#reopen america

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

i wish there where trains in my country!! i want to see trains just as much as i want to see snow

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #26

July 5-12 2024

The IRS announced it had managed to collect $1 billion in back taxes from high-wealth tax cheats. The program focused on persons with more than $1 million in yearly income who owned more than $250,000 in unpaid taxes. Thanks to money in Biden's 2022 Inflation Reduction Act the IRS is able to undertake more enforcement against rich tax cheats after years of Republicans cutting the agency's budget, which they hope to do again if they win power again.

The Biden administration announced a $244 million dollar investment in the federal government’s registered apprenticeship program. This marks the largest investment in the program's history with grants going out to 52 programs in 32 states. The President is focused on getting well paying blue collar opportunities to people and more people are taking part in the apprenticeship program than ever before. Republican pledge to cut it, even as employers struggle to find qualified workers.

The Department of Transportation announced the largest single project in the department's history, $11 billion dollars in grants for the The Hudson River Tunnel. Part of the $66 billion the Biden Administration has invested in our rail system the tunnel, the most complex Infrastructure project in the nation would link New York and New Jersey by rail under the Hudson. Once finished it's believed it'll impact 20% of the American economy by improving and speeding connection throughout the Northeast.

The Department of Energy announced $1.7 billion to save auto worker's jobs and convert factories to electronic vehicles. The Biden administration will used the money to save or reopen factories in Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Maryland, and Virginia and retool them to make electric cars. The project will save 15,000 skilled union worker jobs, and created 2,900 new high-quality jobs.

The Department of Housing and Urban Development reached a settlement with The Appraisal Foundation over racial discrimination. TAF is the organization responsible for setting standards and qualifications for real estate appraisers. The Bureau of Labor Statistics last year found that TAF was 94.7% White and 0.6% Black, making it the least racially diverse of the 800 occupations surveyed. Black and Latino home owners are far more likely to have their houses under valued than whites. Under the settlement with HUD TAF will have to take serious steps to increase diversity and remove structural barriers to diversity.

The Department of Justice disrupted an effort by the Russian government to influence public opinion through AI bots. The DoJ shut down nearly 1,000 twitter accounts that were linked to a Russian Bot farm. The bots used AI technology to not only generate tweets but also AI image faces for profile pictures. The effort seemed focused on boosting support for Russia's war against Ukraine and spread negative stories/impressions about Ukraine.

The Department of Transportation announces $1.5 billion to help local authorities buy made in America buses. 80% of the funding will go toward zero or low-emission technology, a part of the President's goal of reaching zero emissions by 2050. This is part of the $5 billion the DOT has spent over the last 3 years replacing aging buses with new cleaner technology.

President Biden with Canadian Prime Minster Justin Trudeau and Finnish President Alexander Stubb signed a new agreement on the arctic. The new trilateral agreement between the 3 NATO partners, known as the ICE Pact, will boost production of ice breaking ships, the 3 plan to build as many as 90 between them in the coming years. The alliance hopes to be a counter weight to China's current dominance in the ice breaker market and help western allies respond to Russia's aggressive push into the arctic waters.

The Department of Transportation announced $1.1 billion for greater rail safety. The program seeks to, where ever possible, eliminate rail crossings, thus removing the dangers and inconvenience to communities divided by rail lines. It will also help update and improve safety measures at rail crossings.

The Department of the Interior announced $120 million to help tribal communities prepare for climate disasters. This funding is part of half a billion dollars the Biden administration has spent to help tribes build climate resilience, which itself is part of a $50 billion dollar effort to build climate resilience across the nation. This funding will help support drought measures, wildland fire mitigation, community-driven relocation, managed retreat, protect-in-place efforts, and ocean and coastal management.

The USDA announced $100 million in additional funds to help feed low income kids over the summer. Known as "SUN Bucks" or "Summer EBT" the new Biden program grants the families of kids who qualify for free meals at school $120 dollars pre-child for groceries. This comes on top of the traditional SUN Meals program which offers school meals to qualifying children over the summer, as well as the new under President Biden SUN Meals To-Go program which is now offering delivery of meals to low-income children in rural areas. This grant is meant to help local governments build up the Infrastructure to support and distribute SUN Bucks. If fully implemented SUN Bucks could help 30 million kids, but many Republican governors have refused the funding.

USAID announced its giving $100 million to the UN World Food Program to deliver urgently needed food assistance in Gaza. This will bring the total humanitarian aid given by the US to the Palestinian people since the war started in October 2023 to $774 million, the single largest donor nation. President Biden at his press conference last night said that Israel and Hamas have agreed in principle to a ceasefire deal that will end the war and release the hostages. US negotiators are working to close the final gaps between the two sides and end the war.

The Senate confirmed Nancy Maldonado to serve as a Judge on the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals. Judge Maldonado is the 202nd federal Judge appointed by President Biden to be confirmed. She will the first Latino judge to ever serve on the 7th Circuit which covers Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin.

Bonus: At the NATO summit in Washington DC President Biden joined 32 allies in the Ukraine compact. Allies from Japan to Iceland confirmed their support for Ukraine and deepening their commitments to building Ukraine's forces and keeping a free and Democratic Ukraine in the face of Russian aggression. World leaders such as British Prime Minster Keir Starmer, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, French President Emmanuel Macron, and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, praised President Biden's experience and leadership during the NATO summit

[hannieehaee]

EUPHORIA (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: you've been inseparable with jungkook from the moment you landed in korea. from the initial language barrier to your group's immense success, you've remained dubbed as an iconic duo. but what will you do when a single moment changes everything between you?

content: idol!jungkook x idol!reader, f2l!jungkook, 8thfemalemember!reader, afab reader, reader is implied to be a foreign member of bts but you can assume all dialogue is supposed to be in korean, pretend this takes place during 2018/19 while they promoted fake love in the u.s, appearances from the other members, pining, miscommunication, dumb insecurities, smut, dry humping, body worship, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.6k (teaser); 12.5k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: december 22nd

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: this was not fully proofread cuz it took me veryyy long to finish, so pls excuse any small mistakes<3

masterlist | patreon

"That's not how you're supposed to do it."

You sighed, movements halting and your eyes closing in annoyance.

Turning to face the culprit of the comment, you reopen your eyes, ready to snark at the exact person you were expecting.

"Do you have to be the bane of my existence?"

He chucked at that, nodding at you to turn and face the mirror located behind you once more. It was foggy due to the inhuman amount of heavy breathing exchanged in the practice room, but you could still easily make yourself on it. And Jungkook too, of course.

Standing behind you, — with an offensive lack of distance between your bodies — he grabbed onto your arms from behind, helping you position yourself to perfection, even to the exact inch, of the move you were trying to perform. His eyes found yours on the mirror, giving you a short smile before beginning to guide you through the small transition you'd been struggling with.

"See? Like that," he said once finally letting go of you after walking you through it a few times. By the end, you had gotten it as perfectly as your choreographer had described to you a few hours ago.

"Thanks, Kook."

"Thought I was the bane of your existence?", he chuckled as he bent down to collect a water bottle, taking a sip before handing it to you.

You were usually more worried by boy germs than this, but Jungkook proved to be an exception through the past few years.

You swallowed your sip, "Yeah, but I still have manners."

"C'mon, we should head back to the dorms. You've been at this all day. You beat Jimin at hours logged into the practice room this week," it was meant lightheartedly, but it was true. You'd practically been living here for the past few days.

"Where are the guys?", you wondered out loud as you followed him out.

The dorms, as Kook had called them, were really just a small living space located within the building. There were talks of moving onto a larger building within the next couple of years, but for now you were content with your living arrangements. Despite all of you either owning property or having family outside of the company building, you and a few other members usually opted to stay there due to convenience. You and Jungkook were the main ones to do so.

"Well, we technically have the next few days off, so I'm pretty sure they went visit family while they can. We probably won't be back in Korea for a while after promotions start."

It was true. You were soon due to head to America to promote your newest comeback. This was the first time you'd be taking promotions out of Asia and into the west, which made all of you incredibly anxious. As the most fluent English speaker in the group, the task of being the group's representative should've fallen on you, but luckily Joon had decided he'd be taking the brunt of it for you.

Still, you were terrified to open yourselves up for a way bigger audience.

"You good?" Kook interrupted your thoughts.

"Yeah, Kook. Don't worry about it."

The two of you headed over to the elevators, pressing the button leading you to the floor where your rooms were located. It was likely no one else was in the building at this time — holy shit, was it really 3am? — meaning that you and Kook would likely get some well-deserved rest in the privacy of the dorms.

That was one of the few nice parts of belonging to what once was a very small company. You had no sibling groups as of yet, which kind of made you own the place (or at least that's how Taehyung would put it sometimes). Late at night, it was just you and your group mates with the occasional presence of staff. Though more commonly, it was just you and Kook opting to stay together into the depths of the night.

"Nervous about flying to the U.S?", he voiced when the metal doors closed in front of you, caging you in with your friend.

"Maybe. You're not?"

He shrugged, "It's just like any other performance. You should be the least nervous. You speak English. You already know what America's like."

"Me? I'm the only girl in the group. I'm gonna stand out like a sore thumb," you whined, earning a chuckle from him.

It was a rare situation, being a girl in a group full of men. Other co-ed groups existed within Kpop, but they usually held a better boy-to-girl ratio.

But this wasn't really the reason you were nervous.

Opening yourselves up to an entire new audience within a mere five years since debut was an entire new battle you'd have to face. Worst of all was that no other Kpop group had ever truly promoted in the west before now. You were given accolades as trailblazers, but at what cost?

"Hey," Jungkook called your attention again, gesturing you to follow him into the hallway that would lead you to your room, "C'mon, let's find something to take your mind off of this."

Leading you into his room rather than yours, he sat you on his couch as he went back out to peruse the kitchen of any food he could get for the two of you for an impromptu night indulging yourselves. You relaxed as you waited, appreciative of Jungkook immediately noticing your lack of ease and working towards getting you cooled down again.

He always did have a way of being in tune with your emotions that no one else did.

His room was spacious and tidier than the average for a man in his early 20's. It was common for you to spend time here rather than in your own room. You had always been one to wander in search of your bandmates, and Jungkook just so happened to be the most receptive to it of them all.

The click clank of bottles bumping into each other was your first indicator of his return, making you look up from the couch, unable to withhold a smile when you saw him balancing various bottles of soju in his arms while also attempting to carry a few packets of spicy ramen.

Getting up to help him, you aided him in setting down all his snacks on the coffee table, moving aside any remote and controller that was in the way. Your usual set up was established then, as it had countless times before. It consisted of you and Kook on his old couch (that he refused to replace from the old days in which you could barely afford any luxuries) with a variety of alcohol and snacks accompanying you through the night.

He took a seat on the floor while you remained on the couch. It was common for him. Something about being at optimal proximity to the food on the table.

"We've got two more nights left in Korea. What do you wanna do to spend the time? And no, practicing isn't allowed," he interrupted you before you could respond.

You huffed, shoulders slacking before going back to their usual posture, "Well, then I guess just this."

"Just this? My dorm and some soju?"

"Yep. We're going to be overwhelmed by people and schedules as soon as we leave Korea. Might as well enjoy the quiet alone time," you reasoned.

Jungkook hummed in pensiveness, "Does it really count as alone time if it's together?"

"I like my alone time better when I'm with you," was your response.

And you meant it too. The quiet sometimes became too quiet if Jungkook wasn't around. You'd known him since you were 15 and had been unable to imagine an existence without him since.

It was joked around by members and fans alike, that the two of you were attached to the hip. Some people would even call you a dynamic duo due to how often you were together with no distance between you. Of course, you were shipped and speculated as a couple, but that did nothing to deter your friendship.

Had you been a smarter person, you would've noticed Jungkook's bashful smile at your response. But you'd grown so used to his constant company that the idea of anything further than platonic did not compute in your brain. You weren't even sure if you were opposed to it; it was just nonexistent to you. It was as if he'd spawned as your friend one day and you never once stopped to question it.

"Well, let's enjoy it while we can," he finally responded as he handed you a now-opened bottle of soju.

Clanking bottles, you each took a small swing, settling in for a night that you'd likely not spend sleeping. You settled closer to Jungkook after that, letting yourself slide off the couch snd knocking shoulders with him as you took a seat on the softness of the rug under you.

"What do you wanna do to spend your last few nights of freedom?" you asked after some silence.

"I'll do whatever you want," his head fell to your shoulder, "We can just camp in here til they come get us for our flight on Monday."

You hummed in absentminded agreement, sipping at your drink a little more.

Jungkook turned to look at you then, slight bunny smile showing through.

"So, is tonight a blackout drunk night or do you wanna stay up and watch some movies?"

"Hmm. Maybe a mixture?", you suggested.

With a grin, he raised his bottle for yet another clink before taking a drink from it in tandem with you.

...

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reply if you'd like to be tagged!

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: set in a timeline where Logan and Alex Summers have beef since i envision this with the days of future past casting!

ch 1

warnings: mentions of blood, needles, generic doctor stuff, cussing i think, angsty lol

ur at the start -- next

~~~~~

The mansion was always having a frenzy. The rotating door of constant students, the random federal agents that never seem to fully go away, and the weird brotherhood that seemed to always succeed in attacking the school and yet never actually hurt anyone. In other words, this was the most fun you have ever had in centuries. The latest fun you ran into at the school was right now. Watching the students frantically try to finish the book report they were assigned by Storm. Listening to their banter and recollection of the book made you giggle at them. Scott Summers, the most vocal of the group, turned to look at you with a scowl on his face.

“Oh like you know anything about, uh, what are we reading?” He said turning back to his friends.

“Dracula?” You inquired, bringing the drink up to your lips.”I was there when it was written.” You smiled. “But don’t expect my help okay? I promised Storm that I wouldn’t say a word.” You walked out of room with a small smirk on your face, listening to their arguing fade.

Humming to yourself, you observed the students on your walk back to your office. As the school nurse, you knew a lot of the students on a first name basis. Many repeat visitors had graced your office with superficial wounds just so they would see you, and your favorite?

Mr. Logan Howlett, the Wolverine himself. Who was sitting on the bench in your office, awaiting your return. Your eyes locked onto his own, and your smile grew, exposing your fangs slightly.

“Well if it isn’t my most needy patient.”

“Guilty as charged,” he muttered standing to greet you. Pulling you into a hug, he squeezed you tight.

“Another day, another blood test?” You inquired, already knowing the answer. Your oldest friend nodded, removing his jacket so you could start to prep his arm for the extraction. Pulling over a stool, you sat as you wrapped the tourniquet over his bicep. “This might hurt”

“You say that everytime.” Logan responded, rolling his eyes and inhaling as the needle entered his skin. “You should train with us again” It was your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“Now you say that everytime,” he huffed at you using his words against him. “I am not who I was a hundred and what? Fifty years ago? I am a doctor, I help people… I am not a vampire.” You muttered the last bit, removing the needle from his arm and taping down gauze. Even though he didn’t need it, it helped him feel human.

You had met Logan around 1899, in the streets of London on the way to America. You both had caused some havoc and needed to escape the city until you had “died”. You both instantly bonded over your mutations and the fact that you both couldn’t die. You certainly had tried, burned at the stake, drowned, stabbed, shot in the head, even a stake to your heart. Your mutation had cursed to you continuously walk to the ends of the earth every time you needed a new identity, and somehow Logan was the same. If it weren’t for the adamantium poisoning his blood.

Holding the vial up to the light, you closed your eyes and focuses on the blood inside. Listening to the way it flowed and coagulated. Reopening your eyes, you stared at the vial until finally, you unscrewed the cap and took a sip. Closing it up, you placed it inside a centrifuge and wiped your mouth of any remains.

“Its so freaky when you do that.” Your rolled your eyes at him. “Especially when you drink it, why don’t you just take it from the source at that point”

“Firstly, I can taste the bourbon you had at lunch. Don’t you know addiction is bad for you? Secondly, I can tell that the serum has been working. I don’t taste the metal as much anymore. You should only need to get three more shots and finish one more round of antibiotics.” You informed him as he put on his jacket. “I love you Lo, but for the love of god please eat a vegetable, I can feel the fat you’ve been consuming.” He chuckled at your request and patted your head. Placing a small kiss on the top of your head, he left your office and shut the door behind him.

Sighing, you turned to start the centrifuge and rested your head on your hand. You hated how he did that. Joked with you and kissed you like you were his world. You knew you weren’t even close to being the owner of his heart. You had tried once, back before the great depression, but he wasn’t interested. He always had his eye on another.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift away from your thoughts. Enjoying the silence you rarely got.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Could we please have some fun facts about the great state of Massachusetts?

Massachusetts is by far the likeliest state in America to have a Nantucket. Several reports of at least one Martha's Vineyard and possibly even a Cape Cod have also emerged. If true, it would make Massachusetts the spiralliest state, as Cape Cod is basically the golden spiral of Capes as well as Cods.

Massachusetts has a rich history, which for some reason my old schoolbooks only date back to 1620 despite the area likely having existed before then. History in Massachusetts consists of tea parties, men with the last name Adams, towns also named Adams, and also Matt Damon, who was born Adam A. Adams.

Massachusetts also has a rich future, including the Boston Retro Speedrun Festival where the Super Mario 4:50 barrier will be broken, the Boston Phoning-In Music Festival where Ariana Grande will reveal her next new ethnicity, and the Boston Molasses Factory Grand Reopening, at which nothing at all will go wrong.

[suppermariobroth]

Promotional photo of the ribbon cutting ceremony for the reopening of the Nintendo World store in New York in 2016 as "Nintendo New York".

Present at the event were, among others, Charles Martinet and Doug Bowser, who was Vice President of Sales instead of President of Nintendo of America at the time.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source

[deadmotelsusa]

You asked for more motel revivals so I'll share one of my current favorites: the Starlight Motor Inn of Charleston, South Carolina.

Originally opened as the Host of America Motel in 1961, this two-story modular motel is comprised of stackable, pre-built, and fully furnished units originally produced on an assembly line in Thomson, Georgia, likely making it the first of its kind in the country. The motel survived for decades and went through a name change to the Star of America Motel. In 2007, it was on the verge of death. The city of Charleston deemed it hazardous due to fire and building code violations. It reopened briefly before closing down again in 2018. 

Now called the Starlight Motor Inn, this motel was been lovingly restored with help of lead architectural historian Brittany Lavelle Tulla, who in 2019 was able to convince the city to take the property off of its list of condemned sites. In 2020, the building was added to the National Register of Historic Places. Today, the motel features 51 retro vintage-style guest rooms, a pool and cocktail lounge. The infrastructure and original midcentury design remain intact with minimal alteration. 

[papysanzonew]

Save Dead Boy Detectives

As we know, the show has been canceled. That doesn't mean we're going to sit here with our hands out and accept it (at least, I can't, because either I'm going to do something or spend the next few days crying) so: Sign up the petition:

Ask Netflix for a title: Request Dead Boy Detectives S2

Send a letter to Netflix:

Netflix, Inc.

121 Albright Way

Los Gatos, CA 95032, USA Go to Twitter and @ netflix.

Go to Twitter and use the hashtag #SaveDeadBoyDetectives #RenewDeadBoyDetectives and, of course, #DeadBoyDetectives to reblog anything DBD-related.

As someone pointed out on Twitter (read the Tweet HERE), Netflix decided to release the news on Friday night without saying anything personally, and their offices will reopen as soon as Tuesday (due to some holiday in America or something) so they hope to get the general bad feeling over with. Don't stop share/reblog. At least, please, try to do something until Tuesday and I beg of you to REBLOG this and not just like it. We should try and work together on this, even if it sounds stupid and even if it won't lead to anything, but at least we could say we tried, let's not give up. We are a wonderful fandom, they are a wonderful crew who deserve so much better and we all deserve a second season.

[robertreich]

Biden vs. Trump: Whose Economic Plan Is Better for You? 

Trump failed to deliver on his number one campaign promise:

President Trump presided over a historic net loss of nearly 3 million American jobs, the worst jobs numbers ever recorded under an American president.

This is no fluke. America’s economy has almost always done worse under Republican presidents. A New York Times analysis found that since 1933, the U.S. economy has grown nearly twice as fast on average under Democrats.

Now Trump’s defenders claim it’s not his fault that the economy collapsed under his watch. It was the pandemic. But there are two big things wrong with this.

First, the pandemic recession was as bad as it was because of Trump. His failure to lead with any national strategy left America in chaos throughout 2020, long after other nations had developed coordinated testing, tracing, and social distancing plans that allowed them to reopen their economies.

But secondly, even before the pandemic, Trump failed to deliver on his economic promises. Job growth slowed under Trump.

America added more jobs in President Obama’s last three years than in Trump’s first three.

Even before the pandemic most middle-class American households saw their incomes go down under Trump.

Trump’s major economic policy was cutting taxes on the rich and big corporations. He promised it would result in $4,000 annual raises for workers. How did that work out? Did you get a $4,000 raise?

Republicans keep claiming that if we just cut enough taxes on the rich, the wealth will “trickle down.” But it never works. Wage growth slowed after Reagan’s tax cuts for the rich and big corporations. And the Bush and Trump tax cuts didn’t trickle down either.

These giveaways to the wealthy came at the expense of investments in infrastructure, education, and health care, making life more expensive and difficult for everyone who isn’t rich.

They also exploded the debt and deficit. Reagan oversaw a 186% increase in the national debt — the biggest percentage increase in over 70 years. The Bush and Trump tax cuts, that mostly benefited corporations and the rich, are the main reasons why America’s debt is growing faster than the economy.

Republican presidents have led us into the three worst economic crises of the last century, and Democrats led us out of them.

Republicans talk about running the country like a business, but they want to run it the way Trump ran his businesses: with massive debts, a string of failures, and payouts for the folks at the top, while workers get shafted again and again. Given Republicans’ track record, why would any hard-working American put their financial security in the hands of a Republican president ever again?

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Day 1 of @hprecfest - First fic you read/first fic you remember reading

I started reading in the early 2000s, before HBP was published, so this is a tricky one to start off with! I vividly remember reading along to Cassandra Clare's Draco Trilogy and Maya's Underwater Light - both WIPs at the time, and neither freely available now 💀 if anyone else was around then, though, I have compiled a reclist of Vintage Drarry Fics (2001-2006, including such classics as Irresistible Poison, Beautiful World, Seamus is Seamus, and Love Under Will).

The fic I've chosen to rec today is the one that brought me back into fandom after a decade out; indirectly I suppose it's the reason I'm here at all, and so perhaps the lesson for any creators reading this is that you'll truly never know the impact your works have, even decades down the line!

Transfigurations, by Resonant : E, 71k, 2003 (MCD warning, but not for Drarry)

Summary: Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Excerpt:

"You're going to have to talk about it sooner or later, Harry," she said. "I know it's hard for you, but --"

"Hermione --" He looked over her shoulder, searching for something that would distract her.

He succeeded a little better than he would have liked. First he caught a flash of pale hair in the shadows behind the top table. Then the shape came clear. An expensively tailored robe, an expensively bejewelled hand, an expensively barbered head, an expensively curled lip --

Was he never going to be free of Draco Malfoy?

Hermione followed Harry's eyes, and then she straightened up suddenly, crying, "Draco!" and ran to clasp Malfoy. Harry stared dumbly after her. "Mother sent a book for you, and some biscuits, they're in here somewhere --"

"Never mind that," Malfoy said, hugging her roughly. Harry felt a pang of fury. Since when was Hermione so cozy with Malfoy? "What I want to know is, did Mrs. Spenser ever find Bratleigh's tooth?"

"Oh, yes, it turned out to be in his little brother's forearm -- but how are you getting on without mechanical pencils?"

"Musgrove's Magic Pencils are nearly as good, though not quite so satisfying to click ..." Harry watched their two heads bent together, the dark and the fair. They were exactly the same height, like a matched set of figurines. Something extremely strange must have happened while he was in Florida.

Malfoy was still affecting the look of a wizard-bard from a storybook, Harry thought scornfully: pale hair falling to his shoulders, deep-plum robe heavily embroidered in the same color around the collar, narrow hands heavy with silver rings. Harry hadn't remembered his mouth being quite so red.

He looked up and caught Harry looking, and something crossed his face that wasn't quite the expected sneer. Hermione was tugging him over by the arm. "Harry just got in today from America, Draco, he didn't tell anybody he was coming, I think he forgot how to write a letter --"

"He's forgotten a lot of things, I imagine," Malfoy drawled, but he offered a hand. "Potter. Welcome back."

Damn it, even his languid, lingering handshake felt as though there was an insult behind it.

Where to start with this fic? The premise is that following the war, Harry left for Florida, settling down with a group of Indigenous wixen as they worked to set up a new school of wizardry. He returns, five years later, to a Hogwarts in trouble, rife with traps and curses laid by Death Eaters long gone, and to his old friends, whose letters he'd mostly ignored during his time abroad. Many of the old faces are familiar, but the addition of Malfoy, now, inexplicably, best friends with Hermione and Professor of Muggle Studies, irritates Harry beyond belief. Worst of all, when it comes to Cursebreaking, Harry and Malfoy's magic works best in sync, so to their horror they find themselves paired together as they work to make the school safe on its reopening.

There are so very many things to love about this fic. The narrative tone feels very true to canon, as does Harry's voice; possibly a result of its being published while the books were still coming out, but unlike many of the other fics written back then, it has a very adult feel. It's set entirely in Hogwarts, and with a huge cast of supporting characters, including a sneering, dramatic statue of the deceased Professor Snape, sexy handyman Ron, COMC Professor Charlie Weasley, and some wonderfully endearing OCs. The writing's lovely and clean, sparing, but still very visual, and full of worldbuilding details so unique and rich you'll be thinking about them years later (trust me). And the relationship development is truly second to none; we come to love this Malfoy reluctantly, but so so deeply, along with Harry. Also, this fic has, to me, the original rushed sex in a bathroom stall scene, and one of the sexiest undressing scenes you'll ever read. I absolutely adore it, can quote huge chunks, and every single time I read it it brings back everything I love about the world of Harry Potter. Go and add it to your MFL, and you can thank me later <3

If you read it, and if especially you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

[chamerionwrites]

President Biden issued an executive order on Tuesday that prevents migrants from seeking asylum at the U.S.-Mexico border when crossings surge, a dramatic election-year move to ease pressure on the immigration system and address a major concern among voters.

The measure is the most restrictive border policy instituted by Mr. Biden, or any other modern Democrat, and echoes an effort in 2018 by President Donald J. Trump to cut off migration that was blocked in federal court.

In remarks at the White House, Mr. Biden said he was forced to take executive action because Republicans had blocked bipartisan legislation that had some of the most significant border security restrictions Congress had considered in years.

“We must face a simple truth,” said the president, who was joined by a group of lawmakers and mayors from border communities. “To protect America as a land that welcomes immigrants, we must first secure the border and secure it now.”

Aware that the policy raised uncomfortable comparisons, Mr. Biden took pains to distinguish his actions from those of Mr. Trump. “We continue to work closely with our Mexican neighbors instead of attacking them,” Mr. Biden said. He said he would never refer to immigrants as “poisoning the blood” of the country, as Mr. Trump has done.

Still, the move shows how drastically the politics of immigration have shifted to the right in the United States. Polls suggest there is support in both parties for border measures once denounced by Democrats and championed by Mr. Trump as the number of people crossing into the country has reached record levels in recent years.

The restrictions kick in once the seven-day average for illegal crossings hits 2,500 per day. Daily totals already exceed that number, which means that Mr. Biden’s executive order could go into effect right away — allowing border officers to return migrants across the border into Mexico or to their home countries within hours or days.

Typically, migrants who cross illegally and claim asylum are released into the United States to wait for court appearances, where they can plead their cases. But a huge backlog means those cases can take years to come up.

The new system is designed to deter those illegal crossings.

The border would reopen to asylum seekers only when the number of crossings falls significantly. The figure would have to stay below a daily average of 1,500 for seven days in a row. The border would reopen to migrants two weeks after that.

The American Civil Liberties Union said it planned to challenge the executive action in court.

“The administration has left us little choice but to sue,” said Lee Gelernt, a lawyer at the A.C.L.U, which led the charge against the Trump administration’s attempt to block asylum in 2018 and resulted in the policy being stopped by federal courts. “It was unlawful under Trump and is no less illegal now.”

There would be limited exceptions to the restrictions announced Tuesday, including for minors who cross the border alone, victims of human trafficking and those who use a Customs and Border Protection app to schedule an appointment with a border officer to request asylum.

But for the most part, the order suspends longtime guarantees that give anyone who steps onto U.S. soil the right to seek a safe haven.

The executive action mirrors the legislation that Republicans blocked in February, saying it was not strong enough. Many of them, egged on by Mr. Trump, were loath to give Mr. Biden a legislative victory in an election year.

“Donald Trump begged them to vote ‘no’ because he was worried that more border enforcement would hurt him politically,” Andrew Bates, a White House spokesman, said in a statement on Tuesday. He added: “The American people want bipartisan solutions to border security — not cynical politics.”

Immigration advocates and some progressive Democrats have expressed concern that Mr. Biden was abandoning his promise to rebuild the asylum system.

“By reviving Trump’s asylum ban, President Biden has undermined American values and abandoned our nation’s obligations to provide people fleeing persecution, violence, and authoritarianism with an opportunity to seek refuge in the U.S.,” said Senator Alex Padilla, Democrat of California.

Tuesday’s decision is a stark turnaround for Mr. Biden, who came into office attacking Mr. Trump for his efforts to restrict asylum. During a 2019 debate, Mr. Biden, then a candidate running against Mr. Trump for the first time, excoriated his rival’s policies.

“This is the first president in the history of the United States of America that anybody seeking asylum has to do it in another country,” Mr. Biden said at the time.

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 8 (FINISHED 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, final chapter.

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, final chapter.

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

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #36

September 27-October 4 2024

President Biden and Vice-President Harris have lead the federal response to Hurricane Helene. President Biden's leadership earned praise from the Republican Governors of South Carolina, Virginia, Tennessee, and Georgia, as well as the Democratic Governor of North Carolina and local leaders. Thousands of federal workers are on the ground in effected communities having given out to date over 8 million meals, over 7 million letters of water. Both President Biden and Vice-President Harris have been on the ground in resent days meeting with effected families. During her trip to Georgia Vice-President Harris announced that the federal government will reimburse state and local government 100% of the costs from Hurricane Helene.

A strike by the International Longshoremen’s Association that briefly shut down ports on the East Cost and Gulf ended in a tentative deal. Both sides thanked Acting Secretary of Labor Julie Su and Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg for helping push the deal through. President Biden and Vice-President Harris had expressed solidarity with the works when the strike was announced and President Biden directed Secretary Buttigieg to take the lead in pressuring management to make a deal with the Longshoremen. The ILA got a 62% raise as part of the agreement.

Vice President Harris announced new actions to help those struggling with medical debt. This actions include new standards from the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau on debt collection. the CFPB plans on requiring debt collectors to confirm debts are valid and accurate before engaging in collection actions. As well as cracking down on debt collectors that collect on debt that is not owed by patients. Other actions included an announcement by the DoD that it was reducing pricing for civilians who get medical treatment at DoD hospitals and a track down on tax-exempt hospitals who are required by law to offer financial assistance but often do not. These steps come after Vice President Harris in June announced plans to remove medical debt from credit scores. Following the Vice President's call to action North Carolina moved forward a plan to eliminate medical debt for 2 million people in the state. President Biden's American Rescue Plan funds have been used by state and local Democrats to eliminate $7 billion dollars in medical debt.

The Department of Transportation announced $62 Billion in infrastructure funding for 2025. Thanks to the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law passed by President Biden this will be $18 billion dollars more than was spent in 2021. The Biden-Harris Admin has helped support over 60,000 infrastructure projects across all 50 states, rebuilding roads and bridges, breaking ground on America's first high speed rail, updating ports and airports, and breaking high speed internet to rural communities.

The Department of Transportation announced $1 Billion dollars of investment in America's passenger rail future. This comes on top of $8.2 billion in investments announced in December 2023. The funds will help expand and modernize intercity passenger rail nationwide.

The Departments of Energy and Agriculture announced a $2.8 billion joint project to bring 100% carbon pollution-free energy to the rural midwest. The DoE is investing $1.5 billion into helping bring the Palisades Nuclear Plant in Michigan back on-line. Shut down in 2022 plans to refit and reopen it to allow the plant to keep generating clean energy till 2051. Once back online the Palisades Nuclear Plant will help stop an anticipated 4.47 million metric tons of greenhouse gas emissions a year, or 111 million metric tons of greenhouse gas emissions over its lifetime. The USDA is investing $1.3 billion in two rural electric cooperatives, Wolverine Power Cooperative and Hoosier Energy, which cover rural communities in Michigan, Illinois, and Indiana. This investment will help Wolverine and Hoosier connect to the Palisades Plant, reduce prices for customers, and reduce climate pollution, putting Wolverine Power on the path to be 100 percent carbon-free energy before 2030.

The Treasury and the IRS announced that 30 million Americans, across 24 states will qualify for free direct filing of their taxes in 2025. The IRS says that the average American spends $270 dollars and 13 hours filing their taxes. Thanks to the Inflation Reduction Act, passed by President Biden with Vice President Harris' tie breaking vote, Americans will be able to file their taxes quickly and for free directly with the IRS. Tax payers in Alaska, Arizona, California, Connecticut, Florida, Idaho, Kansas, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Washington, Wisconsin, and Wyoming will in 2025 be able to use direct file.

The USDA announced $7.7 billion in funding for Climate-Smart Practices on Agricultural Lands. This represents the single biggest investment in these programs in USDA history. Since implementation began in 2023 this conservation assistance has helped over 28,500 farmers and ranchers apply conservation to 361 million acres of land.

The Department of Energy announced $1.5 billion in investments in transmission infrastructure to help ensure our grid is reliable and resilient. This will help support nearly 1,000 miles of new transmission lines across Louisiana, Maine, Mississippi, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas. These lines will bring 7,100 MW of new capacity and create 9,000 good paying union jobs. Studies find to keep up with growth and meet our climate goals of carbon free energy the US will need to triple the 2020 transmission capacity by 2050. This is an important step to meeting that goal.

[architectureofdoom]

1963 postcard from The Whitehall in Houston, Texas, designed by Welton Becket and Associates. It’s closed, reopened, and reopened again over the years.

(Historic Hotels of America)

[vintagelasvegas]

Sands Hotel & Casino '52-'96

Sands, December 1952

'46: Kit Carson Club opened by H. Bynum, D. Anderson, G. Frisbee on US Hwy 91 outside of Las Vegas, adjacent to Kit Carson Motel. The club will later become LaRue nightclub, then the Garden Room of the Sands Hotel.

'50: Kit Carson Club reopened as LaRue nightclub opened by Billy Wilkerson, Nola Hahn, 12/23/50.

'51: LaRue closed by summer. Mack Kufferman buys LaRue, and hires architect Wayne McAllister to build around the existing club. Kuffman and partners apply for gaming license. The project is called Sands by 12/51.

'52: Kufferman gaming license denied in Apr., sells to Jake Freedman (RG 4/9/52, RG 6/13/52). Partners running the Sands are B. Barron, E. Levinson (casino manager), S. Wyman, J. Entratter (showroom & restaurants). Hidden partners are believed to include J. Stacher, M. Lansky. Sands road sign designed by McAllister, built by YESCO. Sands opens 12/15/52 with 200 rooms in five buildings arranged in Y-shaped layout. The guest wings are named after race tracks: Arlington Park, Belmont Park, Haileah, Rockingham Park, Santa Anita. Three other wings of equal size were added circa ’53-54 (two were named Churchill Downs, Hollywood Park), another by ’58, and larger wing by ’60. The total room count in ’60 was 465.

'53: Frank Sinatra plays his first engagement at the Sands and becomes two percent owner in Oct; Carl Cohen joins the Sands as shareholder and casino manager in Oct.

'54: Sign modification: Second reader board added below the main board, Feb or earlier. Antonio Morelli joins the Sands as musical director for the Copa in Jul.

'55: Sands partners assume control of the Dunes in Sep. They sell the Dunes in four months later.

'58: Jake Freedman dies 1/19/58; Jack Entratter becomes Sands president.

'59: Sign modification: Attraction board attached to the sign, Feb or earlier. Baccarat begins at the Sands.

'60: Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr, Peter Lawford, and Joey Bishop (the "Rat Pack") are first billed together in the Copa in Jan-Feb. during the filming of Ocean's 11. Senator John F. Kennedy visits during the Democratic primary campaign.

'63: Opening of Aqueduct hotel wing (83 rm) in Apr. Julius Gabrielle, architect (RJ 4/28/63). Sinatra surrenders ownership 10/7/63.

'64: Sands acquires the former Kit Carson Motel; Belmont and Arlington buildings (base of the Y) moved southward to accommodate construction of a hotel tower.

'65: Second sign in Aug; tower completed late in the year and officially opened Jan. ’66. Martin Stern Jr, architect.

'67: Howard Hughes buys the Sands, 7/23/67. Sinatra leaves his Sands residency after confrontation with Cohen, 9/11/67.

'69: Dean Martin leaves Sands to join Riviera.

'71: Entratter dies, 3/8/71.

'73: Cohen leaves the Sands, Jan. '73.

'80: Inns of America buys the Sands from Hughes heirs Summa Corp in Oct.

'82: Third sign, new porte-cochère, marking the completion of remodeling effort including new Copa room, 1/15/82.

'83: Summa Corp reassumes control of the Sands, 4/5/83.

'88: Kirk Kerkorian buys the Sands in Jan. Kerkorian sells to Interface Group led by Sheldon Addison in Apr.

'90: Sands Expo and Convention Center opens.

'94: Remodeling of the casino.

'96: Sands closes 6/30/96. Tower demolished 11/26/96.

Photos of the Sands

Sources include David G. Schwartz. At the Sands: The Casino That Shaped Classic Las Vegas, Brought the Rat Pack Together, and Went Out With a Bang. December 1952 photo courtesy of Slidetreasurehunt.

Construction of the sign, 1952. The pylon sign pedestal was 56’ high, 21’ wide, with the S at 34’ tall. Design by Wayne McAllister, fabricated and installed by Young Electric Sign Co. Photo: YESCO Corporate Records (MS-00403), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Opens Dec 15. Danny Thomas, Connie Rusell, Lou Wills Jr, Ray Sinatra Orchestra. Nevada State Museum, Las Vegas, 0007-0345.

Aerial view of Kit Carson Motel and the Sands, '62

[forsoobado137]

are their any disabled nations in your nation reveal AU? I personally headcanon Denmark and Latvia as autistic. what kind of ableism do they face if so? do they have to deal with the R/fakedisordercringe bullshit. I would imagine they get infantilized a lot especially if you add the combination if some are also queer

I think a majority of nations have PTSD. It's something that never truly goes away. They can heal and grow as much as they want, but there will always be an event/news story that will reopen that trauma all over again.

For physical disabilities, I think many nations have a lot of chronic pain due to disasters/economic and political issues happening in their countries (click for post about their symptoms). This is especially true for bigger nations like China and America, who have a lot of population and land area for natural disasters to strike. Most of them have gotten used to it, but there are moments where they're just like "HOLY FUCK I HATE THIS"

Also, many nations have been handicapped due to war and destruction in their countries. Fortunately, these injuries heal as the land and population heals, though they will definitely scar.

I also think Denmark and Latvia are on the spectrum. Latvia definitely gets infantilized due to both his autism and his stunted growth. I think Denmark gets infantilized a lot too because he's excitable and people see that as childish. Sweden also deals with the infantilizing/patronizing bullshit because he doesn't talk a lot, and people assume it's because he doesn't know what's going on.

I think they also have to deal with the frustration of people faking disorders or accusing them of faking. I imagine some nations have had seizures or have been in wheelchairs or have been overstimulated and people post them on reddit to mock them for "faking it". Though I like to imagine that they are the loud and ignorant minority.