#i'm CERTAIN he works in europe

[sleepynegress]

*sigh* Featurism...

So, I woke up to this shit on the Twit app and I've only hit on this issue before, but today I'm digging in. Colorism is something that is not addressed often enough, but intersected within that and even more rarely spoken about, is the issue of featurism. The young actress above just got cast as Juliet in the latest big staged prestige production of Romeo and Juliet, opposite Tom Holland. And as usual the blue-checks, everybody else including "black", and even Black regulars are all-in on the cruelty.

...But I want to breakdown a nuance that is too often skipped over when this happens. The two people named with her, give away the featurism game, here; a particularly nasty form of often internalized racism. I guarantee if the young actress looked like this?

She'd definitely still get racist attacks, but the particularly nasty shit I'm seeing attacking her looks wouldn't come. In fact, I could see some people thinking they are defending her with "but she's pretty!" or more specific... "obviously she's mixed" comments. -Something pretty much every Black woman with features that don't align with a narrow perception of blackness hear often (and we'll get to why I specified women in a minute). And don't get it twisted...

These aren't exclusively nor standard white features either (see: the many ethnic features w/in white ethnic groups that also get hit to a lesser and non-racialized degree such as large "hook" and/or Romanesque noses for example, which is definitely about anti-semitism, anti-Romani sentiment, and other disparaged/discriminated against ethnic minorities in Europe) and yes, blue eyes are naturally occurring within non-mixed and dark-skinned Black people due to a mutation called Waardenburg syndrome. But there is a REASON why fetishizing even certain ethnic features within the African continental diaspora has been a thing for a long time...i.e. "the dopest Ethiopian" from the Tribe Called Quest lyric is pictured as this:

and this:

and not this:

...despite them all being Ethiopians of various tribal ethnicities.

A wide-nose, a tighter curl, coil, or zig-zag pattern of hair, fuller lips and often, but not always (because I've given examples above where features "mitigate" skin color) darker skin. Zendaya is grouped with Tracey and Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, despite being both lighter in skin color and having a Black parent and a white parent because her nose isn't what has become the standard surgical look...that too many celebs have. This includes the ones who got so-called "ethnic" work or just a slight 'refinement'. No, her nose is born w/it, made for that good African air, as I call it. Nostrils prominent, nose bridge wide:

I went make-up free as well, because even make-up practices these days, go for that narrowing highlight technique i.e. just below it's subtle.

Sza is a an example of it taken to extremes, even with the Hollywood standard "ethnic" refinement she did get.

The thing is... I don't blame or attack her for that. Because you see above that is just a taste of what happens. Lil' Kim was relentlessly bullied by the men in her life for her ethnic features for her whole life...and that is why she is off-limits to this day for me when it comes to all the work she's had done.

...And this is where I explain why I specified men being mostly exempt. It's because "Blackness" including all the physical features associated with it, is by default masculinized. ...Which is why Idris Elba is considered one of the most handsome men in the world, w/o the caveats that even Lupita Nyong'o often gets. Nobody calls Samuel L. Jackson ugly. He is even idolized and fetishized by a specifically white male gaze for how culturally "Black" he is perceived to be for all the wrong reasons, his signature "motherfucka" for example (and I could go off on a whole other tangent here, but digressing). All this to say... Featurism sucks. It's not talked about enough. Blackness in all variations is Beautiful. Tracy Chapman looking as young she does?? Hell, mark it down to both her dark skin (a natural UV protector) and not messing with her given features (and being a lesbian, men will age you. lol -I got jokes-):

P.S. THANK GOODNESS for Tems and her rising prominence as a beauty as well:

P.P.S. Even Jay-Z the billionaire rapper has had the comments over the years about his lips and nose, hence that lyric in Beyonce's Formation.

[darthlenaplant]

Yoshi? YOSHI? That cute dinosaur critter from Super Mario? THAT Yoshi? LMAO 😂😂😂😂😂���🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Oh, this is very interesting.

On a similar and maybe related thing, regarding the child labour laws, and also in the context of Reigen "underpaying" Mob, of course, I don't know Japans laws on this either, but I think that Japan actually does have or at least HAD a culture of "apprenticeship", quite similar to the system that is still a thing in Germany and Austria. I can only talk about the Austrian system, obviously 10 years IS too young to actually start an apprenticeship. 14/15 is the youngest where you can learn the trade at a company, combined with a visit once a week to a specialized school for the trade in question, as an alternative to going to middle and highschool.

You actually do earn money at it, but the so called "Lehrlingsentschädigung" (apprentice's wages) isn't really much (usually about half of a future full worker's wage, but depending on the trade that can be between 400€ and 1,400€ per month (also depending on the year you're in))

So if we see Mob as technically Reigen's apprentice, it COULD actually FIT (Here I calculated with 3€/hour instead of 300¥/hour, but in a monthly scale that'd still be 520€ per month, which is kinda making sense, it's not as Reigen is taking THAT MUCH money from his clients in the first place.)

Also, we shouldn't forget that he also pays for Mob's lunch (and early dinner).

In the super old ass times, there was also the concept of "Lehrgeld" (apprentice's due), so actually the fee the apprentice/student paid to his master to be taught in that particular trade. This evolved into the tuitition/school money parents nowadays pay to send their kids to school (only private schools tho, public schools don't have that fee, only a fee for the materials used, which is about what, 50€ to 200€ per YEAR(!) depending on what the school teaches)

Do you have any idea where the almost fandom-wide idea of Reigen commiting tax fraud/evading taxes is even coming from?

I mean, there's no real basis for that in the source material (as far as the Anime goes, haven't fully read the Manga tbch), so it gets kinda ANNOYING at this point that everyone here and on youtube seems to insist on it...

Like, SURE, he's a conman, but only in the sense of offering exorcisms/curse dispellings despite having no psychic powers whatsoever. Other than that, he seems to be keeping his paperwork in proper order?

I don’t know EXACTLY where it bloomed/came from, no. But, tax-fraud/evasion has always been a very meme’d crime, since the only “victim” is the government/IRS and it’s not violent, people love to joke about it all the time (I think I remember Yoshi being a victim of this meme trend as well.)

As funny as some people think it is to assume Reigen commits tax fraud/evasion, I would genuinely headcanon the opposite. I feel like Reigen would be the person who knows every single tax law and does them all perfectly by himself so that he doesn’t have to spend any money for someone to do it for him. Also, avoiding tax troubles would decrease the chances of his business being investigated, which would probably be a lot more ideal considering he is likely breaking some child labor laws, lol.

So yeah, that’s my take on it. It’s just people laying it on thick with a meme. But make no mistake—unless I’m wrong (because I haven’t read the manga either) it was never mentioned in canon that Reigen commits tax fraud/evasion.

Thank you for the ask!

(P.S. This is a obviously very American take on it, because it’s simply fooling around with a hc concept. I have 0 clue how taxes ACTUALLY work in Japan, so…)

[youremyheaven]

The Strictness of Saturn: Giga Chads, Scammers & Spiritual Gurus

Lately, I have been contemplating the energies of Saturn and how it manifests in men and it brought me to the realization that Saturnian men are the type of men that other men idolize and look up to. There are always certain male celebrities that other men fawn over but women dgaf about and they usually tend to be Saturnian as well. Why do men worship Saturnian men? For starters, the world we live is a deeply Saturnian one, with law and order, systems and regulations and structure. The general narrative is that in order to be successful in life, you have to "hustle and grind" and work hard and that you'll be rewarded for it. This is essentially the theme of Saturn. Saturn is also a masculine planet and a malefic. We live in a capitalist society where the working culture is designed with men in mind. Be it the 9 to 5 or the culture of conquest and domination (in business, politics, colonization etc) are all aggressively yang. You do all of it to make more profit to buy/accumulate more stuff, this is a deeply patriarchal worldview because yang energy is one that is fixated on "accumulation". Therefore to thrive in this world, its important to have a strong Saturn and the kind of people who thrive in this set up, aka men, look up to and admire other men who exemplify such Saturnian qualities.

I'm going to start with the most notorious example of this Saturn worship by men

Andrew Tate, Anuradha Sun & Moon

Tate's brand of hyper-toxic masculinity and his "hustler university" is so wildly misogynistic it's insane. Yet it appeals to many men.

In one video, Tate describes how he would deal with a woman who accused him of cheating: “It’s bang out the machete, boom in her face and grip her by the neck. Shut up bitch.” He’s argued that women are a man’s property, shouldn’t drive, and shouldn’t leave the home if they’re in a relationship. He claims only to date 18 and 19 year olds as it’s easier to “imprint” on them, and in a now deleted YouTube video, Tate claimed that “about 40 per cent” of the reason he moved to Romania is that he believed police in Eastern Europe would be less likely to pursue rape allegations.

Tate seems to represent the lifestyle that most men dream of (wealthy) and he presents himself as ultra masculine/alpha like which is every man's dream but the thing is extreme behaviour of any sort comes across like that person is overcompensating for something.

Machoism and machismo are what men use to signal to other men that they're not to be messed with. Its a very primitive display of behaviour that probably goes back to the cave men era where men had to rely on physical strength and brute force to survive. But no man who is actually secure in himself will feel the need to aggressively display his "masculinity" by spewing absolutely vile hateful nonsense against women or other people. Toxic masculinity is rooted in narcissism and self centeredness; these men want to be the best among men (more rich, more powerful, get more girls etc). Its a gross by product of male insecurity because truth be told men grossly overestimate the standards women have for their romantic partners.

they seem to have a scarcity mindset about how no women would want to be with a deadbeat ugly loser (i mean, duh) but believing that every single woman would only date 6’4” dudes with 12 abs and rolexes isn't true either. majority of heterosexual relationships feature a gorgeous girl with a guy who looks like a gnome. many women date absolutely hideous men who are broke just because they have sweet personalities and are nice to be around.

but male insecurity leads to incel behaviour because they believe that the reason women dont go for them is because they're ugly or broke when usually the reason women dont go for them is because theyre an asshole. by blaming women for not sleeping with them or dating them, they get to conveniently shift attention from the fact that they have absolutely nothing to offer and also, women dont owe charity sex to lame, rude, broke, ugly men?

men underestimate just how much personality matters. and by pretending that being the "alpha" will get them women, they're feeding their own masculine egos because women literally just want a guy who is sweet, texts them back regularly, listens to them and isn't a complete asshole. you never hear a woman talk about being into "alphas". its literally just a male fantasy that is completely severed from what real people are like or what real people want. its like how men believe the "Cool Girl" exists, they write female characters to be quirky, nerdy but above all hot and constantly feeding their male ego, they also write male characters to be macho, alpha, dominating other men and women because they want to be like these men.

anyways lol went off on a tangent (me with every post)

Saturn is considered a malefic not because of how it represents "karma" or "discipline" its because Saturn overdoes the strictness, commitment and discipline and "hard work" associated with it. You may work hard but you can't always tell if you're working hard enough or why your hard work isn't translating to results/rewards. That is the energy of Saturn. You overdo things and go beyond the extra mile. This may sound like a good thing because we live in a world that values these traits but it can manifest in many unpleasant ways bc pushing yourself that hard means risking burnout out and it's actually unhealthy to swing into such extremes? You can live a good life without living like a monk or a soldier which is what a lot of hustle/self-improvement coaches advocate for. This is a negative manifestation of Saturn; believing that deprivation, scarcity and harshness are the only way to get things done or that "tough love" is the answer.

Hunter Moore has a Saturn stellium (Mercury & Venus in UBP and Saturn in Anuradha)

He was a predecessor to Andrew Tate who posted intimate photos (some acquired through hacking, and many nonconsensually submitted) of women with their Facebook details on IsAnyoneUp.com (he's a convicted criminal)

He's an early example of a toxic masculine internet influencer who spewed misogyny and was worshiped by many dudebros.

Solar men may be Chads who just want to hang out with other men but they are NOT like these Saturnians. If we're going to think of Sun as the most masculine or "yang" planet, it also means they're masculine to the point of being almost feminine, if that makes sense? The qualities of preferring other male company, valuing male friendships and wishing to keep women at an arm's length (under the guise of "independence" or "non-attachment") are similar to behaviours shown by women described as a "girls girl". Solar people of either gender have a very welcoming, positive energy but they're often virtually sexless. (there are exceptions to everything ofc) but these are not people known for being highly sexually desirable. They're likable and have qualities/traits that make them "wanted" but Solar energy is too self-centered to be sexually appealing. Sun is the centre of our solar system, it's used to being the source of light and does not have the same need to achieve things the way Saturnians do for whom accomplishment has its origins in insecurity and the desire to overcompensate for what they lack. Solar ambition is rooted in their belief that they're the best and deserve to be at the top of the world and refusal to settle for anything less. Those are two very different approaches.

Tom Hardy, Uttaraphalguni Sun, Chitra Moon once said:

“A lot of people say I seem masculine, but I don’t feel it,” Hardy confessed. “I feel intrinsically feminine. I’d love to be one of the boys but I always felt a bit on the outside. Maybe my masculine qualities come from overcompensating because I’m not one of the boys.”

Tbh this could be a generalization but I feel like I have seldom seen Solar men present themselves as mega alpha hypermasculine figures. They are often perceived that way but they're not personally like that. They're more boyish, more youthful than aggressively "manly". They actually represent a more indulgent "frat boy" type of masculinity than the alpha male ideal presented by many Saturn men.

I'll cite some examples of famous men who are popular among men and not so much among women

Jason Momoa- Pushya Stellium (Sun, Mercury & Venus)

Men love to talk about him like he's a God or something because he represents the kind of masculinity that other men want to embody. 6'5 bulky beefcake build and has this uber-masculine personality.

Like all Saturnian men, he's also known for making crass, tasteless remarks like the time he said at ComicCon:

“But as far as sci-fi and fantasy, I love that genre because there are so many things you can do, like rip someone’s tongue out of their throat and get away with it and rape beautiful women"

In 2011 during an interview he said:

"Yeah, I’m raping Emilia [Clarke]” he said. “I love her, but I’m hurting her and she’s crying. We could have made it longer, but you get the idea. I’m not a rapist. I prefer my women to enjoy sex.”

All of these statements reek of the smug asshole Saturn alpha-chad vibes like he really thought he did something by saying it. You just know that he was saying it for other men to laugh to🤢🤮🤮

Saturnian men lack social grace and manners and are literal troglodytes

Sam Levinson- Pushya Moon

everything he has ever made is SO male gaze-y, be it Euphoria or The Idol. he literally makes torture porn and all his female characters are treated like shit with absolute shitheads written as the male protagonist

The Idol portrays an absolutely vile toxic relationship where the woman is literally treated like scum. He sidelined his female collaborator on The Idol and reworked the show to suit his shitty male gaze. The show Euphoria was also stolen from photographer Petra Collins' aesthetic. Here's what she said:

he's also just known for being an asshole in general. several female cast members on euphoria asked Sam if they could cut down on the nudity (first of all, i think making a highschool drama, casting grown adults and getting away with depicting gratuitous sex scenes is fucked up on its own)

Sydney Sweeney had said:

“There are moments where Cassie was supposed to be shirtless and I would tell Sam, ‘I don't really think that's necessary here,’” she told the Independent. “He was like, ‘OK, we don't need it.’”

Jason Statham- Pushya Sun, UBP Moon

Jason is another example of a man who is idolized by men. He's known for playing menacing tough guys in action movies who are sometimes complete psychopaths and has the brooding toxic violent masculinity that men get off to.

Tom Brady, UBP Moon

He is another male celebrity whom men fawn over.

Chris Evans, Anuradha Rising

Chris is arguably more popular among men than he is among women. He's too plain and boring to appeal to the female gaze truth be told.

DJ Khaled, Anuradha Sun conjunct Mercury (and Saturn in Pushya)

DJ Khaled is in general known for being an obnoxious, egotistical, pompous asshole further confirming the rumours about how self-obsessed, vain, downright delusional and mannerless Saturnian men are.

In 2014, DJ Khaled revealed in an interview that he never performs oral sex on women. The full quote goes like this:

"It's certain things I just don't do. I believe a woman should praise the man, the King." "If you holding it down for your woman, I feel like the woman should praise and the man should praise the Queen," he continued. "But, you know, my way of praising is called, 'How was dinner? You like the house you living in? You like all them clothes you getting? I'm taking care of your family, I'm taking care of my family"

When host Angela Yee asked Khaled if he "goes down" on his longtime girlfriend, he replied, "Nah, never. Nah, I can't do that. Hell nah...I can't do that. I don't do that."

Yee asked Khaled if he would be okay with his girlfriend not giving him oral sex, to which he said, "Nah, it's not okay. You gotta understand I'm the Don, I'm the King."

She told Khaled she doesn't think the double standard is fair. Khaled said, "It's different rules for men. You gotta understand, we the King. There are some things that you guys might not wanna do or wanna do. It gotta get done. I just can't do what you want me to do. I just can't," he added.

This literally sums up how Saturnian men see themselves versus how they see women.

Logan Paul, UBP Sun & Mercury

In 2017 Paul was accused of sexist behaviour with the release of his song "No Handlebars." The track, which samples 2008's "Handlebars" by Flobots, changes the original song's lyrics from "I can ride my bike with no handlebars," to "I can ride your girl with no handlebars." The video shows Paul mounting three women who have positioned themselves to act as a bicycle. This wasn't the first time Paul was accused of sexist behavior, famously releasing a now-deleted Vine with controversial Vine star Sam Pepper in which the pair lassoed women as a way of courting them.

In 2018, in one of the first videos back from his infamous post-Suicide Forest hiatus, Paul can be seen lifting a live koi fish out of water and moving it like a toy boat, as well as tasing dead rats. 

In January 2023, fans were outraged when Paul's former pet pig, Pearl, was found abandoned and injured in a field by the nonprofit The Gentle Barn. In the past, he had put his Pomeranian in seemingly stressful situations for YouTube videos, like introducing him to an actual tiger and putting him in a bucket to zipline him off the roof.

In fact, animal abuse/cruelty seems to be a recurring theme with many Saturnians, both men and women. I think so many Saturnians are notorious for abusing animals because their desire for domination and control manifests most through people who cannot fight back. Obviously being abusive to women and expressing desire to subjugate them is another extension of this Saturnian tendency but it is very telling how a Saturnian can and will dominate, control and abuse absolutely every living being they come across.

many years ago, Kim Kardashian, UBP Moon went viral for holding a cat like a toy and many people said it was abusive behaviour

Kristi Noem, Anuradha Sun, Ketu in Pushya

She recently came under fire for revealing in her memoir how she shot and killed her dog who was difficult to train along with her goat who she hated? Idk how callous you have to be to describe in detail (her exact words and excerpts from the book are available online, I dont feel like repeating it here) how you murdered your pets?? idk how insane you have to be to even publicly admit something like that??

Paris Hilton- Pushya Moon conjunct Rahu

Paris is notorious for how she prefers teacup sized dogs and for anybody who does not know, when animals are specially bred to be an unnaturally small size (bc people think small dogs are "cute") they really struggle with their health a lot bc their bodies are too small to hold all their organs and they struggle with respiratory issues along with being more susceptible to diseases and having weaker immunity. Breeding dogs is absolutely inhumane and cruel. imagine saying you want a cute tiny dog when being that small means that dog lives a much shorter life and a much more arduous one as well?

But Paris isn't just guilty of this but is notorious for neglecting her pets. Los Angeles Animal Services finally interfered after rumours that staff had found a dead puppy in one of Paris’ closets. This was one of Paris’ ways of handling dogs when she got annoyed: lock them away in a different area of the house and then forget about them.

After her documentary came about, many have also accused Paris of being a neglectful mother. Her own sister, Nicky Hilton once said that Paris was too selfish to be a mother and unfortunately 😬it sort of looks like its true? Paris basically left her newborn baby with his nannies and complained about having to "work a lot" when the truth is she's a multimillionaire who can afford to take time off to bond with her newborn?? she treats her babies like props to pose with. if you watch the show you'll know what I mean. her whole attitude and demeanour made it seem like she did not gaf about her kid. She also very callously said she was doing egg retrieval over and over because she wanted a girl and kept getting boys?? idk what happened to the other embryos but its a bit icky to admit that you kind of have a designer baby? On the show, her son was supposed to get circumcised and she says she doesn’t want to be there because it’s too painful for her. How painful is it going to be for your baby?!

On the same show, she also said casually that five of her dogs got ate by coyotes on different occasions? and she cloned two of her deceased dogs??

Shane Dawson, Pushya Sun, Mars in UBP

Shane is a sociopathic asshole in general but in 2015 on a podcast, he, in very graphic detail, explained how he inserted his penis into his cat and then ejaculated onto it as well. His exact words were, "One time I laid my cat down on her back...I moved her little chicken legs spread open or whatever," "I came all over the cat. It was like my first sexual experience...I was also like 19." After this was brought back up in March 2019, he then tweeted saying “I didn’t fuck my cat. I didn’t cum on my cat. I didn’t put my dick anywhere near my cat. I’ve never done anything weird with my cats.” 🤮🤢🤮🤢

Mitt Romney, Anuradha Moon, Jupiter & Ketu

He infamously tied his pet dog in a kennel to the roof of his car for a cross-country trip.

Ted Bundy, Anuradha Sun

Serial killers usually abuse animals as children and there have been studies that link animal cruelty to future psychopathic behaviour. Ted used to abuse the neighbourhood dogs. He shot one neighbour's dog because according to him, the dog was an "evil force" that compelled him to kill. Bundy used to watch as his own father tortured animals.

Angelina Jolie, Pushya Rising

I used to suspect her of being Punarvasu Rising but I came across a 90s interview where she admits to abusing her pets which makes me think she is indeed Pushya Rising lol

"I had a dog and I ended up beating him, and he got sick and... I've hurt so many—I am just not a good animal person... I had a rabbit that died, too... a cage fell on him..."That happened when she was six. But then I had a hamster... I took him in the shower. He died of pneumonia. I had a bunch of little lizards. My friend left them in the sun, and I came back and they were just... my snake, I tried to kill."

Another thing I've noticed with Saturnian men is how they usually scam their way to the top? Deceit, duplicity, being a con artist and a scammer are also common among Saturnian men (Andrew Tate included). They have vv right wing views, especially regarding women and they're also entirely dishonest?

Lance Armstrong, Jupiter in Anuradha in 1h

He was stripped of his tour de france titles after it was revealed that he used performance-enhancing drugs and cheated on his doping tests??

Emily Ratajkowski, UBP Moon & Pushya Stellium (Venus, Mars & Jupiter)

Her bikini wear brand Inamorata has come under fire for not shipping any of their orders?? last year lol. Her brand has also been criticized for selling poor quality bikinis that are tacky and garish

Jennifer Lopez, Pushya Sun, Mercury & Rising

Apart from the fact that J Lo does not sing her own songs and has essentially scammed her way to the top, her numerous business ventures over the years including her Sephora skincare line, Kohl's clothing line etc have all been absolutely horrible, even her perfumes are apparently terrible lol

Anna Delvey has Jupiter & Ketu in Pushya

She is an infamous con artist and fraudster who posed as a wealthy heiress to access upper-class New York social and art scenes from 2013 to 2017. 

Back to the theme of Saturnians being abusive, here are some more examples:

Colleen Ballinger, Anuradha Sun

She was accused of grooming her underage fans and being creepy to them and she responded to that with a ukulele song? Her ex-husband reacted to the weird apology saying "This behaviour was my reality anytime I spoke up & disagreed with her actions & rhetoric during 2009-2016. I was gaslit too. I was made to feel like I was always the problem. Any pain I felt was an inconvenience and was belittled. Every ounce of what you’re feeling, I understand."

As someone who used to watch them in the early 2010s (I feel super old) I know for a fact that Colleen was a major asshole to Josh (her ex husband) and always acted like, since she was more successful than him, she had the "upper hand". She's a toxic narcissist and I hated the way she treated all the people in her life like they're all her glorified assistants or something ugh

David Dobrik, Pushya Sun, Saturn in UBP

If you've watched any of his content, you do know that he uses people around him for "vlog content" and often does really crass, distasteful, offensive, weird, inappropriate shit to his friends for clout? he was rightfully accused of setting up the stage for one of his friends to sexually abuse a minor

Russell Brand, UBP Moon

He has been accused or rape, sexual assault and emotional abuse by 4 women

He's like the spiritual hippie avatar of a toxic alpha chad and he used to be heavily involved in the Ra Ma Yoga place that was essentially a cult

Haile Selassie, Anuradha Moon

This is a more extreme example of men (and women) worshipping a Saturn man, in this case quite literally. Haile Selassie was the emperor of Ethiopia. In the 1930s when he initially became emperor, Rastafarianism emerged in Jamaica and Rastafaris believed that Haile was the second coming of Christ and is perceived as a prophet.

Sri Sathya Sai Baba, Anuradha Stellium (Sun, Mercury, Venus & Saturn)

Sai Baba was a guru who was revered by his followers and literally thought of as God. however, he was embroiled in several scandals in his lifetime including child molestation. Its really hard to dig up info about Indian gurus because they started doing their stuff in the pre-internet era and because its really easy to get away with virtually any kind of abuse under the guise of religion and spirituality in India.

Another guru with major Saturnian energy was Anandamayi Ma who had UBP Rising.

There will be a part 2, where I'll explore more about Saturnian energies and how it manifests in women etc<3 But I hope this post was interesting <3

[avelera]

Let's Play: What's Wrong with this Sculpture?

Following in the theme of sharing astonishing moments of ancient sculpture pedantry here on Tumblr, based on my brief undergraduate stint as a T.A of ancient art history, I thought I'd share one of my other proudest moments of being an absolutely insufferable know-it-all about ancient sculptures.

In the process, I hope I can also share some of the sort of largely useless (from a practical perspective) information that Tumblr tends to glory in, so buckle up buttercups.

This question was posed to me on a walking tour of the Capitoline Museum in my ancient art history class while I was living abroad. Our professor, a delightfully curmudgeonly Belgian, stopped in front and asked us to figure out why this sculpture is just plain wrong.

I intend to walk you through the process of how I got the right answer and, after gaining my teacher's rare approval, glowed with enough serotonin to power a small nuclear reactor.

So, let's return to the original question: what is wrong with this sculpture?

Because if you are truly eagle-eyed you should be able to spot what very famous sculpture this actually is, before an overly imaginative Frenchman brought it back wrong.

Hint #1: It was incorrectly restored.

Look closely at the the difference of the patina, or color of the stone. It's a bit hard to tell in this photo, but the head was added later. It's a paler white than the core of the torso, which is what we have of the original sculpture.

Hint #2: It was incorrectly restored in the 18th century by a Frenchman (Pierre-Étienne Monnot) who made some, shall we say, creative interpretations of what's going on here.

You can tell it's by an 18th c. Frenchman because the facial features are so delicate. Ancient statues tend to have less narrow and delicate chins and noses. In general, that is a dead giveaway when something is 18th century French vs. Ancient Greek or Roman.

Here's a good example. The first sculpture is 18th c. French, the second is the famous Venus de Milo. Note her blockier chin and less delicate features. So in the future, you can tell these sort of later additions to Greek or Roman sculptures if they added a new head because 17-19th century sculptors in Europe had tools (like finer drill tips) and tastes (beauty standards that favored more delicate men and women) that led to a pronounced difference in the faces.

Hint #3: Check out the anatomy of his lower shoulder. That's another addition, that arm should not be coming straight out of a torso where the muscle, if you look closely, is turned inward.

Seriously, that looks painful.

Hint #4: The sword he's holding up is just total nonsense for the Roman era. I mean, the restoration makes no secret of the fact that this sword is a later addition, but it's also just an absolute nonsense sword with its silly little curved cross guard. This Frenchman literally just made it up.

Here's an ancient sculpture with a sword in it that actually looks right:

From the Ludovisi Gaul, a famous Hellenistic Baroque work of Greek sculpture. Note the much blockier sword though I will admit, it could be a later addition, I don't know for 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure it's the original. Regardless, it fits the sculpture much better and let me add that sword I'm criticizing is completely made up for the sculpture we're talking about and is not there in the original sculpture that was incorrectly restored.

Ok, so those are all the hints.

Look closely at the body of the first sculpture. Cut away the arms that are not connected to the body correctly, the sword that shouldn't be there, the face that was far too delicate. When you separate those later additions out, can you tell me what sculpture that actually is?

Because here is the reveal!

The Discus Thrower, aka, the Discobolus by Myron.

The French restorationist got carried away by his own imagination, saw a twisted torso and thought it could only possibly be a warrior in the midst of twisting around to fend off a blow, not an athlete in the midst of a demonstration of skill. It's a martial, fanciful read that completely misinterpreted the subject.

This is why most restoration today employs a much lighter touch, rather than trying to reattach pieces incorrectly, they tend to just outline where the missing pieces are with a light sketch of an educated guess of what might have actually been there. Faulty restorations like the Capitoline Discobolus is one reason for this modern stylistic principle when it comes to restoration work.

When my professor asked us to identify the correct original sculpture that day on the museum tour, it was the sword that pinged me as wrong first, but zeroing in on the core of the sculpture, the torso, is what revealed the true statue underneath.

This notoriously difficult to please professor was very proud when I blurted out, "It's the Discus Thrower!" and the high-octane serotonin I got from his approval probably could have propelled me into the sun that day, and brought to you Yet Another Moment of Ancient Sculpture Pedantry.

[pigfacedbitch]

HIIII I'm a big fan of your work and I really love it your writing is amazing , this may be a weird request and if your uncomfortable you don't have to do it , it's fine I completely understand, so it's like merlin and Arthur and the reader and they are all soulmates and it's there first time meeting each other . Thank you in advance

Modern! Reader Gets Transported to Albion

idea : modern world! reader gets transported to Albion and meets Arthur and Merlin. unbeknownst to you and the prince of Camelot, the three of you are soulmates.

type : imagines

word count : 0.7k

pairing/s involved : Arthur x Reader, Merlin x Reader

warning/s : almost drowning, panicking

here is my masterlist!

Note : MY FIRST REQUEST! Whoever you are, thank you for reading my works and I might've changed a little bit in your request. Also, I apologize that it took so long, school has been keeping me busy. I hope you like it! 😊

You've always been a fan of BBC Merlin so when you had the chance to take a trip to Europe, you did.

You went to all the locations where they filmed the series like Château de Pierrefonds and Chislehurst Caves. The last destination is where the Lake of Avalon is; Forest of Dean.

Luckily you are alone, giving you the chance to fully enjoy the beautiful sceneries and serene atmosphere.

It made you feel a deeper sense of nostalgia and melancholy— how the precious characters you loved dearly died and were 'buried' there.

With one last selfie, you were about to walk back to you car when you hear it. A faint voice, filled with sorrow and longing.

"(Y/N)... Save us."

It's coming from the lake.

Something glimmers on it's shore, a sapphire drop necklace with golden chain. When you attempt to pick it up, the world begins to spin.

Suddenly, you were underwater.

Panic builds in your chest not because you can't swim, but an unseen force seems to harshly pull you down no matter how hard you try to stay afloat.

"Help me! Please, someone—"

Air runs out from your lungs when a pair of bulky arms grabs your body and begins to swim you to safety.

"Don't worry, I got you."

I heard that voice before.

The stranger easily carries you to ground, draping a large cloak on your shivering body. Rubbing your eyes for better sight, you look up...

Bradley James?

"Are you alright?"

No. You're certain that Bradley doesn't look that young anymore, keeping up with his latest activities online.

"I told you to be careful, Arthur!"

Turning your head, you see Colin Morgan run towards the two of you with a worried expression on his face.

He looks younger too.

"Ah, Merlin. Fetch the horses, she might need medical attention. May I ask for you name, my lady?"

Arthur? Merlin? Wait... Oh my God.

Realization hits you hard when both men stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

The way they speak, their clothes, their appearances... it's exactly the same in the show you binge-watch every Christmas season.

Am I in the show? That's not possible...right?

"W-Where are we?"

"Camelot."

Shit.

You expect someone to go 'You just got punked!'; that would've been better than two men (who you have a huge crush on) staring at you, confused.

You waited for a moment but nothing happens.

This is real. I'm actually in Albion.

Fear and anxiety creeps into your system, as many questions form in your head. Did I die? What's going on? What season is this? How can I ever get back?

Due to the overwhelming emotions, your breath shortens and keeled over.

Bradley, or Arthur (You have no idea anymore), quickly catches you and gently carries you to his horse.

"We must make haste!" was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

Merlin, on the hand, knew this would happen. In fact, he dreams of you.

He sees you in vague images, like old memories— happily kissing his cheek, witnessing him use magic, encouraging him to do another trick, etc.

He already etched in his mind your pretty face, your melodious voice, your playful grin— everything about you.

Then Arthur shares the same experience, dreaming about a woman who's description mirrors yours.

Kilgharrah told him that the woman of their dreams will arrive soon from faraway land and will play significant role in the prophecy.

However, the dragon didn't specify how. He only said—

"(Y/N) is your soulmate, Emrys. She sees you and Arthur in a light no one else ever will."

Soulmates are uncommon, even for druids. Only a few were blessed, to have something so wholesome and pure.

So when he heard your cry for help, he is ecstatic. You have finally arrived. His soulmate... and Arthur's.

He wryly smiles at this. Funny how he shares, not only his destiny with the prat, but also you.

The trip to the castle was faster than they anticipated. Arthur told him to call Gaius and meet them in his bedroom.

It caught the attention of everyone. The prince carrying an unconscious woman in his private chambers will surely stir gossip.

But Arthur didn't care, and Merlin didn't know if he should be proud or worried.

The court physician said you are healthy, they only have to wait for you to wake up. He left to attend other matters; leaving the three of you alone.

"This is her." The prince laughs in disbelief, incognizant of what Merlin knows. "The girl in my dreams, I can't believe it!"

Merlin tries to hide his smirk, Arthur can be so adorable when he's clueless.

"Nor can I, sire."

[multific]

Heart Eyes

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: mention of torture and kidnapping

Summary: He always looked at you in a certain way. One would say his eyes were always full when he was looking at you.

Working for the FBI was never your goal. You just always seem to notice certain things in people's behaviours.

You never could have imagined that it was an actual job to profile others.

But of course, you weren't complaining.

Working for the BAU, you remember how nervous you were on your first day.

You tried to impress the team without sounding like a fool.

But even when you made mistakes, Hotch made sure to let you know that you did a good enough job.

What you never would have expected is that you would catch the attention of a certain Doctor.

Spencer is a sweetheart and you genuinely thought you two had a good relationship.

You always brushed off when the others said that he liked you more than a friend or co-worker.

You weren't that interesting, he couldn't possibly find you out of all people interesting.

But everyone seems to think otherwise.

And as you listened to Spencer going on and on about something regarding a religious group in Europe, you couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry, I'm rambling again."

"No, please keep going. I do find it interesting. You said they lived completely secluded from everyone, and that their leader had six wives." he offered you a smile before he kept going. Not even taking a breath between his sentences as he continued.

The next week, you had a case, a very nasty case involving a man who liked to kidnap women and torture them. His profile wasn't difficult to build, but his victims changed.

And you had no clue how to find him or protect everyone.

It was a strange case.

One of many.

But it soon became a lot more, when the men took you.

Maybe going out for a late dinner alone wasn't the best idea.

But you were hungry, and now, you might pay with your life for your stupidity.

You weren't ready for death.

You were too young.

And you still had to confess to Spencer! You couldn't just end like this!

It can't be the end of your story.

Blindfolded and silenced in a cage, like some animal.

You heard him upstairs, walking around in his house. You even heard a phone ring, but you knew it was pointless to try and make any noise.

The man was cruel and you exactly what he was capable of.

But, you also knew what to do to buy time for yourself.

You knew the team will be looking for you. It was only a matter of time.

And since you knew this monster's profile, you will be able to do what needed to be done.

---

Meanwhile, the team was going mad.

One of their own was taken and everyone was spiraling.

"We have to find her!" spoke up Emily.

"We will, just focus, Morgan said the man hunts in the dark."

And something clicked for Spencer. He rushed over to the table and looked at the maps.

"This part of the woods is darker than the other due to the dense trees."

"We will start there. Everyone, GO!" nodded Hotch as everyone went their way.

They found a small cabin tucked away in the middle.

Everyone knew they needed to take it slow, it could mean your life.

Spencer walked quietly behind Morgan. The two decided to split up as Morgan headed for the bedroom while Spencer went to the basement.

In there, he found you, crying in a cage.

When you saw him, you knew better than to say a word.

You quietly nodded as he walked over and picked the lock.

"My leg hurts." you whispered as he pulled you out.

You both heard Morgan and Hotch yelling upstairs. You assumed they caught the guy.

And now, as you looked at Spencer, you could see what everyone had been talking about.

You could see the hearts in his eyes, as he could see the same in yours.

He carried you out in his arms.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[garycxjk]

Why most people don't get Europapa

So, Joost Klein's Europapa apparently is taking the world by storm. With its happy hardcore or gabber house tunes and beats and the silly music video, there's no denying that this song has a certain charm, though it also has its detractors.

The thing is, though, most people on both sides don't fully get the song.

To summarize the song, it's essentially about an orphan who travels around Europe to find himself. Those were in Joost's own words.

Europapa is about an orphan who travels throughout Europe (and beyond) to find himself and tell his story. At first, people don’t recognise him, but he goes on seizing any opportunity he gets to let himself be seen. Europapa is a tribute to my father. When bringing me up, he passed on to me an expansive view of the world.

Okay, but why does the song sound so silly? Well, that's something deliberate. I don't really know much about Joost Klein's music, but what I do know is that this is basically what most of his songs are. Silly, yet deep.

Okay, brief detour to give context to the rest of what I'm writing, but it's important to remember that Joost Klein basically became an orphan at a young age. He lost his father to cancer when he was 12, and a year later, his mother died as well. This essentially shaped his music. From what I can gather from the many YouTube comments, he always watched Eurovision with his parents, and told them that one day he'd be there on stage.

So, let's just talk about the elephant in the room. Some people call this European propaganda. However, just the first few lines clue you in that it isn't just some pro-EU propaganda.

Welcome to Europe Stay here until I die

In fact, there are several lines used that wouldn't sit right if it were pro-EU propaganda. Let's look at the second verse.

Ich bin in Deutschland Aber ich bin so allein

Which roughly translates to

I'm in Germany But I'm so lonely

The next lines, "Io sono in Italia / Maar toch doet het pijn" (first line Italian, second line Dutch), which translates to "I'm in Italy / But I still feel pain".

Essentially, the entire song is him trying to let go of his past, to let go of his grief. That's essentially what the burning house and the windmill represent at the end, finally moving on from the past.

And that's essentially what the entire song is about. The entire song sounds like it's stuck in the '90s and early noughties. Naturally the most glaring part is the music style. Back in the '90s, happy hardcore and gabber house was really big, especially in the Netherlands. The way people dance back then and dressed when they did can be seen in the scene with Paul Elstak. Then there's the Gameboy Advance, which came out in the early 2000s.

Another cool thing is a reference to New Kids, a Dutch comedy show from 2007, when someone says "Welkom in Europa jongen!" ("Welcome in Europe boy!"). On the television screen, you can see Gerrie van Boven, played by Tim Haars, a character from New Kids.

But it isn't just a throwback. It's all being done deliberate. Something that gets lost in translation is the text. The rhymes work, however, to a Dutch person, it sounds a bit... childish. Very simple, at the very least. But I think that even that is done deliberately. It sounds like a child has been writing these lines, but I think that's the point of the song. It's supposed to sound like a child has been writing these lines.

The entire song is about the protagonist being stuck in the past, being stuck in his grief. It's why there's a disconnect between the text and the melody. Sure, it's a celebration of Europe, of Eurovision. Joost Klein genuinely loves Eurovision. However, it's also essentially him saying, this is me closing another chapter in my life.

Let's take a look at the outro of the song.

Op kruistocht in m'n spijkerbroek, lopend door de velden M'n papa en m'n mama zijn voor altijd mijn helden Aan het einde van de dag zijn we allemaal mensen M'n vader zei me ooit: "Het is een wereld zonder grenzen" Regen op het raam en ik stond huilend bij het venster Veel te vroeg duister, het is winter in de lente "Ik mis je elke dag", is wat ik stiekempjes fluister Zie je nou wel, pa? Ik heb naar je geluisterd

This... seems quite long, doesn't it? Well, that's because that's the full outro. What most hear during the video clip is this:

Aan het einde van de dag zijn we allemaal mensen M'n vader zei me ooit: "Het is een wereld zonder grenzen" "Ik mis je elke dag", is wat ik stiekempjes fluister Zie je nou wel, pa? Ik heb naar je geluisterd

Let's translate the full lyrics. I'll put the translations of the lyrics in the music video in bold and italic.

On my crusade in jeans, walking through the fields My dad and mom are forever my heroes At the end of the day we are all human beings My father once told me: "It's a world without borders" Rain on the window and I stood at the window crying Darkness far too soon, it's Winter in Spring "I miss you every day", is what I secretly whisper You see dad, I listened to you

So, basically, the gist is, this song has many layers. It's a heartfelt tribute to Eurovision, while also telling a personal story about grief and letting go of said grief.

Though I think this interview with Joost Klein on De Avondshow met Arjen Lubach may say more than I could.

Well, sometimes you must say goodbye to whatever is most dear to you. And when one door closes thousands of others open, apparently. But what I've learned is that you tend to hold on to your own pain sometimes. So this letter provides some sort of closure, dare I say. Saying: "Hey, Mum and Dad... You will always be there for me, but I can't carry this pain forever."

[sitp-recs]

Can you recommend fics where harry thinks draco is up to something? thank you so much! I love this blog.

Sure thing, anon! A classic Drarry trope👌🏼I hope you enjoy these:

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

The Usual by @aibidil (T, 9k)

Harry finally tries the new magical coffee shop on Diagon Alley. A story in which Draco is Up To Something™ and Harry is going to get to the bottom of it, and to the bottom of that sixteen ounce to-go cup.

Operation Dragon's Shenanigans by @nv-md (E, 14k)

Harry's in love with Draco, but it's complicated. Even more complicated than 'I'm in love with my ex-archnemesis and I get dizzy every time I see him smile'. No matter that Harry's an Auror, and always loved a good mystery, he's still having trouble figuring Draco out. And he's the only one who can see that Draco isn't a regular human.

Sleight of Hand by @the-starryknight (E, 15k)

It’s another one of those horrid Ministry affairs, and the only interesting thing is twinkling from Draco Malfoy’s finger. Can you really blame Harry for being fascinated by the gorgeous emerald ring and those long, elegant hands, especially when he’s certain Malfoy is up to something?

Espresso Patronum by @tasteofshapes (T, 15k)

When Draco reappears five years after the war and opens a wildly popular coffee shop, Harry’s pretty sure that Draco’s Up to Something. He just has to prove it.

The Regret Machine by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 15k)

Malfoy’s coming in to do fancy Legilimency work on Hermione’s mind healing machine. Harry’s his test subject—and he’s pretty sure Malfoy is still Up To Something.

Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by @bafflinghaze (T, 16k)

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

Rich Friend by @sorrybutblog (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Here Be Dragons by birdsofshore (E, 21k)

Harry doesn’t want to waste his time investigating illegal dragonhide trading, whether it involves a fetish club in Knockturn Alley or visiting a remote island in Wales. Why the bloody hell does Malfoy always have to be up to something?

Trouble, My Old Friend by Tepre (E, 21k)

Harry goes rogue investigating an illegal potion and ends up at Draco Malfoy's dodgy lab.

Tuxedo Angel by tryslora (E, 25k)

Harry and Neville are looking for the infamous Dragon Lily, a Dark witch active throughout Europe and Asia. Instead, they find the Tuxedo Angel, a beautiful witch performing in Rome. Harry quickly discovers that the Angel is not what she seems, and fights his attraction to her, while both he and the Angel are drawn into a web created by ancient magic that pulls them together, whether they are ready for it or not.

À Bon Chat by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief.

measures of our days and nights by flimsy (E, 40k)

Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

The Last Day We Ever Close Our Eyes by @firethesound (E, 43k)

When Draco Malfoy returns to the public eye by purchasing a run-down little antiques shop on Knockturn, Harry is convinced that he is up to something. It turns out that Harry is both very right and very wrong about that.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

The Star Splitter by @oflights (E, 219k)

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him.

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 8 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, nonconsensual drugging, minor implication of necrophilia, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 17,700+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, current chapter, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

(Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner. 

        (Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by.

        She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't. 

        (Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips.

        What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!

        She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew. 

        (Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.

        "Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"

        "Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."

        "To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair. 

        (Y/N) smiled, standing up from her bed and stretching. She grabbed Andrew's crutches and handed it to him, standing near his side until she was certain he was up and balanced. 

        "I'm going to go change. Do you need a change of clothes?" (Y/N) questioned, rummaging through her drawers. 

        "No, don't bother." Andrew hummed, picking up his clothes where he left them last night. "I'll wear what I wore yesterday."

        "Okay... but I'm warning you, I meant it when I said that you're not going to be wearing the same clothes days at a time. After today, that outfit is going inside of the laundry basket and being washed." (Y/N) spoke sternly, holding her chosen outfit in her hands.

        "Got it, mom." Andrew teased, playfully rolling his eyes at her. 

        (Y/N) smiled, before walking into her bathroom and shutting the door, locking it behind her. They were only going out today, so there wasn't any reason to dress up in diamonds and bling. She changed out of her nightgown, putting on her bra and white shirt. She threw her dirtied bandages in the trash, before adding more gauze and medical tape to cover her stitches. She left her other scarred arm exposed, considering she was no longer bleeding and it’d be a waste of resources to cover it. She put on black shorts and a pastel purple jacket, a white star on the back of her jacket. She did her hair, adding in her signature yellow star hair clip before walking out of the room. 

        Andrew was done changing, wearing his black sweater and ripped grey jeans. His hair was messy from his bedhead, so she grabbed her hair brush and handed it to him.

        "Thanks." Andrew smiled, taking the brush and brushing out his black hair.

        Even with his hair brushed, it still stuck out in places, looking very fluffy and tempting to touch.

        Burnt marshmallow fluff... (Y/N) thought, staring at his hair. 

        Andrew handed her back her brush. She set it down on her bathroom counter, before looking over at him.

        "Are you ready? I have a surprise for you." (Y/N) smiled. 

        "Nothing bad, right?" he questioned, smiling.

        "No, no. Nothing bad." (Y/N) chuckled, placing her hand on his back as she guided him to the door. "It'll be helpful for you."

        "If you say so." He smiled, fighting back the shivers her touch gave him. 

        (Y/N) opened the door and guided him down her hallway. Rose and Frank were up and sitting at the dining table, 

        Frank’s phone sitting in front of them as they studied a digital map.

        “Good morning.” (Y/N) greeted, causing Rose to look up from the phone.

        “Do you know any good breakfast spots? We’re heading back to the farm now.” Rose spoke.

        “Morning, kiddo.” Frank smiled politely, before looking back at his phone.

        “Um… there’s IHOP? I like their crepes?” (Y/N) suggested.

        “Nevermind. I shouldn’t have expected you to know much about taste…” Rose sighed, her eyes drifting to Andrew, which seemed like an insult. 

        “Thanks, Ma.” (Y/N) smiled, more on the sarcastic end.

        (Y/N) guided Andrew to the living room coach for him to sit and rest his legs. She walked over to her front door and opened it, looking around before spotting a white package. 

        Thank God a porch pirate didn’t still this. This was about 300 bucks for a good quality one on sale. (Y/N) thought, crouching and picking up the box. 

        She carried the box inside, placing it down on the living room floor. She grabbed knife from her kitchen, cutting open the box and pulling out a plastic bag with something inside of it. Andrew looked curious, but was unsure if he was allowed to question her on what she bought.

        (Y/N) ripped open the bag, placing the object on the ground as she skimmed over the instructions. She got the gist, and grabbed the object, pulling it apart until it unfolded in a wheelchair. 

        “Ta-dah!” (Y/N) smiled. “I noticed you were struggling with those crutches, perhaps you had gotten used to wheelchairs at the hospital. I don’t blame you, they can tire out your arms quicker. I didn't want you having to apply pressure on your legs while they're trying to heal either.”

        Andrew smiled, placing his crutches down on the side as he looked at her. He was moved that she thought about his comfortability like that.

        "Thanks... but you didn't have to. I'm sure I could've managed." Andrew spoke, watching as she adjusted some screws and locks to keep the wheelchair from collapsing. 

        "Hey, don't worry about it. I want you to be comfortable." (Y/N) spoke. "Besides, we need your legs to heal after all." She added, testing out the wheelchair by placing her hands down on the chair, applying pressure to see if it’d collapse. “Here, test it out.” She smiled, turning the chair to his direction, wheeling it up to the couch.

        She placed her hand on his shoulder, her other hand wavering close to his waist in case he needed assistance. Andrew stood up using his crutches, before moving over to the wheelchair, sitting down on it. 

        “I paid extra for it to have brakes on it, that way you don’t have to burn your hands to stop.” (Y/N) explained, taking his crutches and resting them on the couch. 

        “Really now? How much?” Andrew questioned, tilting his head over at her.

        “Don’t worry about it.” (Y/N) smiled, ignoring the question. 

        “That’s a more fancy looking wheelchair than the movies.” Frank chirped, walking into the living room. “Hey, how’d you even break your legs? I’ve seen your legs move, so you’re not paralyzed waist down.”

        Andrew paused, looking over at Frank hesitantly.

        What’s he supposed to tell him? That he jumped off a building a few stories high? That’s a bit personal, and in a sense, humiliating.

        “A car accident about a week back.” (Y/N) jumped in, placing her hand on his back in a silent reassurance. “It’s was some shattering, but he seems to be healing up quick!” 

        “Yeah. It was a nasty car accident.” Andrew nodded, playing along. 

        “That sucks…” Frank commented, before looking down at his legs. “Does it hurt?”

        “Obviously it hurts, Frank.” Rose scoffed, entering the living room. “He shattered his bones.” 

        “Well, maybe he has strong opioids! Or maybe he’s superhuman, like Hulk or something…” Frank spoke.

        “I wish.” Andrew chuckled. “It hurts, but it’s not terrible…”

        (Y/N) looked over at him with a concerned expression. She had completely forgotten that he should’ve been taking pain meds, but Andrew looked to be the guy to tough it out (much to any nurse’s annoyance).

        “Hey, do you need any meds?” (Y/N) questioned. “I have some. They’re not the strong kind but they can help?” 

        “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Andrew smiled. “This wheelchair helps me a lot already.” 

        “If you say so…” (Y/N) muttered, concerned.

        “Oh, (Y/N). We need to talk before I leave.” Rose spoke, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for (Y/N) to sit next to her.

        “Yes, Mama…” (Y/N) nodded, a bit hesitant before sitting down next to her.

        “You boys go on git for a few seconds. Go outside on the balcony or something.” Rose ordered to the boys.

        “Why can’t we stay?” Andrew questioned, a sort of annoyance fizzing in his stomach and chest.

        “Cause this doesn’t concern the likes of you.” Rose scoffed.

        “C’mon, you heard the lady.” Frank spoke, before forcing Andrew out of the room by pushing his wheelchair, taking him out to the balcony.

        “So?” Rose hummed, crossing her legs together, placing her hands on her lap. “Tell me, how has your job been going babysitting?”

        “Nursing.” (Y/N) corrected, though she knew Rose said that on purpose. “And it’s been very fun. New things everyday. No repetition. There’s always something to do.” (Y/N) explained. “And of course, the kids are absolute sweethearts.” 

        “Right” Rose hummed.

        “I’m studying more. I’m continuing college and taking classes so I can up the ranks and be a pediatrician.” (Y/N) explained, crossing her arms. 

        “More money is good…” Rose nodded.

        “And you? Being a nurse?” (Y/N) questioned. “How is that for you?” 

        “Money is money, you can never have too much.” Rose smiled. “Besides, the farmhands have the farm under control. They do the work, get some pocket change, and get some money—you’ll be doing that soon too.” 

        “Is that so?" (Y/N) hummed. 

        "He wouldn't do good on the farm, you know." Rose spoke, her cold eyes trailing to (Y/N)'s. "He's a city boy—he doesn't know a thing about farming." Rose spoke, her fingers tapping her thigh impatiently. "But don't worry, I was able to ask around and I have some suitors for you. They grew up doing the farm work on their family farms, so they know how to care for the farm. They're only a town or two away from ours, so they don't know anything about your problems or what happened with Ren."

        It felt like a blood vessel popped as Rose said his name, causing (Y/N) to bite her tongue and her nails to dig into her palms. 

        "Don't you fucking talk about him." (Y/N) spat out.

        "Excuse me?" Rose exclaimed, shocked. 

        "I'm not going back home, I'm not going to inherit the farm, and I'm not going back to him so long as he breathes. I've already told you this, Mama." (Y/N) hissed. 

        "You need to let go of the past. You need to get over your denial and understand that you were the one that killed that boy, not Ren." Rose spoke, pointing her finger at her. "You just don't remember because you have that stupid fucking curse just like your father."

        "It's not a curse; it's a disorder." (Y/N) scoffed. "You're a nurse. The least you can do is understand what patients you'll have to deal with."

        "Whether you like it or not, you're going to take over that farm. You're the only existing (L/N) and my family name will not die off because of your selfishness." Rose spat. "The farm will be written in your name when I die, it'll be in my will. You're going to marry a farmer, and you're going to take over the farm until you produce a child with my last name who is actually grateful for the opportunities the farm gives them."

        "No, I'm not." (Y/N) hissed. "I didn't just move out of home to hide, I came here to be seen." (Y/N) spoke. "This is where I belong. Nursing is where I belong. My coworkers are amazing and they don't judge me like you. The kids are absolutely fantastic and so, so smart. So much smarter than you! Even the kids' parents are better than you when they throw fits because at least they care for their children's health!"

        "You're an attention seeker. You're selfish. You're incompetent. You're nothing without my last name." Rose hissed, clenching her fist as she stood up from her seat. "If you don't open your eyes and realize that soon enough, that boy is going to run away from you as soon as he can walk!" 

        "No, he won't!" (Y/N) exclaimed, sitting up from her seat. "Andrew's not going to leave me."

        I won't let him. She thought. 

        “You’re delusional if you think he’d actually stay with you as you are.” Rose laughed. “You’re practically nothing without the farm! No money, student loans—you’re nothing but the embodiment of paranoia and guilt. You have it worse than your father.” 

        “You are not going to disrespect me under my own roof, Rose.” (Y/N) hissed, clenching her fists.

        “I’m your mother.” Rose scoffed. “And I’m not disrespecting you, I’m guiding you! I’m trying to give you a good life and you’re being a brat about it!” 

        “Oh, excuse me for choosing what I want to do in my own life.” (Y/N) scoffed.

        “If you chose what you want, you'd be dead!” Rose exclaimed. “I have to make decisions for you because you’ll kill yourself otherwise!” 

        It stung to hear that, a piercing knife stabbing through (Y/N)’s heart that couldn’t be pulled out without causing more damage. It hurt to know she was such a burden, and it hurt even more to know that Rose was—in a sense—right.

        "I decided all of this; not you!” (Y/N) shouted, her arms opening up as she gestured to everything around her. “I left the farm on my own, I was homeless for months on my own, I got a job on my own, I made money on my own, I got into college on my own. I don’t need you to make decisions for me!” 

        “You have no experience in life, you can’t even commit to living your life!” Rose spoke. “You don’t know anything about life because you’re so close-minded. One day you’re going to wake up alone in bed without that little boy and wish you would’ve listened to me because that’s not a man out there, that’s a boy! He’ll leave you as soon as his legs heal, and you’ll come crawling back to me about how I was right, and that you’ll marry one of those farm boys and live a lavish life with raspberries and riches!” Rose blabbered, rambling on about her fantasy.

        “You don’t get to decide that!” (Y/N) spat out, her hands reaching out to grab her own hair anxiously, tugging on it from the claustrophobic pressure.

        “You can’t even talk to me like a normal person without freaking out! What makes you think that you can even make decisions for yourself if you can’t even take care of yourself?” Rose hissed, pointing her finger accusingly at (Y/N).

        “I am normal—I just have a few extra steps to me!” (Y/N) spoke, exasperated. “Mama, I’m not going to take the farm. I’m not going back. I’m not marrying those damn farm boys you want! I don’t need your generational wealth!”

        “It doesn’t matter what you say, it’ll be in my will.” Rose retorted.

        “You give me that farm and I’ll sell it!” (Y/N) hissed. 

        Rose’s face dropped, surprised, before it hardened once more.

        “You know, I’ve made plenty of decisions in my life; but marrying your father and having you was by far the worst. It haunts me to this day.” Rose spat out. “Your father has complicated my life, but you’re the one who's completely destroyed it.” 

        “Stop it, Ma.” (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth.

        “Even though you’re out of town, I still have to pay for your actions. It’s my family’s farm and reputation on the line. My last name is slandered because of you. I can’t even go to the grocery store without getting nasty looks. I’ve been kicked out of church, my own damn religion and identity rejects me because of your actions. Those pesky kids in town are burning my berry bushes and stoning my chickens and throwing rocks at my windows. I can’t talk to the other mothers, or even try to talk to Ben’s mother., all because of you and your father.” Rose spoke.

        Another stab to her heart, guilt overwhelming her. Even if she wasn’t the one holding the stones, she was still the target; Rose was just unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire. Even if it wasn't her fault, nobody will believe the freak show's daughter over the jail warden's son. 

        After all, you wouldn't expect your son to be a bad person until he is. Ren being the warden's son only gave him an advantage in life to break the law. Maybe his father believes that Ren could "straighten" or "stray the path" of (Y/N)'s away from the Devil (her disorder) to where she wouldn't be a freak. Either way, Ren will inherit his family's jailhouse just like (Y/N) will inherit her family's farm. A normal civilian can't vote for who inherits the jailhouse or farm, only the previous owner can; and it looks like Ren isn't being put off that will anytime soon.

        “Why don’t you move away? Start a new farm?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Because I don’t run away from my problems, unlike you.” Rose hissed.

        No, that wasn’t the truth. The truth was Rose’s home was at the line. Her money was at the line. Relocating and having to renew all her crops, find a large enough piece of land with a similar climate, hire new and experienced farmhands; all of that would be too tedious for Rose's liking.

        “You’ve made my own home unsafe.” Rose spoke. “And I hope you die for it.” 

        “Please get out of my house, Mama.” (Y/N) pleaded.

        “House? House? You can’t even call it a home because you don’t have one! You’re welcomed nowhere!” Rose shouted. “Even after you took my home you have the audacity to claim you don’t have one! It’s right under your nose!”

        (Y/N) didn’t know whether to cry, scream back, or run. She felt nauseous and weak, any second longer and she might puke on the ground. 

        There was a feeling of fear too, even though there was no immediate threat. Maybe it was the fear of her feelings, or maybe it was just the urge to run again—whatever it was, it was overpowering.

        (Y/N) didn’t want to put her hands on her own mother, that’d be disrespectful even if she was being slandered herself.  

        Even if she hates her mother; she loves her too.

        “It’s time to go, Mama.” (Y/N) sighed. “Go eat breakfast with Papa.”

        “Don’t tell me what to do.” Rose hissed. “I’m going to go get lunch now instead!”

        So petty.

        (Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, walking to the balcony to get the men.

        The pair of boys stopped their conversation, their heads turned to the door. They both had an expression verging on confused, concerned, and surprised. 

        “Papa, you need to leave. Me and Andrew have plans today.” (Y/N) spoke, opening the door.

        .

        .

        “C’mon, you heard the lady.” Frank spoke, before forcing Andrew out of the room by pushing his wheelchair, taking him out to the balcony.

        Andrew reluctantly turned his head to the pair of women. The pair held poker faces, but there was tension in the air even before their conversation started. 

        Frank opened the balcony and pushed Andrew out with him, closing the balcony door. They stood on the balcony together, looking down at the dirty city. 

        “I really hate places like this…” Frank sighed, leaning on the balcony railing. 

        “Uh… yeah. I guess it’s not pretty.” Andrew agreed hesitantly.

        Even though he did agree, he was more concerned of Frank throwing him off the railing 2 stories high. Sure the drop wasn’t too far down, but 20 feet is 20 feet, and if he lands on his head wrong, he’s not so sure he’ll get back up this time.

        Frank fumbled in his back pocket, before pulling out a box of cigarettes.

        “You smoke?” he questioned, shaking the box as an offer. 

        “Yeah.” Andrew nodded.

        Frank opened the box and pulled out two cigarettes, handing Andrew one. Andrew just realized that Frank was missing a finger, a clean nub where the bones should be. Andrew doesn't know what Frank works as, but he can only guess it's a factory or a manual labor job.

        Frank grabbed his Zippo lighter, flipping the cover and spinning the flint wheel till it sparked and fire appeared. He lit his cigarette, then Andrew’s.

        “If I smoke by Rose, she’ll chew me out.” Frank hummed, exhaling smoke. “She doesn’t like the smell. Says it sticks on my clothes. 

        The mention of third-hand smoke made Andrew pause, looking down at the cigarette he was about to put in his mouth and hesitating.

        “Actually… you can keep this…” Andrew spoke, smudging the end of the cigarette so it went out. “I don’t want to smell bad in the car with (Y/N).” He spoke, holding the cigarette out.

        “Thoughtful, huh?” Frank chuckled, taking the stick and placing it back in his cigarette box. “I stop caring about that 20 years ago.” 

        “You’ve been smoking that long?” Andrew questioned, surprised.

        “You're bound to pick it up after dealing with that woman.” Frank huffed. “(Y/N)’s got her moments too.” 

        “She does?” Andrew responded, surprised.

        (Y/N)? Really? He’d be shocked if she even raised her voice. Even when he was yelling and shaking her back at the hospital, she didn’t try fighting or talking back, just cowered.

        “Yeah.” Frank nodded. “Though, we all have our moments.”

        “What’s hers?” Andrew questioned before he could think.

        “What’s yours?” Frank retorted.

        Andrew opened his mouth to speak, before deciding to just shut up. Yeah, he’d rather not talk about his moments either.  

        “Touché…” Andrew nodded, crossing his arms.

        “Do you have any farming experience?” Frank questioned.

        Andrew looked at him funny, caught off-guard from the unexpected question. “No… why? Is that on the job requirement?” Andrew chuckled, making a poor joke. 

        “Rose has a family farm, and it’ll be in (Y/N)’s name when she dies.” Frank spoke. “So, Rose is pretty adamant on a guy who can farm.”

        “So?” Andrew questioned. “I mean, does (Y/N) even want that? Why is she even in the city as a nurse if she’s supposed to take over the farm?”

        “She doesn’t want it.” Frank smiled, taking an inhale of his nicotine, before exhaling. “Acres upon acres of land. Selling the land is hundred thousands, maybe even a few million. But selling the land with the family business included, that’s a guaranteed 5 million or more.” 

        If Andrew was smoking a cigarette, he’d be choking on smoke now—well, even without a cigarette in his mouth, he was practically choking on his spit, shocked.

        “W-wait—ack—really?!” he gasped, coughing. 

        “Yeah.” Frank smirked, proud as if he was the one bestowing upon his daughter a fortune. “But she doesn’t want it.”

        “Why?” Andrew questioned, his jaw dropped.

        Who the hell would reject that much money? He thought.

        “I don’t know.” Frank shrugged. “I don’t care what her reasoning is. If she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t want it. I’m not going to try and get an answer. Sometimes you just gotta follow what your heart says.” 

        Andrew looked over at Frank, before groaning. 

        “That’s… kind of stupid.” Andrew commented.

        “You just don’t have the heart to understand it.” Frank hummed, tapping the end of his cigarette, watching as grey ashes fell from the burning end of the stick.

        "Can I ask you something?" Andrew spoke up.

        "Is it stupid?" Frank questioned. 

        "Maybe?" Andrew chuckled, but his voice held a sense of nervousness. 

        "Shoot." Frank nodded his head Andrew's way, telling Andrew to proceed. 

        "Why do you stay with Rose?" Andrew questioned. "No offense, but she's kind of... a bitch."

        Andrew sure was bold...

        Frank hissed, gritting his teeth like the question physically hurt him. 

        "Ah... Sometimes I wonder that myself." Frank grumbled, raising his cigarette to his mouth, inhaling as he thought, before he blew out the smoke. "I think I stay because it feels natural." 

        "Natural?" Andrew repeated, confused. 

        "When you stay with someone for so long, their bad qualities just seem like qualities in your life." Frank sighed. "A routine builds, and overtime, you just follow that routine on reflex. Every bad thing just feels like second-nature to you... There’s not much for people like me in this world, so I have to take what I can get." Frank cleared his throat and smiled. "But hey, maybe that's just natural for me."

        Andrew turned his attention back out to the city, staring down at the people who walked on the streets, talking on their phones or window-shopping. 

        "No, I think I understand you." Andrew nodded.

        Sure, he can't relate 100%, but he thinks he knows what Frank means. If Andrew actually remembered what happened before quarantine, maybe he’d have a better understanding.

        What he does know from now, is that his past self was stitched to Ashley’s side; who sewed who together, he’s still unsure. 

        Ashley’s made him do tons of bad things as far as he’s aware of. He’s had to kill people, eat people, sacrifice people to summon demons; he doesn’t know where the bad ends and the good begins in himself.

        Maybe his past self was just used to Ashley’s ways too, that it felt normal just as Rose’s ways feel normal to Frank.

        But if that’s the case, where does (Y/N) fall in?

        Andrew sighed, a knife of guilt stabbing his chest as he stared out at the city.

        Jesus, where was Ashley? She was still missing. He hasn’t seen her in at least three or four days now. Or has it been a week? Shit, he can’t remember? Why can’t he remember how long it’s been? That’s his sister for goodness sake, where is she? Is she okay? 

        The mens’ attention were turned to the closed balcony door, they could hear yelling, but they couldn’t hear exactly what they were shouting about.

        “Don’t worry much about it, it’s not too rare for those two.” Frank sighed. 

        Pushover. Andrew thought to himself, his eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated if he should go in there or not. He’d rather not (Y/N) get hurt, and he doesn’t want any neighbors to be curious of them and accidentally discover his identity. 

        “Shouldn’t you do something? It is your family in there.” Andrew spoke up.

        “I believe that problem is their problem.” Frank hummed, inhaling his addictive substance. “I don’t have nothing to do with it because I’m not welcome in their girl talk.” 

        “Seriously?” Andrew scoffed, annoyed at Frank’s lack of concern for the pair of women. “If they fight so much, shouldn’t you be the voice of reason?” 

        “It’s not worth getting chewed out for.” Frank retorted, exhaling smoke. “Life works in mysterious ways. It’ll resolve or it won’t, it’s as simple as that.” 

        Andrew rolled his eyes. He’d chew Frank out himself if he wasn’t currently wheelchair-bound.

        “But… I’m worried for her.” Frank admitted, looking out to the city. “I’m afraid she’ll end up like me. Or worse.” 

        Andrew tilted his head to Frank, unsure if he should try and pry into that or not.

        The balcony door suddenly ripped opened, (Y/N) appearing there as she peered at the two men. Her face held a frown and her skin was pale. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, her eyebrows furrowed before she spoke:

        “Papa, you need to leave. Me and Andrew have plans today.” 

        “Right. I still remember.” Frank sighed, pressing his cigarette’s burning end to the balcony railing, smushing the fire out. 

        Frank walked back into the apartment as Andrew followed, wheeling himself inside. (Y/N) shut the balcony doors and locked them tightly, before looking over at her parents.

        “Well, it was lovely to see you again. Thank you for stopping by and checking up on me, it means a lot.” (Y/N) forced a smile, clasping her hands together. 

        “Anytime, kiddo.” Frank smiled, before it dropped. “Okay, well, maybe not anytime. I mean, we don’t want you getting hurt again. And gas is pretty expensive too…” 

        “I’ll make sure to be more careful for now on.” (Y/N) reassured. 

        “Let’s go, Frank. I want to get lunch now.” Rose huffed, grabbing her husband’s arm.

        “Be safe. I love you, Papa, Mama.” (Y/N) smiled.

        (Y/N) gave a goodbye hug to her father, before going for a hug from Rose, but Rose refused as she walked out the door swiftly.

        “Ah, you know her…” Frank sighed, before walking over and shaking Andrew’s hand. “You know, Andrew. You’ve been looking pretty familiar this whole time I’ve seen you, but I just haven’t been able to put my finger on it until now…”

        Fuck. (Y/N) and Andrew thought at the same time.

        While Andrew thought his identity and crimes were a secret, (Y/N) was aware of them; however, she wasn’t willing to turn him in, having a sort of strange pull from him to her. If Frank somehow knew about Andrew, then why is he telling them this?

        “I-I do?” Andrew stuttered, nervous as his face paled, a struggling smile painting his lips.

        “Yeah, you look like my future son-in-law!” Frank cackled, letting go of Andrew’s hand.

        Andrew practically deflated of air as it escaped his mouth, glad to have not had his suspicions right.

        “D-do I?” he chuckled, breathless as he got over his previous scare.

        “Jesus, Papa… Don’t go saying things like that.” (Y/N) breathed, releasing her own breath she had held in. “You might scare him off by talking about such topics so early into our relationship…”

        “I just had to have the last word.” Frank shrugged, smirking before he walked out the front door and down the apartment stairs. “Nice meeting you, Andrew. Stay safe, (Y/N). I love you, sport!”

        (Y/N) smiled, waving her hand as she watched Frank hop into his pickup truck, Rose sitting in the passenger seat with the AC blowing. Frank drove out of the parking lot as the couple watched them leave. 

        “So…” (Y/N) sighed, her forced smile dropping as she looked back at Andrew. “You wanna out now? Get some lunch then go shopping for some clothes?”

        “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” Andrew nodded, smiling.

        .

        .         Andrew always knew the stereotype that girls love shopping. He recalls Ashley browsing through the Internet during quarantine, saving a link of a cute choker from Hot Topic or searching the web high and low for a cheap pair of Doc Martens. 

        He was under the impression girls liked shopping for themselves, but (Y/N) proved him wrong with how much shirts and pants she kept adding to their basket. 

        She didn’t like shopping for herself—she liked shopping for him. 

        Andrew had a basket full of clothes sitting on his lap, another basket hanging off (Y/N)’s arm as she held up a shirt, bringing it to Andrew’s chest as she pictured him in it, before she threw the shirt into her basket.

        “Jesus, (Y/N). Don’t you think this is enough?” Andrew groaned.

        He was being to understand why kids complained about back to school shopping with their mothers at Old Navy. If his legs weren’t broken and he was standing throughout this whole ordeal, he’s certain his legs would be cramping and he would sit down on the dirty public floor with no shame.

        “No way. You’re staying with me, so you gotta be set.” (Y/N) spoke, feeling the fabrics to make sure they were comfortable and that it matched her taste.

        “Maybe we’ll go to a few more stores after this.” (Y/N) hummed. “Like, we can go somewhere you’d be into. Perhaps you’d like those sarcastic shirts from Spencer’s.” (Y/N) teased, giggling.

        “Ha ha.” Andrew laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

        He’s not sure exactly what his style is, he just likes being comfortable—then again, he kept rotating between two or three shirts a week during quarantine. Anything after quarantine, he doesn’t remember, so he doesn’t recall what his favorite clothing store is.

        “I can’t remember what my favorite store is…” Andrew admitted, a sort of sorrowful look in his eyes.

        (Y/N) noticed his gaze and halted her movement. “Well… we’ll just have to find a new favorite store.” She smiled. “You seem to like dark and comfy clothes, let’s try my favorite sweatshirt shop after this. They have sweatpants there are to die for! You might find something you like." 

        "Nah, don't bother..." Andrew muttered.

        He still felt a little iffy about this. It felt weird having someone spend money on him like this, much less someone he hasn't known for even a week yet—much less his former nurse who's now housing him. He already feels awkward enough having to bother her for shelter (even if she was the one that did suggest it), so he feels even worse having her buy him clothes. 

        (Y/N) heard his words, but willingly ignored him; either way, she was still going to end up going into that store, that was inevitable. 

        "Here, why don't you try some of these on while I continue browsing?" (Y/N) suggested. "Don't be afraid to tell me what you do and don't like. I'd rather buy you something you'd enjoy and wear, okay?" 

        "What? You're not going to help me change?" Andrew teased, smiling. "I am limited, you know."

        "Oh please, you changed into your clothes just fine this morning." (Y/N) spoke, rolling her eyes playfully at his teasing.

        "Worth a shot." Andrew shrugged, smirking before wheeling himself into the changing rooms, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

        (Y/N) looked around at the clothes surrounding them. Surprisingly, it was hard trying to find clothes or colors that fit Andrew's style. Having a white shirt causes a weird contrast between his hair, and not in a good way. Bright and vibrant colors such as yellows, reds, and oranges were an automatic no, it made him look far too pale. Blues and purples made him look a bit silly; a dark blue could work, but the plain color just matches his eyes poorly. It was like Andrew was made for boring, monochromatic colors. She relied on blacks and greys, but she was able to find a dark green flannel that worked. Flannels and sweaters seemed to be the only thing that looked good on him, which was pretty unfortunate considering he has such a handsome face. 

        (Y/N) pondered if she should stop at just clothes. She doesn’t mind getting cologne and bath products, maybe a pair of shoes too. 

        She started wondering what scents Andrew would be into. Mint, lemon, pine tree, a mix of all three? Maybe he likes more woodsy and musky scents? Or maybe he likes the more citrusy scents? Perhaps beach-like and sandalwood? Maybe an infusion of all? 

        (Y/N) heard the store’s bell ring, signaling a customer entered the store. She looked over at the door, her heart dropping once she saw who it was.

        “No fucking way…” she whispered to herself, almost hissing as she gritted her teeth.

        A mix of annoyance and fear brewed inside of her. She quickly looked around for a place to hide, before ducking into the clothing rack and hiding there. 

        Please, please. To anyone above listening to this. Please don’t let them see Andrew. Please don’t let them see me. Please don’t let them see us together… (Y/N) practically pleaded, looking up into the sky and pressing her hands together in a prayer. 

        There was silence for a few moments, followed by the store’s bell ringing; either signaling another customer entering, or exiting.

        (Y/N) peeked through the clothing, seeing nothing except a small boy and his mother shopping together.

        There was a few taps of what sounded like heeled shoes, before the clothing rack was ripped open, causing a surprised yelp to escape (Y/N)’s lips.

        The perpetrator's strawberry blonde hair glistened brightly under the store lights, her glossed pink lips in a wide smile as her eyes sparkled. 

        “(Y/N)!” Penelope beamed, smiling widely. 

        “H-hey, Pen…” (Y/N) smiled, nervous as she stood up fully from her crouched position behind the clothing racks. 

        “What are you doing there, silly?” Penelope questioned, opening the clothes wider for (Y/N) to exit.

        “I dropped my pen. It’s somewhere now…” (Y/N) lied, shoving her hands into her jacket as she stepped out into the aisle. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t important. I can just buy a new one.” 

        “So, what are you here shopping for in the men’s section?” Penelope questioned, smiling.

        “Just… looking for a new jacket.” (Y/N) muttered, coming up with an excuse. 

        “Really?” Penelope hummed, looking down  at the jacket (Y/N) wore. “I don’t… think that the men's section exactly matches your style? They don’t have much pastels or stars here.”

        “Just hoping I would be lucky.” (Y/N) smiled. “I just like the more oversized things, I guess.. They actually have pockets.” She spoke, before redirecting her attention back to Penelope. “So, why are you here in the men's clothing section?”

        “Oh, you know!” Penelope laughed. “My husband needs some new clothes so I’m just here looking for some. I know what looks better on him.”

        A nauseating pit formed in (Y/N)’s stomach as she forced herself to smile. (Y/N) forced herself to look down at Penelope's ring finger, but she couldn't find a ring on it. 

        (Y/N) doesn't like Penelope much, even if they do have a "friendship." She hangs out with Penelope outside of work merely for her social image, and so hopefully if she went missing, Penelope would at least tell the police. Though, with what Penelope's done in the past, it's hard to believe Penelope would even walk 100 meters near a police station. 

        “Husband, huh?” (Y/N) spoke, resisting the urge to cringe. “That’s lovely… Um, where is he?”

        “He’s at home. Don’t worry about him.” Penelope smiled, the corner of her lip twitching slightly, threatening to fall. 

        “Right.” (Y/N) muttered. “Well, nice seeing you…” She spoke, turning around to quickly walk away to the other side of the store, but Penelope grabbed her arm, stopping her.

        “Wait, I completely forgot to ask you! I’m so inconsiderate!” Penelope frowned. “How are you holding up? Are you feeling better after what happened?” 

        “Oh yeah… as dandy as ever.” (Y/N) forced a smile. “You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll be back at work in just a few short weeks.”

        “Speaking of work, Hailey’s parents stopped by recently.” Penelope spoke, causing (Y/N)’s smile to drop.

        “Crap, what did they say? How are they holding up?” (Y/N) questioned, suddenly interested in the conversation. 

        "Well, Mrs. Burnson didn't take the news well, neither did Mr. Burnson. But then again, who does take the death of their kid well?" Penelope sighed. 

        "Yeah, you can say that again." (Y/N) sighed.

        It's natural for parents to grieve over their children and become aggressive in those circumstances. Something as traumatic as that can drive anyone insane. The parents might blame themselves or the hospital staff. A few months ago, (Y/N) had to break the news of a patient's death to their parents. The child was three-years-old and died from a case of severe pneumonia. Promptly after receiving the news, security had to be called once the mother started choking out (Y/N). 

        Yeah, not so fun times. 

        "Oh, they were mad. After receiving the body and hosting a funeral a few days later, they came back to the hospital and barged through the front lobby looking for you, but they were promptly detained by security and the police came and arrested them." Penelope explained.

        "That's horrible..." (Y/N) frowned.

        Hailey's death was hard on everyone. It hurt pretty bad for (Y/N), but that's to be expected considering she was Hailey's nurse for three years. It would be worse on her parents. Even if the parents did constantly travel for work, (Y/N) still felt they should've visited Hailey more, maybe with their presence, Hailey's emotional health would've healed a bit. There are studies between depressed patients dying more often than those surrounded by family, friends, and support. But (Y/N) can't reverse time nor tell a parent how to parent, so the possibility of Hailey's death being different (or nonexistent) will just remain as a alternative outcome based on the events. 

        There's a possibility Doctor Ryan also feels a sense of despair or sorrow with Hailey gone, considering Hailey has been Doctor Ryan's patient for about just the same time as she was (Y/N)'s. When (Y/N) returns to work, she'll make sure to check up on him.

        "Hey, we should shop together." Penelope suggested, trying to lighten up the pitiful mood. "We couldn't hang out due to your accident, but we can hang out now that you're up on your feet!"

        "Oh, I would love too." (Y/N) smiled, looking away as she tried to come up with a lie. "But actually, I have to get home and cook dinner..."

        "We can have dinner together!" Penelope suggested, smiling.

        "Oh, but I'm put on a diet so it'll just be boring soup." (Y/N) added.

        "That's fine. I like soup!" Penelope reaffirmed. 

        "I can't because—"

        (Y/N) was cut off by the sound of the fitting room door creaking open, following by rubber grazing against the tile. Penelope's eyes traveled behind (Y/N), surprised. 

        God fucking damn it. (Y/N) thought internally.

        She sucked in a breath before turning to look at the wheelchair-bound male.

        Andrew's eyes focused on Penelope, a feeling of annoyance creeping up behind him..

        Why the hell was she here? Does this shop look like a damn hospital? Why was she here talking with (Y/N)?

        "These fit. Ready to go?" Andrew spoke, ignoring Penelope's existence.

        Andrew talking to her just confirmed that the two came here together, which looks pretty bad on (Y/N)'s part.

        "Yeah..." (Y/N) nodded, looking over to see Penelope's expression.

        Penelope's eyes were wide, shocked as she kept glancing at Andrew and her fellow co-worker. She fiddled with her purse strap nervously, before clearing her throat.

        "Um... (Y/N). You're aware of the hospital policies, right?" Penelope questioned, frowning. "What are you doing with a former patient? Having any sort of connection outside of the hospital is strictly frowned upon and can result in termination!" 

        "Penelope, I can explain." (Y/N) hissed, lowering her voice so the other shoppers nearby can't eavesdrop. 

        "I thought you said to leave him—"

        Right. Penelope knows Andrew's secret just as (Y/N) does. (Y/N) was barely able to convince (bully) Penelope using extortion to keep her quiet when she confronted her at the hospital. She had implanted the idea that Andrew might attack the other patients if either her or Penelope sent a tip to the police, but now that they were out of the hospital, in public with (Y/N) going clothes shopping for him like nothing was wrong—this would definitely look suspicious to Penelope. 

        Something needs to be done before Penelope's big mouth goes and tells someone who will go to the police.

        "Penelope!" (Y/N) snapped, her lips contorted into a strained smile. "Let's not talk about this here. We can discuss work later, yeah?" 

        Penelope's eyebrows furrowed, hesitant before she eventually sighed. "Okay, okay..." she muttered, nervous as she looked between the two. 

        "So..." (Y/N) coughed, clearing her throat as the tension between the three felt suffocating. "You said you wanted to hang out with us. We can go get boba." she suggested, although it sounded more like a demand. 

        "Y-yeah..." Penelope nodded. "Let's do that."

        .

        .

        The sky was grey, a storm brewing in the air and (Y/N)'s mind as she walked next to Andrew, Penelope at his side (she really didn't want to walk alongside Penelope at the moment). She had a medium cup in her hand, an oversized straw between her lips as she sucked a boba into her mouth, popping the fruity ball with her teeth. Her other hand rested in her jacket's pocket, making a fist as her nails dug into her flesh. 

        She watched as Andrew drank his own boba. He opted on going for the same order as (Y/N) did since he's never had boba before. He doesn't look displeased, so (Y/N) can only guess that he's satisfied with her order. 

        Penelope had a passionfruit slushie in her hand, strawberry and kiwi bobas mixed into her drink. Would that be considered an official and traditional boba, (Y/N) doesn't know nor does she care. She has other things to focus about. 

        (Y/N) observed Penelope's outfit. She wore a cute pink sweater with a white shirt underneath, and a blush red circle skirt with brown pumped boots. Sometimes (Y/N) felt envious of the way Penelope looks, how she can pull off an outfit like that. Whenever (Y/N) tries to wear something cute like that, it doesn't look cute, but childish. Maybe that's her mother Rose speaking, but it made it hard for her to put on outfits like that, only on special occasions such as when she greeted Andrew and helped him into her apartment; she always has an imaginary audience in public. 

        When (Y/N)'s not indulging in her feelings, loathing everything about the way Penelope walks to the way she talks and dresses, she's pondering how the hell she can get rid of Penelope before the girl yaps to someone about Andrew's existence.

        (Y/N) might've convinced Penelope that she would send an anonymous tip to the police to have Andrew arrested after leaving the hospital, but since Andrew was here in the flesh rolling alongside (Y/N), she really doubts Penelope will believe that now. She'll have to come up with another lie to keep Penelope at bay, but while she tries to conduct a new lie, she'll have to keep Penelope by her side at all times to prevent a slip-up. 

        "Here. This is my favorite sweats store." (Y/N) smiled, opening the door for Andrew and Penelope. "Have you gone here, Pen?" she questioned.

        She'll have to keep Penelope engaged in conversation so Penelope doesn't get lost in her head and come up with an excuse to leave. 

        "I can't say I have!" Penelope smiled, walking into the shop.

        "They’re great. Very comfortable.” (Y/N) spoke, entering the store.

        She tried to keep Penelope in small talk so that Penelope couldn’t leave, pretty much leaving Andrew to his devices (much to his dismay). 

        He stifled a yawn and looked at Penelope, annoyed before semi-looking around at the clothes. He was a bit tired, probably hitting a wave of afternoon sleepiness after having been shopping and grabbing lunch with the girls. Still, he couldn't help but he annoyed. 

        Just what the hell was so interesting about Penelope that (Y/N) had to stop paying attention to him?

        It was a sickening feeling, really. Even if he was an introvert, he wasn’t really used to being alone. With Ashley gone, he found himself thinking a lot more than, his thoughts seemed louder than ever—but (Y/N) helped ease those echoing voices. With Penelope around and distracting her, Andrew’s thoughts couldn’t have been more louder than ever.

        He imagined Penelope with a nail stuck between her forehead, nestled right under her bangs. Penelope looked pretty similar to that lady he killed in his old apartment using a nail gun, he’s sure he could find something lying around.

        No, that’s not good. He thought. Best just leave it be. Surely she can’t be around for too long. Eventually she'll have to go back home. 

        He can’t risk anymore attention drawn to him. Just being in a wheelchair in public makes him nervous, he’s more likely to stand out from a crowd, and he’d hate for a police officer to catch attention of him.

        By now, the police must’ve expanded the manhunt once realizing Andrew’s not in his home city. This manhunt could’ve spread to a few cities around, which means this city’s law enforcement must be up to date about his crimes and runaway. 

        Another thing that worried him is if he’s a target, then so is (Y/N). If the police know she’s with him, that could be bad. He can’t let her find out anything about him. If she turns him in, he’s screwed. If she doesn’t turn him in, then they’re both screwed. She’ll be charged with hiding a criminal, possibly even being an accomplice with the right (or for their case, wrong) detective. 

        Yeah, he didn’t like the idea of that being a possibility. 

        (Y/N) grabbed a bunch of random clothes from the hangers, not bothering to look at the sizes or patterns really, placing them down in Andrew’s lap. 

        “Here. Go try these on.” (Y/N) hummed.

        “Um… okay.” Andrew nodded, confused at her haste, but deciding to listen as he found his way to the dressing room. 

        (Y/N) waited a few seconds as Andrew entered and locked the door, before she turned her attention to Penelope. 

        “I figured we can talk more outside…” (Y/N) smiled. 

        Penelope looked over at the dressing rooms, uncertain if they should leave Andrew, before she eventually agreed. “Okay…” 

        They walked outside and looked up at the sky. It was starting to sprinkle, the sky turning dark at 11 AM from the rain clouds. It would turn out into a storm soon, that’s usually how the weather in this city goes.

        “Sorry. I just didn’t want Andrew to hear us.” (Y/N) sighed, making her way to the alley of the clothing store.

        “I don’t understand. I thought you said he was dangerous? Why are you hanging out with him? And why isn’t he in jail?” Penelope questioned almost immediately. 

        “I tried to go to the station.” (Y/N) lied, looking at the ground as small wet circles started to appear on the ground, clear crystals falling from the sky and impaling the earth. “But the police didn’t believe me. I wrote a police report and that was it. They didn’t call me or anything.” 

        “Drats…” Penelope sighed, putting her hands together.

        “It makes sense. They might’ve went a done a background check on me when doing the case. With my records, it’s no wonder why they rejected the case. They probably thought I was spouting nonsense.” (Y/N) hummed, crossing her arms. 

        “Still, they should take your case serious! Just because you’re bipolar doesn’t mean anything!” Penelope huffed, balling her fists.

        For a second, (Y/N) felt a pang of guilt lying to Penelope. Seeing Penelope so worked up on the behalf of her was almost admirable, before she pushed down those feelings.

        “Don’t worry too much. It’s just life.” (Y/N) sighed. “They’re just doing their jobs.”

        Penelope frowned, her expression showing her distaste in (Y/N)’s lie. 

        “I'm sure I can think of something quick to get rid of him." (Y/N) spoke.

        "Like what?" Penelope questioned. 

        "Well, he's a public store right now..." (Y/N) smiled. "When we leave, I can send an anonymous tip to the police station that he was here. They'll talk to the store owners and review the store's camera footage; hence proving he's in the city. That'll keep the police on their toes and look out for him. So the next time he's in public... bam! We got him!" 

        "Well... it's not the worst idea." Penelope hummed, before a smile made way on her face. "Yes! That works! Men like him shouldn't be on the streets!"

        "Problem solved." (Y/N) smiled. 

        She's officially convinced Penelope to lay off the situation. Now that Penelope is under the impression that (Y/N) secretly has everything under control, she doesn't have to worry about Penelope anymore; so long as Penelope keeps her big mouth shut.

        Still, there's always a lingering threat that Penelope could spout her mouth to the wrong person and have (Y/N)'s secret close. (Y/N) will just have to keep a close eye on her then. Penelope only talks about other people's wrongdoings, never her own.

        "But... what if he kills someone? Either tonight, or tomorrow?" Penelope spoke up. 

        "He's wheelchair bound." (Y/N) scoffed. "I'd like to see him try to run and stab a person."

        "Guns exist!" Penelope retorted.

        "If that's the case, then the police are going to be on alert." (Y/N) tried to reason convince Penelope to stay out of it, to stop thinking logically. 

        "But then we're useless!" Penelope snapped back. 

        "Excuse me?" (Y/N) questioned, offended and confused.

        "Don't you ever wonder why we do this? I mean... right now someone else could die, so the people we saved are suddenly unimportant... because we couldn't save them all..." Penelope frowned. "No matter how many people we save, whether it's 100 or 1000, it's irrelevant when we can't save just one." 

        "And?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "And it hurts!" Penelope hissed, an ugly grimace on her pretty face. "It hurts knowing we couldn't save them! It hurts knowing I couldn't of been good enough!"

        "Penelope, we are humans. We're not a God that can heal people!" (Y/N) spoke, rolling her eyes.

        "Well, I'm scared!" Penelope shouted. 

        There was a pregnant pause, the two of them staring at each other. (Y/N) stared at her with confusion, frustration, anger, and a sense of betrayal. 

        Penelope was a threat.

        "Why?" (Y/N) prompted cautiously.

        "Why? Why? Because this job sucks!" Penelope hissed, stomping her foot. "I hate our job, that's why!"

        "Why?" (Y/N) hissed, slowly starting to circle Penelope's body, before standing behind Penelope.

        Penelope turned to face (Y/N) as (Y/N) blocked her exit. (Y/N) planted herself in the middle of the alleyway, that way if Penelope tries to run, (Y/N) can stop her.

        "I'm scared! Don't you get it? We're constantly exposed to these shitty patients who just whine and whine about their fucking pain. They have the audacity to cry and cry about a broken pinkie when there's people dying alone in their hospital beds. There's homeless people from the streets looking for shelter so they purposely hurt themselves just for shelter and food! This is really the kind of reality we have?" Penelope shouted. "And all the druggies! All these assholes purposely hurting themselves so they can get prescriptions from their doctors for opoids, fucking drugged up and killing themselves for people dying who actually need that medicine!" 

        "The bedside manner! Having to act nice to these assholes that hit and shove us to where we need to have security to strap them down on the bed so they don't attack us! They verbally abuse us constantly. And we're constantly exposed to fucking unsanitary crap! Shit, blood, piss, vomit! If I have to wipe one more old man's asshole after a shit, I'll snap! We're exposed to flus, viruses, infections, all this shit that can kill us too; and people act like we're doing the bare minimum! That we're there to give them their medicine and lunch like a fast food order and that's it, oh so easy!" Penelope hissed, grabbing her hair and tugging on it, stressed out. "And their family members constantly berating us. 'took you long enough to get here' and 'can't you hear the buzzer' and shit. I have seven patients with seven different problems and seven different lives to keep alive, all piled on me 12 hours for the night and I have to make sure nothing happens to them or me! Because we're always understaffed cause nobody wants to be responsibility for another person's life and I don't blame them!"

        "We can't even date! We're gone all night so that intimacy of sleeping next to our partner's are gone! We sleep during the day and we're up at night; on our days on and off! Agatha in cardiology has a whore of a husband because while she's out at night saving lives and risking her health these strangers; he's saving his balls from being full! I feel sorry for Hannah being a single mom and a night nurse! Poor girl gets 2 hours of sleep and her kids hate her because she's always sleeping or working!" Penelope spat. "And the harassment. I'm sick of picking up towels middle-aged men purposely drop so they can get a view of my ass! I'm sick of getting groped by adults with teenage hormones! I'm sick of their constant attitude, acting like "the customer is always right" like it's a damn McDonalds! I give these damn patients more respect and care than I give myself these days! Here we are, slaving away, working 12 hours a night, driving home and disinfecting ourselves in the shower and eating freezer dinners, before getting 4 or 5 hours to sleep, then waking right up to go back and serve these entitled assholes. When's the last time one of them said 'please' or 'thank you?'" 

        "Then switch to children. Come work with me." (Y/N) reasoned. 

        "I can't! I'm scared of what I'll do!" Penelope hissed, tears welling up in her eyes.

        "Do what?" (Y/N) questioned. 

        "Because I killed them!" Penelope snapped. "I killed Barron Dixon and his mother! You know it and I know it!"

        Barron Dixon. Six years ago, he was placed in Foxlord Hospital Psychiatric branch after suffering a manic depression episode; the same hospital Penelope worked at. Penelope was Barron's night nurse, but his mother suspected something off about the nurse.

        Once Barron started developing weakness in his muscles and retrograde amnesia, not being able to recall how long he was in the hospital, his age, or his birthday; his mother grew suspicious of the nurse. Mrs. Dixon stayed overnight in the hospital, hiding in the patient's bathroom until she caught Penelope in the act. Penelope had been lacing Barron's puddings with Rohypnol, a date-rape drug that's completely odorless and tasteless; so Barron never suspected a thing. 

        The next day, Mrs. Dixon was found dead in the hospital room, stabbed 52 times with a dull object that was later identified as Penelope's key to the medicine cabinet. Barron's body was never found, but it's safe to say Penelope stole the body after cameras caught her parking her car behind the hospital and dragging a black trash bag out, throwing it into her backseat. What she does with Barron's body? (Y/N) would rather not know. 

        The only reason (Y/N) knows about Penelope keeping Barron is that Penelope weekly goes to clothing stores and buys more clothing for Barron's dead body as he rots and ruins the clothes she keeps buys. Penelope is under the impression that Barron is with her till death do both part, or at least, until she finds a new victim; hence why she's still a nurse. But it seems the guilt must be keeping up with her for her to snap like this. 

        There were no police reports regarding the incident. Foxlord was kept on close watch, but they laid Penelope off without reporting her to the police. In cases like that, having a crooked nurse destroys trust in a hospital brand, so the hospital covered up the case. In fact, the only reason (Y/N) connected the dots was looking at Penelope's resume via Treegrowth hospital computers (the hospital they currently work at).

        Sure, it was illegal looking up those documents, but everything the hospital does is illegal.

        Treegrowth hospitals do everything illegal, even the nurses and doctors are convicted criminals who've served their time in prison or are escaping the law. Penelope is a murderer who escaped the law by moving across the country. Doctor Ryan is a recovering drug addict. Ruby from dayshift is a convicted felon who murdered her ex-husbands for life insurance. (Y/N) is a nurse who previously was framed for the death of Ben Rivers, and now a current murderer for the death of Ashley Graves. All the nurses and doctors are freaks or criminals, but now she fits right in. 

        Of course, their patients are unaware that all the doctors and nurses are criminals; it gets covered up just like every other hospital case. 

        Treegrowth hospital is also famous for their organ harvesting ring! Well, infamous in the Black Market, that is. When a patient dies, they pluck up the organs and sell them; it's possible Hailey's heart and kidneys are floating around on the dark web. The ring is in connection with other hospitals nearby too, even branching out to other cities. And alias, the pyramid scheme of money laundering! While some patients donate to the "children in need" and the "patients that need liver transplants", in actuality the money is going to the imports and exports of the hospital. 

        The organ harvesting and money laundering is a department (Y/N) and Penelope have agreed to stay clear of in the hospital; but they're still just as guilty, being aware of the wrongdoings yet refusing to do anything about it. 

        Penelope stays for love. (Y/N) stays because it's her dream job, even if the job didn't choose her. 

        "I know." (Y/N) sighed. "We all know, Pen. We know you killed them, and we don't judge you for it." 

        Well, that's a lie, but it won't hurt to lie in a situation like this. 

        "I killed her because she tried to get in the way of our love. And I killed him because he didn't want my love." Penelope admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. "And I'm scared because if I do it again, how do I know I won't get away with it? I can only have so much luck before it runs out."

        "It's okay, Penelope." (Y/N) smiled. "It doesn't matter what you did in the past."

        "Will it be wrong if I do it again?" Penelope questioned. 

        (Y/N) stared blankly, surprised. How was she supposed to answer that?

        "I... what?" (Y/N) questioned, shocked. 

        "How much money will it take for you to give me Andrew?" Penelope questioned, fidgeting with her purse strap. 

        "You want... Andrew?" (Y/N) repeated, surprised.

        "When you weren't looking, I poured some Rohypnol down his boba straw. He was too busy looking at you to notice." Penelope explained. "It'll get him off the streets and out of the public, so he wouldn't hurt anyone. I'd keep him in check. Just how much for you to keep quiet?"

        A sickening feeling arose in (Y/N)'s stomach, shocked as she stared at Penelope with a blank expression. She placed her hands in her jacket's pockets, feeling around before grabbing her pocket knife. After Ren, you can never be too safe out on the streets. Honestly, she should've broke hospital protocol and keep the knife in her scrub pockets to try and prevent Ashley's attack; but now's not the time to think about that.

        "But you, just keep getting in my way. You took over as his nurse, even having the nerve to visit him constantly during our night shifts, so he was brainwashed by you, refusing for any other nurse's care and love." Penelope hissed, reaching her hand into her purse.

        That's dangerous territory. For all (Y/N) knows, Penelope could have a pocket knife too. Or she could have a gun. Hell, she can even blow some powdered Rohypnol into (Y/N)'s face, and it would blind her and it wouldn't take too long for that to knock her out. 

        "I'm really sorry. I don't mean for you to get hurt again, but love is just a wonderful feeling." Penelope smiled. "You should know, right? That's how you feel about Andrew, right? It's why you won't turn him in..."

        "Penelope, we don't have to do this." (Y/N) frowned, taking a step back for space as Penelope took a step forward.

        "There's a difference between a man and a woman who kills. A man does it for power, but a woman does it for love. All throughout history, men have killed just because, to take and take. Well, I'm tired of being the one to give and give constantly to these scum, I want to take too." Penelope spoke. "I want that love all for myself; but another woman into the equation just won't do. It doesn't matter if it's a poly or not, there will always be a duo, and there will always be a better woman. If there's no other woman, then I'm always the better woman—so you have to go." 

        "How can you even call yourself a woman if all you seek is male companionship? A real woman knows how to take care of herself on her own. You're a woman, not a child." (Y/N) spat, frustrated.

        Like she had any room to talk when all she does is sulk and puke.

        "You think you can just do what you please? There's consequences, and it'll chase you forever! Whether you're good, bad, or in between, there's always a toll to pay! Who says you can avoid it?!" (Y/N) hissed.

        "Who says you can avoid it?" Penelope questioned, before lunging at (Y/N). 

        She pulled a pocketknife out of her purse, recklessly stabbing the air before (Y/N) jumped back and pulled out her own pocket knife.

        “Penelope, stop!” (Y/N) shouted, but Penelope didn’t bother to listen.

        Penelope ran up to (Y/N) with her knife held high in the air, causing (Y/N) to use her free arm and grab Penelope’s forearm. (Y/N) stabbed her knife in Penelope’s wrist, before roughly tugging down and splitting the skin and fat in half.

        It wasn’t her first knife fight after all.

        Penelope let out a scream, dropping her own knife. (Y/N) quickly covered her mouth so nobody nearby could be alerted, before kicking Penelope over onto her back and climbing on top of her body.

        “Stupid bitch! Ungrateful! After I gave you the opportunity to just let this be too!” (Y/N) hissed, stabbing her pocket knife into Penelope’s chest, mimicking her actions with how she killed Ashley.

        “Nothing but desperate whores nowadays! Can’t you find your own man?! He wanted me first, so he’s mine!” (Y/N) snapped, grabbing Penelope’s pocketknife and holding it in her other hand, before stabbing Penelope.

        (Y/N)’s knife went into Penelope’s chest, then Penelope’s knife into Penelope’s chest, until (Y/N) dragged the knives from her chest to her stomach, gutting her open. 

        “Always hated you! I always hated you! I always knew you dragged down our team and you'd be one to quit! Nothing but a pretty face! No brains! I knew you’d pay one day, but you just had to piss. Me. Off!” (Y/N) shouted, before the knives dove into Penelope’s lifeless face.

        Die without love. Die without happiness. Die without honor. Die alone, that’s all she could think of when she looked at Penelope. Nothing but pure, unadulterated rage.

        First she takes a helpless man and his mother’s life, then she has the audacity to try and chain Andrew down to her? To try and buy him like he was a product—like he could ever be hers?

        (Y/N) panted, wiping the blood from the knives off on Penelope’s skirt. 

        The rain poured harder as (Y/N) took a second to compose herself, before letting out a groan. 

        “Jesus... What’s with all the crazy chicks now? What happened to elegance?” (Y/N) groaned, collecting rain water and rinsing her bloody hands using the water.

        She looked around for a place to hide the body. She can’t just leave the girl out in the open, especially because she's unsure if she left any evidence or DNA on Penelope, and she can’t just walk around with a dead body in her arms.

        She contemplated on a dumpster, before realizing she’s might’ve left evidence of the murder on her. She sighed, annoyed before her eyes landed on a public clothing donation box. 

        (Y/N) looked around cautiously, dropping Penelope’s purse onto the ground, before quickly picking Penelope’s lifeless body up. She opened the box’s hatch and shoved Penelope inside of the hatch, repeatedly pushing and pulling the lid before she finally sunk in with the donated clothes and shoes.

        She took off her bloodied jacket, placing it into the clothing donation. This way, it wouldn’t be suspicious if her jacket had blood or if there was any of (Y/N)’s hair on Penelope, because now everyone’s DNA from inside the clothing would be left on Penelope. It’d be nearly impossible for the police to track (Y/N) down once the donation truck comes to collect the clothes. 

        (Y/N) could almost laugh at her luck. In fact, she did laugh. She dedicated a moment to laugh about what just happened; about Penelope slipping a drug into Andrew's drink without her knowing, about having to kill her co-worker, about shedding yet another person's blood on her hands.

        The bodies just keep piling up. 

        (Y/N) looked over at the purse Penelope left. She wiped the rain from her face and crouched down to the ground, opening the purse and looking inside. There was Penelope's phone, her pink wallet, a small bottle of Ibuprofen, her make-up pouch, and perfume.

        (Y/N) picked up the perfume bottle and scoffed. 

        Ah, a woman's beauty is another's poison. (Y/N) thought, thinking back to Ashley, before placing the perfume bottle back into the purse. 

        She looked closer into the purse before spotting a hidden pocket. She unzipped the pocket and found a small box of Rohypnol. She also found a small snack-sized bag of white powder, which must've been crushed Rohypnol tablets. 

        (Y/N) contemplated what she should do with those. In one hand, she’s a bit uncertain leaving the drugs in Penelope’s purse considering just anyone can steal them; and she’d rather not have someone with bad intentions take them. On another hand, she didn’t want to carry date-rape drugs, even if their intended use is for helping with insomnia.

        (Y/N) sighed, before pocketing the bag and box of tablets into her own purse. She’ll just keep it for insomnia, like how it should be used for.

        (Y/N) closed Penelope's purse and grabbed her pocketknife instead. Her pocketknife was a plain one with a black handle, she never thought of personalizing her own pocketknife, she never wanted it to be traced back to her. (Y/N) washed off the pocketknife where the blood that didn't wipe off on Penelope's skirt was left, then folded down the blade and pocketed the knife. She glanced over at Penelope's pocketknife and admired it. 

        It was a regular blade, but the handle was beautiful. It was a rose gold with a small, plastic red rose on the center of the handle meeting the blade. (Y/N) folded down the blade and tapped it against her palm, thinking before ultimately deciding to keep it.

        It’s not like Penelope would be able to use it anymore, and it’d be a shame to throw out a pretty knife.

        She walked back into the store after double-checking there was no blood on her. Once she walked into the store, she looked around for Andrew, before realizing he might be unconscious in the fitting room. 

        She walked to the fitting rooms and knocked on the one she remembered him going into. After hearing no reply, she figured the Rohypnol kicked in and opened the door.

        Andrew sat in his wheelchair, a black sweatshirt on him that belonged to the store as his head laid tilted to the side at what she can only assume is an uncomfortable angle for his neck. 

        (Y/N) smiled, relieved to see him alright and relatively unharmed. 

        She had saved him.

        (Y/N) walked in and closed the door behind her, sorting out all the random sweatshirts she threw at Andrew earlier. She grabbed the dark and monochrome ones in his size that fit, and placed the rest in a neat, folded pile. 

        She walked over to Andrew and gently shook him, though she really wasn’t expecting a reaction. After receiving no response, she removed the sweatshirt he tried on and replaced it with his old sweater. 

        She placed the sweatshirt in the pile with the ones she intended to buy, then looked at herself in the mirror. 

        She was soaked from the rain, and her hair was covering her face like a wet dog. Her face looked pale, and she could still feel her heart trying to calm itself after her previous attack. Her nerves were going haywire as adrenaline pumped in her veins.

        Two attempted murders in one week. (Y/N) thought, sighing. Not only that, but if I kill another person this month, I’ll be an official serial killer.

        She moved her hair out of her eyes and sighed. She looked over and Andrew and took note of his sleeping face.

        She’s never gotten the opportunity to see him up close like this. Sure, she slept next to him last night, but she didn’t bother admiring him much; she was more focused on going to bed and having her parents leave her apartment in the morning.

        (Y/N) reached her hand out, noticing how her hands trembled as she placed her hand on his hair.

        It was surprisingly soft, shocking considering how messy and uncoordinated his hair was. Her palm went lower as it rested on his cheek, her thumb tracing a soft line under his eyes.

        She always thought he had pretty eyes. Even with his eyes closed right now, she can still picture the vibrant green of them inside her head. His eyes were hooded and there were eyebags under their eyes, but those bags were far less present than the ones he had when he first arrived at the hospital, so he’s been catching up on his sleep.

        Her eyes trailed down to his lips, her palm following as her thumb rested on his chin, just shy under his bottom lip. He had pale, thin lips, but she recalled him having a lovely smile and a confident smirk. 

        She could feel his slow, constant breaths, relaxed from the Rohypnol. 

        She felt how warm he was compared to her and couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him, seeking out his warmth.

        God, that feels so good. (Y/N) mentally sighed, melting into his chest. 

        Her posture felt uncomfortable hunching over him, so she got on her knees and continued to hug him.

        His body heat was a wonderful contrast to the cold rain outside as Mother Nature kept punishing the city. It felt even better than last night, and it felt almost like a reward for protecting him from Penelope. 

        (Y/N) smiled, embracing the warmth as she left out a contented breath. She cradled his face and closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his, a gesture that would've been intimate if he was awake. 

        Right. He's still unconscious... (Y/N) thought, opening her eyes as she re-evaluated the situation.

        "Oh, God. What am I doing?" (Y/N) whispered, a pang of disgust and even fear seeping into her chest.

        (Y/N) forced herself up from the ground, letting go of Andrew and sitting down on the fitting room bench. 

        Am I just as bad as her? (Y/N) questioned.

        She's killed two people just like Penelope did. Is she Penelope in this situation? Is Penelope Mrs. Dixon in this situation; trying to break them apart? Is Andrew Barron in this situation; just caught in the crossfire?

        Will he die from her too? 

        Will he upset her just enough to where she'll snap again? 

        (Y/N) didn't want to know the answer to that. She stood up and opened the fitting room door, wheeling Andrew out of the room and walking to the cashier with him in toll. 

        She grabbed two grey jackets on her way out, one to replace the one she had to throw away, and the other to keep Andrew dry from the rain outside. She grabbed a few sweatpants in Andrew's size too, just to make sure he has enough. She walked to the cashier and stood in line, before checking out.

        "Sorry, he just has a little sugar crash, so he's taking his afternoon nap. I kept him out too long, haha!" (Y/N) laughed, smiling when the cashier questioned if Andrew was alright. 

        She wheeled Andrew to the front door, before grabbing one of the jackets she bought and putting it on Andrew, flipping the hood up so he'll stay dry from the rain, then doing the same with herself using the other jacket she bought. She exited the store and mustered up all the strength she could, dragging Andrew into the passenger seat and buckling him up. She folded his wheelchair and put it in the backseat along with the shopping bags before hopping into the car. 

        I'll go get groceries tomorrow instead. (Y/N) thought, looking over at Andrew as she buckled her seatbelt.

        She turned the radio on a random jazz channel, keeping the volume low so it wouldn't disturb Andrew in case he woke up from the noise, and she drove back to her apartment. 

        Once arriving, she took the time to grab her kitchen knife Ashley stabbed her with, along with Ashley's gun and her strange occult charm. She threw the knife in her sink and washed it, then placed Ashley's gun and occult charm in her bedside drawer along with Penelope's Rohypnol and pocketknife, hiding them there. She then managed to retrieve and drag Andrew up her apartment complex steps and unlock her front door, entering the apartment and dragging him to their bedroom. She placed him on their bed and took off his shoes and socks, tucking him into bed. She almost contemplated giving him a goodnight kiss, but not even she was crazy enough to do that. 

        She took off her shoes and was about to change into her pajamas when her phone rang. (Y/N) immediately lunged for her phone, grabbing it and accepting the call before Andrew could wake up.

        "Hello?" she whispered, exiting the bedroom and walking to the living room where she could speak louder.

        "Hello, this is Starworth Hospital. Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?" a woman's voice questioned.

        Starworth Hospital? (Y/N) thought.

        She's not familiar with that hospital, it must be one far away from her. What are they doing calling her?

        "This is her." (Y/N) hummed. "Can I help you?"

        "We regret to inform you that Mr. Frank (L/N) and Mrs. Rose (L/N) have passed away in a car accident."

        "P-passed away? What do you mean they're dead?" (Y/N) questioned, shocked.

        "They were deceased upon arrival. They were involved in a car accident at a gas station and were unfortunately unidentifiable; however Starworth County Police were able to identify them using the surveillance cameras and transactions made at the counter." The woman spoke, as if she was speaking with a paper in front of her face. "You were listed as their daughter under their emergency contacts. We're sorry for your loss." 

        (Y/N)'s heart dropped, spiraling into confusion, pain, and guilt.

        "Is... is there anything I have to do?" (Y/N) questioned. "Do I need to drive over there or... or anything?" 

        "Usually we would request you to come and identify the body, but I don't believe that's possible considering they have third-degree burns and are burnt to a crisp." The woman spoke. "The car crashed into the fuel station right next to them while they were refueling their car."

        Ouch. Talk about breaking the news lightly. 

        "A bill will be sent to you in three weeks. You can use our website to pay once receiving the bill, there will be a QR code to scan." The woman explained. 

        "Excuse me? Pay for what?" (Y/N) scoffed. "You didn't do anything! You said they were dead once arriving to the hospital!" 

        "Someone has to pay for the ambulance." The woman responded. 

        "Yeah? You can take that bill and shove it up your—" there was an audible click, the woman hanging up.

        Well, now she knows how her patient's families feel.

        "You stupid fucking cunt!" she hissed, grabbing her living room vase and flowers.

        She was about to throw the vase against the ground, but remembered Andrew was just next door in her bedroom. She carefully placed the vase down, grabbed her shoes and keys, and exited her apartment, locking the door behind her. She hopped into her car and slammed the gas, reckless swerving out of the parking and speeding down the roads. It took her an hour before she spotted the familiar sight of the forest amongst the heavy rainfall. 

        She parked her car and stormed out into the forest, not bothering to grab a flashlight despite how dark it was. (Y/N) trudged through the heavy mud forming on the ground as she shoved bushes and tree branches violently out of her way. She finally made it to Ashley's gravesite, recognizing the scenery as she looked down at the ground. 

        "Is this your doing?" she shouted. "Is this your damn demon buddy? Was you dying apart of your contract with them or something? Is this you trying to get back at me? You stupid bitch, answer me!" 

        She stared at the ground, waiting for a response. Waiting for a pale hand to shoot its way up from the ground, or a giggle, or anything—but as always, she received nothing good. Nothing that told her Ashley was here. 

        (Y/N) grabbed her hair and tugged the ends violently, frustrated. 

        "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" she screamed, ripping a few strands of her hair out until her head ached and a headache formed. "I can't! I can't!" she shouted, crouching down on the ground.

        "Why can't you just leave me alone?! Why can't everyone just leave me alone?!" (Y/N) cried out, a few tears escaping her eyes before she started sobbing.

        "I'm sorry, Ashley. I'm sorry." She sobbed. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to lash out. I didn't mean to kill you, or Penelope, or Ben, or mama and papa or anyone. I just wanted to be something bigger and better than myself, but I can't even do that. Not even a job or a lover or a friend." 

        It hurt, it hurt worse than any stab wound or cut or pill she could endure. Her chest ached, her stomach felt sick, her throat burned, her eyes felt tired, her nose was stuffy, her leg ached from her injury, her arms stung from her injury and self-inflicted cuts, her mind throbbed, and her heart ached. 

        Whatever excuse she tries to put it, it's still her fault in the end. It'll always be her fault. 

        "Please, just make it stop..." she cried. "Haven't I given enough? Haven't I atoned enough? Haven't I saved enough? Haven't I hurt enough? Why isn't it enough? Why isn't anything enough?"

        It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. It's too much.

        She stopped crouching, rising up as she walked further in the woods, finding the forest path and following it as the rain punished her back and the thunder scolded her. 

        She made her way until the ground reflected with the lightning in the sky. She had reached the forest's lake. 

        She sat down on a wet bench that showed a scenic view of the lake, but she wasn't concerned about the lake. 

        She thought about that small room she grew up in alone, affection-starved, and hungry; a punishment for being born.

        She thought about all those times she was shoved up against school lockers, or tripped in class, or wads of gum stuck in her hair; a punishment for being a freak.

        She thought about those hospital walls, the numerous markings on her wrists, the empty pill bottles scattered around; a punishment for wanting death. 

        She thought about that courtroom, about being sentenced guilty, and those days she spent starving herself and force-fed through a tube in jail; a punishment for having Ren love her.

        She thought about escaping Ren, about living in her car homeless as she tried to make ends meet; a punishment for wanting freedom.

        She thought about receiving that sketchy email from Treegrowth Hospital, meeting Doctor Ryan and Penelope, and Hailey and many many other patients dying; a punishment for following her dreams.

        She thought about that first spray of perfume to Ashley's eyes so she could blind her, that first stab into Penelope's wrist so she could harm her; a punishment for standing up for herself.

        And now, the rain punishes her back for standing out here alone, and Mother Nature weeps with her as she cries. 

        Sometimes, it still feels like she's trapped inside that room; except this time, she's the one that locked herself in it. 

        She stood up from the bench, walking to the edge of the lake, and stepping a foot in. The water was freezing and cold, but what it promises makes her feel warm. She took another step, walking deeper as it reached her knees. Soon it reached her hips as she looked up at the moon, witnessing her ultimate—and hopefully final—death. 

        She looked at the trees, watching as lightning lit the sky and showed the vibrant green of the forest.

        There was a picture shoved in front of her eyes, an image of a male with black hair and vibrant green eyes, a soft look in his eyes as he held her tight, whispering to her.

        (“That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?”) he spoke, his hands cradling her face as his thumbs wiped the tears from her face. ("She knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?”)

        The image changed to them on her bed watching a movie on TV, his arm around her shoulder as her head rested on his chest naturally. It provided a sensation she never felt before, one that burned her chest, but it didn't hurt for once. It felt soothing, comfortable, and she couldn't help but want more.

        Andrew.

        "Andrew!" she gasped, before being submerged under water at a steep drop.

        She quickly swam back up to the surface, coughing and spitting out the water she swallowed, before peddling back to the edge of the lake, crawling out and lying down on the ground, coughing and panting as she stared at the stars as they laughed at her.

        She didn't care about their mockery though.

        I want Andrew. She thought, forcing herself up off the ground.

        The autumn air mauled her skin as she ran, ignoring the ache in her leg as she followed the path and got off track, running back to her car.  She hopped in the driver's seat and started the car, speeding out of the forest. 

        She'll pay a visit later and apologize to Ashley, but right now she didn't want Ashley, she wanted Andrew. 

        She sped back to her apartment, an hour drive taking 30 minutes as she speeded. She made it back and parked her car, almost tripping on the steps from her haste as she almost broke off her key in the keyhole. She practically ripped the front door open, her eyes meeting with Andrew's panicked ones.

        He was out of his wheelchair, no crutches in sight as he leaned against the couch, tears falling down from his eyes. Every door in the house was open, and every light was on along with pillows and blankets scattered on the living room floor. It looked like he was trying to find her. 

        "(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, out of breath and panting, seeming to have had his own episode himself. 

        "Andrew!" she smiled, glad to see him awake and well.

        (Y/N) shut the door behind her, locking it before rushing over and running into Andrew's arms. He stumbled before falling back, but luckily he fell onto the couch. He didn't hesitate in reciprocating her hug as he wrapped his arms tightly around hers. 

        "(Y/N), where the hell were you?! I don't remember falling asleep or coming back home but I had a nightmare and—Jesus, you're so cold and wet." He spoke, lifting her legs up and placing her down in his lap. "Baby, what happened? Where were you? It's dark and raining outside, what were you thinking?"

        "Oh, Andrew. It's been so terrible." She cried, pressing her forehead against his. "I-I feel so terrible and lost. I'm so scared. My parents died and she's dead too and—" she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tighter as she nuzzled her head in his neck. "Please don't leave me too. I need you, Andrew."

        Andrew's heart broke and mended at the same time. Seeing her crying and scared hurt, but seeing her need him felt better. 

        "It's okay... I won't leave you. I'm right here." Andrew breathed out, calming down as his arms held her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he shared his warmth with her.

        Suddenly, his nightmare felt almost silly in comparison to seeing her like this. Just like when she was in the hospital with him, he felt bad seeing her like this. It felt like a foreign sight seeing tears fall down her cheeks. 

        "Hey, you're really cold right now. C'mon, let's go get you warmed up." Andrew spoke, his hands rubbing up and down her arms to try and warm her up, though her wet jacket blocked the touch.

        (Y/N) nodded and stood up from his lap, a feeling of annoyance creeping up on his immediately after. He wished his legs could just heal up faster, he hates having to rely on her so much, he wants her to rely on him for a change.

        He wanted his legs to go back to normal so he could be able to carry her without having to have her get off his lap. He wanted to be able to walk side by side with her and hold hands while doing so. He wanted to help her reach the high shelves in the supermarket. 

        He hated having to look up at her to talk or speak, it was a blow to his ego and felt insulting to his masculinity. He wanted to be able to look down at her for once.

        Andrew got up and led (Y/N) to the bathroom, turning on the warm water and setting out a towel for her. (Y/N) went and grabbed a nightgown from her closet along with a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants she bought Andrew today, coming back and resting them next to the towel. 

        "What's that for?" Andrew questioned, noticing the extra outfit just as he turned off the bathtub faucet. 

        "Why don't you stay with me again tonight?" (Y/N) suggested, swallowing her nerves. "I'd rather not be alone tonight... and you said you had a nightmare. We can comfort each other."

        Andrew's eyes widen, a rare blush dusting his cheeks as he looked at her surprised. He looked over at the bathtub, before back at her. 

        "Y-you mean... you wanna bathe together?" he questioned. "And sleep together willingly?" 

        "Jeez, you make it sound like I'm asking you for 1,000 bucks." (Y/N) sighed, crossing her arms, ignoring the cold shiver that went down her spine. 

        Oh no, this was much more than 1,000 bucks. This was priceless. If anything, he should be paying her for this. 

        "Only if you want to though. You don't have to feel pressured or anything, I don't want you to feel pressured because you're living with me. I'd feel bad if you were uncomfortable with this..." (Y/N) spoke, adverting her eyes from his.

        "Oh, honey. I'm far from uncomfortable. That's lightyears away." He chuckled, causing a smile to form on her face.

        "Well, that's good to know at least..." she smiled.

        "C'mere." He spoke, reaching out and grabbing her waist, pulling her flush against him. "So, you gonna help me change now?" he questioned, smirking as he asked her that question for the second time today.

        "You're insufferable." (Y/N) giggled.

        "Worth a shot." He shrugged, smirking. 

        He let go of her waist, much to her disappointment, and grabbed the hem of his jacket (Y/N) put on him earlier while he was asleep, lifting it up before she quickly adverted her eyes.

        "Hey!" she exclaimed, her body turning 180 degrees as she covered her eyes. "Y-you can't just do that in front of me!"

        "Oh, so you get flustered about seeing me undress but not asking me to bathe with you?" Andrew laughed, a genuine one as he undressed. 

        "Leave me alone..." (Y/N) muttered, suddenly feeling nervous about the situation at hand. 

        There was a moment of doubt, but it was washed away as she heard a splash from behind her. 

        "The water is warm. No need to be shy." Andrew spoke. 

        She could practically see his wolfish grin.

        "Can't you close your eyes?" (Y/N) huffed, turning her head towards him carefully, a mixture of gratitude and disappointment to seeing nothing exposed of him in the bathtub.

        "If that's what makes you comfortable." He sighed, pretending to act like it was a big deal when it wasn't. 

        "Wait, here..." (Y/N) spoke, reaching into her bathroom cabinet and pulling out a bottle.

        "Bubbles?" Andrew questioned, reading the label as she handed it to him. "Strawberry scented too. Yummy." 

        "Don't eat it." (Y/N) huffed.

        "I won't. Promise." He smiled. "I have a better snack here in front of me. A whole course meal." 

        His words caused her cheeks to flare up as she looked away from him.

        "Just get those bubbles made... yeah?" she hummed. "And don't look." 

        "Jokes on you, I know what reverse psychology is. You want me to look." Andrew teased.

        "Andrew!" (Y/N) whined. 

        "Okay! I promise I won't look." He spoke, his fingers crossed behind his back. 

        He turned back on the faucet and poured some bubble formula into the stream as she undressed, though he stole many glances with zero shame. He was only a man after all, but he could control himself. 

        "Okay..." (Y/N) spoke, removing her socks and undoing her bandages on her arms and leg.

        "Ready?" Andrew hummed, closing his eyes again. 

        "Yeah." She nodded.

        She turned around and looked at the slightly-pink foam from the bubbles, before looking at Andrew to make sure his eyes were closed. When she confirmed they were closed, she entered the bathtub and sat down in front of Andrew, her back facing him as her leg hung over the edge to prevent her stitches from being wet. 

        "I'm in. You can open your eyes now." (Y/N) sighed.

        "You sure look comfortable." Andrew chuckled gesturing to her leg. 

        "You should be doing this too. You still have stitches on your ankles." (Y/N) retorted.

        "You're such a worrywart." Andrew teased.

        "They could get infected." She bit back.

        "Well, it's a good thing I live with a cute nurse." Andrew smiled. 

        Her heart stammered at his compliment, she tilted her head to look back at him. 

        "Liar." She muttered under her breath.

        Andrew heard her and smiled, amused. His arms reached out and wrapped around her waist, before pulling her back into his chest.

        "H-hey! What are you doing?!" she gasped, feeling his warmth directly behind her. 

        "Don't worry so much, pretty. It causes wrinkles." He teased.

        "Well, I didn't know my looks were the only thing important about me." She huffed, her hands nervous settling on his.

        "You sure know how to bite back at everything I say, huh?" he sighed, albeit the smile on his face showed how much he enjoyed their little bickers. 

        His thumbs played with her hips, drawing circles on them as (Y/N) relaxed her head on his chest, the scent of strawberries in the air calming her down.

        "Should've brought my speaker in here and played some music." (Y/N) sighed. 

        "How romantic." He chuckled. "I can just hear George Michael singing 'Careless Whisper' to me right now." 

        "Classy." She hummed sarcastically.

        "What? Don't like his song?" Andrew questioned.

        "No, I'm really hearing Jo Stafford right now." (Y/N) chuckled. 

        "Ew. Oldies." Andrew teased, before musing over it. "...What song?"

        "'I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm' sounds really fitting right now." She hummed thoughtfully.

        "So I'm your love?" he inquired, a playfully smirk on his face.

        His hand reached up and held her cheek, tilting her head towards him more. He pressed his forehead against her intimately, looking into her eyes with this fond expression on his face, one she could hardly believe was real. She reached her hand out and held his wrist, smiling.

        "Well, you did meet my parents..." she hummed, before a pang ached her heart, remembering her parents' death, though she hid that thought in the back of her mind.

        Andrew looked down and noticed the lines on her arm, his smile dropping. "Hey..."

        Shit, (Y/N) mentally scolded herself, her arm dropping.

        She just had to lift that one up. 

        "Hey." He spoke, his voice more firmer as he gripped her wrist tighter to prevent her from hiding her arm. "What's this?"

        "It's nothing." She lied.

        "What's this?" he said firmer, his eyes hardening as he looked down at her.

        "Nothing, I was just being stupid!" she snipped back, trying to grab her arm back. 

        "(Y/N). (Y/N), stop." He huffed, fighting her for her arm as she failed at hiding it. 

        "Drop it." She spoke defensively, tears welling up in her eyes.

        "(Y/N), honey." Andrew sighed, his gentle voice making her melt as she resisted fighting. "Baby, these are fresh. What happened?"

        "They're from yesterday." She corrected.

        "Stop avoiding the question. It's still fresh." He huffed. "What happened?"

        "I can't..." she muttered, looking away from him shamefully as the tears from her eyes fell.

        "C'mon, don't cry." Andrew mumbled, dropping her arm as both of his hands cradled her face. "We talked about crying; it's not pretty on you."

        "I can't help it." She sniffled.

        "So let me help." He hummed, his thumbs wiping away the tears. "What's been going on?"

        "A lot." She spoke.

        "Don't be vague. Speak." Andrew spoke, before noticing her hesitation. "I only wanna help you, baby. I don't like seeing you hurt." 

   "I don't wanna tell you yet..." (Y/N) muttered. "You won't like me anymore."

        "Honey, I'll still like you no matter what." He smiled reassuringly. "You don't gotta worry about silly things like that."

        "I-I still don't wan-na tell you yet..." she hiccuped as he wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

        "Fine..." he sighed, a bit disappointed but not wanting to pry into her business. "Then tell me when you're ready, yeah?" 

        "Okay..." she nodded.

        "But can you at least promise me you'll stop this?" he spoke, his eyes trailing down to her arm to gesture to it.

        "I can't promise that." She frowned. "It just... happens sometimes." 

        "Well then come to me." He spoke. "I'll help you."

        She adverted her eyes, feeling guilty for making him worry.

        "I'm sorry..." She muttered.

        "I'm sorry too." He mumbled.

        "For what?" she questioned.

        "For not being there for you." He spoke. 

        "Andrew, you've barely known me for a week now." She sighed. 

        "So? I'm bathing with you right now. I get to eat meals with you and I get to shop with you and sleep with you at night." He spoke, before smiling. "We're dating now, remember?" he teased, recalling the words she used yesterday to try and explain their fake relationship.

        "Y-you really believe it?" she questioned, surprised. "You really wanna... you know...?"

        "I don't think I'd be here in the tub with you right now if I didn't." He chuckled, before pressing his nose against hers. "Yeah, I wanna be with you. I wanna always be with you." 

        "You can't possibly always be there for me." She pointed out, pouting.

        "But I wanna." He admitted. "I wanna always be there for you. I need you." 

        Her heart stammered as she looked away from him, nervous. The air was hot and humid, and the heavy scent of strawberries practically drowned her; but she wouldn't want this any other way.

        "You're stupid..." she mumbled, her finally defense being let down.

        "Stupid for you~" he cooed teasingly, coaxing a giggle out of her. 

        His eyes softened as he watched her laugh. One of his thumbs rubbing circles on her flared cheeks as his other hovered next to her bottom lip.

        "You have a pretty laugh." He commented, his eyes watching her lips before meeting her eyes. "And you have a pretty smile. Keep smiling for me, yeah?"

        "You have pretty eyes." She hummed. "Green like Mother Nature; nurturing." 

        "How poetic." He chuckled, smiling. 

        "I really like you, you know." (Y/N) admitted, her arms reaching up and grabbing his wrists, drawing small circles on them. 

        "Like me enough for a kiss?" he teased, although he was hopefully.

        "You want one?" she questioned. 

        "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind." He purred. 

        She giggled, before moving her face closer to his, her eyes looking at his endearingly before they looked down at his lips.

        "I've... never actually kissed anyone before..." she admitted. "So forgive me if I'm bad."        

        "I doubt anything could be bad with you." He hummed. 

        She smiled, raising her hands to rest on his cheeks, before holding her breath and kissing his lips. 

        It was short, sweet, and sincere. It's a serendipity that he managed to live and stumble into her hospital, and get assigned to her specifically despite being in a separate hospital branch, otherwise this might've never happened. She has him spellbound; and vise versa.

        She parted her lips from his, nervous as a hesitant smile resting on her face, yet she still smiled for him. 

        "So...?" she inquired. "How was that?"

        He hummed, pretending to muse, before quickly bending down and stealing another quick kiss from him.

        "Hey!" she gasped, flustered. "We agreed on one kiss!"

        "My mouth slipped." He lied, causing a chuckle to escape her lips.

        "Liar." She laughed.

        "It was perfect." He smiled. "You're perfect."

        "Now you're really lying." She scoffed playfully.

        "I'm extremely serious." He hummed, before lifting his hands. "See? My fingers aren't crossed."

        "Oh, then I guess you must be telling the truth." She hummed sarcastically. 

        "I am." He hummed, watching as she rested her head back down on his chest.

        They stayed quiet for a few minutes, before he spoke up.

        "Feeling better?" he questioned.

        "I'm on Cloud 9." She sighed, before adding. "And I changed my mind. It feels more like '(They Long to Be) Close to You.' that's by The Carpenters"

        Andrew chuckled, smiling. "Well I change mine too."

        "What do you change it to?" she questioned. 

        "'Unforgettable.' Nat Cole." He spoke. "Because you're unforgettable." He cooed, resting his head on her shoulder. 

        "Dummy." She smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying his warmth.

        This is what she longed to come home to every night. This was something worth living for.

        "You wanna get out now? Get to bed?" Andrew questioned.

        "Five minutes more." She smiled, quoting Frank Sinatra. "I'm comfortable..."

And chapter 8 is finished! I've concluded that the series is coming to the end soon, we have about one or two more chapters left! Don't be down though, there will still be more Andrew content and you guys get to vote for the next series once Star Patient is done!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, current chapter, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[bekolxeram]

Buck cannot believe it, even with all the unthinkable emergencies he has encountered throughout his career. A blazing airplane just landed on a freeway in one piece, not by pilots, but by Athena and a child.

What was supposed to be a certain death situation, has been turned around by the bravery and cooperation of everyone onboard and on the ground, even the actor.

Once Athena is safely evacuated from the crippled jet, Bobby runs to her with the desperation of a man stranded in a desert to an oasis, a sight Buck is all too familiar with. He doesn't know if he should be sad for Bobby and Athena for getting into danger every time they travel, or should he be happy that they are always there to help save people. Then Buck feels a tap on his shoulder.

"Thank you. For showing me what a firefighter is supposed to be." Brad, the Hotshots captain said.

"No, I should be the one thanking you." Buck shrugs. "You've really come through and helped us a lot. If you're considering a career change, you would make a fine firefighter."

Brad briefly ducks his head, then gives Buck a cryptic smirk, "And likewise, if you ever get tired of the bureaucracy, you can work on my show. You have that… leading man charm, acting could work for you." Brad winks.

"Really? Um… I love my job, but that could be fun?" Buck replies, imagining the life of a famous TV actor.

"Yeah, I can get you a guest star spot. You should come by the studio later, I can give you a tour." Brad leans his body against the 119 truck and stares right into Buck's eyes. Yet, all Buck can hear is the word "tour" and he can't stop thinking about Tommy.

"I have to go get my car back anyway, but that sounds great! You know, my…" Buck doesn't even have time to finish his sentence.

"Sure! You know what? You should come to the bootcamp I set up with Captain Nash too. Just us guys, heart to heart, men versus wild." "Uhh…. bootcamp?" Since when does Bobby organize firefighter bootcamp for Hollywood actors? Buck asks himself. He really should take the time to talk to Bobby more, now that he's adapting to the new arrangement at work.

"Oh, you don't like it? Forget about it. We can take my private jet to go anywhere you want. Bahamas? Hawaii? Europe?" Brad steps closer to Buck. "I just thought you would be a fun travel companion?" Brad puts his hand on Buck's shoulder and slowly rubbing it. Buck looks at Brad's hand and finally realizes the overly flirtatious atmosphere brewing between them.

"Ah… It would be fun and all but…" Buck dodges his head to the side and waves one of his hands, "I gotta tell you, I've already got a boyfriend, and it's getting serious so…" Buck rises his eyebrows and smiles to try his best at an apologetic expression.

"Oh, Oh… so it wasn't me you were smiling at then…" Brad stares at the ground, clearly looking embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, you're a very attractive man, but I… My boyfriend is a pilot too, a helicopter pilot… and a firefighter. This all just makes me think of him." Buck cannot contain his smile.

"It's okay, I wish you two the best." The actor utilizes his skill to mask his disappointment. "My offer for the studio tour and private jet ride still stand though."

"Actually, you know what? There is something from your set I want to borrow…" Buck again is cut off mid sentence, but this time, by a familiar voice.

"Evan!" Buck whips his head around and sees a scene that reminds him of his sister's wedding.

Tommy, again in his turnout gear, runs towards Buck with open arms and concern on his face.

"Are you alright? Eddie told me you went to get Bobby and next thing I knew you were on the 110 parked in front of the plane!" Tommy's hands roam around Buck's body, not in their usual, sensual way, but trying to check for any injury like a doctor would.

"I'm fine. Look, all in one piece." Buck opens his arms and turn around, to showcase how perfectly healthy he is. "I'm sorry I made you worry." He understands too well what dating a first responder means. Part of him still expects people to leave him the first instant he makes them scared for his life.

"What are you talking about? All I want is for you to be okay… When I saw you weren't there with the 118, I just knew you were in danger. I was so close to stealing my heli…" Buck pulls Tommy's chin in with his fingers and shuts him up with a searing kiss, just like their first. Tommy wraps his arms around Buck's waist to minimize their distance. They move naturally like they were made for each other.

Brad looks on and thinks to himself, "that's it. We need a queer storyline."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for making a formal complaint about the carer for a terminally ill child?

CONTEXT: I am a librarian at a private school in Europe. prior to me taking over the position three years ago, my predecessor established the library as a place where students could be supervised by her at nearly any time with less than five minute's notice. i hate this circumstance but naturally other staff like things this way so it keeps happening after I've asked for it to stop.

I was approached in December about this permanently extending to a student who is terminally ill (this is their last year being able to attend any classes). At the time I thought that their one-to-one assistant/support would be accompanying him to the library, is it is his job to be with that child nearly all day, except when he trades off with someone for breaks (the other person is mostly a substitute but has taken on 5 extra hours for this situation to work out). if there's someone with them, obviously they don't need me to supervise them and I can leave if i need to eat/go to the bathroom/etc. these "library breaks" aren't planned in advance, they're based on how their cognition is that day and stress levels in certain classes that have become more difficult as their condition worsens. I agreed to the situation with the understanding that I would be providing the space, not the supervision. everyone on their care team (class tutor, both carers, school nurse, home-school liaison) has first aid training and much more details on specifics of their condition.

The situation is that now the carer is dropping them to the library and then he is leaving. I've had to miss lunch multiple times in the past fortnight. i spend the time they're in the library alone with me terrified that something is going to happen and i won't be able to help. i hate being left for sometimes an hour in charge of this very ill and very vulnerable child. a few times he's left them with me while I've been teaching a workshop or working with other students. when the regular carer is with the kid (most of the time) they just show up and then he leaves. i don't get any notice. the substitute usually gives me a heads up at the beginning of a class period that they'll be there, but she also stays with them so there's no problem for me. the regular situation is extremely bad for me.

i want to complain formally about the carer doing this. the obvious consequences will be that he will be monitored to make sure he's not leaving the kid unattended and management will start doing spot checks. he may have to do extra courses at home on safeguarding. if anyone else has complained about him, he'll be put on a PIP.

i feel like i might be the asshole because I'm fairly sure library time and his lunch break are the only times that he gets any respite from the situation. he's been the carer for this kid for about five years and knows them really well, and the decline in their condition is hitting him really hard. he will not only lose the extra breaks but he'll gain more work and scrutiny than he's had before, during a really hard time in his life. i don't know what to do to improve my situation except complain, but I know I'll be making his situation way worse. please be harsh.

[draconesmundi]

What species of dragons are found in Africa? What clades do they belong to?

ooo so I was wanting to do a Smaugust Post about this but I was unsure how, so I'll just reply to this question with 12 very rushed dragon doodles...

(edit; to be clear this is in my creative project Dracones Mundi, not 'real dragons' or a comprehensive list of mythology. Dragon designs inspired by mythology)

Click the 'keep reading' to learn more!

West African Rainbow Serpent (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens iris)

This dragon is specifically a 'west African rainbow serpent' to differentiate been this and the Australian rainbow serpent. The West African Rainbow Serpent is based on West African folklore (Vodun tradition among other things, deities such as Ayedo Wedo etc.) and the physical design is based on an art sculpture of Ayedo Wedo a friend sent me a picture of (black head, white neck collar) + some snakes I like (spots with dark rims) + rainbow gradient.

Grootslang (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens magnus)

A gigantic dragon with diamond eyes said to live in caves under South Africa - looking into South African caves to discover there are vast bodies of water in huge caves was an experience - the above design is a loose idea, the final Grootslang for the Dracones Mundi project may look different...

Elephant Eating Serpent (Dracovermidae: Afroserpens aethiopicus)

Based on bestiaries saying 'big serpents in Africa wrap elephants in their coils'.

Chicken Headed Serpent (Afroserpens gallocephallus)

I might merge this design with the existing cockatrice design (see further below), only time will tell...

Nile Serpent? (Dracovermidae: Dracovermis hydra)

Huge serpent found in the Nile, and in the Mediterranean. Inspiration for Apep/Apophis in Egypt, but also for the Hydra in Greece.

Congan Plated Dragon (Testudracidae: Stegosuchus monstrum)

Large dragon that lives in the Congo Basin - inspired by Mokele Mbembe, Emele Ntouka and Mblieu Mblieu Mblieu

Dinodrakes (Drakonidae: Dinodrako...? )

Silly dragon I put on Madagascar - not inspired by folklore, these are just funny dinosaur inspired dragons. Mr Razzledazzle and his beautiful big wife.

Green Wyvern (Megaviperidae: Megavipera virida)

Based on Europeans slapping a little green dragon on maps of Africa for 'Aethiopia', 'here be dragons'. Also this is Saint George's dragon, so in versions of the legend where the saint fights the dragon in Libya I decided to put the green wyvern in Libya. Green wyverns therefore have a wide distribution in Dracones Mundi as Saint George has fought the dragon throughout North Africa, the Middle East and Europe.

Kongomato (Megaviperidae: ?)

A swimming dragon that lives in Zambia - it can grab boats with it's powerful jaws, swim with it's powerful tail and has huge wings. I am not certain on this final design, working on it...

Cockatrice (Medaviperidae: Basilliskos gallimimus)

CHICKEN DRAGON. Very deadly. Found throughout the world, including Africa.

Jaculus (Megaviperidae: Pteraserpens jaculus)

Jaculus, the javeline serpent, can fly at intense speeds, stabbing prey with it's sharp face.

Terrorsaur (Megaviperidae: Pteroserpens...?)

Silly dragon based on "what if janky cartoony green pterodactyls are dragons?" and then I found a lot of cryptozoology places 'pterosaurs' in central Africa. Playing with this concept, nothing solid yet.

...

There are some other African dragons that I'm not sure about including - Ninki Nanka is something I have had on my radar for a while but I could not find enough info on it to write or draw something (recently looked it up again and there is more info wow... Okay next draft will include Ninki Nanka!!!!)

and Akhekhu which I had in a previous draft then abandonned. Might put him back in. Not sure if he's dragony enough?

So in this current roster of African dragons we have 6 inspired by African folklore and mythology (Grootslang, Rainbow Serpent, Nile Serpent, Congan Plated Dragon, Kongomato, Chicken Headed Serpent) 4 inspired by European mythology saying 'this lives in Africa' (Cockatrice, Green wyvern, Jaculus, Elephant Eating Serpent) and 2 I made up just for fun (Dinodrakes and Terrorsaurs)

[valkyyriia]

Hiii! It is I — Veli! no not nagi /lh

Can I request for a fic with Ellis where he happens to be lovesick? He and reader had to be separated for a period of time due to work, travel etc. And maybe they reunite at the end, but upto you

Take care and stay hydrated <33

Growth

Words: 1107 CW: None | SFW Tags: Separation, Mutual Pining, Jude being Jude Prompt: Ellis + Lovesick Pairing: Ellis / Reader

Note: Hi Veli! No, Nagi - no, Veli - hahaha! Thank you for the request, I love Ellis. 💜 This one is sweet! ... And got away from me a bit. Whoops. I guess I'm long-winded tonight, hahaha. I hope you like it!

"Be safe," you told him, your nose buried in Ellis' purple and black jacket. Ellis held you close, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I will be," he smiled. "I wouldn't miss your happiest day for anything."

"Yeah, yeah," Jude cut in irritably. "We get it. Yer gonna cry the whole time yer separated. Let's get a move on, Ellis. We ain't got all day."

Ellis squeezed you tighter for a moment, a murmured 'sorry' whispered into your hair, before he let go and followed Jude out the front door.

As you watched the door to Crown Castle shut behind them, your heart constricted painfully in your chest. You hated being left behind on missions like these.

Crown had received intel that there was a branch of human traffickers taking up residence in Ipswich. They were using the Gulf of Orwell to ship their captives all over Europe.

Victor had claimed the mission was too dangerous for you, that you would be a target if you had accompanied them. Even if you were just there to act as Fairytale Keeper, you'd be singled out the moment you were spotted near Jude.

You knew the more likely truth was that you would be a liability to Jude, Ellis, and Roger if you were to accompany them. If things went south, you'd be left unable to protect yourself adequately, and the others would be scrambling to defend you, putting themselves in danger.

You absolutely hated feeling like a liability to Crown.

It was understandable that you didn't know your way around weapons. Compared to everyone else in the organization, you had had an easy upbringing. Jude never stopped mentioning it, in fact.

You were the Fairytale Keeper. Your job was mostly to assist when needed and to record the evil deeds of the Cursed.

Your job was generally not to infiltrate drug dens and human trafficking organizations.

You knew that, and still.. it bothered you.

You hated the idea that if Ellis - or any of the others - were to get themselves into a tight situation, you would be more of a hinderance than a help to them.

And that was how you found yourself in Victor's office, an hour after the trio had left on their mission.

"Ah, if it isn't our lovely little robin," Victor greeted cheerfully. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I want to learn how to protect myself." You were candid with him. "I don't want to b a liability anymore."

Victor's eyes widened and he looked at you in mild surprise. Of all the things you could have wanted from him, that was not what he anticipated.

"Of course, you're welcome to anything in my personal armory as a member of Crown, my dear robin," Victor said, "And I would be more than happy to help you in any way you desire. If you're certain, I'll set out some time to teach you."

The next morning found you in the castle courtyard, Victor walking you through the use of various weapons in his repository. A few of the others came to observe, some offering pointers, others simply watching.

Truth be told, the other members of Crown didn't mind protecting you when needed. All of them, even Jude (though he would deny it), appreciated the optimism and sunshine you brought them on a daily basis. None of them held it against you.

Regardless of your decision to stay with them, they wanted to leave you with the ability to return to your normal life if that's what you chose to do.

They were evil, certainly - but far from heartless. They all cared for you in their own way.

Every day you practiced with Victor, you found your mind wandering to Ellis and the mission. Was he okay? How was the mission going? When would he be coming home?

You missed him.

You were looking forward to seeing him again, safe and unharmed.

Unbeknownst to you, Ellis was having similar thoughts.

Ellis hated being separated from you, too.

He had long ago learned to squash down his desires. They were unnecessary and only served to get in the way of his goals and the happiness of all around him.

And yet he found himself wishing more and more for your presence near him.

Ellis was quiet for the majority of the train ride.

"Yer gloomier than usual, kid," Jude huffed, lighting a cigarette. "Ya left the bird for what, an hour, and it's all doom and gloom?"

"Sorry," Ellis said. "I was just thinking."

"Well, stop it," Jude snarked, ignoring the look Roger was giving him. "Yer gonna break something."

Ellis smiled noncommittally, looking out at the landscape whizzing past them.

Part of him wished you could have joined them. It was unusual for him and Jude to take a mission without you nowadays. Victor, however, had said this one was too dangerous for you.

Ellis agreed, of course. You had had the barest of minimums when it came to weapons training. Your happiness was his top priority, sure; but your safety was equally important. He couldn't have you dying before you had your happiest moment.

Ellis also knew that you seeing what was going on in this place would make you sad. He somehow wanted to see that even less than he wanted to see you get hurt.

The fact that this was in your best interest didn't ease the ache in his chest any less. He missed you already.

This was going to be a long few days.

The mission went by quickly, all things considered.

Thanks to Roger's exemplary hearing and Jude and Ellis' quick thinking, they were able to infiltrate the den and capture the ringleaders within a few days. The remaining members of the organization had been scattered and left leaderless. Sure, another leader would pop up eventually - but it was doubtful it would be at this same location, and it would take awhile to recoup their losses as well.

For now, they've done all they could.

In contrast to their train ride to Ipswich, Ellis was smiling on the return trip. He would be seeing you soon, and that thought was enough to make him happy.

Ellis found he considered his own happiness a lot more now that he was with you. He found it didn't bother him too much, though; you had said on many occasions that his happiness brought you happiness. If it made you happy, he'd do anything.

Jude took one look at him and scowled, turning back to his book.

Ellis didn't mind. He was just looking forward to your sweet reunion.

Note: I've been sitting on it for awhile, and debated on writing their reunion, but I think I prefer the open-ended ambiguity at the end. I hope this is alright with you. 😊

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother Banners/Dividers by @natimiles

Let me know if you want to be added!

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi!! i'm so happy everything is back in working order! I hope you are doing brilliantly too ❤

i remembered a sterek fic that I haven't been able to find again, and that I read before taking the habit of bookmarking.

I remember so little, but stiles used to tell fairytales to explain certain things/his journey with Derek; I remember stiles explaining at one point why wolves and ravens worked together sometimes and got on well. He actually could turn into a raven, I think(?). But I can't remember if it was a modern setting or not.

Thank you for all your hard work!

take care!

Hi @syltherindoctorsat221b! @kevaaronday thinks it could be this one!

The Unkindness of Valravn by TaliskerMortem

(28/28 I 72,899 I Mature I Sterek)

They are rare, almost unheard of. Only Lydia seems to recognise the word. Valravn. The Raven People. They descend on Beacon Hills in their hour of need. Obliterating the enemy. At their head? A man dress in black. A man covered in tattoos. A man they all knew.

OR: The one in which Stiles hasn't been back to Beacon Hills in seven years, during which he visited Europe, was attacked by a raven and turned into a shifter, has lots of tattoos and is now the Alpha of his little ragtag group of Valravne.

[greenqueenhightower]

Hey.

I constantly argue back and forth with TB stans that Jace, Luke and Joffrey aren't legitimised just because Laenor, Corlys and Viserys go along with Rhaenyra’s lie about them being "trueborn". As I'm sure you're aware, in Westeros only a king can legitimise the illegitimate by first declaring their bastardy and then legitimising them afterwards. And TB stans. Just. Don't. Get. It. They also seem to think that the King's word is law in Westeros. They don't understand that this a feudal monarchy where the king and his vassals are reliant upon each other and both must respect the social contract in order for the Westerosi social structures e.g. monarchy to be maintained.

IMO, they fall for the narrative trap of the Targaryen characters. Just because Viserys and Rhaenyra say that the King's word is law doesn't actually make it law. It's only law as long as the king has the ability to enforce it. Therefore, if a king did something insane in the eyes of his noble polity, e.g., try to place his bastards in the line of succession, they'd rebel proving accurately that the King's word is in fact not actually law. Aerys's overthrowing is a great example of this. As is the reign of Daeron II: if his word was law and everyone had to obey him, no one would have joined Daemon Blackfyre's rebellion.

Anyway back to TB stans. I think alot of them don't actually realise how the world works. Even GRRM confirmed the bastardy of Rhaenyra’s 3 son's for goodness sake. Every time they try to deny it using the aforementioned argument it only confuses me. Are they insecure about Rhaenyra having illegitimate children? Is that how far they're para-social relationship with her goes?

They also have another stupid argument that Rhaenyra's kids having her blood means that they can inherit her throne. No no no no no no no no no. THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS TB. If it was Westerosi lords with bastard relatives, it would allow them to inherit. You have to be trueborn. It's unfair but these unfair laws are what keeps Westeros from constant civil war. That's the point of inheritance law in the Seven Kingdoms.

Anyway, sorry about the rant. It's just that sometimes when I argue with certain TB stans they don't seem to understand the laws of the world they're fans of. They will bend over backwards to excuse their faves, not understanding that you are allowed to criticise a character you like (& in their case love). I think Rhaenyra is an interesting character - moreso in the book TBH - I just don't get why so many TB stans willfully refuse to understand the way in which the laws of the world she inhabits work. Any thoughts?

Hi anon, it took me forever to get to your ask but you're right! 💚

Not all TB stans share the same views, and there are people in here with whom you can converse intelligently, but I have also seen the discourse you're referring to, and it is very annoying when the stans don't get it.

You put the Westerosi legitimization process very well. If we consider the greater Middle Ages-inspired world-building context that Westeros is based on, it makes sense why bastardy is a stigmatized social issue. Blood "purity," lineage, and legitimacy are important because they are the only way land and titles are bequeathed and inherited.

The King is the only one who can legitimize his own illegitimate children as heirs, but he can do so for other illegitimate children, regardless of whether these are related to him by blood. King Louis IV, for example, legitimized John II Duke of Brabant's son, Jan Cordeken, after a petition John wrote to him thus enabling him to inherit his father's fortune and found the House of Glymes. From Ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome to Enlightenment Europe, there are examples of Kings legitimizing not only their children but also the children of their officials, courtiers, and friends. It was seen as granting a favor to them, and when it came to personal matters, a King might choose to legitimize his children when he ran out of heirs, or in the case of Louis XIV, because he could and wanted to.

In other words, Viserys, who knew of but chose to ignore Rhaenyra's sons' (his grandsons') bastardy, had ample time and opportunity to legitimize them but chose to blind himself to the truth instead. What was that about Alicent calling Viserys "weak" in one of the deleted scenes of S1? Well, "weak" isn't the only word I would use to describe him... also irresponsible, foolish, and inadequate.

Nevertheless, the legitimization process in history was seldom favored by the court, the King's vassals, and the people, and caused quite a stir. As you say, the King's law didn't hold up that much ground compared to the law of tradition and at times the Church. The people didn't care if a King legitimized a child by naming them heir... the stigma of being born "illegitimate" wasn't washed off that easily, because bastards were seen as devilish, impure, half-breeds, unnatural hybrids, and so forth. So Viserys choosing to ignore the issue face front was bound to be catastrophic, because no matter how he tried to silence the tongues that wagged by threatening to cut them off, the issue of his grandsons' apparent bastardy remained, and THE REALM would not accept any of them on the Iron Throne, for the same reasons.

And Viserys did nothing about it. He could have confronted Rhaenyra when Jace was born and reminded her of the stark reality of the consequences of what she was doing. Not only did he name Rhaenyra (a woman) as his heir, which alone was controversial and unprecedented, but a woman with three illegitimate children, whose existence never even tried to correct or prevent. Viserys alone weakened Rhaenyra's claim with his lack of foresight and counsel.

If TB uphold the "Viserys loved his grandsons and he accepted them as they were" narrative, they are not only deluded but lack media literacy as well, because Viserys DIDN'T CARE if his grandsons were trueborn or not, or if that would plunge the realm to war, the same way he didn't care that he had named Rhaenyra as his successor when the realm, who was so used to having Kings for centuries, knew he had THREE legitimate sons of his own.

So my two cents on the discourse would basically be that those who don't understand the social and political repercussions of Rhaenyra having bastards, not being counseled as to why this is destructive, left on her own to raise them, and having to cope with the consequences of her actions as she realizes that the father she so loved and admired didn't protect or support her at all, are missing out on a much more interesting character in Rhaenyra and a more complex dynamic with her sons, who she now understands are exceptionally vulnerable and potentially threatening to her cause.

This is a far more intriguing reading than anything TB stans are getting at with their "no criticism" ban on Viserys and Rhaenyra.

[zachfoxx121]

Okay so I really really really like Russell Adler

Here are some of my favourite headcannons for him. (Featuring other cold war characters)

Alright so first up is his past!! Bro was born in 1937, between WW1 and WW2. He knows both German and Russian, so I like to think either his mom or dad (hell, maybe both) are immigrants from around those areas of Europe. To push that, his file doesn't say where he was born, just the date he was born. And a language is arguably easier learned if its in a household than in a book. Pronunciation and all that. Maybe his parents/one of them were Jewish too, and thats why they immigrated to the USA? It's also debatable if he was even born in the USA, since as I before mentioned, his birthplace isn't filed.

This headcannon is kinda borrowed, I cant remember who I original saw say it, but due to Adler's scar he has trouble/can't smile. It happened after 1968, but before 1981. When you ask him how he got his scar, he doesn't give a truthful answer, like Parks had said. "Oh I had trouble with a girl," "missed and fell," or "a tiger got me." My biggest guess, just from how it looks like a shrapnel wound, is its probably embarrassing. I like to think it was from a mine, maybe even a helicopter accident. But due to its position, it mightve damaged some facial muscles, and makes it hard to upturn a side/both sides of his lips. With scars, depending on how deep, nerve endings get fucked up and make it hard to move certain muscles, yknow?

This ones a bit silly, and has to do with Bell (I always play Bell as male, so sorry if I say "he" instead of "they" as their pronoun.) because I'm such a sucker for their relationship. Since Bell just kinda gets dumped on him, and their about the same build/height, I like to imagine he just dumps all his old/unwanted clothes into Bell's closet. In his file people he works with have described him as fashionable, and I don't know how good he gets paid, so he might go through clothes pretty fast to keep up with the times.

(Also for fem Bell, I imagine it's the same as this but with Park's old/unwanted clothes.)

Building on that, hes probably fashionable so wherever he is he doesn't seem out of place. With his scar it may be a bit difficult to blend in, but if he wears stylish enough clothes thats probably what grabs people attention more. "That guy had such a nice jacket," "did you see his shoes?" Even the difference between his '81 look and his new '91 do good to show his ability to keep up with fashion.

This headcannon is a bit more for Bell, but depending on which occupation you give them (CIA, MI6, ex-KGB) I like to imagine thats the accent they have post brainwash. With CIA, he has Adler's accent, and MI6 he copies Park's. With ex-KGB just a russian accent, which would probably be more realistic since it can be difficult to literally change an accent, but bro was experimented on so much it could have!!

I mention Adler in that because I like thinking of Bell saying a word and everyone being like "why'd they say it like Adler", because even in the USA theres so many accents!! Like even Mason and Woods have slightly different accents, especially if you think about the og voices in bo1.

This headcannon is a bit sad (and a big spoiler for the end of the "Good Ending"). After Adler shoots Bell, I think he stayed to make sure Bell was really dead. To make sure they bled out. In that though, I think he let Bell have one of his cigs, even smoked with him while he died. "Least I can do for you, kid." He didn't let Bell die alone. I really think it was hard for him to kill Bell, but he just had to shut the feeling down because it was (most likely) an order. Even though its probably more likely he shot Bell in the head, better than Arash did.

Anywho thats all I feel like typing out rn have fun with these some of them are constantly playing in my head!!!! :)))