#yes from the mental hospital episode

[gayalanwake]

have NOT been able to draw recently

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eighteen

authors note: this one gets pretty heavy and violent at points. please read the cw/tw's carefully in order to make the best informed decision regarding your mental ability to handle such heavy topics.

cw/tw: angst, violence, torture (gore), (light) fluff, ptsd episode, character being triggered, and references to childhood sexual assault

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist + story playlist

words: 10k

Solana knows Roman well.

She knew to start off the letter the way she did, asking for him to be open minded, because she knew exactly what his answer would be. 

No.

It’s the same answer he still has even after her logical explanation. It’s a selfish thing. He’s a selfish bastard at heart because despite her being vulnerable about her mental state and making a solid point, he still wants and plans to say no. 

Still plans come and take her home in a week.

And while he has his reasoning, believing that she can continue her healing outside of some mental facility, it’s also for his own good. He just wants her home. He wants to not have the house be so quiet and empty. To not have to be reminded of her absence in everything from the lack of the aroma of her delicious cooking to Dulce yelping and whimpering whenever he walks in the door home from work without Solana beside him.

He just misses her, and he wants her home. 

He understands where she’s coming from and agrees she could benefit from continuing to talk to someone, to definitely stay on medication. 

But, those things can continue without her being away from home.

There’s also the matter of safety. Yes, Roman went above and beyond what was probably necessary to ensure she has a copious amount of protection, but that’s still not as safe as her being with him.

And he’s almost certain that the facility she’s talking about is the same one Stratus mentioned to him. The place that’s an hour away.

That’s too fucking far.

From their home, Roman can make it to the hospital in ten minutes, if need be. 

Solana being an hour away from him just isn’t a fucking option.

He needs her…..she needs to be close to him.

He’ll just have to help her understand that. 

But, all of that is easy. 

What’s not easy is the other major takeaway from her letter.

I love you, Ro.

In all of his thinking, perhaps overthinking, regarding his thoughts and feelings about his wife, never did it really occur to him that she could feel the same. He knew she cared about him. She’s said as such to him before. But, for whatever reason, he never allowed himself to imagine that she could love him.

And that she could love him without expecting anything in return. Because she believes him incapable of loving her because of his own trauma, and that’s not entirely wrong. 

He does love her.

Fuck, he loves the living shit out of her.

But, he can’t act on it.

Even with this unexpected twist. Her loving him, which fucks with his head too. The why of it. 

There’s not a lot to love, if he’s being honest.

He protects her. Keeps her safe. Gives her that safe space. Beyond that, there’s not really anything else. 

Her standards must be so low. 

Regardless, Roman can’t allow this new piece of information to change or impact his decision.

He can’t openly reciprocate her feelings.

Even….even if he sure as hell feels the same. It’s too risky. Too dangerous. 

He just can’t.

Roman may love her, but he can never tell her he loves her.

It just has to be this way.

________

Ryan Alexander

Tyler Hawkins

Two men whose lives have been intertwined in various ways in the almost 60 years they’ve walked this earth. It started with a meeting in college, both men playing for the same baseball team, having a few of the same classes together, even pledging to the same fraternity. 

They would end up in the same graduating class and go on to open up their own private security company that offered protective services for upscale clientele. Celebrities, athletes, even politicians.

But…..for the right amount of money, they could do more than just protect lives.

They could take them too. 

The company easily and quickly made its name  known through the right or maybe wrong places. Information falling in the lap of parties who were less interested in safety and more interested in murder.

It’s how Xavier Miller got in touch with them. How Solana’s father hired them to take out his wife and daughter after learning of her plan to run away and steal his children away from him, more his son than anything. He really didn’t give a shit about Solana.

Never did. 

It was why when the hit failed to take out both Nina and Solana, Xavier was able to negotiate so that instead of paying the remaining debt due after the deposit. He got them to agree to slash it in half, leaving him owing 250k. The problem was as it always has been though. Xavier lacks vision, lacks long-term vision. He didn’t think about how finances could change for the negative between the time he made the deal and when payment would be due.

Because when that day arrived, he lacked the sufficient funds. But while Xavier may lack good financial and investment knowledge, he makes up for it in craftiness. 

He formed a new deal. One that truly gave all three men a win-win. Xavier’s debt would be cleared, and Ryan and Alexander would be able to enjoy indulging in one of their favorite sexual pastimes. A privilege they can usually only pursue when traveling overseas where child sex slavery runs a lot more rampant and unregulated. 

By luck though, they got their fill domestically in the form of an innocent, 12 year-old little girl. 

A virgin. 

Xavier’s daughter.

Solana Miller

Now known as Solana Reigns, the wife of the infamous Roman Reigns. The same man who Ryan and Tyler have no idea has been behind the absolute hell they’ve been through in the past almost two weeks. Kidnapped in the middle of the night, subjected to an unauthorized but ultimately approved (by Roman) beating by Jimmy and Jey before they were reunited with Xavier’s ain’t shit ass who had also received a long overdue beating from both Roman and the twins.

That beating, however, was nothing compared to the beginning stages of their demise, a version and level of hell only few experience, but something these fuckers have front seats for. 

Roman is methodical with his torture, and this might be the most determined he’s ever been to maximize pain. 

He’s going to ensure they only take their last breath when he feels it’s time, when he’s exhausted any and all ways to extend their life in order to extend their suffering.

And while many would think it started with the beatings, that’s far too simple, too easy. And Roman is neither of those things. He’s calculated and borderline sadistic when the occasion calls for it, and there’s not been a more deserving occasion for him to act on his dark, evil impulses than this. 

So, it was only fitting that all three men, the rapists and the son of a bitch who organized it all, know exactly what it’s like to experience what they put Solana through. 

And that’s exactly what Roman organized. Having all three men dumped and left defenseless in a maximum security prison. Whatever happened, fucking happened. 

And judging by the battered, stunned, borderline traumatized expressions on their cut, brusied faces, exactly what Roman wanted them to experience is precisely what they fucking got. 

For almost two weeks straight.

Jimmy and Jey toss the three men down on the ground before Roman before moving to stand behind him on either side. 

“Ya’ll like fucking little girls, don’t you?” Jimmy sneers, Roman not even needing to look at his cousin to know he’s livid. “So what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”

“Don’t like it when your assess the ones on the receiving end, huh?” Jey taunts. Fitting. 

But, now…..now it’s time for the real pain to begin. Roman lifts his hand to signify his desire from silence. The twins go quiet almost immediately. 

The Tribal Chief turns up his nose as Ryan spits up blood onto the concrete floor. Granted, it won’t make much of a difference. When Roman is done with them, the room will be bathed red. 

He steps forward. 

“August 7th, 2005 and September 8th, 2007.” Roman shrugs and asks the men, “what’s significant about these dates?” When he doesn’t receive an answer, he takes his gun and aims it for Tyler, emptying the bullet into his knee. The man howls in pain and begins to cry. Roman scowls. Pathetic bitch. “I aksed a fucking question.” 

He gaps,, forcing out through closed eyes. “I–I don’t know.” 

Roman crouches down in front of them, ignoring the stench of piss and perspiration emanating off their pathetic bodies. “August 7th, 2005. A mother and daughter were attacked. Stabbed. Mother died trying to protect her daughter. Daughter survived. She was ten-years-old.” Roman looks away at the adjacent wall, jaw clenching a bit as he recalls the next part. “”September 8th, 2007. Two men break into the house and spend hours gang raping a child in her own fucking bedroom before beating her half to death and leaving her for dead.” Dead fucking silence. “She was 12-years-old.” He turns his empty, stoic gaze back onto them. “Sound fucking familiar now?” 

“You carried out the rape,” he gestures to the set of crying rapists and then a numb looking Xavier. “And you arranged it.” Roman shrugs, rolling his big shoulders. “Seemed only fucking fair you three got a taste of what you put her through.” He then chuckles. “Now, I am a fair man. A fair Tribal Chief.” In a matter of seconds though, his disposition completely shifts, changes into something cold, heartless. “But, you don’t get that. You don’t get that fairness. You don’t fucking deserve it. You tortured her. You made her life a living fucking hell.” 

“But you know where you really fucked up?” He reaches his arm out, pointing toward the sledgehammer, one of the twins placing it in his hand. Roman stands up and kicks Tyler backwards, hesitating not a second as he brings it down to his knees, one by one, effectively and immediately shattering both. “You did it to my wife.” Roman taunts over the sound of the man crying. He then moves to Ryan, aware of the knee he already shot, sticking with one to avoid too much blood. Can’t have the bitch bleeding out just yet. “That twelve year-old girl was my wife.” When he gets to Xaveir, he exerts a special amount of energy to strengthen the impact of his blow as he demolishes the older man’s knees. “That ten year old-girl was my wife!” 

Roman tosses the sledgehammer to the side as someone has the audacity to utter out a pained, “p–please.” 

That infuriates Roman more than what should be humanly possible. “Please?” He sees the word came from Tyler. Snarling, Roman jumps over the man, raining a blow so heavy that it breaks his nose, the sickening crack sounding through the air. “Is that what she said when you fucking held her down and raped her!” 

The thought alone results in Roman continuing to punch the man until his fist is painted red and Tyler is clearly on the verge of losing consciousness. 

Standing back up, he huffs, speaking to the rapists, “17 years. She’s suffered for seventeen years because of you.” He points to a barely there Xavier. “And 29 years because of you.” Roman’s  upper lip curls a bit as he swears, “if I could torture you all for that long, I fucking would, but I can’t, so days will have to suffice.”

He’s filled with another level of rage when the cries and pleads for mercy intensify. “Shut up!” He then forcefully demands of the twins, “bring him in!”

Jey, he thinks, disappears for a few minutes only to return with an also bruised, battered Wes. Roman scoffs with disgust as Xavier looks horrified at the presence and sight of his son.

He coughs out, ribs probably broken or at least fractured. And if they’re not, Roman will make sure they are before the end of the night. “Pl—please don’t do—”

Roman has heard enough. This piece of shit has the fucking audacity to beg and plead for the life of his son but couldn’t even protect his own fucking daughter?

Fuck that.

Fury fills and controls the Head of the Table as he yanks up a barely conscious Wes and throws him against the brick wall, the impact loud enough for the sound of his shoulder popping to fill the room. Roman then grabs the sledgehammer again and rains it down on not only his knees but his hands as well, effectively smashing them, resulting in grotesque hairline fracture, bones protruding from his skin.. 

Xavier cries out and begs Roman to stop, which only fuels his tirade even more. Drives him to continue his brutal assault. Roman slams his fist onto Wes’s face, breaking his jaw before Roman squeezes the fucking life out of Wes’s neck and slams him again against that same brick wall. 

And without second thought, as Wes fights to remain conscious, face almost unrecognizable at this point, Roman reaches for his eye, using his middle and index finger to gouge out his eyeballs one by one, ignoring the horrified screams of both father and son. 

Xavier is full on sobbing but practically screams when Wes body drops to the ground like a ragdoll, and Roman tosses the bloody eyeballs toward Xavier. 

“Waterboard him!” Roman directs to the twins who don’t hesitate to drag a crying Wes out of the room by his limp arm, most likely broken in the midst of Roman’s vicious beating. Breathing uneven, Roman flips his hair back that had come out of his bun and turns his attention back on the three older men. 

“I’m going to make you all suffer the same fucking way you made her suffer,” he vows, every intention on maximixing pain in a way he’s never done before. “You’ll be wishing for something as fucking nice as hell when I’m done with you.”

________

Roman has just finished skinning a patch out of Ryan’s abdomen, the chunk of skin joining that of Tyler and Xavier’s slab of skin and other dismembered body parts. 

Wes is up next on the list.

The fucker strapped to the chair has gone unconscious, but his pulse is still relatively strong, so Roman continues. He’s done this too many times to be deterred by someone tapping out.

Tossing the bloodied knife and saw to the side of the room with the rest of the blood stained tools of torture, he grabs the drill and starts to navigate which drill bit to use when the door opens.

Right away, he’s tempted to use the object in hand on whoever was stupid enough to interrupt him.

Roman turns to see none other than his aggravating ass cousin holding a phone. Of course. Attention back to the task at hand, he bites out, “I told you not to fucking bother me. Whoever it is, I’m busy.”

Jey is about as moved by Roman’s tone as he is by the bloody, gory scene before him. Indifferent but still eager to leave, he instead provides the additional information that he knows will absolutely snatch Roman’s attention.

“It’s Bautista.” Sure enough, Jey can see his cousin’s big shoulders go still. “He—”

Roman stands up, tossing the drill to the side and quickly removing the gloves that are caked in blood, skin, and other anatomical matter. He stalks toward Jey, issuing his harsh demand,“give me the phone.”

Jey does as such, sucking his teeth when some of the blood flicks on him. “Man, that’s nasty as hell.”

Roman doesn’t comment, just walks out the room for privacy and demands to the man on the other end, “what happened?”

Bautista doesn’t hesitate and is quick with an easy response. “She wants to talk to you, sir.”

There’s only a slight decrease in concern levels that Roman experiences in hearing that Solana wants to speak to him versus Bautista having to inform him that something has happened. She’s conscious. That’s good. “Put her on.”

Bautista doesn’t say anything, but Roman hears what sounds like slight movement and hushed voices. It’s followed up with a quiet sniffle and even quieter, “hey….” Another sniffle as her volume increases ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, it’s—it’s so late.”

Roman has no idea what time it is nor does he care what time it is. He just wants to know why she’s crying and who he has to kill. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She takes a shaky breath and follows it up with an even shakier answer, weighed down with the heavy emotions she’s clearly struggling with at this moment. “We—we—we talked about my…my rape in therapy today, and I’ve never—I’ve never actually spoken about it to anyone, and I thought—I thought I was fine, but now…..”

His chest suddenly tightens. “Are you thinking about—”

“No.” Her answer is the firmest he’s heard in the conversation so far. Serious and solid. “Not that. I just—I can’t sleep because now I’m thinking about….about it, and I just….I wanted to hear your voice, and I’m sorry—you were probably asleep.”

No. No, he wasn’t. Far from it. And even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.

She comes first. 

No matter what.

“I’m gonna come see you.”

“No.” The sniffling resumes as does her tendency to try to make herself as less of a ‘problem’ as she can, no matter how many times Roman tries to explain she never has and never will be anything of the sort. “I’ll–I’ll be okay.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, he’s not taking the risk because Roman cannot physically handle hearing her crying, hearing her so upset and not be able to do anything about it.

“I’m coming, Solana. Give me a half hour, okay?” He’d head there straight away right now, but the idea of coming to her after spending house torturing men, blood, bone, and other unidentifiable matter splattered all over him, is the last thing she needs. “I’ll be there.”

There’s another delay, and he’d bet any money it’s her trying to hold back the tears as best she can. “Oh–kay.”

He swallows, asking, “can you put Bautista back on the phone?”

Again, more shifting on the other end. “Hello?”

“Don’t take your fucking eyes off her.” Roman’s tone is hardened and leveled. “I’ll be there shortly.” He doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t need to provide instructions on how to make sure his wife is kept safe.

Bautista already knows what the fucking deal is.

Roman can’t get cleaned and showered fast enough, ridding his body of all of the telltale signs that he’d spent the majority of the day torturing his wife’s family and rapists. She doesn’t need to know that. 

He’s impatient for the drive that feels much longer than the twenty minutes it actually is. A large part of that being that he just wants to get to Solana. 

She’d called him. She’d reached out to him.

The same thing he wishes she had done that night. Something he still feels strangely about but will learn to sort through later. Not now. 

Now his focus is on just making sure she’s alright.

That she’s safe.

Roman walks in with purpose, uninterested in Bautista’s short briefing, which is essentially more or less him just confirming that Solana hasn’t been left alone, another guard watching her as Bautista escorted Roman into the premises that’s otherwise locked down given it’s almost midnight.

Not that he gives a fuck.

Roman finds Solana sitting on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest. But, the minute her teary eyes land on him, she’s moving up from said bed, rushing over to him. Naturally, Roman catches her, holding her as she silently cries into his chest.

He’s gonna rip that fucking therapist a new one. 

“I’m sorry—” Roman hates hearing her apologize. He hates seeing her upset, but the fact that she’s apologizing for feeling the way she does is a different layer of irritation. It reminds him of how she used to be. Makes him realize just how much and deep this regression has been. “I just—I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He’s just about to once again remind her that she has nothing to be sorry about when her last statement snatches his attention. Alarms him a bit. “Solana….I need you to be honest with me—”

And she must know where he’s headed, because she pulls back, holding his gaze as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to hurt myself. I promise. I just….I just don’t want to be by myself.” 

It makes sense, and he believes her. Somewhat. There’s still that part of him that’s skeptical. He’s not sure if that part will ever go away either.

Solana swallows and licks her lips, asking in that tentative voice, “will—will you stay with me tonight?”

It’s an easy answer. Something he already decided the minute he heard her crying on the other end of the phone.

“Yes.” She looks so massively relieved by that one word. “But not here.” And before the confusion fully sets in, he clarifies, “I’m taking you home.”

As expected, she looks surprised and torn, “Roman, I—”

“You get released in three days, Sol. I’ll bring you back tomorrow afternoon, but tonight, you need to be home. You don’t need to be here.” Roman isn’t a fucking professional, but he knows his wife. Knows that what she’s looking for is the feeling of security. There’s no more secure place than with him in their home. And even with Dulce.

Solana seems to be on the same page, nodding and offering no further protest. “Oh–okay.”

As she’s barely allowed any personal items, it takes less than twenty minutes for her to be ready to go, Roman directing Bautista to handle any issues that arise regarding her departure.

Roman is sure Stratus or even Gail will have issues with his decision. He’s also 100% sure that he doesn’t give a flying fuck. 

Solana needs to get away. 

She needs to be home.

She needs to be with him. 

And, he’s proven correct, because the minute she walks into the house, she’s looking over at Roman, asking, “where is she?”

“Our room.”

Solana can’t seem to move up the stairs fast enough, Roman behind her, partially eager to see this long awaited reunion. He’s not sure who will be happier: Solana or her puppy. 

It’s about a tie though, because the minute Solana moves over to the side of the bed where Dulce is sleeping and gets on her knees, carefully petting the puppy, Dulce’s head snaps up.

And instantly, she jumps at Solana. 

They’re both crying, Solana holding onto Dulce who is a mixture of whimpers, licks, and that tail of hers excitedly wagging. 

Solana says something in her to Spanish, something Roman can’t make out, but he doesn’t need to make it out. It’s obviously something moving. 

Something healing almost. 

Solana looks up at him, laughing and crying as Dulce tries to lick her face. Her voice cracks a bit as she says to him, “thank you.” 

Roman nods, that same, warm, unfamiliar emotion building up. Fucking feelings.

Nodding, he says nothing, watching as she continues to hold onto and cuddle with Dulce. 

Yeah…..

Definitely the right decision.

________

Roman lifts his eyes from the phone that he just put on Do Not Disturb to set his gaze on Solana. Out of the shower, she’s wearing only one of his shirts. Nothing else. He can tell by the way the cotton almost outlines her nipples. 

Placing the phone to the side, he’s slightly taken back when she moves onto his lap. “I—” Her eyes drop downward, her hands grasping at his shirt. “I need a distraction.” He’s confused, but it’s only temporary as she trails off with the specific distraction she’s looking for. “Can we….”

He doesn’t need to hear more. Roman understands just what she’s asking for.

And his answer is simple.

“Solana, I don’t think…..” He has to phrase it correctly, word it so that it doesn’t sound like he is rejecting her. He is, but it can’t come across as just that. “You’re not—”

“I feel dirty,” she interrupts, eyes closing, mouth moving around as she does her best to balance emotion with verbalization. “I—I don’t want to feel that. I want—I want to feel you. I only ever want to feel you.” Solana opens her eyes, pleading almost. “Please.”

Something is telling him to tell her no, to find a way to decline without hurting her feelings or making her feel rejected, because that’s the last thing he wants. 

But, it feels almost impossible. She’s upset. He doesn’t want her to feel the way she’s feeling, and if she believes being intimate tonight will help her, then he’ll give her that. 

Roman nods and gently taps her hip, partially surprised when she moves off his lap, taking his hand as she lays back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. 

Roman’s lips hover over hers as she breathes, “I just want to feel you.”

It’s taking a painful amount of self-control on Roman’s part to refrain from taking here right here and now. Because while he’s mentally conflicted, there’s no denying the hardness that’s growing in his pants by the minute as she lifts her thigh and grazes it against his hip. There’s no properly explaining how much he’s missed this.

He kisses her, tentatively almost, letting her take the lead as she moves her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Roman’s hand goes to palm her breast through her shirt which makes her breathe against his mouth.

He shuts his eyes for a minute. He’d almost forgotten the sweet sounds she makes, fodder for his growing desire. He moves his mouth to her neck, sucking on the spot he’s learned makes her writhe under him, her nails scraping down his taut back. 

And then, the shift.

Roman feels it only seconds before she acts on it, the way she starts to tense underneath him, the growing unsteady pattern of her breathing, the fear. But before he can pull away, she’s pushing him away, letting out a ‘no’ that comes from a different place, a different time. It comes from her trauma.

Her push is strong, but it’s not enough to get him completely off of her. Roman does that much all on his own, watching as she sits up in the bed and covers her face.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes into her hands. “I—I’m sorry.” Her shoulders tremble as the apologies melt into the bleeding of emotions she tried to mask away with intimacy. “I’m sorry—” Solana falling into a full out crying session, the third or fourth time she’s done as much tonight, is more than enough for Roman to motion her over to him.

“Come here.” 

He’s at least grateful she lets him pull her onto his chest, letting her cry on him as he lays them back in the bed, his protective arms around her. For a second, he berates himself for taking her from the hospital. If they were still there, he’d wake up whoever the fuck he needed to wake up to give her that medicine she was prescribed for moments like this.

Moments where she just needs more.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, crying subdued a bit. But Roman is unsure what he dislikes more: the fact that she’s so upset or the fact that she thinks she needs to apologize for being so upset.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” is all he says. His hand is on the small of her back, moving in comforting circles. “Nothing at all, okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, just continues to cry into him, Roman wishing he could do more to settle her. It kills him to see her so upset. 

A few minutes later, her tears having almost entirely subsided, she murmurs, “I’m sorry we couldn’t….”

He takes a deep breath, willing his voice to remain calm. “Solana, I told you before I don’t need that from you—”

“But, I wanted to. I just…..”

“It’s okay.” He cuts her off, kissing the top of her head. “I never expected that from you tonight anyway.”

He already knew she wasn’t in the mental space for it, but he didn’t want her to feel rejected either, so he went along with it. There’s a bit of regret, maybe more than a bit, but Roman also knows he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Still is. 

“Rest.” He instructs, grateful when she simply nods against him, tucking herself closer into his body. And he watches her closely and intently, an infinite amount of pleasure rising within him when he feels the steady rise and fall of her body, confirmation that she’s finally drifted off into sleep.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep with her. He would actually prefer to stay up and watch her, but the weight of the day, mentally and physically, takes its unavoidable toll. And not too long after she succumbs to sleep, he does the same.

________

“Daddy.”

Roman’s eyes shoot open at the both familiar and unfamiliar voice. Looking down, he sees Solana sleeping peacefully on top of him, her hand atop his chest. But to his right, he finds sad eyes, tear stained cheeks, and a deep frown. 

Naturally, he frowns a bit as well. He hates seeing any of this family upset. “Bad dream?” 

She nods, holding onto the teddy bear in her arms. He’d gotten it for her a couple years back while he was away on business, and it’s become her comfort animal ever since. 

Roman is careful in prying Solana’s arm off him, grateful when the extent of her stirring is simply her turning over on the other side. Over the years, she’s gotten better with not being as easily disturbed or woken up.

And he’s especially thankful for that in this moment.

Moving the blankets down and off, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and rolls his shoulders. She shifts the bear in her arm to one side and reaches up for him to pick her up. “Come here.” Roman does as such, pulling her up as he stands from the bed. 

She lays her head on his shoulder while  he quietly walks them out the room, cracking the door behind him. Roman takes her downstairs into the living room and hits the lamp on the side table before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. 

Sitting down, she adjusts herself in his lap, holding onto her stuffy while he loads up the animated show with the creepy blue looking thing that kids apparently love, his included. 

Especially the twin on his lap. It’s like her comfort show.

“You wanna pick the episode?” It’s a preference. 

She nods and accepts the remote from him, selecting the same episode she’s watched the last 10+ times this has occurred. She almost always starts with this same episode, like she has to or else she can’t watch it.

A repeat and increasing thing, he’s noticing. 

As the opening credits roll around, Roman gently rubs her back, asking, “you wanna talk about it?”

She keeps her focus on the TV while shaking her head no. An expected answer given the fact that she never really likes to talk in general, but as Roman thinks about the increase in how often this is happening, he’s starting to wonder if it’s past the point where she gets a choice in the matter.

For the past few months, every so often, or more often now, he’ll be awoken in the middle of the night by his youngest daughter. Upset and clearly crying, she’ll ask him to sit with her, to stay with her until she falls asleep again. Though at some point, the addition of letting her watch an episode or two of her show seemed to aid in not only calming her down but eventually lulling her back to sleep.

And every time Roman tries to get out of her just what these bad dreams are, she remains quiet, forcing him to wreck his brain over what could be bothering her so much.

The unknown of it all is starting to mess with him.

He can’t help her if he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Sissy?”

Both Roman and the daughter on his lap look over to see her twin rubbing her sleeping eyes as she walks over and climbs onto the sofa, the two adjusting so they’re both seated on top of him. “Did you have the bad dreams again?”

At that, Roman’s brow furrows. Did she talk about them with her sister?

He asks as such. 

“Do you know what they’re about?” Roman and Solana suspected that she’d confided in her sister, her true confidant, but they also didn’t want to risk putting a rift between the sisters by making one feel like she has to ‘snitch’ on the other.

However, an unspoken communication of some sort is exchanged between the twins. The quieter of the two reluctantly nodding as the outspoken one shares, “sissy has bad thoughts…..”

Roman takes the remote and turns down the volume versus pausing as he notices she’s still trying to watch. To some extent. And it’s clearly helping to calm her, so he won’t deprive her of that. But, he does have to ask, “what kind of bad thoughts?”

That could be and mean so many things. And if the situation was different, he wouldn’t be too concerned. The level and standard for ‘bad’ that he has compared to his kids is vastly different. But given how upset his daughter has been getting, there’s gotta be something more severe to the ‘bad’ this time. 

His twin, in more than just looks and demeanor, seems to hesitate for a second, Roman ready to encourage her that it’s okay to be honest with him. He needs that honesty at this point. “She—she has scary thoughts about something happening to you and mama. And—and bad dreams that something’s gonna happen to you when you go on your trips.”

Roman does his best to hide his surprise. And his concern. He wasn’t expecting that. Turning to the youngest of the two, he asks, “is that true?”

She looks down, tightening her hold on her bear as she nods slowly.

Roman closes his eyes and takes a second to gather himself. Comfort now. Process later. It’s become a bit of a routine for him.

Needing both of their attention, he takes the remote again to hit pause. 

“Girls….” Roman has to remind himself to keep it simple and at a level they can understand. “I’m never going to let anything happen to your mom. Or to you. Or to your brother. And nothing is especially going to happen to me.” Seeing the emotion especially present in his youngest, he kisses her temple. “I’m always going to come back home to you guys, okay?”

And that’s a promise.

Come hell or high water, nothing could separate him from his family. 

Especially his kids. 

“Told you, sissy.” She then smiles a little, adding on with a toothy grin. “Daddy’s like a superhero.”

Roman chuckles. Far from it. But whatever helps them. 

Taking over the duty of being the parent, showing that while she has many of her father’s interests and some of his temperament, she also has her mother’s caring nature, she asks, reaching for her little sister’s hand. “Wanna try to go back to sleep? You can sleep in my bed.”

The offer to not have to sleep alone as well as having some one on one time with him seems to be enough to be enough to coax her back  to bed. He watches as the girls climb off his lap, the oldest taking the youngest hand, as she also handles the parting words, “goodnight, daddy.”

He offers a small smile. Their bond is something special. “Night, girls.” Hands still locked, they walk away, heading back up the stairs. “Love you.” He calls out after them. 

An almost synchronized response is what he’s met with. “Love you too, daddy.” 

It brings that warmth back to him, Roman blowing out a deep breath when it’s just him and the paused screen on the TV. He takes a couple minutes to sit on the weight of the conversation. 

He doesn’t like knowing that his daughter is struggling with thoughts. Hates that they haunt her in the form of dreams. He knows better than anyone how difficult that can be. How exhausting.

So does Solana.

Thoughts of his wife and wanting to get back to her before she notices his absence and wakes up, Roman shuts off the TV and starts heading upstairs.

Walking back into their bedroom, he’s only partially surprised to find Solana awake, sitting up against the headboard, their son on her chest for one of his nightly feedings. 

She gives him a sad, knowing smile. “Another bad dream?” 

Roman nods and goes to sit back in the bed next to her. “Found out what they’re about.”

Solana’s eyes widen a bit. “She told you?”

He shakes his head. “The other one did.” He frowns a bit, sharing, “she’s having thoughts and dreams of something happening to us. Me especially.” 

Solana’s frown is deep and concerned. Valid. “What? Where—Where did that come from?”

“Don’t know.” Roman answers. He’d have loved to been able to ask more questions, but it’s also the middle of the night and just getting some kind of answer is a huge win in and of itself. “But, I wanna schedule an appointment with her pediatrician. If something else is going on with her, we need to know.”

Roman has an idea of what it could be, now starting to put different pieces together. Her particular way of doing things, rituals of sorts, thoughts she can’t control. But, he wants to be sure.

“Of course,” Solana agrees. “I’ll call in the morning.”

Good. 

Roman chuckles after looking over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:59am. He glances at Solana, “and you really wanna do this all over again?”

He’s still partially stuck on the fact that even with three kids, Solana is still wanting more. 

The thought alone brings out a heavy sigh just from tonight’s events.

All three of their kids up and in need of something in the middle of the night like he and his wife don’t have work in the morning.

He can’t even really picture an additional child—or two–added into the mix. 

Solana, however, only smiles, rocking gently to help soothe their son. “Only with you, papi.” A beat. “Only with you.”

________

“No!”

Roman is awakened by movement and volume. Both of which effectively deter and distract him from yet another strange dream, a fantasy of some sort.

Or…..something more. 

Regardless, he has neither the time nor energy—nor desire—to think about that. Not with the woman violently stirring beside him. A nightmare. It’s obvious Solana is in the middle of a nightmare.

“No….” Twisting against the mattress, Roman sees the light sheen of sweat on her forehead. He frowns. How long has she been in the middle of this nightmare? “Get off me….”

At that, he stills a bit. With Solana’s extensive trauma, it’s pretty impossible to know just what specific traumatizing incident haunts her dreams and interrupts her sleep. But this….this one is pretty obvious. 

And it guts him.

He moves his hands to her shoulders. “Baby, wake up.”

She starts crying, and Roman isn’t quite sure how much worse and useless he can feel. “No. Please—please. You’re hurting me.”

There’s a heaviness in his chest as Roman deepens his voice and shakes her a little harder. “Solana, wake up.”

It seems the more he says it, the more she writhes and cries, trapped in the throes of trauma. Roman doesn’t want to be physical with her, doesn’t want to exacerbate an already difficult situation, but he can’t just sit here and watch her suffer. 

He moves his hands to her arms, restricting her just enough, raising his volume yet again. “Solana, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.” He’s not entirely certain if it’s his escalation or just the natural progression, but she shoots up, eyes opening for the briefest second before slamming shut. 

And then, the climax.

Roman is taken back when she starts pushing and shoving him, but that surprise is easily weighed down with sympathy when she starts talking again. 

“Get off of me!” She cries, never once letting up on him.

He takes it all, her fists really of no consequence to him as he continues to try to break her from this torment. “Solana, please—”

“No!” She’s the one with the increased volume, Roman biting back a hiss as a sharp almost burning pain throbs in his shoulder, the area where he was shot. But, it’s irrelevant. His focus is on Solana and nothing else. 

“Baby, it’s me.” He’s no longer restraining her, letting her let it out on him as much as she needs to. Whatever she needs in this moment, he’ll give it to her. He’s not sure what else to do besides that, to be honest.

But, it’s when Roman manages to cup her face, again, repeating the hopefully calming, settling words, “it’s me” that seems to help break through to her. Blinking, wet eyes open, filled with fear. He studies her, watching her focus on him, as the fear starts to diminish. Replaced with recognition. “R–Roman?”

He nods, his own concern settling seeing her anxiety lessen. “Yes. It’s just me.”

She releases a shaky, emotional breath, clearly coming to grips with what just occurred. But, her gaze settling on his shoulder seems to bring back that previous level of horror. “Oh my god, I—I hurt you.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He looks down, realizing she must have ripped his stitches when she was hitting him, blood trickling down his skin. Roman is entirely unbothered. “Solana, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t seem to be hearing him, too focused on the unintentional thing she caused. “I hurt you…..” 

He lowers her hands from her face, kissing her inner palms. “Baby, it’s fine.” 

“I–I’m sorry. I–She closes her eyes, taking deep breaths, asking him in an unexpected calmer voice. “I—I need to stitch it back up for you.”

Roman shakes his head. “I can do th—”

But, she cuts him off, sounding a little bit more stable and a lot more desperate. “Roman, please?” 

Not wanting to risk upsetting her again, he shakes his head, allowing her to take the lead as she grabs his hand and guides him into their bathroom. Roman sits on the toilet and watches her silently move around, gathering the medical kit and other needed supplies. 

His eyes don’t leave her as she works carefully and tediously to stitch him back up, Roman partially thankful her focus is on something else versus the horrific memories that seemed to have been tormenting her the past couple hours. 

He wants to say something, do something to help her feel better, to especially rip away the guilt evident in her eyes at ‘hurting’ him.

Solana may be the only person on this earth capable of doing as such, but it could never be physically. 

Ever.

“I’m not crazy. I—I promise.” Her voice is shaky, unsteady by understandable emotion as she finishes up, starting to put the supplies back. “I just—I don’t know—”

Roman takes her hands in his. “Sol, I know you’re not crazy.” Feeling an unfamiliar sense of openness and vulnerability, he asks her, “do you know why I was able to help you with your panic attack that night?” Her eyes are lit with confusion as she shakes her head no. Roman’s jaw clenches. He’s never once told a soul what he’s about to share with her. “It’s because I used to have them.” 

Her reaction is exactly what he would expect from anyone to hear such words coming from him. 

“Wh—what?” 

Roman’s eyes divert to the wall beside her as he powers through the discomfort. “It was….it was after my family was killed. I’d have nightmares about it and wake up freaking the fuck out.” Just like her. “That’s when they’d happen.”

“But, I couldn’t tell anyone, because they were already questioning if I would be fit to lead.” He scoffs, “I had to be perfect. I couldn’t let anyone know how fucked up I really was from what happened.” 

He can only imagine that the softness in her voice matches the expression on her face. “Roman….” 

“But, I couldn’t keep dealing with the shit either, so I found this book at my school’s library about mental health and whatnot, and it had a section on panic attacks and how to cope with them. So, I studied and learned them. It’s been fine since then. Haven’t had one in years.” Though that similar budding feeling of panic that used to be present before they’d occur is something Roman’s noticed having versions of for almost the past two weeks.

Since he found out Solana tried to kill herself. 

She lifts her hand to his face, and he closes his eyes. He can feel it. Can sense it. Her sympathy or maybe something different. Maybe empathy. Regardless, he doesn’t want or need it. The point was to not bring attention to his fucked up past but rather help her reduce some of her self-judgment. 

He stands up, forcing her hand to fall down as he instead cups her face, looking and speaking directly at her. “You’re not crazy.” Far from it. And he needs her to know that. “You just….you need help.” His voice shifts into something softer. “And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

Her gaze also shifts. Something both hopeful and sad. “I–I can go?”

Roman only hesitates for a second. “Yes.” 

The answer he gives her is in no way indicative of how he feels about it. He still hates it. Hates the idea of her not coming home for good in three days and instead going to yet another treatment facility. This one longer and farther away.

But, if there’s anything the past few hours have taught him, have shown him, it’s that Dr. Stratus and Gail were right. 

And so was Solana. 

She’s not ready to come home. 

She needs more help.

And he can’t, won’t, be selfish. Won’t be too consumed by his own want and desire to have her back with him. Not when it directly contrasts what she needs. 

And what she needs is continued professional help. 

So, that’s exactly what she’s going to get. 

“I’ll talk to Stratus about what we need to do.” And that’s more so in regards to location solely, so Roman can get a head start on working on safety precautions for her. He’ll keep Bautista with her. That seems to be a good fit. 

Solana, however, is bubbling with emotion again. From a different source. For a different reason. 

She pushes herself into his chest, Roman easily dropping his hands to her waist, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.” It’s as he holds her, her face buried into his chest that she murmurs those three, sacred, terrifying words. “I love you.”

He closes his eyes. 

It’s one thing to read it but something entirely different to actually hear her say it. 

He doesn’t know how to respond, how to react, what to say. 

Even if does feel the same way. 

So, he says nothing. 

________

“You took her out of the hospital.”

“Sure fucking did.”

Roman has never been so unbothered while sitting in Dr. Stratus office as she paces across, visibly and audibly stressed the fuck out by what occurred. 

After agreeing to let her continue treatment at the other facility, Solana was finally able to get some sleep. Roman as well. Not a ton, of course, because he woke up to her spot in bed next to him vacant. Dulce missing as well.

And if not for the note left for him that read ‘fixing us breakfast <3’, he might have even panicked a bit. Just a smidgen. Of course she would spend time doing something for them rather than herself. It’s such a Solana thing.

Regardless, he enjoyed breakfast with her but hated to see the saddened expression on her face as she said goodbye to her puppy, Dulce’s ears dropping and the whimpering returning as she also picked up on the pending separation.

She’s also felt and been impacted by Solana’s absence. 

But, it’s a necessary absence. 

Solana needs help. 

And it’s that, that oh-so important reminder, Roman keeps repeating to himself as this blonde bitch continues to berate him like he’s a fucking child. 

“Who the hell are you to make that decision?” She continues, pointing at him. “You do not get to remove my patient from my care without speaking to me!”

“I did what I had to do for my wife. She needed to get the fuck out of here.” Roman is a man who doesn’t believe in explaining himself, but given the situation, he makes a small exception. For Solana. Only for her. “But, if you don’t lower your fucking voice, you won’t have to worry about her, or anyone else, being your patient because the dead can’t be fucking psychiatrists.”

Dr. Stratus closes her eyes and shakes her head. “At the very least, you could have just texted me what was going on.”

“Keeping you briefed wasn’t my priority.” At all. “Keeping my wife alive was.”

She opens her eyes, asking, “was she suicidal?”

“She said no.” Roman still isn’t entirely sure he believed her. She could have been telling the truth, but she also could have been lying for a lot of different reasons. Still, that’s not something he feels the need to share. “She said she talked about her rape earlier that day in therapy and was having….flashbacks.”

“Flooding,” Dr. Stratus informs. “It’s when a survivor experiences intrusive thoughts, images, and flashbacks of their trauma.” She then looks at him, almost surprised, “she called you?”

Roman nods. “Said the coping shit wasn’t working.”

The doctor plops back down into her seat, saying more to herself than anything. “Well, I suppose that’s a good sign. That she reached out to you versus….other things.” That’s exactly how Roman feels. “Regardless, in the future, at least let me know what’s going on. I would have told you to give her the Hydroxyzine. We could have seen if it’s helpful.”

Roman doesn’t disagree with her there. The thought of one of her medications potentially being helpful definitely crossed his mind. But, he’s not about to tell this woman that.

He’s got other things he needs to discuss.

“The facility you were telling me about….” Roman looks away, not eager to have this conversation but knowing he needs to. For Solana. “Tell me more.”

________

A loud, guttural, almost animalistic growl leaves Samantha’s mouth at the same time the glass plate is tossed against the wall, shattering and spilling into tiny little pieces all across her kitchen floor.

Not that it makes a difference.

Punching the fridge, she ignores the throbbing in her fist and ineffectively tries to manage her nerves, dissuading the burning urge within to scream. It’s been less than 24hrs since she regained the ability to speak, her jaw finally healed enough and no longer wired shut.

But, now she’s left with nothing but pent up emotion all directed toward one person.

Solana

That fat bitch ruined everything. She stole Roman from her. The man who she’s been with since she was a fucking teenager. The man she always imagined would be her husband and father of her children, who would make her his Queen of the Bloodline, but none of that will happen now.

It won’t happen because of that slashed face whore.

Because Roman chose her over him.

Which brings up unfamiliar feelings towards her former lover.

Roman is an asshole. Always has been. As long as she’s known him, he’s been a dick, so his cruel behavior at times toward her never really bothered her. That’s just his personality. She never took it personally. 

Not until now, at least.

Because now, it’s not just his wife she’s mad at, it’s Roman too.

Granted, her fury toward the troll is significantly worse.

She’d kill the bitch if she could.

“Rough day?”

Samantha nearly jumps across the room at the sound of another person’s voice. She instead is braced against the refrigerator as she lands eyes on the last person she expected to find in her place.

“Seth?”

It takes another second for her to register that it truly is the once friend of her former lover. He sits on her sofa wearing at least three different types of animal print that are all outlined in some kind of bling, hair looking as unkempt as his mental health. 

She’s sly in trying to move closer to the knife set on the counter.

Seth, however, is as perceptive as he is insane. She stills when he casually pulls out a gun. “Ah ah. I just want to talk to you. That’s all.” He makes a face, playing with the gun.“Word on the street is that you got dumped.”

Samantha’s eyes narrow a bit. How does Seth freakin Rollins of all people know about her ‘breakup’ with Roman? Only those close to Roman would know that, and there’s no way anyone close to Roman would be speaking to Seth……

Right?

“Who—”

“You’ll find out about the members of this little crusade once you agree,” he explains, placing the gun on the sofa beside him, casually viewing his nails that are painted a hideous green. Like the color of slime from Nickelodeon back in the day. “Can’t risk snitches, of course.”

More interested than anything, Samantha asks, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He giggles, standing up and pulling a flask out of what seems like nowhere. “We’re gonna kill Roman Reigns.” Seth takes a swig as Samantha’s eyes widen, before he adds on, as if he forgot. “And his wife, Sadie.”

“Solana?”

Seth shrugs “Yeah, she can get killed too. Why not?”

Samantha finally laughs, crossing her arms. “You’re even crazier than I realized. You can’t just kill, Roman.” It’s damn near impossible. Does he not know the mountain of bodies that have tried and failed at the very same thing he’s suggesting? “And there’s no way in hell he’ll let you get even close enough to kill that bitch wife of his.”

“Oh, that’s a lot easier than you think.” Seth takes the flask to his mouth again, voice teasing yet malicious. “The Bloodline is full of traitors.”

Samantha goes quiet, wondering how much of this is madness and just how much is true. It seems too asinine to be true. 

But, there’s also the fact that the only way Seth could have known about Roman leaving her was if someone within the Bloodline told him, which would most definitely make them a traitor. And even that feels almost impossible. Roman’s family is notoriously loyal. Who would want to betray him?

The plural form of the word ‘traitor’ is also something that catches her attention. 

Could there be more than one traitor?

Seth meanwhile seems to be in a sense of imaginative blood lust, practically squealing, “the infamous Roman Empire is going to be coming to a gloriously bloody, gory end, and we’re trying to see who all want to be a part of our little murderous, traitorous gang.” 

Again, she’s caught off guard, realizing just now he’s clearly referring to more than himself. “Gang?”

Seth tilts his head, pouting as he says almost mysteriously, “we both know your former lover has no shortage of enemies.”

That is dangerously true, but what’s even more dangerous is this suicide mission Seth is proposing.

“How is this supposed to be any different from any other time people have tried to kill Roman?” As much as she would love to see Solana’s life drain from her ugly ass face, Samantha would rather not lose her life in the process. 

Seth is way too excited to answer. “Because this time, the call is coming from inside the house.” Her eyes widen. “With a little….Nightmare help as well.”

There’s so much to process in that one bombshell of a sentence. “Someone in the Bloodline is orchestrating this?” Not to mention whatever role the Nightmare Factory is playing. That’s just salt on an open, gushing wound. 

This type of betrayal is bound to crush Roman.

Samanth smiles. 

Oh, revenge is so so sweet. 

“I’ll join, but on one condition.” Seth’s brow lifts, a sign he’s ready to hear out her caveat. “That I get to stab and kill that bitch Solana myself. I get to be the one to take her from Roman.”

At the vision alone, Seth’s mad smile grows followed by that crazy ass laugh. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.” He claps his hands together, nodding. “You got yourself a deal, curly.”

Samantha nods, pleased with the arrangement. 

Whoever previously took the knife to Roman’s little wife, causing all those ugly ass scars, failed to get the job done. 

Samantha won’t. 

She does have another question, shrugging. “So who all is a part of this shit anyway?”

She’s especially curious about who the traitor is.

Or traitors. 

Of course, it’s just more mental edging with the self-proclaimed visionary. “You’ll get to meet the gang soon enough, but we’ve got one more person to recruit.” Samantha’s curiosity is evident, prompted by Seth casually tossing the flask up and down with a wicked gleam in his empty eyes. “Can’t take down Roman Reigns without inviting his good ole’ pal Brock Lesnar to join in on the fun, now can we?”

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 2

────୨ৎ────

College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode two!

Song recommendation: too sweet- hozier

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

────୨ৎ────

"You´re early" he grumbles, surprised at the figure stood in the empty classroom. At 8;30 am, 15 minutes before class, it is only natural for the hall to be empty. So it was only you standing there, dressed neatly, seemingly looking put together.

But Jungkook knew better. He didn´t even have to linger his penetrating gaze on the face of yours long to notice the exhaustion painted on your features.

As always, he turns a blind eye.

Everyone gets tired sometimes.

You nod, "I know, kind of did that on purpose" Standing there while opening your bag, you begin setting your books on the table. A rose colored journal slips out, landing perfectly on top of the books needed for his class. You had woken up early today, determined to not come late for a sixth time. Determined to try and keep up that yes, it was just an accident. Nothing more, no conspiracies.

The wind whispers from the open window, slipping in the fresh morning air, waving your hair with it in a swift but gentle swish.

nonetheless, he notices,

"Close the window, it is getting cold" he sits down at his desk, folding down the sleeves of his grey button down that so delicately revealed his strong form.

So you comply, shutting the air outside of the class.

"Thank you" the sound of two very simple, very common words catch you off guard. With a lean on the window behind you, your gaze shifts to the tall teacher propped up on his desk. Your mouth opens slightly to formulate a response but, cannot seem to gather what to say. Although in every other situation, it´s simple. You´re welcome.

"Calm down, I just thanked you. My god if you´re gonna react like this to every time i comply to that stupid deal of ours I´m gonna be sick" his arms cross in front of his chest, annoyed. Of course.

"I won´t, don´t flatter yourself" you shake your head slightly, moving to sit down at your desk. Certainly the conversation had been closed now. At this point, you did not expect him to engage in your bickering, soon the room would be filled with students.

However, you find out you were wrong,

"How are the injuries. Never asked about that" he´s not even looking at you when muttering a question you weren´t even sure was genuine. His eyes examining the laptop in front of him, much more engaged in the importance of his own tasks.

But Jungkook was not one to speak for filling a room simply to escape silence.

The urge to make fun of him for showing concern is lingering at the tip of your tongue, nevertheless, you bite down.

"Fine. Medium grade contusion on my right hip and lots of nasty bruises" you allow your eyes to wander along his features, letting yourself smile just a bit, hoping he would grand you a look.

"Good. Heal up quickly, you really aren´t in dire need for more absences after all"

His eyes leave the screen momentarily, glancing at you from behind his large squared glasses.

"Trying to. Thanks" your eyes meet for the split of a second before he returns to his priorities.

Just as the next student walks in.

"Good morning mr Jeon" he greets, receiving a nod from Jungkook in return.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"When is this gonna end", you mumble to yourself as you turn yet another page of given material. Yawning and stretching your arms up, you glance at the small numbers on the bottom right of your laptop that has been opened in front of you for what must have been 6 hours now.

9:45 pm already?

The schools library is most quiet at this time. The deafening, still comforting silence only breaks when the crashing of ice inside your drink or hushed words from your monologues make their way into the large study.

Most likely because the college library is already closed and you weren´t supposed to be here either. It´s not like you have ever been caught or are disturbing someone. Even the cleaning staff have become familiar with the long hours you spend sitting put at one of many desks inside the library. Admirable, they call it. In reality, this is as usual as it can get for you.

Only this time, things are different. You will be here the entire night, not just because you forgot how quickly time passes and suddenly the small rays of the morning sun kiss your hands,

It is out of necessity. For possibly the following nights as well. Until you find a new shelter that is willing to take in a runaway college student.

For a couple seconds you wonder how long it will take to find a one bedroom apartment you can afford with the below minimum wage tutoring job of yours. Working part time is impossible since ambitious, home having first year you decided to pack every possible class you could take right in your schedule.

One of the many things you regret.

A set of loud footsteps sound closer than the cleaning personal has ever been, ripping you right out the dream of a small, well decorated apartment. Mentally you groan, wondering if the day you had to be caught, really needed to be the day you would otherwise have to sleep on a park bench.

When the darkly colored wooden doors open to reveal who is roaming the hallways at a time you should be getting ready for bed, you simply can not believe your luck.

"Y/n?" the stern voice can never be mistaken for someone else, his eyes widening as he steps inside to approach your desk.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" obviously rhetorical he asks, swiftly pulling out the chair to your left and sitting down on it casually.

"I need to study. I´m not doing something wrong i swear, even the staff is fine with it, I just have so much work to do" in an attempt to rescue your chance at a warm sleep, you hurriedly let out every explanations that come to mind.

His eyes look down to your face when he slightly tilts his head back, his hand is now carefully placed on the table, tapping it rhythmically with his long and artful fingers.

I´m doomed.

"Interesting. Try doing that work when the library isn´t closed. Get up, you´re breaking the rules" the same hand that was tapping away motions upward to signal you; no really, get the fuck up.

Like the troublemaker you are, you stay put on your chair

"I can´t, I gotta get this done"

A familiar scoff escapes his lips "You cant be serious. I wasn´t asking. I said get up idiot"

"Jungkook please I really can´t" you plea with him pathetically. The way you must sound or look to him right now is far from your concern, what matters is the need to convince him.

His frustration is painted on his face so visibly you would be able to spot it from a mile away. Instead of you, he gets up, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Your eyebrows meet to express your utter confusion,

"What are you doing"

Jungkook´s eyes move over to yours, deadpanned as if you asked him the color of the sky, he looks at you.

"Calling the cops obviously. You´re Trespassing"

Your head shakes quickly as you repeat the words no,no,no,no,no while standing up and trying to get him to stop dialing. He takes a step back and groans, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Finally, leave now. I´ll come with you to make sure you actually leave and don´t try break in again"

"You're so annoying, model citizen over here"

"Thanks. You too" he grants you a fake smile before rolling his eyes so far back he would sure be able to see his brain.

You sigh, aware that any protest is useless or you might end up sleeping at the police station.

Gathering your things and already listing the possible parks and convenience stores you would need to pass time, sleep and study at in your head. Accepting the upcoming hardship you remember his words

Cruel world

A breathy laugh escapes your mouth at the memory.

"I can´t believe you were about to call the damn police on me" you turn to him while walking behind him and out the university. It´s pitch dark outside and you can barely make out any street signs.

"Well i believe in following the law. What way do you need to go?" his movements stop when he asked you that, waiting for a reply so he could make sure you were walking off in the right direction.

But, he was met with silence. You had no idea where to go and the freezing air combined with scarily dark surroundings had just made you register your situation. Where were you going to go?

Annoyed at the non response, he turns to look at you, expecting a pissed off stare or a blank look. He did not await you to look down with a frown of worry. Your head cocks slightly to the side, muttering "I don´t know yet"

Obviously, he doesn´t understand your reply. What could you possibly mean when saying you didn´t know where you lived.

That is until he remembered you living in a shelter.

She must be new there and had forgotten the address, careless as always.

"The hell am I supposed to get from that? Forgot your own goddamn address?" his hand rubs along his forehead, the tension between the both of you is as thick as the air around. Contradictory from his actions, his voice quiets down just a bit.

You decide to stay silent once more, debating if it would be worth telling him what is really going on. After the hospital situation you should be, you should be honest and try to let the deal actually work. Truth be told, the fear of being let down and belittled is much stronger at the moment.

Before you can open up your mouth to whip up a shitty excuse, he speaks again.

"Y/n, is there somewhere you can go?"

Jungkook could swear his heart drops to his stomach when he lets out these words, awaiting your reply patiently.

The question suffocates you, caught red handed you shake your head no, looking up to meet his concerned eyes. It was no use lying to him, he would be checking the library each and everyday, that would mean that you really had to spend multiple nights outside.

He lets out a sigh, placing both his hands on his hips.

"Why the fuck didn´t you tell me?"

"Seriously? I thought you were not gonna believe me and end up actually calling the cops, no thank you" your voice sounding almost unfamiliar after not speaking for a while.

"Sound like me can't even lie. Let's get back inside then" Jungkook says without waiting for your opinion, simply strutting back into the library. You can´t help but grin slightly at his abrubt nature. He goes back to sitting down at the very desk you were forced to leave 25 minutes ago.

"You´re gonna let me stay here?" the hopeful question makes his head shoot up from looking at the floor as he chuckles.

"No you smartass, that´s still illegal, and I´m still a law-abiding citizen. I´ll call around shelters and hotels with you, i guess"

Thanking whatever power rules this world at the tiniest amount of help you can get from Jungkook, you smile,

Meanwhile he is internally cussing himself out for being nice too quickly

"Thank you, seriously, didn´t think you would actually try and hold up your word"

"Didn´t you say you would not have this embarrassing reaction every time? Shut up before I change my mind" his eyes roll back to signal that he meant every word he said. Yours do too, to signal him that he is still an asshole.

His phone as well as yours end up getting taken out, spending the first fifteen minutes calling help centers and looking for cheap hotels

Unsuccessful at attempting to find an opening, you tell him that was expected since you were on basically every single waiting list you could register to.

"So help centers and shelters are off the list. Then let´s find you a decent hotel or something" he yawns, the inevitable need for sleep reaching him as the night deepens. You feel sorry for bounding him into your own personal mess, although it isn´t really your fault. He´s the one so addiment on not letting you stay at the library.

"Absolutely not. I really cannot afford that, I don´t even know for how long I would have to stay there, it´s too uncertain" your head meets the palm of your hand, closing your eyes while sighing at this stupidly vulnerable situation.

It must be past 11 pm already.

"I´ll lend you some money, just pay be back eventually"

"Fuck no" you laugh "That might take me years, and I´m far from comfortable with owing money"

Jungkook knows he can´t force you to, still provocatively he asks,

"What are your options then ?"

You open your mouth in disbelief, the obvious option being the room you are having the conversation in, "Just let me stay at the goddamn library, it´s safe and I don´t need to pay"

"It´s against the law and it is for more than one night" he remains sternly on his arguments

"Who gives a fuck about the law , will you seriously do anything to make me sleep on the streets Jungkook"

Your voice turns into somewhat of a yell, spitting out the frustration you feel towards this childish behaviour. Both of you are tired out of this hassle and want nothing more than to get some rest and peace of mind.

His eyes stay glaring, while his voice turns bitter, "You´re so stubborn, all that I´ve been trying to do is help you not sleep on a fucking bench you idiot. My god get that through the thick skull of yours. You think I´m gonna sleep well knowing one of my students, injured student at that, is spending the night on the streets?"

In all honesty, you knew he was correct. No one would sleep well knowing an acquaintance is in a dangerous spot and yeah, he had spend the past fourty minutes in your vicinity, the past 20 minutes trying to help and figure you out.

The night moves another ten minutes in silence, branches hitting the broad windows that are framing the lecture hall as the sighs of sleep deprivation and sorrow leave his lips.

You were begining to wonder how this would play out, assuming he would just sit there with you in silence until the sun came up.

But what then?

The guilt of keeping him entangled in your mess only continues to feed itself with each wordless minute that passes, you decide to tell him to go home, you would just figure it out yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had thought up something of his own,

"Stay at my apartment then. I have a guest room. We´ll get you something tomorrow and never speak about this again"

Nothing could have prepared you from the sentence that just left his lips. What is even worse about this, is how carelessly he said it, like a passing comment. Even when he basically suggested something comparable to running to the end of the rainbow for a goldpot.

"WHAT" you can´t help it, it just comes shooting out at the complete buffoonery of this situation, that somehow keeps happening with him.

He chuckled briefly at your outburst before combing through his raven hair, his eyes never changing from the standard glare

"Look, it´s fucking close to midnight, I need sleep and you need somewhere to sleep so I will be able to actually go to sleep"

His explanation is as self centered as you had awaited it to be,that does not take away from the fact that your teacher asked you to stay the night as his place.

"I- I can´t believe you would rather i sleep in your apartment than the library. No thank you, I´m taking the bench" your head shakes violently as your face turns from surprise to cringing at the idea.

There is no way in hell you would spend the night at your teachers house

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Okay, maybe i lied.

"Turn off the damn radio and- god fasten your seatbelt for fucks sake" Jungkook groans over to you in the passenger seat of his car.

It feels like a parade of clowns are banging on your door by the second you sat down into the black hyundai. Laughing at you like you were the circus performer, not them.

Somehow, he had managed to persuade you into taking up his offer. It is only for a couple hours after all, only to pass the night. So now, he´s bitching to you about something from the drivers seat, 8 minutes past midnight.

Ridiculous, so fucking annoying already. He thinks while reaching over your torso to loosen the seatbelt that is stuck behind the carseat.

Your breath hitches at his closeness, his arm grazing over yours for a millisecond when he reaches over.

Too close.

So close you can smell the cotton scented shampoo he uses, so close you could count the moles on his arms.

You haven´t spoken a word to him since agreeing on his offer and you don´t plan to. Originally, to lessen the awkwardness of everything, now, unsure if that made everything even more awkward.

Even your attempt to lighten the mood with the radio playing got rudely rejected by him.

What a long night it has been.

The drive is short, twelve minutes void of conversation and barely lit streets. Jungkook´s eyes don´t avert the road once, his stare never creeps it´s way over to check if you were still breathing. Given by the quiet as a mouse attitude of yours, it would certainly be a possibility.

Apart from the engine rumbling and the tires rolling on the concrete roads, you noticed his habit to hum whenever the traffic lights would turn green. He also only uses his right arm to drive, keeping his left pressed flat on his thigh.

Endearing, kind of.

Once parked in front of a small apartment complex, he gets out with you and your trusty backpack following right behind. The car locks as he enters the complex, then the elevator.

"Did you loose your voice or are you purposefully getting on my nerves" his tired speech cuts through the thick air,

finally

"Just don´t really know what to say. This is all so strange" you reply, trying to sound non-chalant when the hammering of your nervous heartbeat is so far up your throat, you might actually be sick.

"it is" he says, stepping outside of the elevator and rustling his keys to unlock the door, as if it is not his fault you guys ended up like this.

When the door opens, you are greeted with a white, dimly lit hallway. He takes off his shoes first before you repeat the action and walks into, what you would assume, the livingroom. The apartment is far from the cold and empty modernity you had expected. It´s quite cozy, small but filled with photography and paintings. The apartment generally smells just like him, cotton, a hint of wood and leather.

There are four doors around, one that is open clearly leading to the kitchen, two that are across from each other and one at the very back.

"Sit down on the couch, don´t stand there so awkwardly"

His suggestion is once again, more of a demand that you, as usual, comply to. Jungkook doesn´t try to show you around, skipping all the weird hosting formalities, except for one.

He sits down next to you, keeping a comfortable distance between both of your bodies

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"Water would be good, yeah" the reply sounds painfully forced in an effort to keep the small talk and get to sleep as soon as possible.

The thought of having to face him the next morning made you want to rip your hair out, to try and distract yourself you look around the open space, taking in the beautiful pictures hung up around.

Once he sets the glass of water down you accept it gladly, drinking from it in another attempt to conceal the uncomfortable situation.

"Did you take these?" curiously you point to a collage above the coffetable in the corner of the room. It´s a collection of damp flowers and pretty fields, the color scheme is white and lavender.

It suits him, you think

"Mhm, took em´ four years ago" his voice echos through the walls of his home, following your stare directed at the collage.

"So photography can be pretty, maybe I´m really just talentless" you scoff, remembering the awful portfolio you handed him in.

"Yes, to both of those"

The comment seems to have softened the mood a little bit, you can physically feel your shoulders release tension.

"Jungkook?" now it is his turn to look at you, trying to guess what would follow the sound of his name out of your mouth. He can´t help but jump a bit every time it rolls off of your tongue, natural but uncomfortable at once.

"yeah?", he says

"i know you hate this but I really can not, well, not say this. Thank you for your effort. You may be an asshole but you definitely are a man of your word. You wasted way too much time and concern and fuck, even let me stay here. I owe you something" once your rant is finished, you laugh before searching his face for the scoff you usually see presented there, regardless of the situation.

Only to find it gone,

It has been replaced by a soft smile, something so foreign on his face, it made you feel a spark of joy.

"I guess that was pretty nice of me. You definitely owe me some shit. I´ll get you the sheets yeah? we need to get some rest" Without really acknowledging what you had told him, he brushes past the attempt of a heartfelt conversation. To you, he didn´t have to say anything, the smile was enough to signal,

You´re welcome.

Now you stood there, sheets in hand, trying not to look at your teacher in his guest bedroom.

While putting the sheets on the bed, he stays leaning against the doorframe, watching you blankly

"Mind if i ask, you know, what happend?"

It hadn´t occurred to you before that you never actually spoke the words i got kicked out of the shelter

"With things like shelters, women with children have, righteously so, priority over runaway college kids. That´s all" , you explain,your eyes fixated on the task before you, finally finishing it up, the satisfaction of sleep inching way closer that it is now basically in reach.

He hums in response, making you look at him, leaned against his doorframe, full glory in grey sweats and a black shirt, hair laying messily over his glasses

When did he get changed?

"So. about tomorrow then, I´m guessing you won´t be able to find something so fast" tainted by exhaustion his voice tries it´s best to sound stern, nevertheless, a yawn escaping his lips makes him feel much less distant than usual.

Maybe it's just the fact that you're in his house, but that is besids the point.

"Yeah sherlock that is why i kept trying to tell you to just let me sleep at the damn library" you roll your eyes, this is the fifth time you tried explaining that to Jungkook. As a teacher, you expected him to be a little faster than that.

"Oh my god this again? I´ll kick you out if you protest one more damn time. You can just fucking stay here until a shelter calls you back, Why are you so attached to that library"

The last part arrives to your ear fuzzily as he had already shut the door of the guest bedroom, leaving you to think for yourself with what he had just uttred

Slipped secretly between his cussing he offered you to live with him temporarily. Just like that, blatant, sudden, plain. The words ring in your head, over and over again.

You can just fucking stay here

Like it´s no big deal

Whatever

You would deal with it tomorrow, it was just a comment. Sleep is far more necessary, begging you to finally rest for the remaining couple hours of the night. Too exhausted to continue thinking,

"Good night to you as well" you yell, opening the door just a bit for him to hear, earning a groan in response.

[willixmsonswife]

rest/leah williamson

*leah williamson x fem!reader *the word 'rest' is simply not included in leah's vocabulary *tiny argument and mentions of her torn acl at the beginning but happy end :)

*2.75k words

.................................

"I tore my acl." Those were definitely not the words I wanted to hear from Leah when I walked into her room. I had watched her limp off the pitch during the match and I wasn't able to concentrate on the rest of it. I had to wait until she was in the hospital to see her because the security wouldn't let me. "She's my best friend, she needs me!" didn't really change their mind.

So I waited three hours in my apartment, car keys in one hand, phone in the other. I almost dropped my phone when it rang and immediately accepted the call. "Hello?" I tried to hide the worry in my voice but it was still very present. "Hello is this y/n y/l/n?" An unfamiliar voice answered. "Yes, that's me. Who is this?" Maybe it wasn't the call I was expecting. "I'm a nurse at the St. Marys Hospital in London and I'm calling for Leah Williamson. She would've called herself but she has to undergo an MRI at the moment. I'm calling you because your number was marked as the one to call if something happened and I think she really needs someone to be by her side." I felt my heart drop further and further while the nurse talked. Leah had to undergo an MRI by herself and I was probably the only person that knew that she was terrified of those machines. Plus, an MRI was not a good sign for her knee. "Okay, thank you for calling me. I'll be there in 15 minutes." I hung up and just stared at my phone. What if she really tore her acl? What if she couldn't play football for the rest of the year? That would be pure torture for her and it would absolutely destroy her not only physically but mentally. She worked so hard to be selected for the World Cup and wore the captain armband with pride every single time. I had to be there for her through all of it. I stood up and drove to the hospital as fast as I could.

.................................

"Excuse me? I'm here to see Leah Williamson. A nurse called me earlier saying that-"

"Ah yes, you are miss y/l/n right?"

"Yes, yes that's me."

"Miss Williamson is currently staying in room 204 which is just across the corridor on the right side." She pointed towards the direction and I thanked her before searching for the right room. 200, 202, 204. There it was. I took a deep breath. I had to be calm now, I had to pull myself together for Leah.

I knocked three times and heard her response soon after. "Come in." So I did. The first thing I saw as I entered were her jersey and her shorts, neatly folded on a chair at the other end of the room. I took a few steps towards her bed but she only looked at me when I stood directly next to her. "I tore my acl." Her eyes were bloodshot and I could hear in her voice that she already cried. "Lee, I-"

"No. Please don't say anything. I don't want to hear your encouragements and how everything's going to be fine! It's not! I'm not able to play in Australia and I'm gonna let the whole team down! It's not going to be fine!" Her voice became louder and louder while she talked and she screamed the last sentence. I was well aware that this anger was not directed towards me but more towards the fact that this happened to her, now, and that she couldn't do anything about it. So instead of telling her that, I hugged her tight. I could feel her tense muscles relaxing at my touch and she just gave in to her feelings. "Why did it have to be me? Why now?" She said in between sobs, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know Leah, I'm so sorry." I just held her and rubbed her back comfortingly while she cried.

.................................

This whole situation happened over two months ago. Leah was now past the surgery and had started rehab. It was going well but one thing bothered me extremely. "Leah?" I stopped the episode I was watching and sat up from the sofa. The apartment was completely silent now that the tv had stopped. "Lee?" I went upstairs and knocked on her bedroom door. "Yes?" I opened the door and was met by Leah standing in front of her closet, only dressed in shorts and a bra, holding up a dress and a blazer. My eyes instantly moved from her well trained body to the floor, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. "Oh hi y/n. What's up?"

"I, eh- I called you from down stairs. Wanted to know what I should make for dinner."

"Oh right. You-" She turned around to face me and saw me looking down, embarrassment unfortunately still clearly written on my face. "You can look at me y'know?"

"Oh, I just- I didn't know if-"

"y/n, we're living together. We're best friends and room mates. I'm absolutely not bothered by you looking at me and it does not make me feel uncomfortable. Trust me." I lifted my head and her piercing blue eyes looked straight into mine. My cheeks immediately turned a bit redder but I tried to ignore it, hoping that she didn't notice. Unknown to me, she did and she wasn't upset about it one bit. "So, dinner. What should I make?"

"Actually, I'm going out this evening. You only have to cook for yourself."

"What? You're going out? Again? With who and where?"

"With Alex, she invited me as her plus one to this event and-"

"Lee you can not possibly be serious right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Leah, you had your surgery two months ago and only started rehab, It's going well, yes, but the doctor still said that you have to take things slow especially going out for so long. You already met up with over ten different people in not even two weeks! You have to rest and give your knee a break, please."

"Oh and you suddenly care about that? So you don't want me to return to my normal life and just have fun with my friends? You want me to stay home and just do nothing apart from the rehab? What great best friend you are!"

I tried my best to stay calm, not wanting to start an argument at this moment.

"That's not what I said and you know that. I just don't want you overwork your knee and set you back in you rehab because we both know that that's the last thing you would want right now. You just have to accept that your life is not the same as before right now but-"

"I know that it's not the same! I had to actually come to terms with the change, you didn't! You could just continue your life like nothing happened because nothing happened to you! You didn't tear your acl, you didn't have to undergo surgery, you don't have to go to rehab four times a week because your life didn't change one bit!" I did not expect her to start yelling at me. I just stood there and didn't move, scared that she would just snap again. I did not deserve any of those accusations and I was totally aware of that.

"You know what? Go to your event. Why don't you just stay at Alex' house for that matter? So you two can just party all night long and forget about everything."

I saw in Leah's eyes that she knew she had overstepped a line. "y/n-" She took a step forward and reached for my hand but I stepped back.

"No. You don't get to do that Leah. I know that your life is hard right now but I'm doing everything I can to help and support you. I cook for you, I drive you everywhere, I go to rehab with you because you don't want to feel alone and I even started to work from home just so you don't have to feel lonely in our apartment! And you know why I do that? Because I love you okay? I love you Leah and I would do everything for you, even tear my own acl just so you have someone who feels what you had to feel! I love you way more than I should and I'm sorry that I care about your health and your wellbeing so much."

With those words I left her room and stormed into mine, which was just across from hers. I slammed the door shut before she could even think about following me. Hot tears streamed over my cheeks as I sat down on the edge of my bed. Leah and I rarely argued which I was extremely thankful for. And normally we always apologized to each other minutes after it enden because we couldn't stand the thought of being mad at one another. But not this time. This fight was the biggest one we've had and I knew that it wouldn't just be solved by saying sorry.

Thinking about the fight, I realized what I said to her. Did I actually confess my feelings to her in an argument? Oh god. I let myself fall onto my bed and just wanted to turn back time. How could I be so stupid and let my emotions get the best of me?

.................................

About half an hour later I heard Leah's door open. I could hear her stop in front of my door and I imagined her standing there, only a few meters away from me, contemplating what to do or say next. Then she knocked. "y/n?" I couldn't get myself to answer and just continued to stare at my ceiling. At least I had stopped crying now. "I- fuck. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. That argument escalated way too fast and I- I don't even know what I wanna say. I'm sorry. I'm going now, Alex is waiting outside. Call me tomorrow, please."Her voice broke and I could hear that she was as close to crying as I was. And yet, I didn't answer. She was allowed to do whatever she wanted and I was not going to stop her. I listened to her steps as she walked downstairs, struggled to put on her shoes and finally left the house. She didn't slam the door like I did, she closed it carefully, like everything was normal. Except it wasn't. I had this weird feeling like something heavy was laying on my chest and I couldn't breathe properly. Maybe it was good that she left, maybe that was what we needed. A watery smile appeared on my lips when I thought about it. Who was I even kidding? I already missed her even though she only left 10 minutes ago. How pathetic was that? I slowly made my way out of my bed and carefully opened the door as if someone was still here that I could possibly bother. I took the same steps down stairs that Leah took only a few moments ago. The tv was still on pause so I just sat down and continued to watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S aimlessly. Just when I thought about calling Keira to tell her about everything that had happened, I heard someone opening the door. Who was that? The only person who had a spare key was Keira and the last time I checked she was in Barcelona. My eyes were fixed on the door. The remote In my right hand, I was ready to throw it at- "Leah?" I lowered my hand and looked at her confused. "What the fuck are you doing here? You're supposed to go out with Alex." My confusion was replaced by slight anger as I recalled the events from earlier. "Oh y/n, I- I didn't expect you to be downstairs. I thought-"

"What are you doing here Leah?"

She closed the door behind here and took her shoes off before she came to sit on the couch next to me. I turned so I could face her and watched her carefully as she placed a bag on the small table next to us. "Please let me talk y/n. I need to apologize to you."

I nodded, signaling her to continue and that I was listening.

"Okay so, I need to tell you that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of the things that I said earlier because you don't deserve it. You did everything you could for me and I took it for granted which it's absolutely not. You didn't have to do that and yet you still did because you care for me. You stayed by my side during the time before the surgery, encouraged me right before it and were the first to visit me afterwards. You helped me come home and made me feel more at home than I ever felt before. I want to thank you for that. It might take more than just this apology but I'm willing to do everything for you that you did for me."

"Leah-"

"No, I'm not finished." She took my hands in hers and gently stroke her thumb over the back of my hand.

"During those couple months, I could always count on you, you were always there for me. You made me feel things I never felt before. I'm not the best at expressing my emotions and I think you're aware of that." I chuckled and a small smile made its way onto her face. "But this is different. Every time you drove me somewhere, rehab, the store, literally anywhere and put your hand on my thigh to comfort me, it felt like small fireworks exploded in my whole body. I had no idea why that was the case but I just always wanted to be close to you. Every single touch, every single look, every single hug wasn't enough because I wanted to feel you close the entire time. What I'm trying to say is, I think I fell for you. No, scratch that. I'm madly in love with you y/n and when you told me that you felt the same in my room, my brain just couldn't process the fact that you actually said that." She let out a slight chuckle and looked directly into my eyes. "I like you too y/n."

"I- wow. I did not expect that. Are you serious?"

"One hundred twenty percent." I smiled and leaned forward to hug her. "Thank you Lee, I really appreciate it." I felt her place a kiss on my temple and my heart swell at that small gesture. "So what's in that bag?" I asked as I let go of her. "Take out from the Japanese restaurant that you love so much. I thought you might don't wanna cook after this whole thing."

I just looked at her, sitting in front of me, eyes full of love. "Thank you Lee. It's perfect honestly." I grabbed one of the take out boxes and Leah got us two forks from the kitchen. We settled on the couch and continued to watch the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S that I had started.

.................................

I finished before her and 'obliviously' put my hand on her thigh, tracing random patterns on it. I could feel her tense and just grinned. She placed her empty box on the table and I shifted in my seat until I faced her. She sensed my gaze on her and turned her head. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Nope, nothing." I moved my hand up a bit more and Leah's cheeks turned a dark shade of red. "So, I set off small fireworks in you?" I smirked at her teasingly and she just looked down, trying to hide her now crimson red cheeks. I lifted her head with one finger and leaned forward. "Was is too much?"

"Not at all Lee. I'm just glad to know that I'm not alone with that feeling." I whispered against her lips before I closed the gap and enjoyed her soft lips on mine. We parted after a few seconds and I rested my head on her chest. "It might take more than one kiss like that to convince me that you're not lying about this." I grinned and Leah let out a small laugh. "I think that's possible to arrange."

i'm baaack! this maybe took a bit more than a few day but eyyy, at least i finished it. i hope you liked it :)

and this whole text is not proofread so i apologize in advance for any possible mistakes

[icarusredwings]

would you recommend takin' over the asylum

Yes! And not only because of David but also the other charater's arcs are very intresting too!

It's on youtube for free and is only about 7 episodes.

TOTA discusses topics that were seen as very taboo at the time it was produced/written.

While we as mature veiwers can watch this and say "Okay yes there is misinformation" we have to remember that this was made before even going to a therapist was something people did regularly and openly admited it. If you went to a phycologist back then or even a therapist you were looked down opon.

This show shows and talks about things so subtly that you won't pick them up unless you've been there, OR you pay attention well. For example, one of the things with Campbell is that he is very "ego" driven, and Eddie has to learn how to balance him to keep him from toppling over and becoming manic. For example you'll see a lot of episodes Eddie will praise Bain and then scold him afterwards because in the begining episodes he gives Campbell too much praise/trust and it makes him have a break down because as I explain it to some "Once you get to the top of that cliff, you fall off"

At the very begining the viewer and Eddie are mislead to assume Campbell is a staffmember or a volunteer because of how open of arms he has, hes so eager to help and be useful, hes kind, and as eddie says "He dosn't *seem* looney?" And this is because he's very managable but his parents couldn't so sent him away.

Another reason I recommend it is the diversity of the acting and patiants. People often pin him as the silly side kick charater but Davids acting brings his story to a whole new level.

Campbell is also very energetic compared to most patients, and I think he's one of the youngest ones they have so he gets excited about things VERY quickly. He's jumping all over the place. Lil manic puppy. He always gets so happy to Eddie too, its very clear hes attached to him which (if you know) its very common for bipolar/ manic deapressivss to have that *one* person. This is what I mean by subtleness.

This show also includes topics such as (count this as a trigger warning too)

Giving up your boring job to follow your dreams (which was just ridiculous back then)

Immigration

Unfair justice system

Adhd

Ocd (id say her charater is most likely the worst portrayed but when you realize why it breaks your heart)

Abusive relationships

The taboo idea of dating a 'looney'

Quiting smoking for the better

Bipolar /Manic depressive disorder

Child loss

Self harm

Self ending

Grief

Mutism

Autism

Medical abuse of patiants/manipulation

Substance abuse

Different coping mechanisms

Homelessness

Another thing about this show I like is Eddie is very open to them, he treats them like people, he gets nervous and worried they wont enjoy his company even which means he cares enough about them to think their opinions matter whilst another worker states that they're loonies, no one cares what they want.

He takes care of Campbell a lot as well because- well.. He's a bit of trouble. A little scamp he is. But hes so cute tho. And YES David Tennant's accent IS in this one. It's SO much more thicker then say Crowley or the Doctor.

SPOILERS

Hell there's a woman who they claim is speaking in tounges but she's just speaking a foreign language in which Eddie only takes like 2 days to figure out because he had the nerve to LITSEN to her and try to see what she was saying instead of telling her to speak english and to take pills. The sad bit about this, though, is she becomes homeless because of getting kicked out of the mental hospital.

Yet another theme I like about this show is that A. The colors are just bright enough to keep attention but not get a head ache, B. Bain behaves exactly the way you would expect a teen experiancing issues would, happy, snappy, sad, overly confident all at once, in a blink. C. Eddie meets this woman with a mean dog and yet Eddie forgives this dog many times despite it tried to bite him.

The woman was older and was testing eddie to see if he's a good person or not, no matter how annoying she was to him, he treats her with upmost respect and kindness. She ends up paying him a lot to fix the windows, which gives him extra cash to spend on one of the girls he was intresting seeing as hes very respectful to her despite her depression and I want to almost guess Post Partum but I actually don't know,

ANYWAY He even takes her to see his grandparents and adopts kittens just for her because she loves kittens and some delinquents killed her other kittens.

In most stories, the doctor or patiant is odd and tries to manipulate the other into going out with them, but whenever she declines, he only nods and goes away. It doesn't feel forced either. It's very sweet.

Anyway YES. Please watch it like holy shit I don't have anyone to talk to about it!! The lady who wrote it was actually bummed it flopped because of how progressive it was but is happy its becoming popular now! Love you Donna Franceschild!

[schizopositivity]

Do you have a severe mental illness that can/has caused a mental health emergency? Are you currently stable? You should make a basic safety plan! [Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, this advice is taken from my own experiences and what I learned in inpatient psychiatric facilities. This post caters more to those who experience severe psychotic episodes as that is my experience.]

1. Find a safe person. Someone you often spend time with that you can trust with the details of your mental illness and feel safe around. Ask them if they are comfortable being the person to look out for you if you have a mental health emergency. Preferably someone you live with. If no one you live with fits this role, find someone you contact regularly.

2. Explain to the safe person what a mental health emergency looks like for you. Think of the way you presented in the past during mental health emergencies and try to describe it. You may have to describe it based on what others have told you if you had memory loss during episodes in the past.

3. Let them know how they can check with you to see if you are in a mental crisis. You might need them to ask you some questions to gage your mental state (examplse: Do you know where you are right now? Are you able to talk?). Tell them what questions to ask to find out if you are in a crisis.

4. Explain to them what you would want to happen in a mental health emergency. If they are able to see that you are indeed in a mental health emergency, what steps would you want them to take? If you will need to go to the hospital, but don't want to interact with police, let them know to tell that to emergency services. If there's a nearby inpatient facility you would want to go to, tell them which one and give them their contact info. If episodes typically pass on their own for you, let the safe person know how to keep you comfortable and safe until it passes.

5. Have an easily accessible contact paper or note on your phone with some basic info in case you can't speak to professional help while you are in a crisis. Add your name, birth date, your diagnoses, and exactly what medications you take and the dosages. You can add specific warnings or triggers about yourself (examples: Doesn't like being touched by medical professionals. Can react violently to loud noises). You can add contact info of people you'd want to let know about your situation. You can add your insurance information if you have it.

6. If you would have to go to a hospital/inpatient facility, let the safe person know if there's anything else you'd want them to handle once you get there. (Examples: Pack a bag of clothes for the inpatient stay. Feed my pets while I'm gone or ask someone else to. Contact my work place for me and let them know I won't be able to come in.)

Yes this is a long list, but I feel it's important to prepare and get your bases covered while you have the capacity to do so. Often when someone is in crisis they don't know how to ask for help, or what to do once they get help. Thinking of everything ahead of time saves you the extra worry later, or the extra worry of guessing by the people around you.

And if you are thinking "this is too much work to make someone else do!" Consider how much harder it would be if they found you in crisis and had no idea what to do and you wouldn't be able to tell them. If you have a severe mental illness that can/has caused you to be in a state of mental health emergency, you deserve to be cared for by others during the crisis.

[enby-jellyfish]

The Start of Summer

Chapter 1 of Managing the Mystery Shack

Grunkle Stan X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your, They/Them

Summary: Summer has begun and the twins have arrived.

Warnings: Slight angst, but that's it I think.

Word Count: 1984

A/N: Hey y'all, sorry it's been *checks notes* Over a month!? I hit a mental block due to school starting and had to micro dose my productivity for a bit :( I will try having a better updating schedule from now on!

Previous part

It has been around thirty years since the incident. A lot has changed in that time. The wound on your face has healed, leaving behind a visible scar in its place.

The shack has also changed. Over the years it has been properly transformed into a beloved tourist trap, complete with gift shop, now named the Mystery Shack. The left over rooms have been fully redecorated and anything science related has been moved into the basement.

Together you and Stan have made countless renovations to the formerly grim shack and transformed it into your shared home and a successful business.

In the time that passed the two of you grew very close, almost like a family. You work in the shack together, eat together, watch TV together, and work on the portal together. There is very little time you spend apart.

The two of you sit squeezed next to each other on the small worn couch in the living room, watching a rerun of an old Duck-tective episode, as you usually do after dinner, when the phone in the office starts ringing. “Who calls at this hour? Can you get that? I would but, it’s sooo. Faaar. Awayyy.” Stan asks you, extending his arm in a fake attempt to reach the ringing phone, not taking his eyes from the small TV for a second.

You sigh and roll your eyes at his lazy antics as you get up, joints cracking as you do so. You should probably get that checked out at some point. “Ugh, fine. But you’re getting it next time.”

You move to the office and pick up the phone, holding it up to your ear and putting on the best customer service voice you can muster. “Hello, this is the Mystery Shack. We put the ‘fun’ in ‘no refunds’! How can I help you?” You can hear someone yelling on the other side of the line before they address you, “Hey, can I talk to my uncle please- YES, I’M CALLING NOW! GET OFF MY BACK. Please.”

The remainder of Stan’s family is… certainly something. Dropping the customer service voice you respond. “Sure, one second. Stan, it’s for you! Your nephew!” You call for him and he groans in response. You hear him turn off the TV and start shuffling your way, muttering curses under his breath. He takes the phone from you, leaning on his arm against the wall, fidgeting with the phone cord in his fingers. “Hey kid, what’s up?”

You head back to the living room to give them some privacy, flipping through an old notebook while waiting for him to finish his conversation.

About a minute passes when Stan calls your name. “, is it alright if my grandniece and -nephew spend the summer here?”

You had met the twins a few times before. In fact, Stan had taken you with him to the hospital when they were born. He finds it difficult seeing his family alone. He mentioned once, in a moment of vulnerability, that you make it easier.

He was nervous to hold them at first, worried he would mess something up, but when his nephew placed the two infants in his arms he practically melted. You remember how he refused to let them go. Shermie basically had to wrestle the twins out of his arms.

You had seen the twins a handful of times more after that, they seem like good kids.

“Yeah, it’s fine by me!” Stan finishes up his conversation and rejoins you in the living room.

“They’ll be coming tomorrow, their parents really seemed eager to get them out of the house.” You feel bad for those kids, it’s no secret their parents’ marriage is on thin ice with the amount of fights they have. At least they’ll be out of the house and won’t have to witness when it all falls apart.

“Where are they gonna be staying?” There aren’t really any bedrooms available in the shack with Ford’s being boarded off and Stan taking Fiddleford’s.

“I was thinking the attic, we should still have a spare bedframe and a few old mattresses lying around here somewhere.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“Sounds like a plan.” You check the time. “We should get their room ready now if we still want to work on the portal tonight.” Stan hums in agreement and extends his hands for you to grab, hoisting you up from the couch with a groan.

The two of you clean up the attic and gather what you need for the room. Together you take apart the bedframe, putting the headboard with two mattresses on one side of the writing desk underneath the triangular window, and the base with one mattress on the other side. A few pillows, blankets, and some fairy lights later it looks pretty decent.

Exhausted, yet satisfied with yourselves you wipe the sweat you build up from your brow. “Do you think they’ll like it?” You shrug. “I don’t know for sure, but I think so, kids love attic rooms, right? Why?” Stan sheepishly shrugs, rubbing his neck and avoiding eye contact. “I want them to like it here, I guess.” You can’t tell if ‘here’ means the room or with him in general.

You step closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’m sure they will.” Stan stares at you for a moment, seemingly deciding whether to believe you or not. He settles for the first and nods.

Suddenly realising you still have your hand on his shoulder you remove it, patting his shoulder awkwardly before turning for the door. “C’mon, we still have a portal waiting for us. It isn’t going to fix itself.”

After a few hours of working in the basement you bid each other good night and head for your respective bedrooms.

That next day Stan anxiously awaits the kids. In his mission to make a good impression he threw away all alcohol and cigars in the house and even swore off cursing in front of the kids.

When the bus with the twins finally arrive, he excitedly gives them a tour of the shack before taking them to Greasy’s Diner with the excuse that he ‘doesn’t feel like cooking’.

That night when you get ready to head to bed you stop in front of the twins’ room. Stan stands in front of the door listening to the voices pouring from the room. He notices you, puts a finger to his lips and continues listening in on them. You are about to tell him off for eavesdropping when you hear what the twins are discussing.

“Think about it Mabel, do you really want to spend the entire summer here? We could just run away, catch the next bus home, maybe call the FBI while we’re at it, because I’m pretty sure at least 90% of everything going on in this shack is illegal.”

You look at Stan, but he refuses to meet your eye. “I don’t know Dipper. I mean, Grunkle Stan seemed really happy to have us here. This all doesn’t seem that bad. Maybe we could- OH, I’ve got an idea!” You hear Mabel explain that they could use a magic eight-ball to decide their fate.

You hold your breath as you wait for its answer. It tells them to stay. That is good you suppose.

You pull away from the door when you hear the twins settle into bed, Stan suddenly rushing toward his room. He was never very good at dealing with emotions properly, a remnant of his rough childhood, but you’ve known him long enough to tell when he needs comfort, even if he won’t ask for it.

You gently open the door to Stan’s room and find him sitting on his bed, head in his hands. Without saying a word, you sit down next to him and softly put your arms around his tense frame. After a while of holding him, you feel him starting to relax a bit.

Without saying a word, he sits up and moves you so you’re both laying down. This isn’t the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, holding each other, though it has been a while. In the early days you quickly found out he had a lot of nightmares.

You had come rushing into his room at the sound of him screaming, finding him looking disoriented and covered in sweat. Eventually you had managed to calm him down.

Stan didn’t want you leaving after that.

You didn’t want to either.

Whenever the need arises, like now, you would just hold each other. Sometimes there would be talking, sometimes not.

Now it's the latter. Both of you content with just laying there, inhaling each other's scent, and tracing patterns over aged skin until sleep takes over.

The next day Stan is mostly back to his usual self and decides to put the kids to work, making Dipper hang up signs in the woods.

In the time Dipper is gone Mabel, who has decided that this getaway is the perfect opportunity to have an ‘epic summer romance’, after many failed attempts around the shop, which was pretty entertaining to watch, finally found a date.

“Hey boss, guess what?” You turn your gaze from the notepad you were comparing prices on to the widely grinning girl next to you. “I’m not your ‘boss’ Mabel, you don’t work for me. What is it?” You gently remind her, despite knowing that nickname is definitely going to stick.

She rolls her eyes playfully and waves away your comment. “Pshh, tell that to Grunkle Stan! Anyways, guess who has a date? It’s me! I have a date!” She squeals excitedly. “Aw, that’s nice. I’m happy for you Mabel.” She squeals some more before running off to get ready for her date, leaving you to continue doing your job.

He comes to pick her up later that day. The teenaged emo boy is quickly introduced as ‘Norman’ before Mabel rushes them outside. Dipper follows them shortly after, hurriedly exclaiming he has no time to explain before rushing out the door, leaving you slightly confused.

A few hours later the twins walk back into the gift shop looking dishevelled. “Hey kids. Mabel, how did your date go?” She gives you a big smile and a thumbs up. “Horrible!” Well, that’s not the answer you were expecting. “Oh! Are you okay? Do you need anything?” She waves away the idea. “Nah!” Well, alright then.

Stan, who was counting money before, stops and tries breaking the ice by making a joke, which he doesn’t get a reaction to. You decide to help him out. “Oh, would you look at that. It seems I have overstocked some inventory.” Stan is about to tell you off for wasting precious money but stops himself when he notices you giving him a look and nodding to the twins.

“OH, er. Hey kids, how about you pick something from the shop, on the house.”

Dipper picks out a nice hat with a pine tree symbol and Mabel chooses a… grappling hook?! Where did she even find that?

Stan is easily persuaded, but you are still hesitant. “Stan, giving a 12-year-old a weapon doesn’t seem like the best idea.”

Mabel gives you her best impression of a kicked puppy. “Oh, please, please, please, please, boss?”

Oh, you can’t say no to those eyes. “Do you promise you’ll be careful?”

“Scout’s honour!” She gives you a salute. “You have never been a scout.” Dipper corrects her.

“GRAPPELING HOOK!”

That evening Mabel accidentally destroys a window.

Next part (TBA)

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[rrivlet]

let me tell you where therapy and psychiatry has gotten me real quick, as a person with schizophrenia that includes delusions, psychosis, and an inability to cooperate sometimes:

AT LEAST 6 ward stays (2 in childhood) which separated me from my actual support network and put me on prescription drugs that I didn't really want, many of which made things actively worse.

MONTHS of residential treatment as a teenager against my will, where I suffered heavy abuse, bullying, gaslighting about what I was experiencing, and other assorted sorts of miseries.

ACTIVE HARM from many of my medications due to side effects, improper administration, bad instructions, pharmacy shortages leading to withdrawals, misdiagnosis, and stigma around said meds.

FEAR OF COMMUNICATION about serious mental issues, even with loved ones that I know will not harm me or send me to a ward to be abused and/or neglected again.

TRAUMA from everything mentioned above, and much, much more.

Listen, I know that psychiatry and therapy is necessary for some people, and it was for me too, at one point in time. I've had far too many bad experiences by now, and far too many frustrations with how I and others were/are treated.

If someone tells you they don't want to do therapy, drugs, or hospital visits about their problems, LISTEN TO THEM!!!!!!!!!

The brain damage and loss of cognitive function I experienced from this (and continue to experience while I try to get off these blasted medications) has made my life hell, and now I'm dependent on stimulants just to function. At all.

All of this because people are so scared of weird people who "act up" (read: experience an episode or crisis) in public. Treatments have been forced on me since I was 10 or so, and all of them turned me into a zombie that was barely capable of thinking, let alone living.

The meds help some people, yes, but they're often a bandaid fix to the issue that is exacerbating environmental factors. Therapy helps some people, yes, but for a lot of folks like me, it just leads to hospital stays that don't help, medication that doesn't help, and trauma that makes things worse.

The current current treatments of acute mental health issues are, buy and large, systemically oppressive to disabled people like me who don't have a hope for "independence."

Again, some treatments work for some people without causing them harm, but the point of me saying ANY of this is that if someone doesn't want to engage with the system, THERE'S PROBABLY A REALLY GOOD REASON FOR THAT!

[tommykinardismyautisticbbg]

Okay im back new BT fic idea!!

TW: MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDERS AND SELF HARM READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Tags: Hurt/comfort, jee and her uncle Tommy.

Title: A Teddy Bear and his tape.

Tommy and Evan both know that love can cure mental illness despite how hard Evan may try to help sometimes you need professional help. Tommy struggles with depressive episodes and when they get really bad he tends to self-harm but his biggest struggle of all is food he struggles with anorexia and has since he was young due to being bullied for being fat and when those episodes happen his struggles get worse at first Evan thought that Tommy was a picky eater but after a long talk Tommy tells him the truth and Evan makes it his mission to help Tommy overcome all of it. The 118 and Tommy had all coordinated to have a night at Tommys place because of his nice backyard but when they arrive and Tommy doesn’t answer the door they start to worry finally, Evan pulls out the spare key from under the fake plant in front of Tommy’s door he opens the door expecting to find maybe a sick Tommy who didn’t want to go to work that day or sleeping on the couch after an exhausting shift. They don’t expect to find Tommy on the floor overdosing on pain pills with his wrist slit and the floor bloody after the shock fades away they all burst through the door running immediately goes straight to Tommy trying to get him to respond to him. He doesn’t get a response call 911. Tommy is taking away in an ambulance with Evan, holding his hand, the whole ride to the hospital, the 118 in the respective cars following them. after what felt like hours and they’re waiting room they’re allowed to go see him. Evan takes the charge leading them into the room. He almost burst into tears at the site of Tommy looking so frail and small in the hospital bed, drowning in the hospital gown with his arms covered in wraps to prevent him from making them worse a tube down his throat. He doesn’t wake up for a couple days when he does he won’t look at anyone or speak to anyone. He just faces the wall after trying to get him to speak, Evan finally just lays down next to him, taking his hand under Tommy’s head and facing him towards him, Tommy head on his chest. Tommys sobs echoing out the room as he apologizes over and over saying that he didn’t mean it and he’s sorry, Evan holding him while shushing him telling Tommy its okay and hes here. After a while in the hospital with Tommy now conscious and a-lot of hesitation he agrees to have a NJ tube inserted, the process is uncomfortable but it helps him. After a long time of much needed space from their friends and family he decided to go with Evan to the family barbecue at Bathena’s new rebuilt home, everyone welcomes him excited to see him looking better and feeling better, once the news travels that Tommy is there everyone packs into the living room to get a hug out of him when jee runs up to him screaming “UNCLE TOMMYY” while jumping into his arms about how much she missed him and maddie taps her shoulder saying “show uncle Tommy what you got him” jee runs away from a confused Tommy and brings him a gift bag and yells at him to open it, when he does he almost immediately starts crying as he found a build-a-bear in the bag dressed as a firefighter but its the little detail that makes the tears flow the bear he has a NJ too “Do u wike it?” “I love it jee come here” he hugs his niece with his bear in his arms when she asks if they can go play on the swings now he laughs but before he can say yes buck intervenes telling jee to help him do something really quick and they come back with a strip of tubie tape that matches the one Tommy is wearing to fit the bear. Jee says “you match!”

Every time jee and uncle Tommy hang out he makes sure to bring an extra strip of his tubie tape so she can help him make them match.

[redwiccanrobin]

In the episode that features Monica’s funeral, Frank gives a speech. He goes up and says with as much love as he can about how Monica changed his life. How she taught him to live. It’s weirdly sweet for Frank. But the moment I wanted to talk about is that the cameras centers Ian as Frank says this.

He looks contemplative. Like there’s a vision in his mind that he can’t ignore. That vision is Mickey. There’s probably regret and guilt racking through him as well. Regret that he left that man he loves at the border. Probably wondering what would have happened if he had just gone with him. Because he wants to be with Mickey. Guilt that the man sitting next to him is nowhere near that level. Even though he wants to try with him.

Mickey caused a spark in Ian. A coursing love that consumed him even when they were at odds. He was safety and a thrill all at the same time for Ian. Ian found someone he was sexually, romantically, and platonically compatible with. Mickey held him tight when he walked him out of that jail cell. Mickey held him tight before he walked into that hospital. Mickey crawled into bed, said sorry for disappearing for a while, kissed his head. Mickey forgave him for all the things he did whilst manic. Things that hurt Mickey in ways that Ian never wanted to do. Because he understood that Ian wasn’t in the right frame of mind.

There’s a parallel between Frank/Monica and Ian/Mickey. Not because they’re similar. But because they’re opposites. Yes, Mickey taught Ian how to live. Yes, Mickey was the light that Ian needed. He was everything that Frank described Monica as for Ian. But the difference is the way Ian and Mickey take care of each other.

Frank and Monica encouraged self-destruction in each other. Frank always had this fear when Monica would be on her meds. Almost like he was afraid that if she was stable she would realize the kind of man he is and leave for good. Of course, she’s still a grown woman with agency. She was in charge of her mental health and chose not to take care of it and let it run amok. But seeing how excited Frank got when she was acting “crazy” emboldened her further to not take her meds. Monica encouraged Frank’s drinking and drug use. In that speech he gave, Frank revealed that it was Monica that introduced him to hard drugs. The rest is history. She liked him getting high or drunk as she saw it as thrilling. Like Monica, Frank is an adult who had the ability to get sober. He never took it though. A lot of that stems from the “fun” he had with Monica.

The main difference is that Mickey and Ian want to be the best versions of each other. And they encouraged the other to do the same. When Ian was diagnosed with bipolar, Mickey was the most supportive and caring of his situation. Even when they went into married life, we see subtle signs that Mickey still makes sure that Ian is taking care of himself. There’s even a deleted scene where he checks in on Ian; asking if he was okay, noting that his husband was slipping into a depressive episode, made sure he was taking his medication. Unlike Frank, Mickey isn’t afraid of Ian having a stable footing. He wants that because he doesn’t want Ian to suffer. Ian can talk Mickey down like no one else can. With both the situation with Terry and Mickey’s anxiety about moving to the West Side, Ian offered emotional support. He listened to his husband, knew all the ways to calm Mickey. He doesn’t want Mickey to spiral and to instead stay afloat. Unlike Monica, Ian doesn’t encourage the destructive side of Mickey for his own fun. He wants the happy Mickey who feels comfortable with voicing his emotions.

Mickey and Ian have their problems. Every couple does. Sometimes, they don’t handle it the right way. But, when the storm passes, they take a breath and talk to one another. Making it clear they still love each other. They accept each other at their worst. They encourage each other at their best.

[bowlolol]

so.. wotfi.

I’m kidding, I’m not disappointed lol.

this was so fun to watch bro. I loved it.

spoiler warning!!

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idk how to do the “spoiler below the cut” thing so sorry if this is too long or too short

Anyways, I would rate this wotfi a 9.1/10

It was great, story-wise. I loved the concept and the ending. Mostly. More on that later.

the character designs are so yummy ong… I’m aroace but smg3’s design almost turned me straight (/j)

But seriously, the clown designs were so cool, and I love how they made Mr Puzzles look.

execution wise? I think it went pretty well. the animation was AMAZING. Genuinely so cool, especially the little animations that showed the challenges. the episode itself felt a bit rushed. Not rushed as in production, I mean like the pacing was pretty fast. But, honestly, this is my biggest gripe with it, and it isn’t that bad.

The song was so fire… like it went SO HARD. I wasn’t looking at chat most of the time, but I bet y’all went about as crazy as I did. Amazing. I’ve loved all the songs in the Mr Puzzles saga so far. If I had to compare it to last year’s rap, I think I like this one slightly more.

The scene with Meggy and little puzzles almost made me cry.. ong…

But, that brings us to the ending. Mr Puzzles almost being slightly redeemable and then getting punched was funny, but made me a bit mad the first time I watched it. His poor inner child bro.

but.. yeah, I like the fact he got admitted to a mental hospital. That’s funny. I think the only thing they could have done better there is just killing him, but they probably have more of a story to tell with him. And I respect that.

one of the problems I have that I think nobody else cares about is how it became Meggy centric towards the end. Yes, Meggy totally deserved that, but I was hoping for it to be slightly more about smg4. It isn’t really that serious though. I don’t really care that much, the ending was cool :)

speaking of endings, what was that ominous shot of the tender tunnel about? hmmm…. (I’m going insane over lack of smg34 help me)

I don’t know, I just think that it was weird that of all the things the camera could have been pointed at, it was at the tender tunnel.

but, in all seriousness, we could get a follow-up about 4 taking some stuff from puzzle park and using it in the showgrounds. Maybe it’ll get its own episode, with the stuff acting up since it was all really made to capture the crew.

anyways, that’s just my opinion. I LOVED this wotfi so much, and it makes me so happy to see that you guys liked it too :3

[mustfindcreativeusername]

(maybe scroll past if you love love bbc sherlock)

Me: honestly i fucking hate bbc sherlock by this point i mean yeah i loved the first two seasons loved loved loved them but then it haaad to get so complicated but still i could live with season 3 but wtf was s4??? And why did they have to... Do. That. Why make me hate even one John Watson i love my Watsons why did you make him a piece of shit in the last season, texting another woman to the point he considers it cheating is one thing i mean depends on the texts but that's forgivable it was just texting after all, anyway that's one thing but he blamed Sherlock so much for Mary's death when she!! She!! Jumped in front of the bullet to save him. It was her decision (why did she have to be a mega spy? Why did she have to surgery-shoot Sherlock. It wasn't as safe as she thought he literally died and came back and if the ambulance had come a couple minutes later he would 100% be dead wtf and he forgave her too) it was Mary's decision to sacrifice herself for Sherlock and he blamed him to the point where he basically internalises that Sherlock killed her. And i understand needing time alone or whatever but mrs hudson said he's sick, john, pls come see him and he was like yeah whatever sure if you insist ig.

Oh and . Yeah. He fucking. Beat. Him .Up??? Not punch him -haha funny- not hit him once, or even twice. No. He fucking beat him up. With punches and kicks and stuff. While he was looking at him like. Not quite believing. That his friend, "best friend" would do that to him. And yeah him being on drugs would have contributed but he ended up in the hospital?? After john beat him up. I didn't watch that episode in a while but i don't remember john being extremely remorseful or worried afterwards. He saw that cd from mary and only then he was like, "oh no my friend". Your friend. Your friend who would do literally anything for you. Your friend who a couple days later hugged you while you were crying. Did you even hug back? Did you ever apologize? I don't remember. He might've. But i dont remember it. And sherlock forgave him. Just like that. Worse even. I don't really think that he was that mad at him in the first place. Heartbroken, yes. Did you see his face? When john was beating him up? He wasn't even in his right mind, mega on drugs and stuff, and he'd just had a 'that is not the person i met' moment, tma fans wink wink, he was not well and you beat him up. You're a doctor too. Ha. Your best friend, the one who would do anything for you, die, kill, make himself sick to save your mental health or whatever was going on in that episode. In the following episode, days later really, he's made to choose to kill either his brother, HIS BROTHER, or John, and both Sherlock and Mycroft immediately, instinctively know that he's not gonna kill John. He loves him too much. I never really got it the first time around, the first time i watched. It's insane - Sherlock's devotion to John. He literally loves him above anything else, including himself. And I'm not a shipper. Oh i am usually a johnlock shipper but not them. I do still think they belong together but man oh man i hope john groveled. Why did they have to do that. Make us, make me hate john watson. I loved him. In the first two seasons, i really really loved him, he was my blorbo, well, the word blorbo didn't exist yet but he was. And i have a list somewhere titled 'heartbreakingly raw lines' and it's honestly mostly about the delivery of those lines and  "no, he's my friend, he's my friend, please" is right there, nr 1. Nr 2 is close, it's from good omens, bookshop fire, also about a friend, you get it, and after these two there's a biig big big gap before the third. Those two are supreme, nr 2 is so so so heartbreaking but it did not even compete with nr 1. To this day if i recall that scene, those lines, "let me come through please, no, he's my friend, he's my friend, please " i feel sick. My stomach is twisting right now, as i write. I loved john. I loved their relationship. Friendship, whatever, autocorrect asked me if thats what i wanna say. Why ruin his character? Just to be edgy? Why would you make him beat up his best friend, that!! friend. Oh and then, once they did make him do that,  just gloss over the fact. I'm not even saying make Sherlock be mad at him. That bitch loves him to the point it's almost pathetic. But there are other ways. How can you just gloss over that. He punched him several times, he kicked him while he was down. I'm sitting here thinking "what a piece of shit, punch a wall if you're that angry, i get being heartbroken about your wife, and feeling guilty, and overwhelmed, but that is no excuse". Why do i have to call any John Watson a piece of shit. Hell, why do i have to call this one a piece of shit, i fucking loved him. 

That's the one thing i do really really hate about that show. They did a lot of other stuff, all the characters were edgy-ified and made a little worse, as opposed to the ones from the books (lestrade is fine actually) but it doesn't upset me too much, i just see it as its own show instead of an adaptation adaptation and yeah, really not that upset. And i didn't really notice at first but there was queerbaiting wasn't it. I mean there were just a little too many jokes. I guess. I did see it when i rewatched it. Still. I never really saw them together, yk? Like yeah, together forever, but not as a couple. Needless to say i was very happy when like two years after i first watched it i learned about QPRs. Like yeah yeah that's what i meant. So it had a lot of flaws i guess but stuff you could get past, yk. And the first two seasons really were amazing, i wanted to snort them. But i am glad i was only vaguely familiar with the stories when i watched it, i think i would've liked it a lot less. I mean acd Sherlock Holmes is such a nice man, he's a sweetie honestly, he giggles and rubs his hands together when there's a clue, and yeah he's got some 'get to the point' moments but he's not an asshole. He monologues about flowers at some point. I love bbc Sherlock (the character) too, i really do, but he can be a bit of a prick. Intentionally, not bc he doesn't realise it. Did he just decide one day he was a sociopath and leaned into it or what. That high functioning sociopath thing was just him being dramatic, we're not actually supposed to believe he was, right? God i haven't thought- really thought - about this show in a while. And i can't believe i thought for so long we were getting a s5. After how s4 ended? That was a "soo they had many more adventures but this is where we part ways with them, byyeeee" ending. Did you know, tv time had it listed as "to be continued"/ a running show for so long after s4 ended. So so long. After like 4 years i made my peace and I'm pretty sure even then it was listed as running. I checked on it again some time ago, a year or two ago and it was finally listed as finished and i felt both disappointed and relieved. Like if your loved one has been missing for years and years and you finally find out they're dead. You kinda knew that but.. deep down... But still, you're relieved to know. Well maybe not exactly like that. Tv time isn't the ultimate authority, but. No, you know what it felt like? Passing a corpse every now and then and one day seeing that they've been layed to rest in a grave. And maybe it's for the best. S4 did so much damage, I'm not taking good, owie my heart, damage, i mean ruining John, and... making the dog a boy??? I'm not gonna talk about the whole Eurus thing bc i did like one aspect of it (horrible labirinth with really fucked up decisions to be made. I never saw any saw movies [lol. Saw saw] but that's what they're like right?) but yeah just make her an actual supernatural force at this point. The fuck. So maybe it's for the best. Not getting a s5. I've made my peace a long time ago and as i said, I'm starting to feel like i harbour some sort of hate for this show. Not the "i wish I'd never watched it" kind, not the "tf what did i ever see in it" kind either (s1 and 2 my loves) but it is a hate nonetheless. I'm glad I've moved on from it.

People on the internet: omg they're talking about making bbc Sherlock season 5!

Still me: omg omg no wayyy yess pleaseee maybe everything will be fixed and nice and cute yesss gimme gimme 

[johannestevans]

i wanted to write a BIG essay on disability in House MD but the thing is that as it goes on the show plays and delves with the themes a bit differently - like in s1 they begin to introduce some addict stuff but not too much, and much less of the big grapples with house's own medical agency etc by his friends and coworkers

so i think i'm gonna do an essay series, set up some main themes around disability and autonomy in house

the first things will obviously be about the nature of house's own disability, firstly talking about his physical disability - yes, the lack of mobility from his leg and his reliance on his cane, and also the chronic pain that that comes with, but also specifically noting that house became disabled later in life and was previously extremely physically active

while the themes of house being an addict are extremely overstated because of the us' manufactured opioid crisis and its dehumanisation of addicts due to its racist and eugenicist "war on drugs", it's also noteworthy that he used to exercise all day every day on top of fucking and playing with substances on the side. no one minded this because his "addiction" to exercise was fun and sexy and healthy, bc he was making his own pain-killing substances rather than taking a pill

and then also talking about house's mental health issues - evidence of his autism and the way that people hate specifically his autistic traits, even when they're not actually causing them problems, and the way in which house masks and performs certain emotional responses, but more so like. his depression and his loss of identity as a disabled man, and his difficulties being OKAY with his disability when everyone around him hates disability

so apart from that evidence, the points of house grappling with this stuff will be:

house bonding with other disabled patients - in cases of chronic pain, lost physical mobility, and also mental illness and/or neurodivergence

and house specifically understanding disabled people's perspectives, or thinking about the PRACTICAL needs of the person they're treating or engaging with rather than what society cares about or what the hospital thinks is "appropriate" or "proper"

house bullying abled people for being Weird

times where house makes commentary about the injustice of the system (when he points out that the hospital is designed not to treat the poor, chronically sick, etc)

house being anxious and defensive of his own bodily autonomy (eg when ppl are trying to control his pain management or force him into systems that don't work, take over his medical autonomy, in general try to physically control his behaviours)

esp bc season 1 culminates in the stacy episode where we find that like... so much of house's trauma is not just being disabled

but the fact that stacy OVERRODE his desires, waiting for him to be put into a medically induced coma so that she could make "the best" decision for him and literally being the cause of his current disability. esp bc like...

she specifically went for the middle ground that he rejected, she was NOT a doctor

and in so doing she. invented his chronic pain. like there's a reason that in that same episode, we see the volleyball player who gets an amputation and is able to go back to sports - yes, house is a lot older than that volleyball player, but like

if he had either treated the infarction successfully or just got an amputation so that he could later work with a prostheses, house thinks he would have done much better

and so much of his TERROR around trusting others - not just stacy but wilson, cuddy, anybody else - is because of that. the one person he loved and trusted overrode his desires and created the hell he lives in where he's just in constant agony and he hates it, and the worst part is like

everyone tells him it's his fault. no one cares about what stacy did to him, that she manipulated him. every day they tell house how terrible it is that he does that to others, but when it's what happened to him and he lives in hell, it's on him because he's Mean and Too Autistic and he should just Stop Being In Pain etc

god it kills me.

BUT YEAH i think. season by season is gonna be a lot better to track the development of these themes and the way they shift and change from season to season - also idefk if i'll be able to stick with like. the last three seasons bc they just suck so ba dhfskjjgh

BUT WE'LL SEE

[magpod-confessions]

As someone who has trauma regarding being a patient in a mental hospital, I did not find Wonderland House that scary. "Oooh here's a mental healthcare professional that GAAAASSSLLIIIGHTS YOOUUUU" yeah you mean like a good chunk of the ones you have to endure while you're trying to find one that actually listens to you? "Oooky spooky, the mental hospital MIIIISSTREEEATS YOUUUU and DOOOESSSNNN'TTT BELIEVE YOUUUU but it also WON'T LET YOU LEEEEAAAAVEEE!" yes, like how they usually work from my experience. This isn't to say the episode was bad- it wasn't, I did like it, it was written and performed well -but I don't remember it really shaking me in any way. I find Rosie's episode to be much more impactful and interesting. Probably because I haven't lived it, but also because "secretary to the apocalypse" is QUITE a concept.

.

[bubblez-bubble]

Everyone in Fairy Tail represents a disorder and/or an illness (either physical and/or mental). And Fairy Tail never happened, it's a hospital, and Fairy Tail takes place in one of the patients minds as part of their disorder.

Here me out.

This is going to be a tribute to National Suicide Prevention Month as a reminder everyone has their own battle to face and never assume you know what's going on from the outside looking in. (Also disclaimer: none of this is canon. It's a fan-based headcanon and some representation may be off, but as someone who studies psychology and personal/mental health in their free time in an attempt to better understand myself, I'm going to try to be as accurate as possible and try to give as much detail as I can.) If you or a loved one is struggling for any reason, don't be afraid to reach out and seek answers or help. Your silence is not worth a life. Especially yours. If you're like me and seeking professional medical help is out of your reach for any reason, be it financially or otherwise, contact your local suicide prevention hotline for free accessible 24-hour help. You may be fighting what feels like a losing battle, but you don't have to fight it alone. And just remember, everyone is fighting their own fight. So please don't give up and just hold on tight. And know if you don't have anyone else in your corner, I will be.

Now onto the headcanon.

For now I'll just be doing the main team (post nirvana), but let me know if you'd be interested in seeing what the characters may represent.

Also I'll be doing brief break downs of these characters. If you'd like a full synopsis on a particular character let me know!

Natsu- Binge Eating Disorder and Intermittent Explosive Disorder

First let's look at the definitions.

Binge Eating Disorder or BED is when a person unhealthily over consumes excessively large quantities of food in one sitting or during a single meal.

Intermittent Explosive Disorder or IED is a mental disorder that can cause frequent, sudden, or impulsive episodes of anger. It can be categorized with road rage, domestic abuse, THROWING OR BREAKING OJECTS, TEMPER TANTRUMS, FREQUENT VERBAL ARGUMENTS, FREQUENT PHSYICAL FIGHTING, and PROPERTY DAMAGE.

There are two things Natsu is most known for in universe: picking a fight whenever and where ever and always feeling hungry. In almost every meal we see him have seen him eat, he eats in exaggerated large quantities. And yes you can argue that it's because his magic is so demanding plus his physical upkeep (training) is probably the reason for this. However, none of the other dragon slayers indulge like this, with the exception of Sting and Rogue during their guilds annual eating contest. He's also extremely prone to losing his temper, picking fights, and destroying everything within about a 20 mile radius. Which you could say that this personality trait compliments his magic, but that part actually ties into the headcanon itself. Let me explain. The person who's imagining all of this from the hospital sees Natsu's disorders and decides the perfect way for him to fit into their little imaginary world and by being a fire wizard. Fire perfectly compliments Natsu's anger issues and gives him a reason to eat so excessively in this person's mind so his body can keep up with the extra calories it's constantly burning.

Erza - PTSD

PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a mental disorder that can develop after a person experiences or witnesses a traumatic event and vary based on severity. It can often make its victims irritable, hostile, hypervigilant, self-destructive, and even socially isolated or feeling awkward. It can cause flashbacks, severe anxiety, a feeling of mistrust in others and can even cause feelings of guilt and/or loneliness. It can bring about nightmares and insomnia and can cause emotional detachment and an increase in intrusive thoughts or impulsive actions. Two of the most common causes of PTSD are military trauma and abuse. And perhaps Erza experienced both.

Erza is a strong willed character who often has flashbacks of her time in the tower of heaven. She can often find it hard to trust others for a time, but sympathizes with those who felt the same pain and torment she did in the tower. She usually tries to remain calm but can at times have extreme outbursts of anger and always seems to be weary and hyper aware of her surroundings. It's rare to see her let her guard down which she seems to do very well with the women and not as well with the men (with the exception of Natsu, Gray, and Makrov). This attitude seems to shift after Alvarez as she seems more distant and hostile with new females introduced than she is with the new men introduced afterwards. This could be due to Erza being abandoned and nearly killed by her own mother which was revealed in the Alverez arc.

Gray - OCD

OCD or Obessive Compulsive Disorder is usually defined as a need to be clean all of the time as well as everything around you. Depending on the severity of the disorder it can make you feel as though nothing is ever clean enough from the floor you're standing on to the CLOTHES YOU WEAR.

Gray is often seen without his clothes straight down to his skippies and in some instances even without them. Yes its explained in Gray's flashbacks to childhood that this is because this was how his master, Ur, trained him as a child and that those teachings were drilled so deep into his head that he just strips subconsciously. During a fight or when using magic. But what about normally when he's just relaxing. If it were instilled him that hard, then shouldn't Lyon be the same way? But to our knowledge, he isn't. The only time we've seen him do the same is in battle. The truth is Gray continues to do so because being trained to strip down to the bare minimum for battle gave him a comfortable feeling that he hadn't felt before and for the first time in his life, he started feeling comfortable in his own skin. Now as an adult, even if that's not the case anymore, it still happens subconsciously usually when he starts feeling some levels of stress. It's often common for those with OCD to comply to their urges, subconsciously or not, when they feel some kind of stress. It could be anxiety, excitement, rage, etc.

Wendy - Neotenic Complex Sydrome

Neotenic Complex Sydrome (NCS) or forever baby sydrome is a rare condition that makes one appear as if they aren't aging at all. In most cases this can make a grown person appear to be a toddler or even younger. In some less severe cases, it can cause an adult to simply look like a child.

Wendy is the only character in Fairy Tail we never see grow or change except in experience and power. Even after 2 whole years after the Tenrou incident she doesn't grow "even an inch" according to Wendy herself. Even Auska, the youngest member of Fairy Tail seems to be growing over those 2 years, but Wendy remains the same. We do see her as a child and she has clearly grown from childhood, however, Sting and Rogue were meant to be the same age as Wendy. In Anna's flashback we see all 5 dragon slayers as children and despite Wendy most probable to be the oldest, (W - Feb 27th, S - April 25th, R - unknown other than he was born the same year as wendy and Sting, so I say most probable to be the oldest because she was born at the start of the year and it's likely Rogue was born later in the year), she's still the smallest of the three. You can argue that girls are inherently smaller than boys, but that's not always the case. In fact as children it's quite often that girls are actually bigger than boys. And it tends to be true that your age shows better as a child and less so as you get older. So if Wendy was born first, shouldn't she have had the most time to grow and be bigger than Sting and Rogue?

Happy - Therapy Animal

Happy doesn't so represent a disorder as he does the hospitals therapy animal. More often than not, Happy gives comfort to those around him as a therapy animal would do in a hospital. He's particularly close to two of the patients, Natsu obviously as he seems to know just what to tell Natsu to get him to calm down long enough to listen when he notices things are starting to get out of hand. And the other will make sense when we get to them. In the hospital outside of the imaginary world of the other patient, Happys just a normal cat who goes to each patient to comfort them and help them come to terms with their disorders. He can even at times experience their disorders with them to create a visual for the patient about what their disorder is and how it can affect them and those around them. Which could be why we often see him indulge himself with eating when he's with Natsu specifically.

Carla/Charle - Doctor

Like Happy, Carla more plays a role than has a disorder. She's the hospitals doctor. She's the most realistic of the bunch and is the only one that has two forms. Human and exceed. Her exceed form would protane to her being a doctor trained to only one profession. As we know she grew up with Wendy, so in the hospital, it's quite possible that she was Wendy's doctor growing up and was the one in charge of her treatments and that's why she's so protective of Wendy. She later would become the doctor for the whole team as Wendy was now healthy enough to be introduced to other people with little to no consequence and it would be much easier to group the patients that spend a lot of time together with the same doctor. But of course she would have to further her education and training to be able to handle the other conditions of the other patients. So she evolved. And that's how we got human Carla/Charle. Because now she's trained in more than one profession so she has more than one form.

And last but most certainly not least...

Lucy - Schizophrenia

Schizophrenia is a mental disorder that can cause hallucinations, delusions, or even cause the patient to recede into their own mind that can cause disorganized thinking and behavior.

The story of Fairy Tail is told from Lucy's perspective. I've seen the theories and the headcanons that the story is simply one that takes place in Lucy's mind as she's writing about it. And that's what got me thinking about this whole thing. The 7 years on Tenrou was a 7 year coma Lucy herself endured and when she woke up, everyone she knew when she went under was still there, including Wendy who hadn't changed at all hence why she had to be at least one of the wizards to go to Tenrou Island for the s-class trials, despite being a newcomer, the youngest member of the guild, and a child. In order to make this happen, Lucy had to imagine her with a rare magic type to ensure her spot on the s-class trials and since Little Wendy wants to be a doctor as an adult, her magic reflects that making her the sky dragon slayer and a healer. While this doesn't explain why no one else aged in her mind, it could be that she just didn't want to think time kept moving for her friends so she froze them in time along with her so she didn't have to feel she missed on their adventures. In her mind, when time stopped for her, it stopped for everyone in the hospital, at least all of the patients. Because Wendy never ages she assumed that because Wendy hadn't aged, neither had anyone else. Now wouldn't Happy as a normal cat be noticeably aged. Nope. The original Happy died a long time ago and was replaced with a similar looking cat who they've also chose to name Happy for those who can't or find it hard to adapt to change. Or it could be they simply chose to replace Happy when he got old for that same reason. To keep the illusion that nothing was changing for those who couldn't handle it or have a hard time doing so. So in Lucy's fantasy, nothing changed for any of the patients in 7 years while she was under. The entire story is an adventure Lucy is imagining while the hospital undergoing treatment. And as someone with schizophrenia, she sees the treatments and medications as an enemy that needs to be defeated that they're all fighting together. And Zeref (at least in the OG series) is a phsycatrist, who became one to initially help his younger brother watching his parents struggle to take care of him and his needs, which made him the number one enemy in Lucy's mind. The demons from the books of Zeref were pych students in training, including Natsu, who has been a patient so long as well as her friend that Lucy can't accept it and continues to see him as one of her friends who's just fighting off his demon side further complicating their relationship in universe. Her celestial spirits are her imaginary friends that help her and tell her how to fight off the medication and treatments, and when she sacrificed Aquarius for the Celestial Spirit King, she was actually choosing to start to get better by giving up her most beloved imaginary friend and taking the medication. She later decided she couldn't go through with it and chooses to "find Aquarius" again. Her magic also correlates to her real life personality as gazing at the stars and finding the constellations was the only thing that made her feel "normal" and was one of her favorite things to do, so she named her imaginary friends after the constellations and her magic to do with summoning them to help her fight her enemies.

I know this all seems far-fetched and I tired to be as sensitive to each disorder as I could giving enough descriptive details trying not to make this too long. I did extensive reasearch on each disorder before decidibg to share this and even share a few of them myself. But this has been brewing in my head for years and I feel the most comfortable place for me to share is online with a bunch of strangers. Again if you want a full synopsis with extensive detail on any of these characters or any of the others from the show, then let me know! I'd be happy to go into this deeper if anyone's interested!

And remember, if you ask for help, you aren't burdening anyone. This post is also a reminder that everyone is struggling with something even if you can't see it. Don't be afraid to reach out if you're struggling. There is another way out. Don't give up. You are strong. You are loved. Your life is worth more than your silence. 🧡💛

[atomicradiogirl]

house md christmas episodes ranked with commentary:

s1e5 damned if you do:

overall: 4.5/5

medical case/patient interest/plot twist: 4/5 pretty interesting patient and case plus the copper IUD allergy twist was sooo smart

hilson: 4.5/5 they had christmas dinner together <3

medical malpractice: 2/5. house’s mistakes were rectified by cuddy, minimal antireligious remarks against nuns, no breaking and entering. house prescribed a patient cigarettes.

christmas spirit: 5/5 christmas songs used throughout and a patient was santa. as christmassy as it can get.

s2e9 deception:

overall: 3/5

medical case/patient interest/plot twist: 3/5 interesting concept but the overall twist wasn’t that shocking or interesting and i didn’t really connect with the patient all that much

hilson: 1/5. they have 2 interactions and they’re all cordial but nothing too special.

medical malpractice: 4.5/5 breaking and entering and obvious HIPAA violations. house flirting with lab staff to get what he wants. house falsified blood tests. poor treatment of a suspected mentally ill patient. house drugged a patient outside of hospital grounds with the risk that it could kill her.

christmas spirit: 1/5 just because it’s christmas time and there are decorations and it’s snowing does NOT make it a christmas episode. there is one christmas song at the end but no one says merry christmas. they wasted my TIME.

s3e10 merry little christmas:

overall: 3.5/5

medical case patient interest/plot twist: 4/5 interesting patients and commentary about disabilities and being “normal” and parenting as a disabled person.

hilson: 2/5 tritter arc plus wilson’s betrayal is so… but i love angst. at least they interact this time. wilson refuses to testify against him though. wilson still wants to spend christmas with house “thought you’d prefer people over pills” but house rejects him :( house ODs on oxy and wilson leaves him alone

medical malpractice: 3.5/5 house makes fun of little people. breaking and entering. HIPAA violation plus being rude to a grieving widow but he’s detoxing so i guess it makes sense. house tries to steal oxy from a dead man.

christmas spirit: 4/5 christmas songs used plus lot of decorations plus snow. christmas tree opening and PPTH has a whole nativity scene in the lobby. tritter wishes house a merry christmas.

s4e10 it’s a wonderful lie:

overall: 4/5

medical case patient interest/plot twist: 2/5 didn’t really care but it went along with house’s “everybody lies” philosophy. house performs a christmas miracle yayyy. the twist was cool

hilson: 4/5 “you are so full of love… or something” they’re so :) they interact a lot in this episode. “happy solstice house” :-)

medical malpractice: 3.5/5 why are foreman and taub questioning people?? house and a patient flirt? going through a patient’s computer.

christmas spirit: 4/5 house throws away all the diagnostic room christmas decorations. christmas songs used. secret santa!!! wilson in the reindeer hat!!!!! “you wouldn’t hang dreidels from a christmas tree” “you could”. house singing “god rest ye merry gentlemen”. house had a christmas epiphany!

s5e11 joy to the world:

overall: 3.5/5

medical case patient interest/plot twist: 3.5/5 general patient case isn’t that interesting but the clinic case of virgin conception was CRAZY (even though it was faked by house but whatever)

hilson: 4/5 wilson’s gift and note “greg - made me think of you” and an antique medical book?? that is sooo cute. also the way that wilson lied about a girl giving house the original gift because he was probably embarrassed to admit it was his but then he admitted it hehehe. house didn’t even open the original present.

medical malpractice: 2/5 shockingly minimal but house did fake a patient’s test results just to win a bet with wilson. cuddy does breaking and entering.

christmas spirit: 4/5 christmas music used. house says merry christmas. i mean it’s christmassy but not like that christmassy.