#caretaker andrew

[1heartfanfics]

Hi! Your stories are amazing. I’m totally addicted. Zayn and Andrew are such a cute couple. I was hoping you’d be able to write something about Zaun being sick to his stomach and insisting on going to work because he’s a teacher and he needs to. I’m a teacher and I’ve had to work though sooo many bugs and it’s awful. I literally keep a box of supplies at work just in case. Bonus if someone has to come get him because he’s too sick to get himself home and they give him the whole, “I told you so”

“Morning babe,” Andrew said as he heard Zayn enter the kitchen. When he recieved no reply he looked up from the book he was reading. “You okay?” He asked.

Zayn just shrugged. He was already dressed for work, wearing slacks and a button down, but he looked tired and uncomfortable.

“I feel kinda sick to my stomach,” Zayn answered after a moment. He was cradling his belly with one hand.

“Maybe you should stay home today,” Andrew said, getting up and moving to Zayn’s side. He gently guided Zayn over to their dining table by his elbow and pressed him down onto the chair. “They can’t find a sub on this late of notice,” Zayn shook his head.

Andrew took a seat next to his husband and reached forward to press the back of his hand to Zayns cheek. He felt a little warm, he’d probably caught some kind of bug from the kids at school. “I know, but you really don’t look well hon,” Andrew said sadly, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll just have it be a work day for my students, I’ll be okay,” he shrugged, his mind clearly already made up. “Okay..” Andrew sighed, clearly worried. Zayn could be so stubborn when he was sick. At least he’d been open about telling Andrew he didn’t feel well. That was progress. “I’ll be fine babe,” Zayn said, smiling weakly to try and reassure his husband. “Okay, I hope your kids behave for you today,” Andrew said, leaning forward to kiss Zayn’s cheek as he stood up to take his breakfast dishes to the sink.

“Me too,” Zayn sighed, forcing himself to get up from the table and finish getting ready. As he was putting his shoes and coat on, Andrew came in and held out a tote bag to him. “Here, I made you a little sick day care package to take to work.” Zayn peaked into the bag. A packet of chamomile tea, some mints, pepto, some saltines, and a can of ginger ale. “You’re so sweet, thank you,” Zayn said, slinging the bag over his shoulder along with his backpack. Andrew smiled at him sadly. He sounded exhausted already and his day hadn’t even begun yet.

“Call me if you need anything and I can run it up to you okay?” Andrew said, leaning over to give Zayn another peck on the cheek. “I will. I love you,” Zayn answered, feeling so grateful for Andrew.

“I love you too.” Andrew replied as Zayn stepped outside and headed to work. Andrew just hoped he could make it through the day.

———————————————————————

The drive to the elementary school had felt longer than usual. Each turn made Zayn’s stomach flip. By the time he arrived and parked his car, he was s already starting to feel nauseous. Once he got to his classroom he took a swig of the pepto and popped a mint into his mouth. Then he headed to the teachers lounge to heat up some water for the tea. He hoped that would be enough. Thankfully, he managed to calm his stomach down to a dull ache by the time his students started arriving. He didn't greet them all as he usually did, but tried to give each student a smile and a wave as they entered the classroom and made their way to their seat.

"Alright, how's everyone doing today?" Zayn asked his class after the bell rang. He received a chorus of words that he couldn't understand, as usual.

"Anyone have any fun plans this weekend" he asked as he wheeled his chair out from behind his desk to sit at the front of the classroom and sat back down in front of the students. A few raised their hands and told him about their family outings or sporting events taking place this weekend.

"Awesome, thanks for sharing guys," he said, debating on what he wanted to tell them. "So, I'm going to be honest with you all, I am a little under the weather today. So we're just going to have a work-day. That means that if you've got any assignments due or late work to catch up on, you can do that. Otherwise, you're free to read a book, do some creative writing, or find an art project from our creation corner," he explained.

"Are you sick Mr.Kalani?" one of his students asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah sweetie I am," Zayn sighed.

"My mom says you should stay home when you're sick," another student spoke up.

"Your mom is right," Zayn chuckled lightly, "I wanted to stay home but there wasn't enough time to find a sub for you guys, so I'm just going to power through," he explained.

"So, I'll be at my desk if anyone needs me. Feel free to listen to music if you want but no games and try to keep chitchat at a whisper level okay?" he continued, finishing up his instructions.

With that, his students started rummaging around in their backpacks for assignments and books. Luckily, he had a pretty good class this year. No real problem students, just some kids who liked to talk during class a little too much, but he could handle that.

Zayn scooted back to his desk, wishing he could just dim the lights and take a nap. His stomach was already starting to turn again. Maybe he should see if they could at least get a sub for the second half of the day.

He opened his email and typed a message to the principal:

'Hello Mr. Whitman,

I am feeling pretty ill this morning and wanted to see if there was any possibility of getting a sub for my class starting after lunch. I can power through if I need to but a half day would be much appreciated.

Thanks,

Zayn'

He hit send before he could have second thoughts. Normally he wouldn't even ask but he genuinely felt so unwell that he really wasn't sure he actually could make it through the day. Andrew had been right.

Mr. Whitman responded within minutes: 'I'll see what I can do'. Which was about the best response Zayn could've hoped for.

As the minutes ticked on, Zayn's stomach grew more and more upset. He could feel it churning sickly and resisted the urge to press his hand to it. A few times his stomach lurched, thankfully only forcing up belches that he attempted to muffle into his fist.

By some miracle, he made it to 10 o'clock, which was when his class went to gym. He got everyone lined up and led them through the school to the gymnasium.

Mr. Penn immediately got the kids started with a game of dodgeball, then walked over to where Zayn was slumped against the wall.

"You feeling alright?" Mr. Penn asked.

Zayn shook his head, "Not really. Hoping Mr. Whitman can get a sub for me after lunch."

"Yeah hopefully he can, you really aren't looking so good," Mr. Penn said, cringing in sympathy. "You can go back to your classroom if you want, I've got 'em. I'll bring 'em back to you in an hour," he added, nodding toward the door.

"Thank you," Zayn breathed out, giving the other teacher a grateful smile before slinking out and heading back to his classroom. Standing had made him feel about 15 times worse. The nausea had returned in full force, making him press a fist to his mouth as he walked, afraid something might come out if he didn't.

Once he was sitting as his desk again the nausea receded slightly, but he still felt like he could throw up at any moment. He cracked open the can of ginger ale from Andrew and took a careful sip. The cool fizzy drink did feel nice in his sick belly, but it didn't lessen the feeling of nausea. Zayn leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, focusing on taking slow breaths through his nose. He must have drifted off though because he was startled awake when the door swung open and his kids filed in.

“Thanks,” he croaked to Mr. Penn, forcing himself to stand up even as his stomach sloshed in protest. “Hang in there brother,” Mr. Whitman said quietly on his way back out the door. Zayn nodded in thanks, afraid to say more. He was actively fighting back the nausea at this point, willing his stomach to stay in place. This was not good.

His students had all made their way back to their seats and were looking at him expectantly. He must really not look well because they weren't even talking amongst themselves, just watching him.

"Mr. K?" one of his students asked. Their voice sounded far away though, his ears were ringing.

His mouth started filling with saliva and he knew that it was over. There was nothing he could do. He rushed over to his desk and crouched down behind it to at least shield himself from his kids' eyes as he leaned over the trash can just in time to throw up what little he'd ingested.

"EWW!" a chorus of disgusted sounds and laughter came from his class on the other side of his desk. He couldn't worry about that right now though, he was too busy focusing on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth so he wouldn't throw up again.

He felt a small hand on his shoulder, "Mr. K should I go get some help?" one of his students, a sweet girl named Molly asked, standing behind him.

"Yes please," he rasped, cheeks flushing red. "Thank you Molly," he added as she turned to head out of the room. He couldn't believe that this had just happened. He'd never hear the end of it.

A minute later Molly returned with the teacher from across the hall, Mrs. Davis. She instructed Molly to return to her seat and asked his class to read quietly for a few minutes.

"Hey," she said, crouching down next to Zayn. "Came down with a bug huh?" she asked, smiling sympathetically. It happened to all new teachers in the winter. Kids bring in a lot of germs and it takes a few years to develop the immune system to fight everything off.

"I'm so sorry," Zayn said, dropping his head down into his hands. "I thought I could make it through the day."

"We always do. It happens to the best of us Zayn don't worry," she tried to reassure him. Zayn smiled woefully, but felt absolutely humiliated. And nauseous.

"I have two paras watching my kids right now so I can cover yours until Mr. Whitman finds a sub or figures something out. So whenever you're ready, grab your stuff and get out of here, okay?" she told him.

"Thank you Sara, I owe you one," Zayn sighed, taking a deep breath to try and regain his composure. He was already dreading standing up to the prying eyes of his students.

"No need, like I said, it happens," she shook her head, "Are you okay to drive home?" she asked. He really did not look well. His skin was deathly pale and ashen, damp with sweat. His hands shook as he reached up to brush his hair out of his face. He hardly looked fit to stand, let alone drive.

"Uh, yeah..." Zayn trailed off, not so sure, "I can call Andy," he finished, deciding that was probably the better idea. The last thing he needed was to puke all over himself while trying to drive home.

"That's probably a good idea," Sara nodded. "You ready to get up?" she asked.

Zayn nodded, though he wasn't really. Sara grabbed his elbow and gently helped him to his feet. He swayed, immediately dizzy, but grabbed the edge of his desk to steady himself. As he started to pack up his things he could feel the kids' eyes on him.

"I'm going to be hanging out with you guys for a while since Mr. Kalani isn't feeling well," Mrs. Davis said, walking to the front of the room and addressing his class.

"Feel better Mr.K!" a couple of kids called out as he finished packing his things.

"Thank you," he smiled gratefully, thankful to have such a sweet class. "Be good for Mrs. Davis okay? Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow," he added, waving to them as he shakily headed for the door.

As soon as he was out of eye sight, he leaned against the wall and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Opening a text to Andy he typed 'Can you come get me? I threw up and I really don't feel good' and sent it.

Almost immediately he got a response back: 'Poor baby :( omw'

Andrew had probably been waiting around, expecting this to happen. Zayn wished he'd just listened to him and stayed home today. Then this whole mess never would have happened.

By the time Zayn trudged his way to the back exit of the school, Andrew was parked and waiting for him. He got out, rushing over to Zayn to take his bag from him, then placed a hand on his back to lead him over to the car. Zayn carefully got into the passenger seat, afraid to upset his stomach any more than it already was.

"How's your stomach feeling?" Andrew asked after getting back into the driver's seat.

"Not good," Zayn shook his head. He was still unbearably nauseous, stomach feeling sour and unsettled.

"Here, just in case," Andrew said, handing Zayn a plastic bag. Zayn took it wordlessly, squeezing his eyes shut against the nausea and vertigo... and tears.

"Baby?" Andrew asked gently, seeing a tear slide down his husband's cheek. "What happened?"

"I puked in front of my whole class!" Zayn managed to get out before he burst into tears, pitching forward with a sob.

"Oh sweetie," Andrew sighed, rubbing a hand up and down Zayn's back. Zayn turned to bury his face in Andrew's shoulder, tears soaking into his flannel. Andrew wrapped his arm around Zayn, leaning down to press a kiss onto his forehead, which was burning with fever.

Zayn hiccuped, a sob morphing into a, thankfully, unproductive gag.

"Try to calm down Z, you're gonna make yourself sick again," Andrew said softly, rubbing Zayn's arm.

"I-i'm just so embarrassed," Zayn cried, sniffling as he tried to calm himself down.

"I know baby, I'm so sorry this happened. I'm sure it has happened to plenty of other teachers though," Andrew tried to reassure him.

"That's what Sara Davis said," Zayn sighed, reaching up to wipe the tears off his face. "She took over my class," he added, taking a slow shaky breath as the tears subsided.

"There you go, see? It happens. No big deal alright?" Andrew said, giving Zayn's shoulder a squeeze before retracting his arm to put the car in drive.

"I guess," Zayn shrugged, not really convinced but settled enough for now.

"Let's just get you home okay?" Andrew nodded, pulling out of the parking lot and heading for home.

[ladynicte]

I really wish I could understand what the hell is wrong with Andrew

like with Ashley it's so easy for me to see a traumatized girl whose parents didn't love her enough who lands pretty high end on a sociopathy scale and therefore has got an awful time trying to fit in into the groups around her

those around her can tell there's something off about her and wind up leaving her alone making her see herself as forced to manipulate and abuse her brother into staying with her to the point of creating a codependent emotionally incestuous relationship

but like its not just her

theres something wrong with andrew too and i cant figure out what it is like he isn't just stuck into the caretaker role with Ashley beyond purposefully choosing her to keep taking care of her

like he kills people too hes alright with screwing anybody else over if it means staying with her

like what's wrong with him he definitely doesnt seem to be the same as Ashley because he did have a girlfriend and apparently some friends before they got locked away into their apartment

and before Ashley harassed them into abandoning him

so does he just see himself as intrinsically linked to her like his whole identity has become just being able to take care of her

is it self loathing as well that he's different from the rest and he needs her to be there to be able to keep blaming her for his own misdeeds

Does he just love her so he doesnt want to let go of her and is willing to stand through everything for his love

and i guess they are trauma bonded together as well as only having each other maybe he is also afraid he wotn make it on his own without ashley by his side without some motive to live

is he that haunted by his own actions that he literally cannot bare to live if he doesnt have somebody else to take the burden for him so he cannot let go of the only person who helps him with that

Ashley also said its because shes the only person he can be real with that he cant bare to lose her but beyond the 'you cant sleep withouth me' claim andrew didnt dispute her

god i dont get that guy at all i love him so much

[seleneprince]

Not me coming back from Tcoaal and realizing the potential parallels between the main characters and the akashi siblings (-takeomi).

TW: Dark themes ahead, including manipulation, gaslighting, dubious consent, incestuous behaviour, sexual innuendos and overall pure toxic energy. Beware.

Both of them being raised by a neglectful and bordeline abusive caretaker (takeomi didn't give a fuck about haruchiyo's wellbeing and he even saw senju as a way to gain more power for himself). Haruchiyo being forced to take care of Senju and act like her pseudo-parent most of the time when takeomi can't be bothered to do so. Both growing closer and very dependent of each other because they have no one else to turn to and takeomi prefers to let haruchiyo handle it. Senju seems to be the favourite, but Takeomi can't stand tears and has little to no patience, so he passes her off to Haruchiyo whenever she gets difficult. It's only when she's "behaving" that Takeomi pays attention to her.

It was Haruchiyo who kissed her scrapped knees and cuts when she hurt herself to "take the pain away". It was up to him to read her bedtime stories when she couldn't sleep, to wipe her nose when it was runny, to stay by her side when she was sick. Takeomi went out of his way to make young Haruchiyo raise Senju so he didn't have to himself. And while he loves his sister more than anything, he also resents her, because he's being forced to sacrifice his childhood for her. There are times, when he's alone with his thoughts, that he wishes she didn't exist. This causes him nightmares.

Imagine them having to share a room because they struggle with money (their parents are clearly nowhere in the picture), so takeomi makes them sleep in the same room for years to save space. Senju sneaking into Haru's bed when she's scared and he always lets her, with complaints and sighs, but they always end up asleep in each other's arms. It becomes their routine, specially when they know Takeomi wouldn't ever listen to their fears or worries, let alone try to reassure them.

"It's okay, Senju. We have each other. That's all we need", he's caressing her hair and she believes him.

Imagine them after the "plane incident", when Haru's mental state begins to deteriorate. As expected, Takeomi doesn't try to comfort him, inmediately blaming him once again, and Senju feels so terribly guilty she cries about it. She eventually confesses Haruchiyo the truth and his resentment grows out of the surface. Their once sweet bond slowly grows into something twisted and toxic, because now he hates her but he still loves her too and can't bring himself to stay apart too long. Senju is very wary of him now but still seeks his presence. He tries to push her away, hurting her in places where Takeomi can't see, only to heal her himself later and comforting her like he's not the one who did it. She doesn't dare to speak up, mainly because she feels she deserves it. Haru encourages those thoughts.

"You see what you made me do, sister? This is your fault. Why do you piss me off?"

"I have these scars because of you. I'm gonna have them forever. You shoud make up for it, don't you think?"

"C'mon here, you crybaby, I'll patch you up. I didn't mean to go that far, okay? Here, let me fix it"

When he's not being a jerk, he becomes that caring and loving older brother Senju knows and craves. Those short moments of peace and safety with him are the reason she doesn't cut off ties completely. She's holding unto the hope that her brother will change.

As time passes, he becomes more and more possessive. He isolates Senju to make sure she only has him to rely on, terrorizing her friends (specially the boys) and anyone that shows interest in her. In return, she's also possessive with him and hates when he hangs out with others because it feels like he's "abandoning her". She throws tantrums and is willing to fight back if it means getting him to pay attention to her. He relents most of the time, because he loves seeing her desperate for him and it reassures him that she'll never leave him. He still has outbursts of jealousy, tho.

"What the fuck were you doing talking to him? You really believed he'll love you, that he'll take you out on dates and that bullshit? Don't make me laugh, only I can love someone as wrecked as you"

"Nobody is gonna treat you better than me. Nobody is gonna know you like I do, ever. You don't need anyone else but me. Why would you want other boys when I'm right here?"

It's not hard for Haru to convince her that it's normal for siblings to cuddle and even shower together. She doesn't know anything else, she has no one to tell her it's wrong. When puberty hits him and he starts to experience certain needs, there's only one female he's close enough to imagine having that sort of intimacy with. In his mind, it makes perfect sense. Senju is the only girl in his life, he knows he can touch her without problem, and besides, she fucking owes him that. After everything he's put up with for her, all the sacrifices he did and the mistreatment he endured from Takeomi, it's only fair that Senju lets him have this, right? He believes he's entitled to her in every form and sense.

Senju doesn't think much when he sneaks his hands under her shirt to feel her up, or when he watches her get dressed in creepy silence, or when he makes her sit on his lap. After all, this is what siblings do all the time right? Haruchiyo is just being affectionate in his own way. She's only taken aback when he kisses her for the first time, but she quickly relaxes because "this is what siblings do. We're just practicing, dear sister". Besides, Haru is practically the only male she has contact with (Takeomi is mostly absent and Haru makes sure she doesn't talk to other boys), so when she reaches puberty, she begins to feel sexually attracted to him. Something he notices and enjoys greatly.

"C'mon, aren't you going to let your big bro' touch you? If I don't show you how it's done, how else are you gonna learn? Big brothers do this all the time, y'know? Who better to teach you these things than me?"

"What? You're feeling shy now? I used to change your diapers and bath you for years. I know every part of your body like it's my own. Now get closer, I wanna see you"

"You should be glad to have such a good brother to help you with this. I'm doing this out of my affection for you. Yeah? You like how I'm touching you? Let me hear you then."

Their feelings for each other are messy, twisted and so complex that not even they can fully untangle them. They love each other, that much they know. Haru wants to kill her often, they know it too. Senju wishes he didn't exist, they know that too. But in the end, they also know they need each other more than anything. Not like the air they breathe, more like the smoke of the cigarettes. It's slowly killing them from the inside, but they're addicted to it. They can't exist in a world without the other.

Eventually, his undying devotion for Mikey wins and he runs away, leaving Senju behind. She never forgives him. He never forgets her. Somehow he still manages to be present in her life, if only from afar, but his control has weakened and now Senju is finally free to make friends. To have her own life separated from him. And the more she sees the world without his influence, the more she realizes just how fucked up and how wrong everything he did was. He talks to other people and finds out that kind of behaviour it's, in fact, not normal in siblings. That it's actually considered unnatural and forbidden and so incredibly disgusting. She feels asshamed and embarrassed for it, her perception of Haruchiyo finally changes to realize how he manipulated her all this time. Senju decides it's for the best to cut off contact with him, trying desesperately to bury their sins.

But at this point, he's not letting her go. Ever. It doesn't matter how hard she tries to push him away, he only pulls her back harder. Because despite all the shit that's gone down between them, he still knows her better than anyone and they still have no one else that understands them the way each other do.

And so that's how their relationship goes on through the years, with hatred and regret and love interwined. She's not allowed to move on, but neither does he. They're on opposite sides of the war, but they'll still hold unto each other like their lives depend of it (because they do) with their bloody mouths and bruised knuckles from the brutal fights. Because this wreck of a relationship is all that they have left, as twisted and painful as it is.

They'll pretend there's nothing to it, carrying on with their respective lives away from the other, but eventually, there's always a moment when their hearts beat their brains and they fall into that sick, forbidden dance once again, forgetting about the world and their responsabilities and the tragic childhood they share.

"I told you, didn't I, little sis? Nobody will understand you like I do"

"You're mine to break and care for"

[hypocrisyofandrewdobson]

I like how in that story of Dobson dealing with the drunk girls, he calls them "fucking fuckers;" how creative, says he should sue them; for WHAT?? Good luck with that. That he should call the police. Again, for WHAT? For annoying him? Yeah, I'd love to hear Dobson explain this to the police, for real. and declaring "they don't know who they're messing with!" Yes, they did. They knew they were dealing with a miserable little man which is why they were taunting him. You can still argue that's wrong, but again, I think they just knew what kind of person he was. Also yet he shows his superiority by bitching about it on his blog lol. It also says a lot about Dobson that he immediately becomes enraged by something like that instead of either ignoring it or playing along with it (without being harassing). I think this is also telling of how he REALLY sees women, or at least women that he is personally NOT trying to gain the approval of. He clearly thinks little of them but always remember what a great "ally" he is of theirs.

That whole Caretaker job really said a lot about Dobson than I think he ever realized, yeah. His reaction to getting teased irl really said a lot, especially when you remember he flat out said he never wanted the job and didn’t like it at all.

[justateenagegrl]

i wish i had a step father like catherine had :(

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

hi!!! i re read ur peter/gwen sick fic this morning aaa i love them ☹️💞 ur writing is so good!!

do u think u could do something similar but where gwen is the one sick and peter takes care of her? thanks !! 🤘🤘

“Peter, the sooner you leave me alone, the less likely it is for you to catch whatever I’ve got and the more likely it’ll be for me to get this studying done,” Gwen sighed, wishing her voice wouldn’t whistle and rasp so painfully; it felt like she had spent most of the day gargling rocks. Setting her pencil down, she slid a heavy, aching arm out for the thermos on the other end of her desk, only for Peter to hastily snatch it up out of her reach.

“Whoa there. Listen, I know I’m one to talk and this thermos honestly smells amazing right now but you really don’t need coffee in your condition,” he pleaded.

“It’s warm, it feels good on my throat.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not gonna help you sleep! I don’t even know why you’re still up, honestly.” In return to her exasperated, obvious gesture at her textbook, he gave her an equally obvious eye roll. “You’re the teacher’s pet—every teacher’s pet. If you told them you’re sick, I’m sure they’d give you extensions to catch up once you’ve gotten some rest.”

“I’m close, okay? I’ve only got…” Gwen wavered, blinking at the page before her as she tried to crunch the numbers. Come to think of it, how long had she spent staring blearily at this one chapter? This one page? The past few hours were becoming muddled, muted by the dull pounding in her temples. “…I-I’m close,” she mumbled at last, giving up on any estimation. “You can whisk me up in your arms like any other damsel in distress as soon as I’m done.”

Taking a swig of her coffee for himself, likely knowing he would need a boost for what lay ahead, Peter then set it aside in favor of shuffling behind Gwen’s desk chair and sliding his hands over her shoulders. Against her better judgment she leaned into his strong, safe touch, struggling to suppress a shudder when he started kneading along the base of her neck and the top of her spine. She hadn’t realized how many knots of tension she had been holding there until now that he was trying to loosen them up.

“I brought some of Aunt May’s soup,” he murmured coaxingly, hunkering down to press a few slow, soft kisses into the crown of her mussed golden hair. “That’ll be nice and warm for you too but not if you keep it waiting for much longer. After that we can get you changed, get all cozy under the covers…You’d seriously rather be studying than snuggling right now?”

Pulling heavy eyelids back open, unsure of when she had closed them, she tried to muster another protest, only for a few rough, ragged coughs to escape instead. Once those first few found traction, the rest were eager to follow, ripping the air from her lungs. The pounding in her skull spiked to a dizzy thundering, her ribs rattled for mercy and Peter’s grip tightened to offer support.

“You’re okay, shh, shh,” he cooed, worry and warmth mingling in his voice. “You’re okay, just breathe.”

Easier said than done with her sinuses swimming and her chest burning with every crackly gasp. Curling in on herself, reflexive tears burning her eyes, she realized then that the answer to his question was a resounding no. She didn’t want to be here. Her back and butt were sore from staying slumped in this chair for so long. She was cold and clammy and congested and she would much rather be buried under her blankets right now. The only distress this damsel had to be in was that which she was bringing on herself. It could end at any time, if she could only bring herself to take the out her boyfriend was offering.

Whatever results she managed to cobble together definitely weren’t going to be her best work if she kept going now. As Peter had so kindly pointed out, she was top of her class; she had higher standards than this.

“…S-Soup sounds pretty good right now,” she admitted at last in a wet, weary sigh. She didn’t have to glance back at him to sense how he lit up at the words.

“Really? You’re actually gonna—Right! Yes, yes, okay! Coming right up,” he promised with another kiss to her head; although it was brief, she could feel the relief in his smile against her scalp before he bounded across the room to fish through his pack for the Tupperware, as well as a few other essentials. “Okay, we got soup, decongestants, cough syrup, painkillers, cold packs, this heating pad—”

“Since when do you come so prepared?” she sniffled, earning a laugh that somehow managed to be sheepish and sly simultaneously.

“I figured I’d need a pharmacy’s worth of weapons! Pretty sure I’ve convinced supervillains to surrender faster than a stubborn Stacy!”

[franziskas-record-store]

Some of my favorite first listens of the year thus far:

Sound and Shadows - Ralph Towner

The Noisiest Guys on the Planet - Jana Winderen

The Blue Notebooks - Max Richter

My Favorite Things - John Coltrane

An empty bliss beyond this world - The Caretaker

Pieces of a Man - Gil Scott-Heron

Sweet Tooth - Mali Obomsawin

Space is the Place - Sun Ra

Insignificance - Jim O'Rourke

Outer Wilds: Live From Timber Hearth - Andrew Prahlow

XO - Elliot Smith

The Bootleg Series, Vol. 14: More Blood, More Tracks - Bob Dylan

[allfortheslay25]

My sister wanted me to draw Siren Neil’s tongue

Andrew feeds Neil often since he thinks Neil would be a horrible hunter (Neil’s so skinny it’s only logical he can’t feed himself) but Neil is a very good hunter. He just doesn’t eat much since it brings attention

When sirens hunt, they do it far from home since all the blood will attract many kinds of predators. But this makes them vulnerable. Many solitary sirens die because of this. Neil rarely eats so he won’t bring danger his way.

Mermaids usually eat meat above surface. They also sometimes make meals above surface because eating it raw and alone is boring. Andrew doesn’t always care and will eat wherever he feels comfortable. Andrew also is the one who usually provides meals for his pod (the monsters) since he’s at the top of their hierarchy system. Not all mermaids work this way, sometimes those at the bottom of the pyramid do all the hunting and provide for those at the top. But Andrew’s got that protective and caretaker instinct to hunt and provide for his family.

When Neil starts slowly forming a bond with Andrew, Andrew is always offering him food. It works that Andrew also eats twice his body weight and carries around and hides extra fish.

[coffinclownery]

It’s already insidious enough when Andrew is obviously using Julia in place of Ashley, but here’s another layer:

“My very own piece of work.”

Not only is Andrew Ashley’s older brother, he was her caretaker. He raised her more than their parents ever did. So it’s not just love in the romantic and brotherly sense, which is already concerning enough, but in the parental sense as well. Ashley is his creation, who he loves but can never take responsibility for.

It puts into perspective how Andrew won’t admit it was Ashley sending the voicemails. He’s like one of those parents who knows their kid is trouble but will fight for them tooth and nail, denying they could possibly do anything wrong.

There was already numerous layers of fucked up in this cake but they just can’t help but add even more layers to it!

[emry-stars-art]

I promised some Abram comfort this month 🤲 there’s a stretch of time in Abram’s recovery that Day is his primary caretaker and Andrew isn’t allowed to do much, but that doesn’t change the fact that Abram sleeps better with a grounding weighted blanket; Kevin, in this case, is a very convenient brother figure.

Find the royal au masterpost here 💕

Sketches/lines under the cut

[chekhovs-nailgun]

and so there i am, the caretaker of sin to your abandoned and malignant heart

andrew x ashley / coffincest board because i saw somebody else make one and it reminded me how much fun i have making them. :) antis dni please

[hypocrisyofandrewdobson]

Honestly I don't know that much about US politics, just what I see on the internet. But I feel like if Dobson (and MovieBob) had some good looking, rightwing chick hit on them (which will never happen in a trillion years but say it happens in an alternate dimension), they'll retract all the shit talk they did about the Right and start praising Trump and I can see Dobbie Bear trade his stupid fedora for a stupid MAGA cap. Probably even start openly talking shit about minorities and other ethnicities, especially the Japanese which he despised a lot for some reason. Which is also fucking hypocritical because Nintendo is from Japan.

Maybe pre-2016, I’d say you’re right. But that year broke a lot of people in a lot of weird ways, and made some people who were already broken way worse. Dobson’s has made his seething hatred of anything not hard-left very apparent, so I think a right wing girl flirting with him would get him to not say anything in person(but enjoy the attention), only to go off on some huge screaming rant online about how he was harassed by an evil redneck woman or something. One only has to look at the drunk girls confrontation during his “caretaker job” to see that.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

A theory about Harry thinking he can be co-king -

I think it's also because fundamentally Harry is pathologically codependent. Even a child he didn't have interests of his own. He just liked to be led into whatever by whoever - his nanny, his RPO, his mother, his brother. They organized activities for him that they thought would be fun for a kid and he did those. That was his life.

Even books written by people about Diana or Charles early days (I am basicay basing this on Wendy Berry's Housekeepers Diary and the book by Ken Wharf) say that Harry wasn't exactly an independent kid, he just did stuff that others did.

He liked polo and horses because that was his father's passion, so it was something they both did over. Army/military/uniforms was Williams obsession as a kid so it became Harry's. Then at school it was Rugby because that's what the rowdy boys did. It was never cricket or swimming or tennis or running etc. He just goes with whatever option is out forward for him.

His army career was presented to him. He didn't even think of doing something after school. Didn't think of college either. But did take a gap year like William and went to Africa just like William. Joined the military because William was already in it, so might as well just do that. All his interests were what William was already doing.

His patronages were all arranged around that for his by someone else, and his has still not ventured out of that curated bubble after all these years. Still doesn't, even though he now needs more money and a more versatile profile.

Harry cannot think for himself. Never did as child. So his parents or caretakers didn't have to do much for him other than hold his hand and let him tag along.

All the times he was expected to or even encouraged, as a child to develpy an independent personality, he just say in a corner a smoked up or attended parties. When it came to disciplining him, it was just easier to tell him to go do whatever William was doing, because how else would you get a petulant boy to do anything if he doesn't want to?

Now Harry is rudderless but his conditioniing tells him his purpose is whatever Williams purpose is. Not necessarily because he thinks they are equal, but because Harry always followed Williams lead.

Meghan just came along, saw all that, and told him he could do it so much better. It's not like she can get him to do anything else. He doesn't know how, and will never. William is his North Star.

The only definition of work in Harry's mind is whatever William is doing.

Old ask from March 3rd

I do think Harry has some serious co-dependency issues, but I’m not sure it’s pathological to this extent, nor is it with William nowadays.

I disagree that Harry was pushed into all of this because William was. Harry was pushed into all of this because that’s the royal family lifestyle. All the princes serve in the military (or they try to, in Edward’s case) and all the princes play sport (Charles and his family played polo; Andrew golfs; Edward plays tennis).

And the issue there is that Harry was competitive with William. He wanted either the same that William got or better than William got. We can argue till the cows come home whether that was nature vs nurture, but the key thing here is that it’s something Diana was fully aware of and concerned by:

Diana was concerned everyone was going to think he was 'thick' as he didn't have any thirst for knowledge and was not interested in sitting down with a book. He always felt the need to compete in everything, especially with his brother.

- Ingrid Seward, My Mother and I

(Yes, I know, it’s Ingrid Seward but I find her to be pretty consistent when it comes to Diana. Of course, YMMV.)

So is it co-dependency? Not in this case. Yes, Harry has issues with co-dependency, but to the person he’s with and we know that because his personality, his style, and his interests change based on who he’s spending time with. Harry hasn’t been “with” William since about 2015-ish when the then-Cambridges moved to Norfolk and Harry stayed in London.

William is the North Star but not because Harry is rudderless, but because Harry is competitive and doesn’t want to be second-best. After all, this is a kid who used to demand his mother call him her only baby. That’s not co-dependency. It’s a one-sided competition that William isn’t even playing in — just like Meghan has an identical one-sided competition with Kate.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

What about a sick fic with Peter 3 where Gwen takes care of him? Like he shows up at her window for a visit and she notices how sick he is or something?

Gwen should have realized something was off within the first few minutes of Peter’s arrival—possibly within the first few moments. The faint tapping of his fingers against her window didn’t hold its usual chipper beat and his posture was more than a little off. He was slumped against the sill, rather than perched in preparation to climb on in. Regardless, he made an effort to perk himself up a little when she smiled at him; she couldn’t make out his expression behind the mask, of course, but his head tilted like he was smiling too.

“Why, if it isn’t Peter Pan,” she teased as she unlocked the window, “skulking around outside my window not at all creepily, ready to whisk me away on some fantastical adventure or another that nobody else would believe. Am I right?”

She hoped so. The takeout he had gotten for their last dinner date wasn’t anything to write home about but the view, tucked into his side under a blanket on a rooftop, looking down on the lights below—that was magical. She could almost pretend it had been England, her dream destination.

Peter’s palm was on the pane suddenly, preventing her from opening it any further. “Sorry. Not this time, Gwendy Darling,” he chuckled faintly, halfheartedly. “I thought tonight we could…y’know, still see each other but j-just like this, on opposite sides of the window. Like a…personal bubble thing.”

Gwen snorted, confused and a little incredulous. “I didn’t think personal bubbles were a thing in your book after we—” Peter cut her off then, though unintentionally, a breakout of barking coughs abruptly knocking his head against the window frame. He didn’t bother to lift it, letting out an exhausted, rattling sigh.

“Nngh…s-so, uh…” He sniffled thickly, stifled another cough. “…Y’know how spiders are expert bug catchers?”

Gwen’s lips thinned in realization. “Mhmm. Sounds like you caught a big one.” She had two options now: chide him for swinging through the city in this condition and probably get some ridiculously heroic, self-sacrificial (heart-of-gold, dorky, adorable) comment in return or skip straight to what needed to be done. She went for the latter, pushing the window all the way open. Peter reeled back from the sudden movement, slightly disoriented.

“What’re you…? Hang on, I don’t wanna get you sick too, I-I only came to say hi real quick and then…”

“Look, Mom’s out to dinner with some friends, I’ve got the place to myself and you already came this far. What kind of concerned citizen would I be if I left a sad, sick Spider-Man out in the cold?”

Though her quip was lighthearted, the intensity of his shivering and the buckling of his legs as she helped him inside honestly were concerning. Unwilling to contaminate her bed, he swerved precariously to collapse into her newly acquired beanbag chair.

Curling into a loose fetal position, he shuddered, tensed and hurriedly ducked his head down with a violent “Hhh-kchu!” Gwen flinched a little at the volume of his sneeze, even muffled through the mask, and then offered a rueful smile when she heard him groan out a wet curse.

“Let me guess. Snot all over your lenses?”

“I hate everything.” Clumsy fingers pried at his mask; it took a few tries for him to finally wrangle it off. The face underneath was disconcertingly pasty, excepting his pink, watery nose and swollen eyes. As soon as Gwen crouched, cupping his cheek for an approximation of a temperature, they fluttered closed; he couldn’t help but nuzzle wearily into her touch, pressing a chapped kiss to her palm.

“Missed you…” he rasped, barely audible.

Even now he managed to make her heart melt. “Missed you too, sweetheart,” she murmured. “You’re pretty chilly, aren’t you? Let me get you a blanket.”

“Huh? No—No, wait, d-don’t—don’t leave…”

“I’ll only be, like, six feet away, Pete. It’ll take two seconds.”

The glassy haze made his pleading eyes even more puppy-like as he pried them back open with a whine. “That’s two whole long, long, long seconds without you, though. Want you a lot more than the blanket…We can…We can huddle for warmth. T-That’s always romantic in the movies, huh? Right?”

“I could’ve made it across the room and back by now,” she pointed out wryly even as she acquiesced, situating herself on the beanbag beside him so he could rest his aching head in her lap. As soon as she started running her hand through his tousled fringe, he melted entirely. Perhaps he was more a cat than an arachnid at heart.

Then again, she mused fondly as she heard and felt his low, contented rumbling, spiders could purr too.

[imalison]

If we're talking about Andy and Andrew, I feel like

Andy was too submissive.

Masking his desires, trying to fit into the normal category, fearing the consequences, and following Leyley around like a doormat.

He was too Spineless.

Maybe that's why he doesn't want to

Associate himself with Andy.

Andy was her caretaker

Under Leyley's shadow

Andrew wants a life for himself. A stand. That maybe also brought out his calculative side cause he started using Ashley as his shield later on for every crime they committed. The blame was indirectly on her cause all he ever did his entire life was "follow her lead"

Now, let's talk about Ashley for a second

She always feels like Andrew is distancing himself from her. [Even when he's not] So when he forbid their nicknames, maybe she felt like he was getting detached.

Again, her insecurities kicked in

Throughout her life, she practically had nobody except for him

She wants him to reassure her over and over again that he'll stay no matter what because

She can not believe it herself that he sticked around after everything she put him through. It's like deep down it's so hard for her to accept that someone will ever stay with her. Which brought out her insane obsession with him.

Cause he's all she has now. He's her everything.

Quite literally. It was very clear in the vision when all the images were replaced by him at the end.

It's him who took the role of a caretaker. It's him who became her first friend. His concern was the only true concern she ever had in her life.

She wanted to hold onto it a little longer. [Forever] bottle it up

Contain it. Trap it. So it remains there. Her insecurities are always reflecting her actions. She thought Andy chose her.

Andy and Leyley them against the world. But from Andrew's pov, he wants to become his own person for once yet still remain by her side.

Them against the world as a duet instead of him being controlled by her.

If we follow the burial route, It's clear that he started feeling more confident and comfortable with the things they did together. So much so that it made Ashley question what changed in their dynamic.

Even in the sane ending, she looked so confused.

I feel like, at this point, she just needs to let go of Andy so they can bury their past selves together and start fresh, lmao

Decay ending may take the title literally, but burial could be their chance to change it into a metaphorical one.

....

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Breaking Free: Chapter 9-Fragile Steps

Pairings: AU! Mechanic Dean x Reader

Chapter Summary: Y/N struggles with depending on Dean for everything, and tries to do everything on her own.

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of injuries.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Dean had taken a leave from work to be by my side, navigating the challenges of my recovery with a quiet determination that both comforted and unsettled me.

I knew he didn't mind-he helped me up and down the stairs with a smile, cooked all meals, comforted me when the pain was too much, took me on walks, and he never complained. I was grateful, and appreciative of everything he was doing for me.

But in the days that followed, I wrestled with having such a strong dependence on him, and the feeling of guilt for him being my caretaker broke me in more ways than one.

It was not a secret that my slow recovery was eating at me, Dean always sensed my struggle, it was like he knew me better than I knew myself. He offered comforting words, long hugs, attempting to cheer me up in every way he thought of, but the feeling wore heavy on me and it broke his heart.

It had been a rough day. My injuries were getting the best of me, pain filling my body with every movement, and the chaos in my mind shouting at me.

I was laying in bed when Dean came in, a small smile spread on his face. "Let's take a little trip, I wanna bring you somewhere."

I hesitated, but seeing the hopeful look in Dean's eyes, I nodded slowly. "Okay, let's go."

Dean helped me into the car with gentle hands, making sure I was comfortable before starting the engine. The drive was quiet, the tension between us evident. I wanted to talk, to voice the whirlwind of emotions inside me, but the words stuck in my throat.

When we arrived at the lake, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm glow over the water. Dean parked the car and came around to open my door, and helped me into my wheel chair. Together, we made our way down a narrow path lined with tall grass and wildflowers until we reached a small clearing overlooking the serene lake.

"This is beautiful," I whispered, my hand reaching his as he knelt down beside me.

"I thought you might like it," Dean murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.

For a while, I forgot the weight of guilt and let myself enjoy the peace he had brought me. The cool breeze, the soothing sound of water lapping against the shore—it all eased my troubled mind, if only for a moment.

"I'm sorry," I finally whispered, breaking the silence.

Dean turned to look at me, concern engraved on his face. "For what?"

"For everything," I replied, tears welling up in my eyes. "For being a burden, for not being able to do the things we used to do together... for Andrew..."

Dean reached out, gently wiping away my tears with his thumb. "Hey, listen to me," he said firmly, his voice unwavering. "You are not a burden. Taking care of you is not a chore—it's an honour. And as for Andrew, none of that was your fault, you get that right? He's the one to blame."

I nodded and squeezed his hand tighter, trying my best to believe him, but it was hard.

"You know," Dean began softly, his gaze fixed on the twinkling stars above, "I meant what I said earlier. I love you, Y/N. More than anything."

Tears pricked at your eyes once more, but this time they were tears of gratitude and love. "I love you too, Dean," I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder. Dean wrapped his arm around me pulling me closer as we sat together in the quiet hold of the night, and I knew I might just be okay.

I could hear Dean downstairs in the kitchen humming to himself, the clinking of pots and pants creating a comforting symphony around him as he cooked us dinner.

In this moment, I wanted nothing more to be with him, to have some normalcy, to not be stuck in bed while he waits on me hand and foot. I knew that he had good intentions, but also I couldn't get used to him taking care of me, I had to do things myself.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I winced as the pain instantly shot up and down my body, but stubborn determination forced me forward. My hands held the wall as I slowly made my way to the stairs, preparing myself for the pain of going down the steps.

Each step was a battle against the ache in my leg, and my cast heavily dragged me down. I gripped the railing tightly, focusing on the goal of getting downstairs, of doing this by myself.

But my body betrayed me, my injured leg faltering underneath me, the dizziness hitting me hard. I tried to hang onto the railing but my vision went white, and I couldn't see where to grab. Suddenly, I was falling down the stairs, carshing down the remaining steps with a sickening thud that echoed through the house.

The sound tore through Dean like a lightning bolt. He dropped everything, sprinting out of the kitchen towards the sound, his heart pounding with fear.

"Oh fuck, Y/N!" His voice cracked with panic as he reached the foot of the stairs, eyes landing on my crumpled body.

I tried to get up as much as I could, but the pain and emotions were overwhelming, and I couldn't do anything but cry. He knelt beside me, his hands trembling as he assessed the situation. "Oh god, are you okay? What happened?"

I struggled to catch my breath as I tried to explain to the best of my abilities. "I... wanted to come down to see you."

Dean quickly helped me sit up, his arms wrapping around me as he carried me to the nearby couch, worry and panic filling him as he listened to the whimpers with every step.

"Why didn't you call for me?" Dean's voice was raw with emotion, eyes searching mine with desperation.

"I.. I didn't wanna bother you." I managed to gasp out as the tears streamed down my cheeks. "I thought.. I could do this one thing on my own. I just wanted to do one fucking thing by myself, instead of constantly being a burden."

His heart shattered at my words, his own tears threatening to spill over at my vulnerability. He gently wiped away my tears, his touch soft and gentle. "Sweetheart, no," he whispered brokenly, his voice filled with love and regret. "You're not a burden. You never have been. I would do anything for you, your not putting me out by letting me take care of you."

I shook my head weakly, the weight of my own flaws bearing down on me. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "I hate feeling like this, like I'm weak, like I can't do anything."

Dean's expression softened, "You are not weak," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "You are the strongest person I know. And you don't have to do everything on your own. I'm here. Let me help you."

I nodded silently, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth and reassurance of his embrace. In that moment, despite the pain and the fear, I knew that Dean was right. I wasn't alone in this struggle and I needed to put my insecurities aside for my recovery.

Dean held me close, his arms a sanctuary from the storm raging inside me. "I love you," he murmured against my hair, his voice a promise of unwavering support and endless devotion.

And as I clung to him, my heart filled with gratitude for the love that refused to give up on me, for the strength that Dean offered, and for the hope that together, we would find our way back to each other, stronger than ever before.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 10 coming soon stay tuned!

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