. That said file had every report from the tests he was submitted into and what every supervisor before you did to him. You brought his file to your home. You needed to understand his condition better. All you knew was that he was there for years and he probably couldn't remember his own age. He was taken into the lab at a very young age, and he had no contact with the exterior.

No family, no friends. He was an orphan.

That's why he was the perfect subject for Umbrella. If he died, no one would come crying to collect his body. He had excellent grades at school, and he aspired to be a cop, which was according to his essays; Leon had everything the scientists were looking for, and that's why he was abducted so young. The sad part?

That boy was broken inside and out. His file had pictures of him being tested, naked, and exposed to a lot of painful experiments. They were doing atrocities with him, and now you could understand why he was looking terrified at you.

He was, at one point, drugged and abused. Those scientists under your supervision did a lot of things on him, and the more you read his file, the more disgusted you felt.

As you read through the file, your heart ached for Leon. You had met him only a few days ago, but in that short time, you had seen glimpses of the pain and trauma that haunted him. Now, with this file in your hands, you finally understood the full extent of his suffering.

The decision was clear in your mind.

You had to befriend him and offer him solace and support. In his condition, being manipulated, tortured and abused, hidden from the world, and unable to see the sun, Leon needed someone who wouldn't hurt him, someone who would stand by his side. You knew you had to do something. You needed time.

It was true that you were tired of everything you did for Umbrella Corporation.

Your soul was tainted with the horrors you made in the name of science. At least, you were trying to convince yourself you were doing good, even knowing you were actually drowned in chaos, your mind always remembering you that you were actually hurting others. You hated yourself every day.

You barely could look at your own image in the mirror.

At first, you were happy. After all, you have always been a loyal employee of Umbrella Corporation, working diligently in their research division. It was a prestigious job, one that paid well and provided you with a comfortable life. But it had also demanded your silence and your complicity in the face of questionable experiments and ethically dubious decisions.

But that thought changed after a year.

Suddenly, that beautiful image you had from them twisted into something dark and horrible. You had to face the truth, and it was crushing you.

You felt only shame and guilt. And it was burning you inside, and you couldn't sleep at night. Your conscience was heavy with everything you did for them, and now, you had one small opportunity to make things right. You had a small window, and you needed to act quickly.

After you arrived at the lab, the first thing you did was walk to his room. The security was high, but your ID card let you walk inside without any problem. And he was there. His white clothes had small spots of dried blood, and he seemed to be sleeping. You sighed.

"You came back" you hear him say, his voice surprised, and somehow, he wasn't so scared of you anymore.

"I told you I would come back. I'm sorry if I took long enough" you said, taking small steps towards him, because you don't know if he'll let you get closer.

"Why are you here?" Leon asks, and then you can notice he's fully aware and suspicious towards you. "Why do you care so much about me?"

"Let's just say... I want to make things right" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

"I don't buy it" Leon looks at you, his eyes full of doubts and fears. Of course, he wouldn't trust you immediately. You needed to earn him first.

"I know, and you have every reason to do so. But I don't mind spending my time trying to convince you I mean no harm" you said, taking another step closer, as your hands lay next to your body to let him know you're telling the truth. "I'm the cool scientist, remember?"

Leon smirked, but it was a sarcastic one.

"All the others told me the same bullshit and look what happened to me!" He almost shouts, his voice sounds angry. "At the end of the day, you are all the same, and I end up bleeding with a new scar"

The tension in the room was palpable, like an electric charge in the air. Leon stood on one side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes locked in a steely glare. On the other side of the room, you were facing him with a calm determination that belied the storm raging within you.

"Leon, I need you to understand something," you finally began, your voice steady and resolute. "I said it before, but I won't hurt you. I know you don't trust me, but I promise you, I'm not here to harm you."

Leon's jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his distrust evident in every fiber of his being. He had been through too much in his life to simply trust someone, especially someone like you, who was a relative stranger.

"You're just like the others" Leon muttered, his voice a low growl. "And you're here only to bring me more pain"

"I know you've been let down in the past, Leon. But I want to help you. I believe in you, and I'm committed to seeing you well" You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to break through Leon's wall of suspicion.

Leon's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and uncertainty. He had heard promises like this before, and they had always led to disappointment. He couldn't afford to be let down again, not when so much was at stake.

"Why should I believe you?" Leon demanded, his voice rising.

You took a step closer, closing the physical gap between the both of you, but realizing that the emotional gap was still vast.

"Because I've been where you are, Leon. I've faced my own demons and fought my own battles. I know what it's like to be in a dark place, and I want to be the light that guides you out of it." You said to him, your voice still showing respect and kindness.

Leon's anger seemed to waver, but he wasn't ready to let his guard down completely.

"Actions speak louder than words," he said, his voice softer now, but still laced with doubt.

"You're absolutely right, Leon. I can make promises all day, but it's my actions that will prove my sincerity. Give me a chance to show you that I mean what I say." You nodded in understanding.

As you extended your hand toward Leon, he hesitated for a moment before reluctantly reaching out to shake it. Your hands met, and in that simple gesture, a fragile bridge of trust began to form. You knew that gaining Leon's trust would be a long and challenging journey, but you were determined to prove to him that you are different, that you were there to help him heal, not hurt him.

Two months had passed by since your first meeting, and that day, you told him you weren't there to hurt him.

And every since that day, Leon still had trouble to trust you, despite all the attempts to befriend him. You were trying, and you knew you were getting in there. Slowly, but effective.

Leon had become all too familiar with the routine of his daily experiments. Each morning, they would escort him down the cold, sterile hallways of the facility, his heart heavy with dread. The scientists, faceless behind their masks and lab coats, were relentless in their pursuit of knowledge, no matter the cost.

Today was different, though. As they strapped him onto the cold metal table, he felt a shiver of apprehension. The restraints were tighter, the needles sharper, and the machines more ominous. Leon's breath quickened as he watched them prepare the apparatus, their voices hushed in clinical conversation.

"Definitely a freak" one of them muttered, and the other laughed. "I mean... look at him. Looks like a walking corpse or whatever he looks like"

Leon was also used to the mean comments they made about him. It was easy for them to mock him. After all, they didn't starve the way Leon did. They weren't underweight as he was, and, of course, they had a place to call home, where they could live a normal life — something that was taken from him.

The first shock sent searing pain coursing through his veins. Leon's body arched in agony, his screams echoing off the sterile walls. He clenched his fists, trying to endure the torment, but his willpower crumbled with each successive jolt.

Hours passed, or maybe it was mere minutes, but to Leon, it felt like an eternity. He lost track of time as they pushed him beyond his limits, subjecting him to doses of needles, shocks, burns, and the ice room. The pain was excruciating, and he wondered how much more his frail body could endure.

Finally, they released him from the restraints, and Leon fell to the cold, hard floor. He was drenched in sweat, his body trembling with the aftermath of the ordeal. His mind was a fog of agony, and he struggled to make sense of his surroundings as they dragged him back to his padded room.

As they locked the heavy door behind him, Leon crumpled to the ground, more hurt than he had ever been before. The pain was unbearable, but there was something else too — an overwhelming sense of despair. He knew that tomorrow would bring another round of experiments, and he was trapped in this never-ending nightmare with no hope of escape.

The harsh, buzzing fluorescent lights above Leon's padded room flickered as the heavy door creaked open. Suddenly, you stepped inside, your footsteps muted by the cushioned floor. You carried a small medical kit and wore a look of sympathy that clashed with your usual clinical demeanor. Something that both of you were used to do, since you were promoted to supervision.

Leon lay on the floor, his body battered and broken from the day's experiments. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his face was contorted with pain. Silently, you knelt beside him, your gloved hands gentle as yoi began to assess his injuries.

The room was cold, the sterile walls offering no comfort. You worked in silence, tending to Leon's wounds with meticulous care that seemed out of place in this cold, heartless facility. You cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch as tender as it was professional.

As you worked, Leon's eyes filled with tears. He had endured so much, and the pain had become his constant companion. But it was your expected kindness that broke the dam. The tears streamed down his face, and he choked back sobs, unable to contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed him.

You paused in your ministrations, your eyes meeting Leon's with a mixture of understanding and sorrow. You didn't say a word, but your presence alone offered a glimmer of humanity in this otherwise soulless place.

Leon's sobs became louder, and his body was now jointing. He felt pain, and he was truly scared. He couldn't hold his feelings anymore.

"Please, you have to help me. They... they won't stop. I can't take it anymore." Leon's tears flowed freely now as he looked up at you, his voice choked with pain and desperation.

Gently, you set aside your medical supplies and leaned closer to him, your voice soft and soothing.

"It's going to be okay, Leon," you whispered. "I promise you, I'll find a way to end your suffering. You don't deserve this. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this ends".

"I... I can't do this anymore..." Leon sobs again, not caring with you seeing his tears. He was desperate. "Please..."

You sighed heavily, your heart aching with the sight of him hurt like that. You needed to help him. You needed to do something.

"I'll see what I can do" you whispered, then you wiped the tears from his eyes. "Now, take some rest"

Leon cried until he fell asleep, curled with his blanket. When you saw him like that, you knew you were done with Umbrella and everything they did. Something was forming inside your mind; a plan? An escape route? Where would you take him? How?

You had a lot of questions and, unfortunately, no answers.

Over the next weeks, you started to prepare your escape. You already had your resignation letter written and a safe location to take Leon. You even took a weekend off just to prepare the place to take him. You had medical supplies, clothes, food, and everything you both would need.

It was risky, but you needed to try.

You had secretly collected a stash of supplies over the months, carefully hidden away in the recesses of your country house. You knew the facility's routines and security measures like the back of your hand. You had observed the guards' shifts and the vulnerabilities in their surveillance. You were more than prepared.

This would be the night.

When you went inside his room, he wasn't there. You checked his schedule and saw he was — again — in the experiment room. You had finally reached your breaking point. You couldn't bear to see Leon's suffering continue any longer.

Leon's condition had deteriorated to the point where he could barely move, let alone stand. You knew you had to act swiftly and decisively. You had already obtained a wheelchair, hidden away in a storage closet for weeks, just waiting for the right moment. You walk inside the building, trying to find the right room. Your mind and heart racing with thousand of thoughts.

Until you hear him.

Strapped to a cold metal table, he braced himself for the pain he knew was coming. The first shock hit him like a lightning bolt, searing through his body and causing his muscles to convulse. Leon clenched his teeth, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to endure. The room echoed with his screams, a symphony of suffering that went unheard beyond these walls.

"Stop this experiment now!" You commanded, your voice cutting through the chaos as you burst into the room.

"But... why?" One of the scientists asks, confused.

"I've made a new schedule. He's not going to be tested today" you replied harshly.

The scientists froze, their instruments suspended mid-air. You hurried to Leon's side, releasing him from his restraints with urgency. You spared no time in scooping him up gently, cradling his trembling body in your arms.

"But what are we supposed to do now?" The same scientist asked again, still confused.

"There's another test subject. You can use them" you said, helping Leon stand up.

Saying that, you carried him out of the experiment room, Leon's vision blurred, and he could barely comprehend what was happening. He clung to the sensation of being held, of being rescued from the torment he was passing through.

You took him back to his padded room, laying him down on the bed. You knelt beside him, your expression a mix of sympathy and anger.

"Rest now, Leon," you said softly, brushing his hair away from his tear-stained face. "I won't let them hurt you like this anymore. This will end today, I promise"

Leon tried to mutter something, but he was so tired that his words were beyond comprehension. You went back to your office, just waiting for the perfect time.

You were nervous, and anyone could tell that you were more aggressive than usual, despite the fact that you were always kind to everyone. This plan needed to work, or both of you would definitely die. Your eyes were glued to the watch in your wall, and the time seemed to freeze.

Your heart ached, and you felt anxious.

When the clock finally turned midnight, you knew what you needed to do. Silently, with a heavy heart, you approached Leon's padded room, your pulse quickening with each step. You had prepared a syringe with a sedative, a necessary measure to keep him asleep and prevent him from experiencing any more pain.

Entering the room, you saw Leon lying on the padded bed, his eyes hollow and empty. His frail body was a mere shell of what it had once been, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow for him. You administered the sedative with a gentle touch, whispering soothing words to him as he slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Carefully, you lifted Leon's limp form and gently placed him in the wheelchair. You secured him with the safety straps, ensuring he wouldn't fall during their escape. Then you wheeled him out of the room, moving with purpose through the corridors, your heart heavy with the weight of your escape plan.

As you both approached your car parked discreetly in the shadows, you couldn't help but glance back at the facility you both were leaving behind — a place of horrors, pain, and despair. You had made a difficult choice, one that would change both of your lives forever, but you were determined to keep Leon safe, even if it meant going to great lengths to do so.

With Leon sedated and safely secured in the wheelchair, you carefully loaded him into your car, your eyes never leaving his peaceful, albeit frail form.

"I've got you" you whispered, covering his weak body with a blanket and then closing the door.

The night was a tapestry of stars above as you drove, your eyes fixed on the darkened road ahead. Hours stretched on, the miles slipping away beneath the tires of your car. In the back seat, Leon lay motionless, a fragile figure in the interior, protected by the cozy blanket and the warm air.

Every so often, you stole a glance at the rearview mirror, your worry etched on your face. You constantly checked on him to make sure he was still asleep and unharmed. His breathing was steady, a reassuring rhythm amidst the uncertainty of your journey.

The countryside passed by in a blur of shadowy trees and moonlit fields. You kept driving, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing as the miles between you two and the lab grew. You couldn't help but think about the risk you had taken, the consequences if you were caught, but the determined look in Leon's eyes when he had awakened for a brief moment had given you the strength to carry on.

Finally, you two arrived at your country house, a remote sanctuary nestled far from prying eyes. You parked the car in the driveway and carefully opened the back door. Leon remained peacefully asleep, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.

Gently, she took him from the car to the wheelchair, your arms trembling with the weight of his frail form. You took him into the cozy house, the scent of pine and wood welcoming them. You placed him in a comfortable bed, covering him with a warm blanket.

You watched over him for a while, relief washing over you as you saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. You knew this new journey was far from over, that you both had many challenges ahead, but in this moment, under the soft moonlight that filtered through the curtains, Leon was safe.

As exhaustion finally caught up with you, you settled into a chair in the room, your eyes never leaving Leon's slumbering figure. You were determined to protect him, to give him a chance at a life free from the horrors of the lab.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of the country house, casting a gentle glow on the room. Leon began to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. Confusion washed over him as he realized he was no longer in the familiar confines of the lab.

Panic welled up within him, and he tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and weak. As he struggled, tears welled up in his eyes, and he cried out in despair.

You had been dozing in a nearby chair, tired that you fell asleep quickly, then you awoke with a start. You rushed to Leon's side, your voice filled with soothing reassurance.

"Leon, it's alright. You're safe now. You're not in the lab anymore." You tell him, your voice calm and kind.

"I... I can't believe it," he stammered, his voice trembling. "Is this real?" Leon's breaths came in ragged sobs as he looked at you, his eyes searching for the truth in your words.

You nodded, your eyes filled with empathy.

"Yes, it's real," you whispered. "You're free now, Leon. No more experiments, no more pain."

Tears streamed down Leon's cheeks as he absorbed the reality of his situation. He had spent so long in that nightmarish place that the idea of escape had seemed impossible. But here, in this tranquil room, with you by his side, hope blossomed within him. You reached out and gently brushed the tears from his face.

"It's okay to cry, Leon," you said softly. "You've been through so much. But now, we're going to build a new life together, away from the lab."

As Leon's sobs gradually subsided, he clung to your words, the promise of a brighter future. In your compassionate presence, he began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he could leave the horrors of the lab behind and find a life filled with warmth and kindness.

Leon finally felt the sun touching his skin. Finally, he was allowed to see the sunrise and to see the world again.

He was free.

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