#i wanted to add the possible triggers here!

[teabeexo]

Would you recommend Our life? Obviously this is a pretty stupid question but I’ve done some research on it and it seems pretty good!! Is there anything specific about the fanbase or plot I should know about it before I get it? :]

Hello lovely!! Yes, I would completely recommend Our Life! Even though a lot of the fandom has only played OL:NF, the OL game that is currently only out in a demo, I personally started with OL:BA and I do not regret it! If it gives you any perspective on how badly it had me in its grasp, I had over 300+ hours by April (and I bought it November of last year). All the characters are fantastic and very real. The representation in the game is also amazing. Words cannot express how much I love this game.

in terms of fanbase, and some might disagree with me here, it’s relatively stable. Actual arguments seem to be pretty small and contained. There was a big fandom shake recently with something that went down, which was one of the biggest fandom-wide ordeals I’ve seen while being in the community. I’m in the GB Patch Games discord, and most small spats there are dissolved before it can get too bad. This is speaking completely from personal experience, but I would say most of the hostility exists around characters (because there are some characters that people love, while others hate them), but it’s nothing that can’t be brushed off. GB Patch herself has handled issues, but the fandoms opinions on how they’re handled is up in their air. By that I mean, a lot of people have varying feelings. Im sorry if this is very vague, I just want to be broad because there truly are so many opinions and it’s hard to capture them all.

My experience has been very positive overall. One of my current closest online friends was made through this fandom (via the discord)! Most individuals are very kind and respectful, and the diversity in MCs is fantastic!! If you ever need/want to talk about your MCs (or just the game in general) with someone, I’m here! I love it <33

I’d say there’s not any particular warnings for either game — especially since one is incomplete. I’m aware that the details of Cove’s parents (OL:BA) can be triggering for some, or make them uncomfortable, but it’s not fully dived into until a Step 3 DLC moment, so it’s avoidable. One of the love interests, Baxter, also has canonically bigoted parents, but we never see them and Baxter does not hold their views whatsoever. For OL step one, there’s a lot of discussion of divorce and emotion distress that comes from that, so if that’s alarming just be wary!! OL:NF is very much mostly fluff and comfort and setting up characters right now, so if you decide to the play the demo I don’t think there will be any issues there.

It’s very possible there are things I missed, so if anybody else has things to add, feel free to!

IM SO GLAD YOURE INTERESTED AHH!! If you decide to play, I’d love to hear about it! If you want me to go more in-depth on anything, let me know and I will gladly do so. Consider giving the games a shot!! Thank you!

[fallfromgrace-cas]

I've been having some funky dreams and my spouse said I should start journaling them since parts are recurring, so here we go.

TW: mentions of suicidal thoughts/actions, depressive thoughts, and threat of pregnancy loss but only briefly!

I'm pregnant currently and I know that can cause vivid dreams (this isn't my first pregnancy.) But my dream involved the cast of Superstore, but it was set in space on a space ship. Amy was the ship captain and everyone else (main cast) was there, too.

The first part of the dream involved me and other folks remodeling the commissary to be les chaotic and cleaned up and I remember really focusing on cleaning the kids corner (even though I saw so children in this dream). We were all very proud once we were done.

Then there was a big speech in this huge auditorium setting where Amy and everyone sorta decided to do what they wanted as they have been micromanaged for too long, so as per usual in the show, things go of the rails pretty quickly. People were not following safety protocols and they launched indoor fireworks and pyrotechnics for this beauty pageant that was going on and one of the fuzzy sounndproof thingies caught fire, so Amy, someone else, and I worked together to try and wrangle the people and put out the fire. The work took a toll on Amy and she grabbed her briefcase and walked up this huge wooden staircase like in the movie, Titanic.

Now the perspective of the dream shifted to where I was now Amy. I heard people whispering and mentioning that I looked awful and some woman said "it's her awful mental health." I remember feeling really bummed as Amy and really depressed. I kept walking up the stairs and Jonah from Superstore was following close behind because he knew something was off. I/Amy made it up to the top of the stairs and I just jumped off this very tall stairs. Jonah grabbed my hand right as I was beginning to fall, but we both fell. I remember feeling the weight of Jonah's hand and the weightlessness you feel when you're falling. Then as I/we hit the ground, her perspective went black.

Then it shifted back to my perspective. I ran up from the back of the shop to the middle by the stairs and saw the commotion. Amy was not there, but Jonah was. I asked him what happened and he was banged up and his face was stricken with tears and I remember looking into his glassy, red, tear-filled eyes where he said that Amy jumped and "killed her baby."

Note: this along with the jump are what stuck with me the most and I've been thinking about it all day. :(

We saw an ambulance arrive to pick up Amy as she survived her jump and it seemed that the baby was okay! But as this was happening, the dream shifted to a weird burglary/heist sorta thing where a group of 4 space pirates decided to rob the ship and try to steal Amy's suitcase because it had all the ship's confidential and financial info in it. But myself along with a kitchen chef Home Aloned these pirates and saved our information, so yay! And Amy made a full recovery while also now speaking Spanish and English? That's how everyone knew she was okay?

THEN the dream made an even more dramatic shift and ended with Amy and Jonah getting married and all of us having to do a Superstore college test, but Amy came back in her wedding dress and all after leaving the reception saying that we didn't have to do the test and we could go home.

Then my toddler woke me up for the day. HOW BONKERS IS THIS? What in the world is bothering me?

[yamachizuu]

Why does it hurt.

[usersanon]

Please be aware of the user @/saintsugu also known as Ezra.

Past pseudonyms include (but are not limited to: @/aces_high

I never thought that I would have to create a post like this. In my near 12 years on the internet, I never thought I would have to write down the words I am about to type, especially about a fellow fanfic creator, one I used to enjoy before I found out about the type of person he really is. I apologise for the long post, however I want to make sure I am as thorough as possible so I can bring this person to justice.

Before opening the read more/ continuing with this post, please read the trigger warnings. This will deal with heavy topics, ones that make me sick to my stomach. I apologise for all of the censoring in this post as well.

TW: P*DOPHILIA, UNDER*GE, SEXUALIZATION OF EDS AND SH

I would just like to start off by saying how difficult this post is for me to write. I have had to take multiple breaks while typing this out. I have felt disgusted since I first saw the posts on his twitter. Like I need to take a shower and scrub myself clean, however, at the same time I feel like I cannot sit idly by while Ezra still has a platform.

The posts I have seen on his twitter, what he actively endorses is just disgusting and predatory in nature. I have done my best to censor them so as to not continue the spread of such material. As of the time of this post, his twitter is still public.

HIS TWITTER (X) IS CURRENTLY UNDER THE NAME @/ezr_ace

First, I’ll give evidence I have to prove that the twitter account stated above is in fact his. I was wary at first as well, however, I believe this evidence in fact proves that beyond reasonable doubt that the account is his.

The obvious reasoning is as follows: Ezra goes by the pseudonym Ezra currently, and has gone by the pseudonym Ace in the past. Both the twitter account and his tumblr state that he is 21. Both twitter and tumblr themes are the same in nature, featuring manga panels of Suguru edited in the same way.

If you’re familiar with Ezra at all, you would know that they are very close with another user, Flora, also known as @/fyogasm. Previously known as @/pussydrunkfyodor on tumblr. When going through the followers of this twitter account, I noticed someone by the name of Flora following him (one of about 34 followers), with the user @/floratumblr. This account had their tumblr linked in the bio of the profile, and it led straight to Flora’s tumblr. Screen recording is posted below:

UPDATE: since Ezra has been called out, Flora has unfollowed Ezra’s Twitter as well as deleted her account. I can only assume it is to try and dodge the backlash of being associated with him. Here are screenshots proving they are moots/ interacting with each other.

Note: I do not know what this means for the content of Flora’s character. All I can say for certain is that she is close friends with him (to the point they have each others numbers), and that she follows his Twitter. I did not dive deep into her Twitter before she deleted it. But I can say that I do believe she knew the content he was posting about, otherwise she wouldn’t have deleted her Twitter the second he was called out while remaining mutuals with him on tumblr.

UPDATE 1/19/24 1:50 pm: Since creating this post, Flora has reached out and stated that they have broken all contact with Ezra. They state that they are not frequently on twitter, and was completely unaware of the type of content he was posting on the account. They state that the content found on the account has made them feel sick and that they are no longer friends anymore.

Back to the main point, this only adds to the similarities listed above. A close mutual that he has been seen actively talking to on his tumblr also follows him on twitter, endorsing his behavior. This alone was too much for me to ignore. However, one final factor came into play that solidifies that user ezr_ace and user saintsugu are the same Ezra.

He not only posted to his tumblr about hateful anon messages, but also his twitter at the same time. Right after the messages were sent, he tweeted the following, as well as posted the following messages on his tumblr. Screenshots with time stamps posted below:

This for me, confirms that the two accounts are the same. There are simply too many coincidences for me to ignore. I feel that there is no argument about the validity of the accounts, as there are just too many similarities to ignore. Now, I can delve into what the post is really about. The content of the Twitter account.

P*DOPHILLIC ACTIONS AND UNDRE*GE CONTENT.

To put it simply, I was horrified when I first opened the profile to be greeted with Shotacon artwork. Full on artwork of an adult Toji a*saulting a child Gojo. In this artwork, Gojo looks as if he can be no older than 10. Most of the image is censored for obvious reasons, however, part of the screenshot appears in the video above as well. Proving that it cannot have been doctored in any way.

As you can see, the post is tagged with tw sh*ta. For anyone unaware, the definition of Sh*ta is as follows: “Sh*ta is a term used in manga and anime fandoms to indicate sex involving an under*ge boy.” (Fanlore.org) Aka, CP.

It is disgusting to see someone who I once enjoyed, once trusted, interact with literal cp. Drawing or not, the effect of it is still massive. Viewing children (ANYONE UNDER*GE) in a sexual nature is harmful to everyone. It breaches past dark content into something horrible. Something dangerous.

I felt sick seeing someone be as brazen as to repost a picture of a child being a*saulted. To get off on it. It is p*dophilic. That is the only way it can be put.

Further on this, he has written smut of, in his words, “not necessarily under*ge” Suguru in highschool. There is a whole thread on it on his profile, however, I will not be showing it here. The screenshot below describes the nature of the whole post from his own words.

When I first read “not necessarily under*ge”, my first and only question was literally, what the fuck does that mean? Either he is under*ge or not. There is not some fuzzy grey area coating the world between adults and children.

But sure, give him the benefit of the doubt. That does not excuse him liking multiple posts tagged with under*ge content. The most recent being less than an hour ago. Posts censored to the best of my ability below.

These posts all point to the same thing. The disgusting, undeniable truth that this man is attracted to under*ge content. Content depicting minors in sexual scenarios. Content that no member of society should ever consume. He is a p*dophile. For viewing this content of his own accord. For liking it, for reblogging it. For creating it on his own. He is a disgusting person.

FOLLOWING MINORS.

Him interacting with content like that above, consuming it in any capacity at all makes him unsafe to be around. For anyone. Especially minors.

Even though his blog is 18+, even though he preaches that minors should stay away from his blog. He still found himself following a 16 year old. Becoming mutuals with them. The fact this person is 16 is clearly displayed on their blog as well (in their pinned post).

Screenshots shown below. The individual’s user is censored out as, once again, they are a minor and I don’t feel they should have to be wrapped up in this mess.

Once again, Ezra is someone who preaches about minors staying out of adult spaces. Multiple times he has complained on his blog about minors following him and having to block them. You would think he does the same and would be more careful about curating his online spaces, however it he fails to do that.

I don’t believe this can be boiled down to a simple case of missing the age in their bio— this user has their age in their pinned post, as well as their about me. Along with the sexualisation of minors prevalent on his Twitter, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to know that he is following a minor in any capacity. I’m sure it would make anyone.

SEXUALIZING EDS AND SH.

To end the laundry list of posts on his twitter, we have him writing smut glorifying eds, as well as liking posts depicting sh in a sexual light. As always, screenshots are shown below, censored to the best of my ability.

In the post listed above, Suguru is described in a way that is hard to stomach. While it is not nearly as bad as everything else stated above, I feel it is still necessary to include, especially because in this pairing he has often described and implied Suguru to be a minor. There is a line and he has crossed it several times, this is just another example of such. Serving as the cherry on top to further demonstrate his mindset.

Dark content and discussion of these subjects in fiction are not the problem. The disturbing part of this is that Ezra often uses these tropes within his min*r/adult sexual fantasies, and when paired with the sh*ta and under*ge content, leaves a very poor taste in the mouth. It comes across as not only a gross f*tishization, but a gross f*tishization of taking advantage of a minor that way.

A DISCUSSION ON THE LIMITS OF DARK CONTENT.

In this section, I feel that it is important to touch on how dark content plays into all of this. I’d like to expressly state that this is NOT a condemnation of dark content or its consumption.

Dark fiction and dark content are a fine line. It’s a fantastic tool for exploring taboos and emotions or experiences that aren’t often talked about openly. DC creates what is essentially a safe space for exploring things that are not typically done or seen in the real world, with the knowledge that writing or engaging with it does not necessarily mean condoning it. That being said, this callout post is NOT about being anti-dc. Dark content is a literary or artistic tool. Keeping all of this in mind, to actively engage with sh*ta content in which a character is depicted sexually not only as a minor, but as a child, and to be sexually aroused by that image is the definition of p*dophilia. Writing or drawing children and engaging with that content in a sexual capacity is p*dophilia and at the very least, has p*dophilic tendencies. This is not dark content, this is p*dophilia.

It is one thing to write or create dark fiction between adults for the purpose of gratification or exploration of social dynamics and it is entirely another to engage with art of a child engaging in sexual acts with an adult for (seemingly) the intent purpose of sexual gratification. Everyone draws their own line, but it is also important to acknowledge that there are some depictions of taboo subjects that border (if not fully step-into) harmful, p*dophilic content that perpetuates behavior and mental tendencies that truly are dangerous.

To engage with a drawing of a child and a full grown adult in sexual acts for the purpose of sexual gratification is incredibly fucked up. And the fact that minor and adult p*rnography are not just common, but dominating Ezra's twitter page, should be an absolute red flag. It’s okay to acknowledge that dark content is a medium for fiction while also acknowledging that there are some ways of engaging with it that are harmful, especially when it is so glaringly obvious that the content is between a child and an adult (the art I am talking about specifically really is a child. I don’t urge anyone to look at it, but it is gojo depicted as a child of maybe 8 - 10 years old. I’m not using the term child as an umbrella term for minors here).

The problem, stated very plainly, is that the post/s he is engaging with are sexual depictions of a child with the purpose of sexual gratification. That’s the point here. It’s not the dark content, but rather that he is retweeting posts depicting a child of about 8-10 engaged in sexual acts and created for the purpose of sexual gratification.

Once again, this is not a condemnation of dark content. Dark content can be used in so many valuable ways— facing trauma, dealing with taboo subjects, exploring the literary world in a safe and healthy way. As someone who actively consumes dark content, I will be the first to tell you this. However there should always be limits to the types of content produced. Gaining any kind of gratification from looking at a child being a*saulted is disgusting. It is p*dophillic. Especially when he actively engages with minors on his platform.

This is not a conversation of morals— which side is right and wrong. But rather a conversation about the safety of children. This is not a conversation about ageing up as that is not what he is doing. The characters being depicted here are not being aged up, rather are being depicted as minors, or literal children being used for the sexual gratification of adults.

The issue here is a p*dophile. Not dark content. Not anything else.

CONCLUSION.

I’ll be honest, post was extremely hard for me to create. Discovering that someone I once thought was close to me is this kind of person feels disgusting and abhorrent. I honestly wish I never had the displeasure of meeting them in the first place.

Hopefully, by the end of this post you are able to see the kind of person Ezra really is. I could not be silent about this. I knew that the moment all I found all of this out. This post has been very difficult for me to write, but I hope by the end of it some good will come. Some people will be able to avoid interacting with this man.

I believe Ezra needs professional help, and truly hope that he is able to get it some day soon.

Please be careful with who you interact with on the Internet. Adults and minors alike, there are predators everywhere. Please try your best to stay safe in your own online spaces. All of the love in my heart goes out to anyone who has survived child expl*itation. I hope for nothing but the best for you in the future.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this post. I know it is long and triggering for most people. I hope you all have wonderful days and try your best to take care of yourself.

Listed below are some important numbers I would like to bring awareness to before this post is over.

National Child Ab*se Hotline (USA): 1-800-422-4453

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (USA): 1-800-843-5678

The National Sexual A*sault Hotline (USA): 1-800-656-4673

Childline (UK): 0800-1111

International Child Helpline: 116-111

TLDR: Ezra has a Twitter account where he retweeted artwork of a child gojo being a*saulted by an adult toji. He liked as well as created posts depicting under*ge characters (literally tagged with ‘under*ge’). All while being mutuals with a 16 year old on tumblr.

Tags used to try and spread awareness. I tried to mostly include fandoms that he is in.

UPDATE: lmfao, he has since deleted the retweet of sh*ta gojo after he was called out. Literally proving that it was him.

[clairewritesandrambles]

Currently watching Twisters with headphones and subtitles (as it should be experienced). If you had a hard time hearing some of the quieter dialogue like me, here is a list of little details I didn't notice the first time:

Scott's driver tells to Boone to blow him when the Tornado Wranglers arrive at the first gas station.

Ben telling Tyler to keep his eyes on the road when he is staring at Kate as she and Javi pass them.

As Boone is hanging out the window loading rockets, he sings 'Dead End Road' by Jellyroll and then when the camera pans out he yells "SING IT BEN!" (Honestly this rewatch caught a lot of background dialogue for him, made me love Boone even more).

The cause of the broken trigger during the second tornado is melted chocolate and Tyler is lecturing Boone about eating chocolate in the truck.

In the background after the Stillwater tornado you can see the StormPAR guys digging the truck out of the wreck of the motel. (Still find it hilarious that it survived, considering we see a - slightly smaller - truck get sucked straight into the tornado in the same area).

Scott 100% calls Riggs his uncle. I already was pretty sure that was what he said, but subtitles confirmed it.

You can barely hear the dialogue, but the entire time during the EF5 that hits El Reno Scott is the one talking in the truck with Javi. It's all super quiet because of the music and sound of the tornado, but throughout the entire thing it is Scott who is showing fear and Javi is the calmer one (while still being realistic for the scene). I think it just adds an interesting take on how calm he is later and wanting to go back to the tornado. Maybe a bit of a pride thing?

Not so much something that I *just* noticed, but I find the inconsistency with Tyler's truck damage at the end hilarious. The thing just got rolled by an EF5 and a few days later (StormPAR truck is still covered in mud, so it can't be a big time gap) it seems fine at the airport. I can totally see him being the type of guy who would absolutely run it to the mechanic as soon as possible, that is HIS BABY.

This has been Live Watching with Claire.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back to work but still hurting.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 

The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 

You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 

The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 

“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 

“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 

He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 

“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 

You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 

You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 

“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  

“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 

“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 

“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 

“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 

“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 

“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 

“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 

“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 

“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 

“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 

“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 

You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 

“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  

“Sure,” you agree thinly. 

You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 

He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 

“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 

“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 

Me neither, you think. 

“Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 

“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 

“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 

“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 

“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 

You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 

“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  

It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 

He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 

💗

You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 

You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 

“Almost done?” He asks. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 

“Washed up?” He echoes. 

“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 

“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 

He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 

“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 

He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 

“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 

You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You should come...” he mumbles. 

“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You have nowhere to go. 

He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 

“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 

You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 

His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 

He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 

The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 

You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 

You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 

You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 

The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 

“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 

“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 

He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 

“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 

“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 

“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 

“Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 

You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 

You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 

“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 

You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 

“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  

His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 

“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 

You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 

“You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.” 

[mcntsee]

— ★fic recs 'twenty four

Hi! This is a masterlist for all my fic recs. This list will continue to update as I read and find more things to add. Credits go to the respective authors!

↳ Please make sure to check out the warning on each fic. Some of them contain stuff that might be triggering for some readers!

keys;

🫐 — angst

☁️ — fluff

🎧 — nsfw

spencer reid recs;

— ★ series;

↳ trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: the one time the bau needs you + the four times you need them.

↳ twisted by @dreamwritesimagines [completed] 🫐☁️

summary: no one can outrun their past.

↳ pierced by @rynbutt [completed] ☁️🎧

summary: moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

↳ american teenager by @lanascinnamongirls [ongoing] ☁️🫐

summary: all it took was one case. one case and you were back in your small town in your home state of missouri.

↳ say that you love me by @none-of-your-bullshit [completed] 🫐☁️🎧

summary: what happens when an ex cia operative survives an attempted murder and is plucked straight out of georgetown by david rossi?

↳ do you believe me now by @nereidprinc3ss 🎧

— ★ stand alone:

↳ forgiven by @reiding-writing 🫐☁️

summary: you lied to him with good intentions, but when he finds out the truth he says something detrimental in the heat of the moment. After weeks of radio silence any chance of reconciliation is almost lost after you get critically injured in the field.

kaz brekker recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ three taps by @happyyyandcrazyyy 🫐☁️

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

↳ dive into the waves below by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: pekka rollins's reign is over and it's time for the new king to take his place (or kaz settles into his new office and his beaten face needs some tending to)

↳ alright by @liberty-barnes 🫐☁️

summary: you’ve been flirting with kaz ever since you started working as his bartender. systematic rejection gets tiring after a while, but sometimes all you need is a good chat and a large bottle of vodka.

↳ bloody hands by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: kaz never feels the need to explain his entire plan. he knows that, whatever happens, it will inevitably go according to plan. but when his plan goes wrong and y/n is injured, kaz is suddenly forced to comprehend with the skeletally hand of death once again.

↳ initials by @triptuckers ☁️

summary: for as long as the crows can remember, you’ve worn a ring with initials on it, and they’ve been trying to figure out what they stand for ever since

↳ love story by @luna-writes-stuff ☁️

summary: kaz hasn’t known life without you at his side. he doesn’t see reason for you to abandon him any time soon and he isn’t planning on letting you go either.

↳ what do you want from me? by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

↳ this is what happens by @fishley 🫐

summary: a look into the journey of kaz losing another person he loves and how it not only affects himslef, but everyone around him.

↳ dark days by @rubysunnday 🫐☁️

summary: mr and mrs rietveld. a locked vault and approximately ten minutes of air left. what could possibly go wrong.

↳ his star by @alpurrtwhizkersss 🫐☁️

summary: kaz saves reader from drowning

↳ dust and rubble by @writing-havoc 🫐☁️

summary: a plan goes wrong. you get injured. kaz tries to help-

↳ pocket watch by @writing-havoc ☁️

summary: after years of patient progression on his phobia, kaz finds the opportunity to reciprocate

↳ call me what you like by @sophierequests ☁️

summary: kaz and the reader have been married for quite some years now, unbeknownst to their friends. but what if a slip up causes this shared secret to come to the surface?

↳ sweetheart by @bloodwrittenballad ☁️

summary: kaz's reaction to you calling him sweetheart

↳ the way of the water by @bubbles-for-all-of-us 🫐☁️

summary: reader is a tidemaker and during a heist kaz falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack

simon "ghost" riley recs;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ alive by @criminalamnesia 🫐

summary: simon loses you

↳ phantom touch by @ghostheartfelt 🫐☁️

summary: you and the 141 are deployed to austria with the intel of a drug boss known as rolmuth who is harboring romanian soldiers to the east coast to smuggle illegal mercenary personnel into america. what happens when a rapid snowstorm picks up and you are separated from the others then further captured and interrogated alongside your lieutenant?

alastor;

— ★ series;

↳ a doe in fall by @hazelfoureyes [ongoing] 🎧

summary: a burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. the chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

↳ painted smile by @worldofkuro [ongoing]🫐☁️

summary: you couldn't wait to meet new friends. what you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

↳ deer dolly by @ohproserpine ☁️🫐

summary: “wife?!” angel dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “freaky face is married?”

↳ a misconduct of love by @hurthermore [ongoing] 🫐(☁️)

summary: control was something you always severely lacked in. so when a radio host enters your life, and seems to yearn to not only posses you, but for you to posses him in turn, you indulge in a love affair with the man your husband introduced you to.

— ★ stand alone:

nothing here yet…

hobbie brown;

— ★ series;

nothing here yet…

— ★ stand alone:

↳ where's my love by @autumn-hiraeth 🫐

summary: hobie's cannon event

[linnienin]

🦋 A s t e r o i d ⁕ S i r e n e ⁕(1009) 🦋 i n ⁕ t h e ⁕ h o u s e s

How they seduce you, and how you can make them FAIL THEIR PLAN 😈

Hello gorgeous mermaids ✨🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

I hope you're doing well 🌸

I finally wrote the "Sirene in the houses" post! And added a little treat to reward you for your patience 👀

Enjoy 🦋

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

Disclaimer: These are my PERSONAL THOUGHTS on an asteroid we know very little about, i am researching it and trying to understand it to the best of my abilities. Take what resonates

Disclaimer 2: This post is for entertainment purposes mostly, don't use these methods at home kids 💖

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ I n t e r p r e t a t i o n ⁕ g u i d e :

The "How to make them fail their plan" paragraphs were formed using the theory "opposites attracts".

I tried to decipher every Sirene in the houses's possible behaviour and how to strike back using the unknown (to them) force of the energy from the opposite house.

Remember, this is MY THEORY and this post is meant to entertain and add some useful infos, like the Celebs examples for each house...yep, curious of knowing who they are? 👀

Keep reading 🦋

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 1ST HOUSE : Masters at knowing how to use their body. Naturally mesmerizing, they'll use their mannerism, their seductive and entrancing aura and expressions to get you do what they want. Usually these natives don't even need to speak a word to capture you, their confidence and self-assurance makes them appear as the ultimate trophy everyone wants. This placement can trigger other people's deepest insecurities... "do i have what it takes to win them?". Needless to say, Sirene in 1H individuals have seen it all, all the clownery and the ludicrous attempts from others to get them, while they stand in their confidence, looking at them making them think they catched their attention. But these natives, they're not as impossible to break as them make it seems... (they have been over-sexualised and judged on their appeareance for a long time, and want someone that goes beyond their looks, a partner in crime, someone that is serious in their approach and know how to share, instead of keeping everything for themselves)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you notice them (i mean, it's impossible not to) but you consider them as normal people like everyone else in the room. They'll wonder why you don't get showy and greedy over them, and you'll spark their curiosity, they'll feel a sense of tranquility in looking at you being social with others and treat people with good manners. Because they've seen extremes, your balanced persona will make them feel it safe to approach you.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 1H: Eva Green, Debra Paget, Bella Hadid, Angelina Jolie, Grace Kelly, Selena Gomez, Anne Hathaway, Zoe Kravitz, Grace Jones, Elvis Presley, Jennifer Lawrence

Click HERE to see an exclusive post on Sirene in 1H

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 2ND HOUSE: Expensive lovers of sensations. They will attract them using bad or good ways, and because they know these sensations way too well, they also will set a trap for others making those people fall for them with their sensational methods. They will seduce you with their looks, touch, smell, voice and the taste of their kiss (or well, they could prepare you a sensational meal too hehhe). As soon as your 5 senses are triggered you'll only want more. These people use the human's carnal sin as their bait, they know perfectly how much to give to receive 10x more from their prey. They could even seduce you by showing how much money they have or their expensive possessions. Or could seduce to gain those material needs. (can have self-worth insecurities, so they'll persuade people sometimes only to get validation from them and to feel a sense of victory from winning their prey, so they can feel better about themselves)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them control of yourself, especially control of your vulnerable side. They will not know how to get you if you show no problem in resisting their seductive attempts, they will instead be confused by you and take them back to avoid looking stupid (again, they can suffer from self-worth image so they'll feel riddiculous and they'll go find another prey to fill their self-esteem with), but if you want to reverse the situation, open up to them and make them feel like they're the only one worthy of knowing your vulnerable side, they'll love it and they'll fall for it.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 2H: Beyonce, Lily Rose Depp, Michelle Pfeiffer, Naomi Campbell, Princess Diana

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 3RD HOUSE: "Welcome tributes to the 29372992 edition of Mind Games" ,and may the odds be in your favour because 3H Sirene natives have always won it. Sneaky, Clever, smart asses, these natives knows how to get to It quickly: a little smirk, the right word, a playful touch, and they've already hijacked your brain circuit. They love to confuse you with their double face game, looking at your pathetic and obvious reactions. You're going to feel like you're their partner in crime, their special someone, but all their pretty words, their quotes from your favourite poetry book, they ain't for nothing...their eyes are stuck on that prize, and you're just in their way. These natives love cars and driving. Could seduce you to buy them a car, give them a ride, or ride them on it 🙊. They could manipulate your siblings to get to you (and even get them both sistah and brothah). Spread rumors like it's nothing and be so good at hiding their face behind an innocent persona.They're quick and witty, it's extremely difficult to caught them slip unless...

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: ...you observe their game from a higher perspective. They're very detailed individuals, so their weak point lays in the bigger picture. They can't be everywhere at the same time, if you show them you got the higher ground they can't reach you with simple words. Show them you are worthy of completing their game, show them your spiritual side, your deeper knowledge, words they've never heard about, they're extremely curious beings , and if they consider you interesting enough, they'll respect you and listen to what you can bring to their table of knowledge, if you pass their test, soon you'll hear the engine of their car and them approaching you saying "get it loser, we're going to play with people's minds"

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 3H: Elizabeth Taylor, Emma Watson, Halle Berry, Honor Blackman, Johnny Depp

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 4TH HOUSE: Cuddles that cage you. Such a sweet cutie pie right? Well, check your cholesterol levels because a too darn nice gesture from these natives can reveal itself as a fatal dose. They know the strings to pull to get your heart, and believe me my friends, if they get you to feel a nice comfy cozy presence that makes you feel at home, don't get too comfortable because they're about to cut that heart of yours in slices of cake to satisfy their bitter palate. Masters at emotional manipulation, they get your heart, they get your favours. And you'll feel so good about it won't you? They're giving all those nice smiles, warm hugs, puppy eyes, how could such a lovely little thing has shady thoughts right? Oh dear, you already fell into that trap didn't you...ohhh they're sobbing... nono, listen to me, don't rush to them, there's something more you need to know...(these natives actually never felt a sense of belonging, they didn't receive affection from their family, they don't really know what it truly means to have a home to return to)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you're a mature person, and that you won't play with childish people. Show them you get the job done, and you have earned and built a place with seriousness and competence, you serve people you are loyal to, and their loyalty awaits for you every single time you get to them, back to the place you call home. They will fall for your confidence and devotion, they'll want to become one of those loyal people you care for so much, they'll want to experience your genuine feelings and learn how it must be to feel them personally too.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 4H: Marilyn Monroe, Rihanna, Jane Russel, Barbara Bach

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 5TH HOUSE: "I'll paint you like one of my french girls". Artistic, creative and smokey hot individuals. Their acting is flawlessly on point, they will dramatically impersonate the character you have a crush on. They'll show you their beautiful sketches and suddenly you're wearing the Heart of the Ocean, laying 💃au naturel💃 on an expensive sofa. Charming like the sun, they're the reincarnation of Apollo, they give you attention and seduce you by playing a hot chase. Beware of your position, the push and pull is not so cool if you're on the top of the Titanic with your arms wide open: one push, no pull and you're gone. But if you wanna catch their heart and not be catched by the ocean you'll need to resist their bright blind sunny aura by putting on sunglasses ,we're about getting✨ extra✨ too 🕶 (and don't forget the sunscreen!)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them your rebellious side. Break their mirror into pieces, and the Gaston in them will go crazy. While they play with their ego to get attention, you play with your individuality and eccentricity not to get it. They'd wonder how such an introverted individual can arouse so many eyes without even trying! They'd get so jealous of you being unbothered of it, until you make them realize they're not embracing their true self, and you'll make them wonder how it should feel like to break free without caring about all those mirror scars...

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 5H: Margot Robbie, Diana Rigg

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 6TH HOUSE: The sexy competent librarians 👀. Details makes the difference, and these natives know it way too well. "Ohhh that book fell on the ground could you please hand it to me?" *proceed to put a little note in your hand* "ohh thank you, i guess this must be a book i'll have to read, the universe has spoken 👀". Skilled individuals and humble about it. They work hard behind the scenes to create a perfect plan to seduce you, it even shows on their face, like did you sleep? But well, those dark circles look so hot on them it's crazy, you can't resist their appeal. Naturally good at picking up what people needs. They make even the everyday tasks so worth it when it comes to spend time with them. They could seduce you by giving you a pet as a meaningful gift. You'll feel special because they started playing their plan by showing you they have high standards. And who wouldn't want to be picked by someone picky?

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them it's ok to be imperfect. Show them that their plan don't need to be so detailed, they already got you by showing their efforts. They attach their worth to how capable they are, and refuse to believe they're worthy as only human being. If you let them know with empathy that value is only a matter of perspectives and that in your perspective they're already genuinely perfect in all their imperfections they'll feel so appreciated that the detailed plan they built can only unfold further without it making them even feel like they're putting efforts.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 6H: Lana Del Rey, Timothee Chalamet, Michael Jackson, Natalia Dyer, Chelo Alonso, Claudia Cardinale

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 7TH HOUSE: *sweet wedding music playing*... oh shoot, why are you wearing that suit/wedding dress?... ohh right, they seduced you to get married to them right away to steal your fourtune 😏. No but really, these natives makes people want to put a ring on their finger just after a singe conversation. The favourite of the masses. They're liked by everyone, because they are impeccable at the art of changing masks during conversations. Could even easily grasp the heart of their enemies. Their poise, their composure and their balance in themselves makes people think they're the perfect wife/husband material. Flawless fashion and perfect taste in clothing added to a, now rare, common sense inspire a sense of lost glamour that invade other people's minds and fantasies. Their gentle movements and nice actions strike to win other people's daydreams to be able to win their own dream life.

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you catch the real them in between changing masks. They'd vacillate and lose that control a bit, if you show that you also are confident in your skin and you aren't afraid to show your authentic self in public,even if this means having haters, you'd make them want to lose their kept and to just break themselves free from any expectations to live life discovering who they truly are inside and not who they should be to respect society's standards.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 7H: Audrey Hepburn, Greta Garbo, Zendaya, Demi Moore, Kristen Stewart

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 8TH HOUSE: Intoxicating nymphs with a soft spot for inheritance. They're black widows standing at the funeral of their poor husband number "i lost the count" (well, they could easily marry a Count and "lose" him from death to "natural causes" 🥺). These natives will seduce you privately, they'll wrap you up in their fog and you won't be able to see anything else but them with no way to escape their bubble. They'll get you obsessed and addicted, poisoning you with their charisma and their deep meaningful words, making you feel special. They know how to use human psychology to their advantage, some of them might even seduce you with sex, or might seduce you to get sex with them.(These people feel extremely lonely even if they hide it under a mask of perfect self control , they crave that intimate deep connection that they never or rarely experience where they can show their vulnerabilities without getting judged.)

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them stability in yourself and your element to create a space that will make them feel safe to open up. Let them feel all the sensations they closed themselves up to, and once you see them getting comfortable,make them feel themselves in all their power by triggering their senses. Make them feel heard by sharing your insecurities and listen to theirs with compassion and genuine understanding. They'll be yours forever.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 8H: Shakira, Uma Thurman, Ursula Andress, Priyanka Chopra, Billie Eilish, Cate Blanchett

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 9TH HOUSE: Exotic and ethereal beings that will seduce you with their spirituality and higher knowledge. They like to present themselves as gods/goddesses (put on that white shapeless drape and make it looks expensive and like they've been living in it for ages *sexy wise*🔮). They'll make you fall for their trap by triggering your mind and sense of self, trip you by making you believe there's something greater than you, let you believe they are IT. They'll use their personal philosophies to brainwash you. Could seduce you by challenging/changing your faith/religion. Their foreign appeal attracts people in, and with that contagious laugh...you won't feel any symptoms, instead it'll feel like you're being transported to the Temple of the Gods, enjoying your wine, letting yourself be cradled in the arms of Bacchus. Enjoy the voyage of the mind, but not by too much or you'll never find your way back home...

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them you can't see what they want you to see. Make them doubt their blind faith by picking up details they've forgot about, important details that would break the higher purpose and sense of their plan. If you give them even a little existential crisis, they'll feel lost and will follow you to have a little bit of certainty to bear the huge uncertainty.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene in 9H: Sharon Stone, Elle Fanning, Gina Lollobrigida

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 10TH HOUSE: Bosses of sensuality. Their intensely demanding and confident aura traps everyone in making them wanting to crawl at these natives feet to receive just a pinch of their attention. They take responsibility, they inspire everyone around them with their work ethic and their serious approach. No mistakes allowed, they're the epitome of a perfectly stable and successful individual. Bearer of way too much attention, they try to focus on their path, and this only drives people crazier. They're not particularly flirty natives, but their availability to others makes them irresistible beings people feel entitled to project their insecurities onto. In case of highly sexual beings, people with this placement could seduce you at work, or by showing their work and how good they are at it.

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them how to embrace their emotional side. They only open the doors to hear other's problems, forgetting they have emotions that scream the needs to be expressed too . They're always cold and composed to mantain their public persona, feeding the weight of that outer burden with mature temper, forgetting their inner joyful child.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene 10H: Monica Bellucci, Sophia Loren, Dakota Johnson, Winona Ryder

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 11TH HOUSE: Driiiiing!...Hello?... *speaks in native alien language*...yeah, i didn't understand either. What's on these natives minds? Their unpredictable actions catch everyone off guard. But then they get on your mind and you wonder why. I told you, they called it. They have so many connections they'd get to you in 0.0001 seconds, yeah, 3H natives are fast, but these natives's brain technology is faster. They strike alone, anonimously, and ironically they take the hard and impossible route even when they could easily use their crowd of submissive sheeps. But they're the black sheep, like Batman, they don't fit in, Bruce Wayne is just another insignificant rock in the pile of the universe. But Batman, he can make a difference, he's dark, he's hot and he won't listen to your boss. Their rebellious aura is irresistible. But i know more, so take my call: 🎵 <Hello from the other siiiiiiide... ⬇

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: ... at least i can say that i've trieeed>🎵 . No but seriously, these natives aren't so easy to get. They don't care about the fact they're seducing people most of the times, they let them be and focus on the bigger reason on why they're doing the stuff they do. You'll have to remind them they're a special person in their normal boring everyday clothes too. Bruce Wayne isn't just a simple sheep in the crowd, he is a phenomenal individual that can have as much power as Batman. Tell them they need to live for themselves, not for others.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene 11H: Scarlett Johansson, Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep, Brigitte Bardot

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ 12TH HOUSE: If dreams could kill, then you'd meet a Sirene in 12H. They're the enigma, the fantasy everyone want to get lost into. They understand life can be boring and monotonous, and people are so stressed out by It that they seduce their prey offering them a ticket to the Land of wonders. But their prey doesn't know that this ticket has a hidden price, much like in Squid Game, the premise of the game is too good to be true. Lies, unknown truths, a harsher reality these people will soon face if they ever wake up after falling in their trap. Sirene in 12H natives could play with their prey abusing substances on them, making them drinking way too much to the point of not realizing who they are anymore. They make you wander in your confusion. Most of their preys will come back or even never leave that deadly sweet arena because the thrill feels heavenly and once you see you can't forget.

⁕ 💥 HOW TO MAKE THEM FAIL THEIR PLAN: Show them reality is not that bad. Beauty is found in the mundane, because life is meaningful but only if you make it so. Choices are important and can forge one's path, and by not making choices you inevitably set youself up for failure and delusions. Dreams don't last forever and are not sustainable to have in the long run, besides, the most vivid dreams you remember are often your worst nightmares.

⁕ Celebrities examples of Sirene 12H: Aishwarya Rai, Megan Fox, Ingrid Bergman, Charlize Theron, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Kate Winslet

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

Congrats! You've reached the end of the post! 🌸

✨ Did you like it? ✨

I hope it kept you entartained, added a pinch of knowledge and maybe even made you smile a bit 🥰

Let me know in the comments if you resonated with your placement ✨

If you're curious to know how Sirene in the signs would manifest in your chart i made an entire post on it, click here to read it!

Wish you a fantastic day!

(like the one the mermaids from Neverland are having ⬇)

Yours,

Linnie 🦋

[jakesangel]

jake comforting you because of thunders -requested

dating jake while having some sort of fear mean having unconditional comfort and love coming from him. every time he hears thunder or heaving pouring, he will always text you making sure that you are okay telling you to stay on your bed listening to music loud enough to not hear the storm. he will never let you on your own knowing that you aren't okay and he would always do his best to be there for you.

so if he is free when the storm happens, he will come over to you as fast as possible,not wanting to leave you too munch alone, w items he knows will soothe you down. he'll bring your fav snacks, his laptop, his headphones and some of his clothes he was wearing a day ago. he knows that you're listening music just like he asked you so he knows that ringing or knowing at your door is useless. that's why he had asked your keys in the past, only using it for emergencies.

finding you on the bed, just like he told you to be, he would come in front of the bed, hands waving, him facing you as u couldn't hear him. you'd try to remove your own headphones, to greet him, but he wouldn't let you, knowing the thunder sound is a huge trigger. he'd come join you in the bed, wrapping his body to yours and stroke your body softly, specially in the places he knows you'd scratch out of fear, loving them and you. he would stay close to you, until it quiets down or until you fall asleep in his arms.

when it does quiet down, enough for him to leave your bed, he would prepare his infamous ramen along your fav snacks. he would then prepare the living room, w blankets n the food he just made, bringing his laptop and his headphones. he would come back, sitting on your bed and he'd take your headphones off. my baby, come here, he says, sitting you up, you're all okay, my pretty girl, he would then add, kissing your temple, keeping you close to him. i've made you food, let's go ?

he will place you on the sofa under the blankets before going to go kitchen getting the ramen and the snacks. but he wouldn't forget to put your comfort show n make you wear his better quality headphones. he'd eat faster than you so he can free his hands from his bowl, taking you in his arms he'd even trap you under his top leg, his two arms around your body, trying to not bothering you from eating tho. he wouldn't pay attention to the movie, but more to you, kissing you or hugging you tighter, trying to make you forget about the environment surrounding you.

if luckily, the storms stops, he will stay as affectionate as he was, finally giving you his clothes to wear after you'd take a shower. but if it doesn't, he'll help you with it. he would run you a bath,if you do have one, n help you w taking off your clothes, music loudly beating on the speaker. he would keep his clothes on, only wanting to take care of you. he would give you the softest hair massage, while humming along the song. he would also worship-kiss your face, telling you soft n comforting words my pretty baby, i'm all here you don't need to be scared or pretty pretty angel, the world is too harsh for you, words laced w nothing but adoration for you.

once done, he would patiently wait, for you to wear your his clothes, in the bathroom w you to help you w your night routine. he will keep telling you sweet words and kissing you, while putting on your face cream or helping you brush your teeth. he wouldn't stop being all over you and doing things for you until you would fall asleep, so your mind can turn off, ur anxiety too.

he will feel like his duties will be accomplished, once you've peacefully fallen asleep in his arms, he'd smile to himself seeing you so prettily sleeping, kissing you alseep.

notes : hai anon, here is yours request done earlier than expected ᵎ i truly hope it was better than what u imagined n i truly wish you find a jake to take care of you that way >< i tried to add the scratch part, i hope it's alright ᵎ please lemme kno what you think in the inbox <3

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeseungswifefr @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz

[yanderes-galore]

If you're comfortable, could I request a romantic concept for Endeavor (MHA)?

I have mixed feelings about him because I know he's going to horrid to Darling... but at the same time he'd probably try to redeem himself later- This doesn't have much of a plot but it takes place after Rei. The original draft I was doing took place where you replace Rei but I scrapped it for now. Take this as an AU that doesn't really connect to canon.

Yandere! Enji Todoroki (Endeavor) Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling (A section mentions female anatomy, however. This section is in pink), Obsession, Age gap, Possessive behavior, Manipulation, Abuse of power, Lucid yandere, Stalking, Marriage, Mentions of wanting/having children/baby trapping, Isolation, Dubious (forced) relationship.

In an alternate timeline where Enji decides to start anew from his old family, I can see him hesitate for once when he finds a new obsession.

After all, it's clear he's been horrible with relationships in the past.

He's only ruined his kids lives, same thing for his wife.

He probably doesn't even think he'll love again.

Then you come into his life, just about as annoying as Hawks, yet make him feel funny.

It's a familiar warmth... and he dreads it.

You're a new pro hero which means he's going to be dealing with you a lot.

This leaves him conflicted as now he'll have a harder time to suppress the burning warmth in him when he looks at you.

You're younger than him, at least half his age if not a bit older, he knows it would be unprofessional to do anything.

The good news, after his original family and the retirement of All-Might, he's much better than he was.

Unfortunately, if you ever got too close, old habits may make themselves known.

There's times you're so bratty... yet he knows it's just because you're young.

You're overconfident, yet you have a decently strong quirk.

Enji wants to be better, part of him even wants another chance at love, but doing it here would be poor choice.

You look up to him, something he both enjoys yet pities.

Which is why he'd probably stay quiet about his newest obsession for a long time.

He doesn't want to ruin your life.

You have promise, you don't need him to ruin everything.

At the same time... He worries he won't be able to hold back the longer you're around him.

To talk about Enji in general, he's a possessive yandere.

Even when he leaves his old family behind to make them happy, he'd still be bad with you.

Enji no doubt eventually would want to marry his obsession just to be able to show everyone you're his.

He knows marriage didn't go well for him before... but when he looks at you, he can't help but want others to know you're his.

That he's picked you.

To add onto that, if you have a womb... Enji would no doubt try to put a child in it.

I personally believe this man has a thing for strong successors.

Based on past behavior, that is.

So, if you were capable of having kids, Enji would eventually want that.

At first he'd be against it, knowing how his last four kids went, but the thought of giving you his kid...

It just makes him think it's another way to show you're his.

Even after losing his original family he's still possessive.

Old habits die hard, too bad you are on the receiving end.

Enji no doubt tries to be better.

He doesn't want a repeat of Rei.

He doesn't want to hurt this second chance, maybe he's just lonely but...

He wants to make you happy if you're involved with him, it's not like All-Might is in the picture anymore.

Enji may not even suggest a Quirk marriage in this case, perhaps this one he'll take his time with.

But your quirk is an added bonus as a fellow pro hero.

Enji tries his best to stay away and help you from afar.

He shouldn't have you, he doesn't deserve you, he can't ruin another...

Yet you grow close to him and he's trying to put a wildfire out.

I feel most pro heros would take a subtle manipulative approach towards their obsessions.

Things like coaxing their obsession into being involved with them.

Enji would try to stay away from it more due to past experiences.

But you just know he'll snap and start being closer with you.

It's no doubt an abuse of power due to his seniority.

Which is what makes it so manipulative.

You're both skilled heroes and you may even find dating the Endeavor flattering.

At first you think there's nothing wrong.

Completely unaware that being around Enji can get you burned.

Enji doesn't want to keep things hidden when he manages to date you.

He wants other heroes to know he's dating you.

That way no one else can sabotage him.

He wants people to know you for dating him.

When dating you he tries his best to be more amicable.

He doesn't try to hurt you, he's learned.

He's possessive and easily irritated when people bring you up... but never blames you.

He probably buys you what you want, even if you have the money as a hero.

He remembers certain aspects about you, even does it before you're dating.

Enji tries to hold himself back from marriage, but he may use it as another way to show you're his.

It's like a flex to him to say you're engaged. (even if you're not... but that's okay, he can change that.)

Plus, when he eventually gets you to marry him, it feels euphoric to slip on that ring.

He's admittedly nervous to ruin his second chance... which means he does his best to tend to you, even when he has work.

He wants to make things better.

If he notices you're falling out of love with him, or if you notice his more toxic behavior... he distracts you.

Others pity the relationship you two have, even if you are well cared for.

Most of his old family pity you, while Dabi finds it laughable Enji found someone else to torment.

Enji doesn't seem to care about the backlash.

As long as you love him, as long as he has that chance, as long as you're his...

Everyone else can burn.

Speaking of burns, early Enji may have used burns to mark his darling.

This time he refrains from that... but the thought is tempting.

Although... anything to show his mark on you couldn't be that bad, right?

He may not kidnap, but he'd definitely manipulate you into staying with him.

By the time the rose tinted glasses are off, you're in too deep.

If you can have children, you may even already be with child before you realize this... might've been a trap.

Enji likes to show ownership over his obsession.

While he may be caring with you, he's still controlling.

You're no longer your own person, perhaps even forced to give up being a hero.

You're his partner, you'll be known as his partner...

Enji doesn't plan on letting you leave, he'll use whatever means he deems necessary to keep you with him.

He'll lock you away, he'll bribe you, he'll baby trap you... anything.

Enji isn't going to mess this up again...

You're going to be his...

No matter what it takes.

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 6 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, 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: 15,700+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, current chapter, Chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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

Hello, my stars. Before starting this, I wanted you all to know I've updated my warnings. I'm telling you this to warn my sensitive readers who might get triggered or uncomfortable.

Warnings: 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 bpd), religious comparisons, demons, stalkers, possibly more to add.

Please note, this series is NOT to romantize, glamorize, normalize, or encourage ANY of this behavior that we see throughout the story.

I also have playlists for you to listen to while reading this, or just to listen to in general if you're looking for new music!

Thank you for reading this section.

------------------------

        “Alright Ms. (L/N), you’re free to be discharged. Do you have a ride home?” her doctor questioned, signing her discharge forms, consenting to the leave. 

        “Yes, sir.” She nodded. 

        She just planned on driving back home herself. Sure, it was dangerous, but she did come here with a bleeding leg, so she sure as hell can leave with a bandaged one.

        “Alright… Good. And, just a little rundown on what you’ll need to do. Please keep your leg elevated with your heart whenever possible. I signed for you to get two weeks off work, that way you wouldn’t be applying any weight onto your leg. Please keep eating liquids or non-solid for at least a week; so like jellos and puddings and soups. You should know the procedure, we need the inner staples to heal and it'll be good not to tear the stitches.” The doctor explained to her.

        “I also scheduled a appointment for you to visit me next week so we can hopefully check and remove your staples on your outer stomach if all is good, and if so, we’ll decide to give you the green light to eat solids or not. Please avoid wetting or poking the staples and stitches.” The doctor spoke, wrapping up his speech.

        “Thank you, sir.” (Y/N) smiled, taking the discharge papers from the doctor’s hands.

        “Do you need any help finding the exit?” the doctor questioned as her nurse removed the IV needle from (Y/N)’s veins, placing a piece of cotton on the bleeding hole and medical tape to hold the cotton in place.

        “No, sir. I’ll be just fine… I have to make a quick visit anyways…” (Y/N) spoke.  

        The doctor left the room after (Y/N) took the papers from him, the nurse following after the doctor. (Y/N) stood up and resisted the urge to stretch, that would just strain and possibly snap any stitching or stapling.

        She looked at the clothes the nurse left on her bedside. (Y/N) snatched the clothes and walked to the bathroom, locking the door. Because her clothes were ruined yesterday with blood and had to be cut in the emergency room, she was given paper scrubs from the hospital to wear. Sure, they sucked and were flimsy, but it was better than leaving naked. Hospitals can only do so much. 

        (Y/N) put on the fabric and her shoes (that were fortunately in one piece). She unlocked the bathroom, walking out and exiting the hospital room. She walked to the elevators, entering one and pressing the psychiatric floor. 

        She waited for the elevators doors to open, exiting them once they did. She walked down the hallways with a limp, ignoring it as she made her way to Andrew’s room. She knocked on the door to announce her presence, before opening the door.

        Andrew was awake this morning, a bit unusual given how late he stayed up with her last night, but perhaps he couldn’t sleep much. Maybe he has a headache? That brain surgery was only a free days ago, so maybe he's experiencing some pain.

        “Hey, are you okay?” (Y/N) questioned, disturbing him from looking out the window. 

        Andrew’s head snapped over to her once he heard her voice. He looked surprised, and his electric green eyes looked a little puffy and red, like he was about to cry; however there were no tears streaming down his face, as if he was refusing to cry.

        “Andrew? Are you okay?” (Y/N) repeated, concerned as she limped over to him, taking a seat on the guest chair.

        “Ahem, yeah. I’m fine…” he covered his mouth and coughed, turning his head away from her. “Do you need something?” he questioned.

        “I’m getting discharged, so I won’t see you for at least two weeks, possibly even longer.” (Y/N) explained, her eyes subconsciously glancing over his figure and observing his state

        His black hair was messy—as it usually was—and he still remained pale, with the exception of red rings around his eyes and a blush on his nose. His broken legs were elevated to his heart by keeping pillows under his legs. He didn’t have any bandages wrapped around his head anymore since his staples weren’t bleeding anymore after his brain surgery. His breathing patterns looked normal and he doesn’t appear to be sweating, so it’s safe to say the doctors got rid of the internal bleeding problem. 

        “Because I’m leaving, I need you to behave for the night nurses and day nurses.” She spoke, as if trying to communicate with a child.

        “It won’t matter…” he muttered, his voice deep and gravely, sounding as if he was in pain.

        “What, why? What’s wrong?” (Y/N) questioned, subconsciously leaning closer to him with a look of confusion on her face.

        “They’re discharging me tonight.” Andrew spoke, his voice raising its volume so she could hear better. 

        “Why, that’s great s it not?” she questioned, mentally cringing as she tried her best to gauge a reaction out of him, hoping that he could explain more. “You won’t be stuck here anymore. You’re healing.”

        “No… I-“ he paused, unsure if he should speak about the thoughts swirling in his head. “I-I can’t leave. I can’t.”

        “Why not?” (Y/N) questioned. 

        Andrew stayed quiet, his eyes stuck staring at his hands that laid in his lap, seemingly ashamed to look up at her.

        “Andrew, what’s wrong?” (Y/N) repeated, standing up from the chair and bringing herself closer to Andrew, sitting down at his bedside gently so she wouldn’t disturb his legs.

        “Don’t you understand…?” he muttered, his tone going down a dark notch. “I can’t leave you…” 

        “Huh?” (Y/N) audibly spoke, voicing a noise of confusion as she looked at him, more so confused now rather than concerned.

        Why can’t he leave? Is it because of Ashley? Oh god, does he know Ashley's dead? That I killed her? Can he not leave me because he wants revenge? (Y/N) questioned inside her head, her nerves eating her up.

        “Andrew, I need you to tell me so I can help you. Surely we can—“ Andrew’s hands went up to her shoulders and gripped them tightly, his vibrant green eyes suddenly looking a little more of a toxic color, one to warn others that they’re dangerous. 

        “Don’t you understand, damn it?!” Andrew shouted, his nails unconsciously digging into her skin and the flimsy scrubs the hospital provided her with. “Are you an idiot or something? I can’t leave! I can’t do anything!” 

        (Y/N) looked surprised, her feet trying to take a step back but his hold on her wouldn’t allow that. She looked a bit scared, cowering despite him being the one bedridden. 

        Her previous thoughts of getting caught was instead replaced with being trapped. The room suddenly felt more smaller while Andrew yelled at her. The white walls suddenly looked like they were closing in, the pale color looking damn similar to an asylum instead.

        “I should’ve at least taken up Ashley’s offer on escaping this damn place!” Andrew spoke, shaking her back and forth with a crazed look in his eyes.

        Yes, terrifying. That’s why she decided not to work with adults and chose kids instead. Adult men are just scary for her. Having an erratic episode like this is a pain when you’re dealing with kids, but an adult man with a deep yelling voice towering you and shaking you like a rag doll is just plain terrifying. Especially knowing the fact they could definitely overpower you. Hospitals drug up their patients all the time to where patients think irrationally, and there's always the patients that believe they're the customer who is always right; giving them all a sense of authority or inability to understand their wrongdoings, whether they have a god complex or just drugged. It's always going to be dangerous. 

        It brings a shiver down her spine. If this is the effect Andrew has by just yelling at her and shaking her a bit, she’s scared to know what he could do with no broken limbs. 

        He seemed to go on an angry, mindless rant as he shook her back and forth. At this point, she might be the one getting internal bleeding in her brain because of this. 

        “If anything, I should’ve just died! But now I’m royally fucked because of you and these fucking doctors!” Andrew shouted. 

        A patient threatening suicide? Much less a patient on suicide watch? That’s not good, especially if he’s threatening suicide while almost being discharged. He could stay in this unit for mental health evaluation if he actually tries something. He’s lucky that she’s not on the clock, otherwise she would be forced to chart that.

        She mustered her nerves and grabbed his wrists, looking down at him and doing her best to keep a gentle facade.

        “Hey Andrew, let’s calm down and figure this out…” she spoke. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help."

        “I-I just—“ Andrew’s pissed-off expression changed, his grip on her shoulders loosening as he let out a sigh. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

        So he noticed…

        “I’m scared…” he admitted, his hand going up and playing with her hair, twirling it around her fingers, ignoring that it hasn’t been washed in a couple days due to the accident. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t go back to—“ he paused, stopping himself. “H-home. I can’t go back home because I don’t remember it.” He lied.

        He can’t go back to his apartment complex and be locked up in that room again. He can’t. Hell, maybe the complex actually burnt down like the news has been saying. But he has no home now, and if he goes to a shelter they might ask for documents or for identification, both of which he doesn’t have. 

        He can’t go to his parents. With his face on the news and being indebted to them again? Please, anything but that. He’s already done enough for them. He purposely didn’t write his parents’ names and numbers down when the doctors made him file paperwork because he didn’t want to see them again. 

        And he might go insane if he has to live with Ashley again. The hospital has been boring, yes, but at least he could actually think with some quiet. No more killing people or cannibalizing people or worrying about future visions or any of that crap. He could actually enjoy some peace for once. He loves his sister, but it's about time for them to act like adults and have their own lives. 

        And god, the money to pay back the hospital. He doesn’t have that kind of money. His whole bill must well be 20,000 dollars, possibly even more. He doesn’t even have a job! He’s not entirely sure if he remembers his banking information, and he doubts he has health insurance he can remember! 

        “I-I just… don’t remember anything.” He spoke, a half truth and half lie. “I don’t have parents.” Another lie. “I don’t remember where I live.” Another lie. “I have no money to pay off all this debt I’ll be in.” A possible (?) lie. “I have no job.” True. “I-I don’t know what to do. I’m fucked.” Andrew spoke, tears filling up in his eyes as he chuckled in possible disbelief, his hands going to his face to cover it.

        Yeah, that sounds like a shitty situation… (Y/N) thought, pushing down that fear he installed in her earlier as she hesitantly stayed next to him, uncertain what to do.

        She’s never had to deal with this kind of situation. Her patients are kids, and they don’t usually worry about money or healthcare or such things an adult worries about. Fixing someone's IV needle and fixing their bank account is two very separate things. 

        Honestly, it’s pretty sad. Adults have it rough. Most people now in America hesitate to call an ambulance because of the bill for that alone, ranging from $400 to more than a thousand for the ride to a hospital alone. 

        She doesn’t blame him for being mad, she’d be pretty pissed in his situation too. 

        “And, are you absolutely positive?” (Y/N) questioned, her hand resting on his wrist and drawing small circles to soothe him. “Do you really have nowhere else to go once you leave? Or any money or such at all?” 

        “No…” he answered, a loss of hope in his voice as he resisted the urge to cry. 

        “Okay… it’s okay.” (Y/N) spoke as Andrew kept playing with her hair.

        “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to scare you…” he muttered. “Please don’t leave me. I-I don’t know what to do and I’m scared and…” he paused, uncertain of the next words about to come out of his mouth. “I-I just need you. I need your help.” 

        God, not the damn puppy eyes… (Y/N) though, nothing how his bright green eyes cleared of any malicious intent from earlier, now just glossy and filled with tears threatening to spill out. 

        He looked like he really didn’t want to leave her (or maybe it’s because he just really needs her help) and that just pulled her heartstrings.

        Think, (Y/N). You’re a nurse. You gotta be quick on your feet and think of a solution… (Y/N) thought, wracking her brain for a solution. 

        “What if…” she paused, thinking.

        Would that really be a good idea? He’s a male after all. The last guy she dealt with was a total psycho…

        No, it’s probably not a good idea, considering he’s on the run and he’s a cannibal. But she doesn’t know his whole story, so she can’t judge so quickly…

        Not to mention she’s a murderer herself now. Even if she killed a wrongdoer, she still killed someone. 

        But is it really a good comparison? Is it really so bad for her to kill just one life after saving many others?

        Now that’s just sociopathic thinking… 

        “What if you stay with me?” (Y/N) suggested, doing her best to keep her tone confident.

        “What?” Andrew questioned, unsure if he heard that correctly.

        Did she actually just say that?

        “What if you stay with me?” (Y/N) repeated, forcing herself to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “I mean, it wouldn’t be bad. I have the space. It’d be good for you too, I can still help with your bandages and elevating your legs and such, make sure there’s nothing going wrong during your healing process and that you’re still sticking to the treatment plan. I can pay the medical bills and you’ll work it off for me over time, until you’re able to get back on your own two feet.”  

        Ha. Pun intended… (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to chuckle.

        “You’re really serious? You’re not pulling my leg or anything, right?” Andrew questioned, surprised as he sat up, wincing at the pain in his legs and head from the sudden movement.

        “Hey, take it easy.” (Y/N) reminded, placing her hand on his shoulder to stop him (and to hide her shaky hands).

        She decided it wasn’t the time to freeze up or think, thinking would just make her panic to what she just offered.

        “And I’m serious. If you need a place to stay, you can come to mine.” (Y/N) spoke. "Nobody should have to pay to live, it’s just… sad.”

        Even if it is sad that you have to pay to live, that’s just life. There’s a reason why. Not many people would do things for free. Currency was made to pay others for their labor, rewarding them for a job done right. The more money, the more luxurious your life is… sometimes…

        There’s not many people in the world who would save a stranger’s life and expect nothing in return. Especially when you’re working hours to days at a time keeping people alive and healthy, it just wears you down overtime to where that paycheck is the only thing you’re looking forward to. Nurses work for money, and the ones that enjoy helping people instead start to despise them due to their ugly flaws revealing themselves in their states of venerability. Nurses and doctors see more ugly things in people than they do in infections. 

        Well, as long as you do your job, the paychecks won’t die; unlike the patients. 

        “So? What do you say?” (Y/N) questioned, looking down at Andrew with a forced smile. 

        Don’t think about the offer. If you don’t think, you wouldn’t contemplate about how absolutely idiotic that suggestion was. Seriously, allowing a cannibalistic serial killer into your home all alone? Let alone a man.

        The thought was indeed distasteful, but her mouth was quicker than her brain, and she already offered it. It would be cruel to give him false hope and swipe that right under his nose. 

        Andrew wasn’t too sure if he wanted to take up that offer. Sure, it’d save his ass from the streets, but it’d also leave him indebted to her, which can give her an upper hand to take advantage of him. It’s also worth noting that his face is probably still in the news somewhere, which could be bad if she finds out and reports him to the police… 

        But maybe there’s the chance that she’s not well-informed or active in the community or news? Maybe the whole news will blow over soon and she’ll never know? 

        It’s better than nothing…

        “If you’re really sure…” Andrew muttered. “Then I’ll take you up on your offer. I’ll repay you.” He spoke.

        Great. (Y/N) thought, fantastic and nervous.

        “I’ll get an uber for you. I need to get some stuff settled at my house beforehand. What’s your discharge time?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “One P.M.” Andrew answered. 

        “Okay, at one P.M. you’ll go to the front of the hospital and I’ll get an uber for you so they can drop you off at my place.” (Y/N) explained, clapping her hands together to avoid the awkwardness of parting ways. “Well… I’ll see you later.” She spoke, forcing a smile. 

        She didn’t give him time to speak or say goodbye, leaving the room before she could dwell longer. She needed to bury Ashley’s body before someone finds it, she needed to deep clean her apartment, and she needed to mentally prep herself for Andrew’s arrival.

        She took her discharge papers and entered the elevator, pressing the lobby floor and waiting. The doors opened and she exited the box, walking out to the lobby and out the glass doors. She unlocked her car and entered, turning the key in the engine and taking a deep breath, preparing herself for the day traffic and using her injured leg to drive. 

        She turned on the radio to a random adults hit channel, before backing out of the parking lot and taking off. She made a quick pit stop at a hardware store, buying one of those stupid state merchandise shirts, a pair of shorts, a pair of gardening gloves, some hair ties, water bottles, and a shovel. She paid in cash (thank god the emergency gas money she kept in her car since she didn't have her purse) and drove an hour out to that forest she put Ashley in.

        (Y/N) prayed to whatever god she believed in, or at least prayed to herself that luck would be on her side, and parked somewhere in the sticks. She fumbled around the backseat and changed out of the flimsy paper scrubs to that cheap state shirt and shorts she bought in the hardware store, tying up her hair with a cheap hair tie.

        She grabbed her supplies and exited her car, locking it. It took at least twenty minutes before she was able to pick up the dead body smell, following the stench to Ashley’s body. The blankets she was wrapped in didn’t look tampered with, so maybe nobody found the body beforehand. 

        (Y/N) made quick work, putting on the gardener gloves and grabbing a shovel, finding a patch of loose dirt and started digging. 

        Six-foot grave my ass, if she buried that deep then she might not be able to get out of the hole. (Y/N) settled on a four foot grave, digging and making sure to take breaks so she wouldn’t snap any stitches or staples. 

        At least two or three hours later, she was able to roll Ashley’s body into the hole. Staring at the bloodied cloth was just so unsettling… a reminder of what she’s done.

        She’s seen plenty of blood and gore before, but she’s never been the cause of it (or at least, she’s never punctured skin for anything other than the intent to help someone). 

        It felt right to say something, a little memoir or a speech or something. 

        She grabbed some big rocks and made an imaginary audience, setting them near the grave as (Y/N) stood before it.

        “Today, we are here to celebrate life and remember the loss of it…” (Y/N) began.

        Yep, killing someone who tried to kill you first, then proceeding to make a whole damn memoir of them… that’s totally normal and not something someone unhinged would do. Or maybe it’s just because she’s a really compassionate person and feels sorry for killing her. Maybe a bit of both.

        “Ashley Graves was the younger sister of Andrew Graves. She was… passionate and determined.” (Y/N) spoke awkwardly, clasping her hands together, ignoring the dirt itching them inside the glove. 

        “We’re here to celebrate her life and youth. While she died young, she stayed golden. She was very pretty, and I’m sure she accomplished something in her life at one point…” (Y/N) rambled. 

        “I don’t know much about her, and I would’ve brought her brother here too if I wasn’t so concerned about him killing me too. I’m already digging one grave, I don’t need to dig my own too… or one for Andrew…” (Y/N) muttered, hiding that last part from the rock audience with a cough. 

        “Too soon to joke? Yeah… that was a bit hard… like rock.” (Y/N) chuckled too herself. “I’m sorry, sorry! This is a rocky start…” (Y/N) giggled, before her smile dropped, reality coming back and hitting her.

        “Fucking hell… I hate myself.” (Y/N) groaned, dropping down to her knees and covering her face with her hands, before coughing and spitting once the dirt on her gloves got in her mouth and eyes.

        When she got the dirt out of her eyes and mouth, she settled for staring at the dead body. Ashley died young and she was pretty, surely there must've been something good Ashley could've done with her future. 

        It really didn’t have to be this way, perhaps an agreement could’ve been made. While Ashley threatened her first, (Y/N) attacked her first, provoking her by spraying perfume in Ashley’s eyes.

        “Oh fuck…” (Y/N) groaned, pulling the strands of hair that has fell from her hair tie after her manual labor. “I’m really burying a body of a young woman. One I killed no less…” she muttered to herself, wishing that this all could’ve just been one big dream.

        A dream that she met some fugitives on the run, that she stooped so low as to murder another so violently and decided to house another. That she had to witness her favorite patient die after spending three years with her. 

        Honestly, she wished everything in her life was a dream. She wished being neglected and locked into a room for hours upon a time, sleeping and crying and famished, was a dream. She wished the relentless bullying throughout her school years was a dream. She wished all the pressure and stress she set upon her, forcing herself to grow out of childhood early so she could focus on the future, was a dream. She wished that disgusting and obsessive man was a dream, that he never sent those letters or took her to court or even did anything he did.

        No, she didn’t wish it was a dream; she wished it was a nightmare. Dreams are meant to be enjoyed, or at least allow yourself into a false sense of security to enjoy momentarily. 

        The constant harassment, the constant paranoia, the constant loneliness, the constant emptiness. She’d rather not torture herself in the dream world either. 

        Before Hailey died, she asked (Y/N) what she would like to be surrounded by, and (Y/N) said “beds” because she liked sleeping. She left it at that so she wouldn’t disturb the bittersweet moment as Hailey died. Perhaps if Hailey was older, or a friend rather than a patient, (Y/N) might have told her the truth. 

        Sure, beds are comfortable. A de-stressing spot for her and many others alike. Being bundled up in warmth and motherly affection she never experienced in her life, seeking comfort from an inanimate object to replace her own mother's nonexistent affection. 

        Beds are also comfortable when you die. Lots of people die in their beds. Most people imagine that they’ll die surrounded by their loved ones, peacefully succumbing to death. (Y/N)’s never bothered contemplating death, she knew if she was going to die it would be suicide—or, at least she thought so. After Ashley trying to kill her and possibly Andrew being her potential killer too in the future if he ever finds out what she did, she’s not too sure how she’ll die now.

        She’ll probably die from another depressive episode like starving herself and staying in bed, or some other health cause in her sleep. Whatever it is, her death bed would be made of cotton and polyester, she hopes. Perhaps in her will she'll write down she wants a twin-sized mattress in her coffin, at least make her death bed comfortable.

        Everyday just feels like a struggle to get out of bed now. 

        “Ashley…” she began.

        Now thinking about it, is it even right to speak Ashley’s name after she’s the cause of her death?

        “I’m sorry for killing you, and for causing you whatever pain or paranoia you experienced to where you felt the best course of action was to kill me. Things could’ve possibly been different if I had just talked to you, but I didn’t, and for that, you’re gone and I'm still here.” (Y/N) spoke.

        She wondered if Ashley enjoyed her life, what she had before she died. (Y/N) couldn't even enjoy all that she has, yet she still selfishly fought for her pathetic life, killing a woman who could've done better than her. Who could've accomplished more if she just fixed up her ways, if she just gave herself a second chance at living a true life. 

        (Y/N)'s had her chances, maybe happiness just wasn't for her. Maybe life just wasn't for her. Yet she's the one standing over the grave she should be in instead. 

        Maybe she should've just let Ashley kill her. Make all this pain and loneliness and paranoia just disappear like she wants to. 

        There was a moment of silence to respect the dead, before (Y/N) picked up the shovel and got to covering the body with dirt. It was faster to fill the grave than dig it, and she was able to finish after an hour. (Y/N) felt bad about it, but she stomped on the dirt to try and make sure it was packed and wasn’t loose. She grabbed the rock audience and scattered the rocks back where she found them so the grave wouldn't be suspiciously marked.

        Maybe I’ll reserve flowers for Ashley too… (Y/N) thought to herself, before allowing there to be another moment of silence to mourn the loss of life.

        After the silence, she walked back to her car, throwing the dirty supplies into the backseat of her car and hopping into the passenger seat. She buckled her seatbelt and drove out of the forest. Usually she would’ve taken a minute to at least desensitize her emotions so she can drive safely—or at least ponder why the hell she had a rock funeral back there—but she needed to get home and get her apartment in order.

        Once (Y/N) made it inside her apartment complex, she rushed to see if anything was out of place inside her apartment, swinging open her door and observing the crime scene in her bedroom. It smelt of potent citrusy perfume with the hint of metallic blood wafting throughout her home. 

        Before (Y/N) left, she did a quick wipe down of her walls and floors in case the police would investigate her apartment. Why? Well, there's no reason other than classic paranoia and the fear of being face to face with a judge inside of a courtroom once more.         

        Yeah, been there, done that. 

        Despite her quick clean, obviously it wouldn't be enough to get rid of the evidence if the police truly did a deep investigation (that is, if they even her connected to the crime). Well, even if the police doesn't piece out the murder, Andrew might. Andrew is Ashley's sister, surely he must know enough about her to know if she's capable of committing murder, especially because they were partners in crime. 

        Key word: were.

        (Y/N) glanced at the clock, seeing the time was 12 P.M. (Y/N) pulled out her phone and paid for an uber to pick Andrew up at the hospital entrance. His ride will be about thirty minutes if the traffic is good, so (Y/N) can only assume she'll have two hours to clean if she's lucky.

        Surprisingly—for a sorry excuse of a woman—her apartment isn't trashed or damaged; it's pretty clean. (Y/N) always worried if her parents one day stopped by and entered her apartment. She really didn't want to hear her mother's berating comments or her father's comments on how she should move back to the farm and be safe there. 

        She also worried about having her neighbors suddenly knock on her door to talk to her, or her landlord entering. She didn't want to give the impression that she's lazy, and she didn't want to give the impression that she's depressed either; she'd rather not have others pity her in such ways. She's an adult, she needs to learn how to take care of herself eventually, otherwise how will she expect to take care of the kids at work? Let alone Andrew who will now reside in her home? 

        Oh gosh. How is she going to take care of Andrew? Shit. What if the neighbors see him and recognize him from on the news? What if the uber driver recognizes him? She'll go to jail for knowing he's a murderer and still helping him. She'll lose her job if they find out she's keeping a former patient at her apartment. 

        Damn it... damn it... damn it... 

        She paced around her bedroom in circles, her hands shaking and her legs weak as she started overthinking.

        Jesus, what if he becomes crazy? Well, more crazy than a cannibalistic murderer can possibly be. What if he becomes like him? She'll have to move away again. She'll have to hide away before he finds her and ruins her life once more. 

        The vision of torn sugar papers stained with special red ink. The sounds of either paper or her sanity ripping as she screamed and stopped on the scraps, before scooping up the pieces and burning them outside in her father's grill. Or maybe it was the constant feeling of dread and being watched, resorting to her superiors, her friends, her family; just anyone to help her and to listen to her. But they just laughed in her face, or scowled at her.

        "Stop searching for attention."

        "He wouldn't do that."

        "Why are you spreading rumors?"

        "Well, did you do something to provoke him?"

        The sound of the crackling fire as the embers of paper burned in the daylight was replaced with shattered glass and her grunts of frustration. She snapped back, looking down at the mess on her bedroom floor.

        Damn it.

        She shattered her vase, throwing it on the floor as it scattered to dozens of small blue and white pieces, the wave-decorated vase now ruined. Her precious lilacs she worked hard to growing now destroyed and lying in wet soil, the petals smushed, having been stomped on in her fit of rage. 

        (Y/N) stared at the mess for a minute or two—maybe five—before squatting down and hiding her head in her legs. 

        "Damn..." she hissed to herself, her anger at him instead being temporarily aimed at her. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." (Y/N) muttered, picking up one of the larger shards of glass.

        She turned her uninjured arm over, revealing the past scars from her previous self-harming episodes. They all have healed a bit, still a prominent shade of red, but at least they weren't fresh. 

        She didn't hesitate, not even daring to waste a breath or reconsider her decision as she cut her wrist, watching as scarlet milk immediately started spilling down in a rapid stream. 

        Well, they were fresh now. 

        One cut turned into two, and two turned into four as the blood continued to pour. A painful stinging sensation shot up her arm, burning as the blood dripped down her arm and onto the floor. 

        "Fuck!" (Y/N) hissed, realizing what she had just done. 

        She dropped the bloodied shard onto the floor, clutching the bloody mess with her other hand, another painful sting crawling up her arm from tensing her muscles in her stitched arm. She groaned, dragging her feet to her bathroom and scurrying for her first-aid.

        She opened the kit up, grabbing cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, wiping down her arm with the alcohol. It didn't sting as much like it should when rubbing alcohol is applied to a wound, it's probably expired—if not already—so she'll need to go buy a new bottle. She kept applying pressure until the blood eventually stopped, then checked on the cuts.

        Luckily, the cuts weren't near her wrists and they weren't deep either. It was a miracle she didn't cut a vein open, otherwise she'd have to go right back to the hospital. It seemed in her impulsive decision, she just cut without bothering to look where, slicing up the fat on her arm near her elbow. 

        (Y/N) hastily grabbed a large cotton patch, then wrapped gauze around it tightly, securing it with medical tape. There was blood on her clothes but she wasn't too worried about it, she was going to change out of the tacky merchandise clothing anyways, especially with the dirt on it. 

        She decided that while she was in the bathroom she might as well bathe quickly. She ignored the stinging spikes shooting throughout her arms as she peeled off her shirt and bra, kicking off her shoes and socks, taking off her shorts and panties. She threw the clothing on the ground and untied her hair (after some struggle, the hair tie came off with strands of hair attached), placing the hair tie down on the counter. She turned on the faucet and adjusted it to a bearable temperature, hopping into the bathtub.

        She didn't sit down, standing up so she wouldn't soak her staples or stitches. She grabbed a washrag, dumping it in the water and wringing it of excess water, before carefully going over her surrounding wounds to clean the skin. Once she finished, she proceeded to wipe down her entire body, before applying soap to the rag and washing herself, making sure to avoid getting soap in her wounds. After finishing soaping down and rinsing her skin, she dipped her hair in the water, lathering and scrubbing and rinsing her hair with shampoo and conditioner. 

        After finishing her bath, she exited the tub and drained the water. She grabbed towel and carefully dried off, wrapping the towel around her body and walking out to her bedroom. She grabbed a random bra and a baggy, cotton sweater so she could cover her arms and hopefully not rub too much on her stitches and avoid irritating them. She grabbed a skirt and panties, putting them on, along with clean socks (ones that were not bloody). 

        After dressing herself and sorting out her hair, she exited the bathroom and walked to her supply closet in the hallway, grabbing supplies for mopping, a broom and dustpan, hydrogen peroxide, a scrubber, glass cleaner, duster, etc. She had an hour and a half to clean up the place, which isn't too bad for a simple clean. (Y/N) cleans her apartment weekly, while it's a pain, she didn't want any neighbors knocking on her door and seeing her place trashed. She didn't want to risk a sudden drop in from her parents or such (she'd rather not hear their complaints). She had a reputation to uphold outside of her home and she couldn't afford anymore damage to it. Even after moving across the country, her reputation is held together by cheap duct tape. 

        She stared at her ruined flowers that rested on the ground, kicked on the ground and smashed over like roadkill. Once more, a good thing ruined with no-one to blame but herself. 

        .

        .

        The uber ride was extremely uncomfortable. It felt almost suffocating to be trapped in such a small space with a stranger. Andrew worries if the driver will look in the rearview mirror and recognize him, drive him down to the police station and turn him in instead of arriving safely at (Y/N)'s home.

        That's not the worst of his problems, he completely forgot to tell Ashley where he's going or what's happening (wherever she is, he hasn't seen her for a few days now...)!

        He feels a bit excited to have a place to go to, especially knowing it's (Y/N) he's returning to, but there's also a nauseating feeling in his stomach, a dropping weight sinking his inner organs with doubt. That feeling was replaced with a sense of fear, wondering what happened to Ashley. He hasn't heard from her in days and she has absolutely no clue of his whereabouts. He doesn't even know where she's been staying at these past days, if she even had a roof under her head or food in her stomach—at least he ate food from the hospital, granted the quality wasn't great but it was still something. 

        The uber pulled up to the curb in front of an apartment complex. The concrete on the ground had cracks and plastic wrappers from nearby fast food places, and the bushes out front looked overgrown and had more twigs and branches than it did green leaves. The outside walls were painted a tan, looking sun-bleached with flakes of paint peeling from the walls. 

        He stepped out of the car with the aid of crutches, no luggage to carry as he muttered a thanks to the driver, shutting the car door. He wiped the imaginary dirt off his ripped jeans. He managed to get his clothes back from the hospital after his discharge (luckily, they didn't have any rips or bloodstains that made the clothes unwearable) thanks to the nurses washing them for him prior to his release. 

        The apartment complex had multiple different buildings with alphabetical letters on them, each building having two levels and at least eight different staircases, so there must've been about sixteen apartments in each building. He wasn't sure which apartment (Y/N) lived in, she never gave him a number, but luckily he didn't have to go knocking door to find it as she spotted (Y/N) climbing down a set of concrete stairs. (Y/N) rushed over to him with a friendly smile, wearing a baggy, muted pink sweater and a black skirt. 

        "Andrew!" (Y/N) greeted, rushing over to his side, smelling of lemon and cleaning bleach. "I'm sorry for being so inconsiderate, I should've helped you get out of the car. Your legs are still injured and need to heal up." 

        "Hey, it's fine..." Andrew spoke through gritted teeth, forcing a smile. 

        Her hair was down just as it was when she was a patient in the hospital, except she looked so beautiful now without that damn paper gown—those gowns didn't do her any justice. Her hair looked brighter, even looking softer in the sunlight—or maybe that's because she had access to a shower. Her smile looked as bright as the burning star in the sky shining its UV rays down onto them, if not brighter. Her skin was a more healthy color in contrast to how pale it looked in the hospital's lighting—perhaps her skin was softer too. He wondered how her hands would feel now that she was free from the hospital's gloomy and depressing atmosphere, how it would feel under his own hands, before he forced those thoughts away for now.

        "My apartment is B04." (Y/N) informed, waving bye to the uber before guiding Andrew to her apartment. "I'm sorry for the stairs. Hopefully in a few months you can walk up and down them without any issue." 

        She guided him to a set of stairs, walking behind him so she could catch him in case he fell. When they made it to the top, she walked ahead and opened a white door with very little dirt on it and only minimum paint peeling near the bottom of it. She twisted open the gold doorknob, pushing open the door and holding it for him, watching as he limped into the apartment. 

        Andrew took a moment to observe the clean wooden floors, now understanding why he caught the whiff of lemon and cleaning product on her. She had a small table near the entrance with a small white and blue vase (similar to the one she broke in her room earlier). The vase had forget-me-nots, a classic flower representing depression despite how tragically beautiful they are. How cliché.

        The walls had no paintings or pictures, her walls painted a bright white that gave the apartment a modern and bright feeling. The living room had grey carpeting, a comfortable looking couch with some blankets and pillows to sleep or relax on, a table in front of the couch and a TV hanging on the wall. 

        "Here, here. Rest your legs." (Y/N) spoke, pressing her hand against Andrew's back, creating a sudden zap of lightning that spread throughout his body as she sat him down on her couch.

        "You don't have to worry about me." Andrew chuckled, a small smile resting on his lips.

        He looked far more comfortable here than he was at the hospital, seeming to smile easier. His skin even looked a bit healthier, though that could've just been the hospital lighting and blood loss. His charcoal hair looked shiny, but not because it looked healthy, more so it was greasy. Who knew the last time he showered. 

        "Do you want to go shower?" (Y/N) questioned, before mentally hitting herself at how weird that sounded. 

        Judging by the look on his face, he thought it was a little random too. 

        "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out so weird..." she laughed, flustered. "I meant, would you like to shower? Not to be mean, but your hair looks a little greasy, and I don't know when you last showered. It'd be bad to have your wounds dirty and get infected."

        "Oh." Andrew audibly voiced, resisting the urge to cover his hair at the realization. 

        The last time he showered must've been back at his old apartment complex, at least almost a week ago. He hasn't been worrying much about his appearance since the discovery of cultists, demons, and hitmen chasing after him has appeared. 

        "Right, that's a good idea..." He smiled bashfully, almost embarrassed to be seen this way.

        He knew he was at least decently attractive, never putting too much thought in his clothes or appearance so long as he was clean (which he wasn't at the moment).

        "Yeah, no worries..." She smiled, placing her hands on his waist as she helped him up from the couch, guiding him to her bathroom. 

        She opened the door and flipped the light switch, enveloping the room in bright light. The tiles were a shiny white, and the walls were a baby blue, a white tub with a silver shower head hanging from the wall. Her bathroom counter was clean, nothing cluttered on other than some hairdressing machines such as a hairdryer, straightener, curling iron, hair products, etc. She had some cabinets and drawers he'll peek into later, and an empty trashcan by the toilet. There was a laundry basket pushed up to the wall, and hooks to hang towels on the door. 

        "I'm sorry, I don't have any men shampoo or body wash..." (Y/N) apologized, picking up one of her soap bottles that sat on the bathtub's edge. "I hope you don't mind smelling like... Niacinamide and apple extract." She spoke, reading the front label. 

        "Better than nothing." He smiled. 

        "That's the spirit." She smiled, patting his shoulder. "Here, I'll rundown the process with you."

        She sat down inside the tub, her feet hanging off the side in a semi-uncomfortable looking position. "I don't want you standing on your feet, so please sit down like this. It'll also help you from getting your stitches wet. Remember, don't get your stitches wet." 

        He would've paid more attention to what she was saying, but he was a bit distracted, his hearing a little muffled as he took in the sight of her. It's not very lady-like to sit in a tub (fully clothed, he hated) with your legs hanging off the side in a way that made your skirt ride up your thighs. He tried his best to keep his attention on her face, but it was hard to as his eyes kept subconsciously drifting down.

        "So, the staples on your head is fine to get wet, just please be careful when you scrub so you don't tug on them, and make sure to rinse your hair really good. Be really careful when you brush your hair too so you don't tug on the staples. For your legs, you're going to need to wash them using a rag so you don't wet your stitches. Make sure not to get any soap in them either." She explained to him in depth, unaware how her words were going in one eat and out the other. "When you're done, pat your hair and body dry so the towel doesn't pull any stitches or staples."

        (Y/N) stood up from the tub (with a little struggle due to her position), breaking Andrew from his thoughts.

        "Do you got all that?" she questioned, smoothing down her skirt. 

        "Y-yeah." He muttered, avoiding her eyes in shame. 

        "Good." She smiled innocently. "Do you need any clothes?" she questioned, bending down to her cabinets and grabbing a clean towel and washrag. 

        "No. These clothes are fine... The nurses washed them before giving them to me." He explained, watching as she bend down, rising up and handing him the two items. 

        "You can put your towel on the hook, and put the washrag in my laundry basket." She directed. "Anything else?" 

        "No, thank you." He spoke, sparing her a small thankful smile. 

        "You don't have allergies or anything, right?" (Y/N) questioned, leaning on the door frame. 

        "No, I don't." He answered. 

        "So, anything you want for dinner? Do you have any dislikes?" she questioned. 

        "Anything's better than hospital food." He chuckled, leaning back on the toilet tank. 

        "Ha, you can say that again." She smiled. "I feel sorry for the patients that have to eat it, it's heated up in the back. I've had to eat it a few times because I've forgotten lunch and I didn't want to drive to some fast food joint." She hummed, moving off the door frame.

        Yeah, he could definitely see that. He wouldn't want to go driving in the middle of the night around this crappy city, especially to some burger joint. It already sucks driving at night, but having to drive at night in a city is just worse thanks to people ignoring the crosswalks and jaywalking, or the random drunks popping out of nowhere on the road after a night with their friends in the club. You honk your horn at them to get off the road and they think it's a fun game to scream louder than your car horn and zigzag the streets in a game of chicken. 

        "But, I'll let you get to bathing. I just wanted your input for dinner." (Y/N) smiled. "Oh, also I'm on a soft food diet for a few weeks, but I won't have you suffering with me for it. I'll make sure to hook you up."

        "Thank you." He chuckled, leaning his crutches on the wall next to the bathtub, placing his towel on the bathroom counter and the washrag on the bathtub's edge. 

        "Call me if you need anything." (Y/N) spoke, sending him a smile, before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind her, leaving Andrew to his own devices. 

        Andrew let out a sigh he didn't even know he was holding. It was hard to look at her and pay attention to what she was saying after that eye candy, but somehow he managed. Luckily, he retained enough of what she said to where he can properly wash himself without damaging his stitches. He took off his black sweater and ripped jeans, observing his ankles.

        He didn't need to wear casting anymore, but he still wore tight bandages to protect the stitch work and give a bit of support for the bone to heal itself. They had wired the small fractured bones together so the bones would stay in place. The thought of metal inside him made him a little squirmish, so he tried not to think much about it. 

        Andrew folded up his clothes, placing them down on the bathroom counter next to his towel. He glanced at the wooden laundry basket manufactured to look like a wicker basket in the corner, the cute little lid hiding her worn clothes that probably still smelled like her too. 

        He wondered if they'd share a laundry basket once he starts getting more situated around here. He wondered if they'd do their laundry together. If they'd cook meals together. If they'd decorate the house for the holidays together. If they'd wake up together in the same bed. Mundane and domestic little things like that he's unconsciously longed after for who knows how long. 

        He'll investigate her laundry along with her bathroom cabinets later. Right now, he doesn't want to take too long with this bath. 

        While Andrew cleaned himself up, (Y/N) browsed through her fridge, contemplating what to have for dinner. If she actually went to the grocery store, she’d have more food; however feeding herself hasn’t been much of a priority nowadays. Now that Andrew’s around, she’ll have to cook more to make sure he’s healthy and being cared for. 

        (Y/N) grabbed a package of Italian sausage that’s been in her fridge for a few days now. She unwrapped it, placing it on a frying pan over medium, before grabbing a pot and turning on the heat to low. 

        She grabbed some canned crushed tomatoes, tomato sauce, and Italian stewed tomatoes, throwing a can of each into the pot. Italian seasoning, basil, pepper, salt, oregano, minced garlic, and bay leaves all thrown into the pot. She would start a cooking stream if she wasn’t so insecure of herself. 

        She figured she’d just do an easy Italian goulash, it’s basically just spaghetti sauce with elbow noodles instead of angel hair. 

        After the meat finished cooking, she drained the grease and mixed the meat into the sauce. She grabbed another pot and filled it with water and some dashes of salt, waiting for it to boil. While she waited for that to boil, she started washing the dishes she dirtied and no longer needed. 

        (Y/N) absentmindedly spaced out while she washed the dishes. It’s weird how every time you wash the dishes, you’re either thinking of everything or nothing, nowhere in between. Perhaps you just disassociate to avoid the feeling of responsibility, or perhaps just to hurry up this annoying daily routine you have to do. It’s better to do the dishes than be featured in a before and after comparison picture for a housecleaning service on the newspaper (if anyone still reads those). 

        (Y/N) subconsciously peeked at the window, turning her attention to it. Normally she’d keep her curtains closed, but she wanted the room to be a bit brighter so she opened the curtains while cleaning. 

        A feeling of dread formed in her stomach like a whirlpool the longer she stared at the exposed window, causing (Y/N) turned off the faucet, drying off her hands. She quickly added some elbow noodles into the now boiling pot, then walked to the window in the dining room.

        She closely observed the window’s lock, giving the window a tug to make sure the lock stayed in place. She grabbed a screwdriver from a small basket she kept on her kitchen counter, making sure to tighten up all the screws till they wouldn’t budge. She closely observed the screen protector, looking for any mild holes, cuts in the screen, or any fingertip smudges on the glass, before deeming it safe. You can never be too safe in the city—or anywhere for that matter.

        She closed the curtains and pushed a small table back to the window wall, showcasing the innocent vase and flowers that rested in front of the window. The table was there in case any intruders broke in, that way there’d at least be a noise that would alert her if someone knocked down the table or vase. 

        (Y/N) went around the living room, observing the condition of every window and making minor adjustments to anything that needed to be done to ensure her safety was kept.

        Andrew hobbled into the living room, fresh out of the bath as he stared at (Y/N), confused on what the hell she was doing running around the windows like a lunatic. 

        “Are you good?” Andrew questioned, causing (Y/N) to yelp and jump at least five feet in the air.

        “Oh! Andrew!” (Y/N) gasped, holding her chest with her free hand. “You scared me. You’re very quiet.” 

        “Are you alright?” he repeated, hopping over to her side with the assistance of his crutches. 

        “I’m fine.” She smiled. “Just checking up on the windows. "You can never be too safe in the city, you know? Burglaries and murderers and all that!” 

        “Uh… Yeah… Yeah, that makes sense…” Andrew nodded, his thoughts drifting off.

        She’s trying to keep herself safe from murderers like myself, Andrew thought, a bitter taste in his mouth at the idea of her not wanting him around (despite his belief that she doesn't know he's a murderer). 

        “Hungry?” (Y/N) questioned, an innocent smile from her face as she walked back into the kitchen.

        “I might as well be starving.” He chuckled, even though he knew damn well what that felt like; famished and starving are two very distinct things. 

        “Well, dinner’s cooking and it won’t be any longer till it’s ready.” She hummed, watching as he followed her. “You like goulash, right? The Italian version?” she questioned, placing her screwdriver back into her counter’s basket.

        “Basically spaghetti…” he smiled. “Yeah, I don’t mind it.” 

        “Good, good!” (Y/N) smiled, grabbing a spoon and stirring the noodles as they boiled. “I’m glad to hear. I just decided to play it safe tonight and do something easy. We both could use the rest.” 

        “Rest would be amazing.” Andrew spoke, hopping over to one of her kitchen stools and sitting down with a quiet groan. 

        “Speaking of rest... How is your legs?” (Y/N) questioned, turning her body to face Andrew, moving away from the stove, leaning her back on the kitchen counter as she crossed her arms.

        “Oh, you know, they sting.” He hummed. “My ankles feel sore and there’s a dull throb every now and then, but hey, at least I’m still alive.”

        Unfortunately. He thought to himself.

        “Well, after dinner we can settle down and watch a movie.” She suggested. “Unless, you meant ‘rest’ as in you’re actually tired and want to sleep.” 

        “We’ll see after dinner…” He spoke. “I’m up for anything.” 

        “Sounds good.” She smiled. “And now that we mention dinner, it’s done.” 

        She grabbed a strainer and placed it in the sink, pouring the noodles in it to drain out the excess water. Once the noodles were drained, she mixed them in with the sauce, creating goulash. 

        She grabbed two bowls and scooped the pasta into the bowls, stabbing forks into the bowls before handing one to Andrew.

        “There’s parmesan cheese in the fridge if you want some with it.” She spoke, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. “Water?” she questioned, looking at him.

        “Yeah.” He answered with a nod, opening the fridge and scanning the shelves, before picking up the cheese and sprinkling it onto his pasta. “Thank you for cooking.” 

        “No worries.” She hummed, grabbing another glass and pouring water in it for him, handing him the glass. 

        Andrew accepted the water, giving her an appreciative nod as he followed her to the dining table, sitting down with her.

        She had four chairs around her dining table, despite seeming to live alone (as far as he can see). Perhaps the chairs are for guests or just so the table wouldn’t look weird with one chair. 

        Andrew stabbed his fork into the pasta, taking a bite, allowing himself a moment to chew and process the flavors.

        “Not bad.” He spoke, glancing over at her. “It tastes like spaghetti.” 

        “Thanks. It was basically the goal.” She chuckled, smiling.

        “Are you normally a good cook? Or is pasta just all you make?” Andrew questioned, taking another bite as his eyes stayed focused on her.

        “Oh, I just taught myself.” (Y/N) shrugged. "Cookbooks and the trial and errors."

        “You’re good.” He hummed, taking a sip of his water.

        “No, I’m not.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m pretty mediocre. I mean, cooking is a life skill so really I’m not good at it compared to others..."

        He noticed her deflect the compliment and even shut it down, raising his eyes at her suspiciously. If he could kick her without hurting himself, he’d do it.

        “Hey, I’m serious.” Andrew spoke, meeting her eyes. “You’re better than me, at least.” 

        (Y/N) adverted her eyes nervously, looking down at her food. Some butterflies flew around her stomach at the praise, or maybe her food was really just that bad. 

        It felt weird to talk during dinner. When she was a child having dinner at her parents, usually it was spent in either silence or her father usually talking up a storm while her mother ignored him. On the very rare occasion—when her mother did decide to acknowledge her—it was her sending passive-aggressive comments (Y/N)’s way and questioning her life goals and motives.

        “So… clothes.” (Y/N) spoke up, picking up some goulash with her fork. “Unless you’re hiding a suitcase somewhere around here with clothes in it, we need to get you some clothes and other essentials. We can go shopping tomorrow.” 

        “Are you sure?” Andrew questioned, looking over at her surprised. “I mean, I can just keep wearing this until I get a job or something.”

        “Gross.” (Y/N) spoke, making a face at the thought of him wearing the same attire for weeks to months on end.

        “Hey, laundry exists, you know.” Andrew smiled, playfully pointing his fork at (Y/N).

        “Yeah, no. You need more outfits, otherwise you’ll start looking boring.” She chuckled.

        “Oh? Is my face not interesting enough?” Andrew questioned, teasing her as he sent her a wink.

        “Oh please.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she felt her face heat up against her better wishes.

        Oh god, I’m flirting with a murderer right now. (Y/N) thought, an almost nauseous feeling taking ahold of the butterflies in her stomach, causing them to burn in acid. 

        She wasn’t sure if being a murderer herself eased that nausea or worsened it.

        Her doorbell rang, causing them both to shoot their heads up at the door.

        Oh God, please don’t let it be him. (Y/N) thought, nervous. How did he even find me?

        Ashley? Andrew thought, staring at the door. Please, don’t cause a scene. Please don’t scare (Y/N) off.

        “I’ll get it.” (Y/N) spoke, forcing a smile as she stood up, her shoes tapping softly against the wooden planks. 

        (Y/N) walked to the front door, taking a deep breath before she opened the door, looking at who was in front of her abode. 

        Immediately, she slammed it back shut, panic creeping into her as a new wave of nausea hit her. She quickly rushed back to Andrew, ignoring the sting of her injured leg protesting at the rough movement, slamming her hands on the dining table.

        “You and me are dating now.” (Y/N) spoke, seemingly breathless. 

        “W-wait, what?” Andrew blurted out, his eyes as wide as saucers and he looked at her, shocked.

        “Just leave the talking to me.” (Y/N) spoke, before quickly rushing back to the front door, taking a second to smooth down her skirt and brush down her hair with her fingers.

        She took a second to take a breath, then opened the door.

        “Hi Papa! Hi Mama!” (Y/N) forced a smile, moving out of the doorway to let them in.

        “Hey there, sport!” (Y/N)’s father spoke, ruffling her hair with his hand as he stepped into the hallway.

        “About time you opened the door.” (Y/N)’s mother sighed, following her husband as she walked into the hallway, looking around at the empty walls. “You still haven’t hung anything up? It looks so gloomy in here.” 

        “I just haven’t found any decoration I like.” (Y/N) sighed, shutting the door behind her.

        Mama? Papa? Andrew thought, shocked as he stared at the family. 

        He’s meeting her parents already? They just started dating a few seconds ago! 

        “Something’s smelling good! Are you cooking dinner?” her father questioned, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked around at her simple apartment, before his eyes met Andrew. 

        Andrew and (Y/N)’s father shared a silent staring contest, before her father rushed over to where Andrew was sitting, slamming his hands on the table. 

        “Who the hell do you think you are in my daughter’s home?!” he shouted, the table shaking from the impact of his hands.

        “Was he a one night stand?” her mother questioned, gliding over to the dining table, staring down at Andrew judgmentally.

        “Hey, it’s okay!” (Y/N) spoke, rushing to her father’s side and doing her best to pull him back from Andrew. “He’s good!”

        “Who is he?” her father questioned, his hands scrunching up table cloth with white knuckles. 

        “This is… my boyfriend, Andrew.” (Y/N) spoke, a embarrassed blush creeping up on her cheeks at her words as she managed to make some space between her father and Andrew.

        “Boyfriend?” her mother questioned, a hint of surprise in her tone. “Shocking.” 

        “Boyfriend, huh?” her father questioned, before laughing. “Sorry about that son, I didn’t mean to scare you. My daughter just got some bad experiences with boys. But you’re a man, right? You wouldn’t hurt her?” he questioned, forcing Andrew’s hand in his own and squeezing the life out of Andrew’s hand.

“N-nice to meet you, sir…” Andrew spoke through gritted teeth, a forced smile on his face. “And no, sir... I don’t wish to hurt your daughter.” 

        “I’m Frank.” (Y/N)’s father, Frank, introduced himself as he shook Andrew’s hand, dropping the hand back to Andrew’s side.

        “And I’m Rose.” (Y/N)’s mother spoke up.

        Andrew offered a handshake to her, but she just looked at his hands with disgust. “I don’t do handshakes.” 

        “Right…” Andrew spoke awkwardly, dropping his hand back to his side.

        “So… Ma, Pa, what brings your sudden visit?” (Y/N) questioned, holding her hands together in a service-like gesture.

        “We had a call from the hospital saying you were in the ER getting surgery, so your mother and I hopped in the car and drove across the country.” Frank explained.

        “Oh… that’s nice…” (Y/N) smiled, unsure what to say. “Um… thank you for checking up on me, Papa.” 

        “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, roughing up her hair once more. “I’m sorry I wasn’t answering your calls, we drove through a lot of dead spots.” 

        Well, that at least explains why she couldn’t reach her father while she was in the hospital. She felt pretty lonely not hearing there voices during her time of need, but at least Andrew was there looking out for her.

        Pathetic really, having to rely on a man she barely knows, let alone a killer. 

        “You look fine.” Rose spoke up. “Are you sure you weren’t just overreacting?” she questioned, her tone accusing as she look in (Y/N)’s appearance. 

        “Thanks for your concern, Ma.” (Y/N) forced a smile, unsurprised of her mother’s words while Andrew had to fight to keep his mouth closed. 

        “So what happened?” Rose questioned, taking a seat at the dining table. 

        “Well, I took a walk after one of my shifts, and I got attacked by some man.” (Y/N) explained, by now she was well-rehearsed in saying the same lie over and over. “And they kept stabbing me, but I was able to fight them off and run away. I drove myself to the hospital after the attack.” 

        “Whose boyfriend did you sleep with?” Rose questioned with a blank face. 

        “Rose!” Frank snapped, sending a glare at Rose. 

        “What?” she questioned. “Well, obviously she must’ve did something to get targeted. Things like that don’t happen just because.” 

        “I didn’t do anything…” (Y/N) spoke, a bit annoyed.

        How dare she even accuse her daughter of sleeping around? Does she really think she got attacked by a vengeful girlfriend? Does she really think (Y/N) would stoop down that low? To sleep with a taken man? 

        (Y/N) doesn’t accept leftovers—so to hear her mother accuse her of being the catalyst of someone’s adultery really upset her. She had to bite back her tongue to the point she tasted some blood.

        I mean, yeah, she got attacked by a jealous and vengeful sister if that counts? But those are two completely different things! (Y/N) didn’t mean to steal Andrew away from Ashley, nor did she mean to kill her! And she didn’t even sleep with Andrew to begin with! 

        Andrew looked shocked, doing his best to keep his face neutral and not stare at Rose with disgust. I mean, who the hell tries to justify their daughter’s attempted murderer? 

        Andrew wasn’t sure if he should continue eating, watch the interaction, or pretend like he’s hearing nothing. 

        “Well, what were you wearing? Did you provoke him?” Rose questioned, tapping her fingers impatiently.

        (Y/N) walked to the kitchen, holding up her middle finger her mother’s way as she grabbed two bowls from her cupboard, putting pasta in them.

        “I just wore my nurse uniform.” She explained. “I stopped by my apartment, dropped off my phone to charge and left purse home. Then I went on a short walk around the park.” 

        “Perhaps it was a hate crime if you weren’t screwing someone’s boyfriend.” Rose hummed, accepting the bowl of goulash her daughter gave her. “You know how rowdy people are getting nowadays. Absolutely disgraceful some of them are. I mean, we nurses save their lives and they hate us for not being able to save anyone. What am I? God?”

        Fuck, I hope not. (Y/N) and Andrew thought at the same time. 

        “Well, sometimes people just have bad medical experience. Things happen.” (Y/N) spoke. “For all I know, he could’ve been experiencing a mental breakdown or perhaps an episode.”

        “You should stop involving yourself with men in general. Remember that last one?” Rose questioned. “Or, are you finally admitting that he was innocent and you’re a liar? Do you know how much we went through even after you left? All that money lost and—” 

        “Rose. That’s enough.” Frank spoke sternly, pointing his fork at Rose as (Y/N) placed his bowl down in front of him. “We talked about this on the way here. You need to be nicer to (Y/N). She doesn’t need your bitching after what just happened to her. We should be grateful she’s even alive.” 

        Rose looked at her husband agitated, her expression saying she was anything but grateful, but she decided to keep her mouth shut for now. 

        “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I guess the roadtrip has been a bit tiring for Rose. She’s a bit cranky, menopause and all.” Frank chuckled, doing his best to make light of the situation. 

        Rose shot him a nasty glare for that comment, one Frank ignored as he continued speaking.

        “So, Andrew, was it? How did you and (Y/N) meet?” Frank questioned, taking a bite of his food. “You didn’t meet her along the road and needed to stalk her home for her number or something, right?” 

        “Papa…” (Y/N) groaned, not appreciating the hostile vibes he was shooting Andrew’s way.

        “Right… um… How I met your daughter.” Andrew chuckled nervously, his eyes trailing over to (Y/N) in a ‘get me the fuck out of this conversation’ stare. 

        Oh God, the question (Y/N) was dreading. She can’t tell her parents that Andrew is her former patient! That’s so unprofessional of her to take him in and house him! Especially after she lied about them dating too! Not only that, but her mother would never let her live it down. Rose would judge her for the rest of her life! 

        “I approached him.” (Y/N) spoke up. “At the library when I transferred colleges. I thought he was cute, so I asked for his number.” 

        “Did you ask if he was single at the time?” Rose questioned, earning an annoyed stare from Frank and Andrew too.

        Does this lady ever shut up? Andrew thought to himself.

        “Yeah. She was studying… college things. There were some books on her table, and she was reading one about nursing.” Andrew spoke, forcing himself to make eye contact with Frank to try and be sincere despite the utter bullshit and lies he was spewing out his mouth.

        “What did you think of first about my daughter?” Frank questioned.

        What the hell was Andrew supposed to say to that? That’s a death trap for any man. He might as well be a fly sitting on a Venus flytrap, any wrong move (answer) and he’s dead! 

        His first thoughts of her while sitting on that hospital bed? ‘Fuck, a girl. Hopefully Ashley won’t bitch too much.’ Followed by ‘She’s pretty. Prettier than the girl in the apartment I murdered.’ 

        But he can’t just tell Frank that.

        “I was attracted to your daughter’s eyes.” Andrew spoke, mentally slapping himself in the head.

        Stupid! Every guy says that corny shit! 

        “Really now?” Frank questioned, looking at Andrew’s suspiciously. 

        Just accept it, Papa. (Y/N) thought to herself, practically sweating bullets on her side of the table. It’s better than saying he liked my chest! Just roll with it!

        “Good. Good answer…” Frank spoke, slowly nodding his head as if Andrew passed a test. “That’s a real good answer, boy. I mean, your looks will change all the time as you grow old, but your eyes stay the same for the most part. Unless you carve them out or something. Carve them out like pumpkin guts.” He spoke morbidly, a chuckle spreading throughout his lips. “But good answer.”

        “Don’t talk about eyeballs like it’s pumpkin seeds, Pa.” (Y/N) groaned.

        Stop trying to scare Andrew away from me. (Y/N) mentally pleaded, begging for who knows why. I’m craving pumpkin pie now though… 

        “Aha… yeah. Pumpkin guts.” Andrew laughed awkwardly, unsure if Frank was even speaking of a joke right now.

        “You know, speaking of good. This is some good food! Gourmet stuff right here! You should’ve been America’s master chef instead.” Frank complimented as he looked over at his daughter, pointing his fork to the bowl.

        “Thank you.” (Y/N) forced a smile, not wanting to accept the compliment. “But it could be better…” 

        “You’re right.” Rose nodded, taking a bite of her food and chewing it. “It’s too bland for my taste.”

        It wasn’t made for you. (Y/N) quickly retorted, looking at Rose blankly as she imagined lasers shooting out of her eyes.

        “I’ll keep that in mind the next time I make this…” (Y/N) spoke, her plastered smile wavering.

        The heavy tension between these two ladies is enough to break a knife cutting through, Andrew has decided.

        “I think it’s just perfect.” Andrew spoke up, avoiding Rose’s glare.

        That’s two against one; (Y/N) food wins against Rose’s tastebuds.

        “So, Andrew. How long have you known (Y/N) for?” Frank intervened, sending a wary glance Rose’s way. 

        Andrew looked at (Y/N) nervously, unsure what to say to that. 

        “A year now.” (Y/N) spoke up. “I met him not long after I moved here.”

        “Really? And we’re just now knowing about him?” Frank questioned, surprised.

        “I didn’t want to worry you.” (Y/N) shrugged, finishing her food. “Besides… I wanted to get to know him better before introducing you to him.”

        “I’m surprised you didn’t bring this one into court for stalking you.” Rose spoke, crossing her arms as she glanced at (Y/N). 

        “Mama…” (Y/N) hissed through her teeth, finally breaking down as she sent Rose a hateful glare back. “I don’t want to talk about this.” 

        “Then don’t.” Rose shrugged. “I want to. Andes or Drew or something like that. Did you know—“ 

        (Y/N) stood up from her seat, tightly holding her fork in one hand as if it was a weapon. “I said no, Ma.” 

        Rose looked up and down at (Y/N), unamused with (Y/N)’s act. 

        “Rose, stop.” Frank spoke, reaching to his side and holding his wife’s forearm. “Let’s not trigger her.” 

        “When you’re done eating, bring your dishes to me. I’ll clean them.” (Y/N) stated, before walking out of the dining table to the kitchen in almost a robotic fashion.

        Andrew was pretty curious of what (Y/N) didn't want him to know about, but he didn't want to ask Rose and risk talking to her more, and Frank might just kill him for even wondering.

        There was a pause in the dining room, nobody wanting to eat despite how good the food was, their appetites ruined by the tension. Andrew still ate every bite though, forcing it down despite feeling ill from Rose’s attitude.

        Andrew grabbed his crutches resting on the wall, standing up and taking his bowl and fork with him. Rose’s eyes sparkled, seeming to make a connection.

        “That’s why she’s with you!” Rose gasped. “She can’t settle for anyone else but a cripple!”

        “Rose!” Frank hissed, his grip tightening on Rose’s forearm.

        “Oh please, you know I’m right.” Rose huffed, before looking back at Andrew. “You had to settle for her.” 

        “What’s your deal?” Andrew questioned, his voice low so (Y/N) couldn’t hear their conversation. “Why are you such a bitch?” 

        Rose’s eyes sharpened, but her lack of reaction could only assume she’s heard that insult before. “You don’t know how much money we lost because of that attention-whore. She should’ve died that night…” Rose muttered lowly, her voice unwavering as she meant every word she said. 

        Frank shook his head, but his expression said he was anything but happy. “Stop it. You’re going too far.” Frank hissed. 

        Rose sent him a smug smirk, seemingly proud of what she just said. 

        “Hag…” Andrew spat her way, his hands balled up into fists as he tried not to do anything too drastic to turn this family reunion into a murder.

        Andrew hopped out of the kitchen, ignoring the small whispers Frank and Rose spoke as they bickered with one another. 

        (Y/N) stood at the sink with the faucet running, her hands scrubbing her clean bowl with a lost gaze. Who knows how long she’s been scrubbing that singular dish. 

        “(Y/N)…” Andrew whispered, his hand reaching out and touching her shoulder.

        “Huh?” (Y/N) jolted, almost dropping the bowl as she turned her head to him. “Andrew? Did you need something?”

        “Just wanted to give you this like you told me to.” Andrew spoke, placing his dishes in the sink.

        His hands snaked around her waist, a shiver wracking through (Y/N)’s body, reacting to the intimate touch. 

        “What are you doing?” she questioned lowly, a nervous feeling appearing in her chest. 

        “I’m just playing the part.” He muttered. “We’re dating now, yeah?” he smiled, almost cocky to throw her words back at her.

        “Uh… yeah…” she muttered, doing her best to relax her body, her back pressed against his chest as her body leaned into him without her consent.

        God, this is so wrong for me to be doing with my patient. Former patient? Roommate? Fuck, who knows at this point! (Y/N) thought, nervous as she avoided his eyes.

        Andrew leaned against her, whether it was to get closer or to support himself without his crutches, who knows. He rested his head on her shoulder, watching her shaky hands tend to the dirty dishes.

        “You know, I’m really not liking your mother.” Andrew admitted, letting out a sigh.

        His breath hit her ear, making her shiver at the reminder that he’s so close to her.

        “Well… it’s not like I chose her.” (Y/N) sighed.

        “Heh, wouldn’t that be great?” Andrew chuckled. “Choosing your own parents. That would be awesome…” 

        “Sorry for her behavior…” (Y/N) muttered. “She’s just… not really empathetic. Or sympathetic. Really, she doesn’t do well in the emotions department in general.” 

        “And I thought my parents were bad…” Andrew commented, shaking his head as he smiled.

        The movement just made her more aware of how close he was to her, pressing his body against her. She didn’t know if she wanted to hit him with a dish and run, or freeze and accept the once-in-a-lifetime affection she’ll probably ever have. 

        He smelt just like her shampoo, making her understand that this might just be a norm. That he might actually live with her longer than she expected. They’ll share the same roof, food, shower, and who knows what else.

        A wave of confidence washed over him, giving him the boldness of a drunk frat holding a pool cue. His hands moved from her waist to her sweater, fiddling with the muted pink cotton, far too close to her bare skin for her comfort as her bandages peeked out from underneath.

        “Watch your hands.” (Y/N) gritted under her teeth, shooting Andrew a warning glare.

        “Yes, ma’am…” he chuckled, his hands retreating, deciding to rest them on her hips. 

        He watched over her shoulder as she hurriedly finished the rest of the dishes, before stepping away from Andrew, no longer supporting his weight. Luckily, he had his crutches to catch him when she abandoned his side, creating a cushion of space between the two. 

        Frank and Rose both entered the kitchen, Frank’s bowl licked clean and Rose’s bowl half-eaten. (Y/N) took care of the dishes, her hands scrubbing them before she spoke up.

        “So how long are you guys going to be staying in town?” (Y/N) questioned, finishing a dish. 

        “We only planned to make sure you’re okay.” Frank spoke. “Are you doin' anythin' tomorrow?” 

        Great, the question every child dreads when their parents are in town. It’s not that she doesn’t want to hang with her father, but she doesn’t want to hang with her mother. 

        “I’ll be busy.” (Y/N) hummed. “Me and Andrew wanna go shopping together. We’ll probably go get lunch too.”

        “A lunch date, I see.” Frank nodded, his eyes trailing to Rose. “Well then, we’ll head out tomorrow mornin' and be out of your hair.” 

        “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” (Y/N) questioned, turning off the tap as she finished the dishes, drying her hands with a towel.

        “Hotels in the city are so expensive.” Rose grimaced, crossing her arms. “We figured we’d just stay the night here.” 

        “I’ll set up the sleeper sofa for you.” (Y/N) smiled.

        If my parents get the couch, then that means Andrew will have no place to sleep tonight. (Y/N) thought.

        (Y/N) looked at Andrew from across the room, not all that surprised to see him staring back. Their eyes came to the silent conclusion and agreement.

        They were sleeping together tonight.

        “I’ll go get some blankets and pillows for you both.” (Y/N) spoke.

        She walked past her parents and Andrew, placing her hand on his shoulder in a silent command for him to follow her. He did so without question.

        He hopped down the hallway, following her to her bedroom. 

        (Y/N) opened the door for him, before softly closing the door behind her. 

        “Okay… so, my parents are taking the sleeper, which is originally where I planned on having you sleep.” (Y/N) explained. “So… this means we’re going to be sharing a bed tonight.”

        “Yeah, I figured that much…” Andrew sighed, resting his crutches against the wall as he sat down on the bed, crossing his arms. 

        “That… that’s it?” she questioned, a bit perplexed. “No protests or complaints?” 

        “No, why?” he questioned, looking up at her. “You nervous?”

        “No, I’m not.” She scoffed, a smile appearing on her lips, almost laughing at the idea of herself being nervous to sleep with him for one night.

        Because in truth, she was. 

        “I’ll go get them their blankets. You can stay here.” (Y/N) spoke. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit tired. I’d rather not sit in the living room and talk with them… would you?” 

        “No.” Andrew spoke all too quickly.

        Her mother was a bitch, plain and simple. And her father was a bit intimidating, despite his attempts to get to know Andrew, Andrew couldn’t help but feel her father is waiting for just one word he doesn’t like slip out of his mouth before all hell could break loose. 

        “Good…” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling. “So, I’ll give them their stuff… then you and me camp out in here and watch some movies together?” 

        “Sounds like a plan.” Andrew nodded, kicking off his shoes and leaning back on her bed, his arms resting on her pillows lazily.  

        "Hey, elevate your legs." (Y/N) ordered, throwing two pillows his way.

        Andrew groaned in a small protest, but listened as he placed the pillows underneath his calves.

        (Y/N) left the room, walking into her supply closet and grabbing some blankets and pillows; she always kept extras so she can rotate her bedding while doing laundry. 

        “I’m sorry I couldn’t spend more time with you guys, and I’m sorry for worrying you two to where you had to come out here…” (Y/N) apologized, handing her parents their bedding for the night.

        “Hey, it’s no trouble.” Frank smiled. “Really, we wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

        “Thank you.” (Y/N) nodded, going to the couch and taking off the cushions, grabbing a handle that tugged the mattress out from underneath. “I appreciate your concern. I’m feeling just dandy; it doesn’t even hurt much.”

        Despite her words, there was indeed a hiss of pain that shot through her stomach when she bent over to grab the mattress, but she just ignored it. 

        (Y/N) made the bed for her parents, tucking in the blankets and fluffing the pillows. 

        “I’m sorry, I’m still pretty tired. I just got out of the hospital this morning so I think I’ll be going to bed early tonight. Is there anything I can get you guys beforehand?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “We’re fine.” Rose sighed. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow mornin', so don’t be surprised if you see us gone when you wake up.” 

        “Are you going to be fine with that man?” Frank questioned.

        “That man is my boyfriend, Papa.” (Y/N) chuckled, albeit faked. “I’ll be just fine.” 

        “If you say so.” Frank sighed. “But just holler if he causes any trouble to you.”

        “Got it.” (Y/N) nodded. “I’m going to go hit the hay. Goodnight, Papa. Goodnight, Mama.” 

        (Y/N) exited the living room, quickly rushing to her kitchen and retrieving some chips, packaged popcorn, and Hawaiian sweet bread she found lying around in her pantry. She grabbed a few water bottles before rushing to her bedroom so her parents couldn’t see the snacks. 

        (Y/N) quickly shut the door behind her, locking eyes with Andrew as he stayed in the same spot she left him in.

        “Here. I couldn’t grab much since they’re camping out in the living room.” (Y/N) spoke, placing the food on the bed. “Just try not to get any crumbs on the bed.” 

        Andrew nodded, his eyes trailing around the room, making a few notes of the minimal decorations and how bare it really looked. He knows now that she moved here about a year ago, but damn does she not have any personality? 

        “I’m going to go change into some pajamas…” (Y/N) spoke up. “I’ll find something for you too.” 

        “Thanks.” Andrew smiled.

        “Here. You can choose a movie while I search. I’m a fan of all genres.” (Y/N) spoke, grabbing her TV remote from her bedside and hanging it to Andrew. 

        She walked to a door that led to her closet, opening it and moving stuff around, before finding herself a simple long-sleeved nightgown to wear. She tossed that onto her shoulder, then looked around for something Andrew could wear.

        Luckily, she was a fan of baggy clothes, whether it was because she was feeling like wearing something oversized and comfortable, or she would wear it on cleaning days. She grabbed a shirt and sweatpants for Andrew, handing it over to him before retreating to her bathroom to change. 

        She changed into her nightgown, deciding to save Andrew some extra time to change. She took her day clothes and threw it in her laundry basket, hiding the dirty and tacky state merchandise clothes she wore earlier while burying Ashley. She also removed the bloody bandages off her arm, revealing the fresh cuts she made this morning using the broken shards from the vase earlier.

        The cuts burned at the exposure to oxygen, a throbbing sensation going up her arm. She grabbed rubbing alcohol from under her sink and some toilet paper, pouring the disinfectant onto the cloth and dabbing it on her cuts to prevent any infections. She wrapped her arm with new bandages, calling it a day as she shoved the supplies back under her sink cabinet. 

        She brushed her hair in her mirror, washing her face with water and drying it off, before deciding she’s given Andrew enough time to change into his sleepwear. She unlocked her bathroom door, opening it and walking out, closing the door behind her.

        Andrew was back to laying in her bed, but at least he was dressed appropriately for sleep. The remote was in his hand as he scrolled through the movies, uninterested in it all.

        “Do you have a favorite genre?” (Y/N) inquired, crawling into bed.

        She kept her distance from him, cresting a invisible barrier between the two. He was still a man after all, two broken ankles or not.

        “Uh… not really…” Andrew shrugged.

        It’s not like he could remember much anyways, just what happened at his old apartment complex. He was just glued to the couch watching the news all the time, waiting for an update on when the damn quarantine will be done so he can get some food.

        “Well, are you in a laughing mood? Crying mood? Family-friendly mood?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Yeah, I’m not one to get emotional over movies…” Andrew sighed. “Why? Is that something you do?”

        “Hey, dogs and kids dying in movies are really sad.” (Y/N) huffed playfully, taking the remote from his hand.

        (Y/N) scrolled through the movies, both sharing bored and disinterested look on their face as they scrolled through the channels together. She threw a bag of chips his way, watching from the corner of her eye as she caught it.

        He opened the bag, shoving some in his mouth before holding a chip in his hand, bringing it to (Y/N)’s mouth. She accepted the  chip, opening her mouth as he placed it on her tongue, watching as she closed her mouth and chewed. 

        Andrew glanced back at the TV, watching as (Y/N) scrolled through the movies, before his eye caught something.

        “Wait, stop.” Andrew spoke, causing her to stop her aimless scrolling and look over at him. “Scroll back up.”

        She listened, slowly scrolling up, before he made her stop on one movie.

        “Seriously?” (Y/N) groaned, looking at Andrew with a half-hearted glare.

        “Yeah.” He smirked, looking at her with a smug expression. “Why? You scared?”

        “Ugh, please.” She scoffed, selecting the movie, pressing play. “Like I’d be scared of this. It’s just some ghosts haunting a house.” 

        “Hey, shush! Don’t spoil it!” Andrew hushed, shoving some more chips into her mouth. 

        She playfully rolled her eyes, yet smiled as she relaxed back into her pillows. 

        Andrew chose The Conjuring to watch, which means (Y/N) won’t be walking down any basement stairs or looking in any mirrors tonight (or for the next few days, possibly weeks). If the bed starts rattling from a ghost or demon, may any God have mercy on that poor undead fellow because she won’t. 

        Maybe Andrew was a fan of horror movies before losing his memory? Perhaps he remembers liking horror movies? Or perhaps it was just the only semi-interesting thing to watch.

        It wasn’t long before the two actually got intrigued with the movie, focusing their attention on the dark screen—(Y/N) had even turned off the lights for this. 

        It’s unknown who moved closer (most likely Andrew), but by the time she registered their close proximity, he had placed his arm behind her shoulders, pulling her closer to him to where she rested in his side. 

        She opened her mouth to speak, before inevitably staying quiet. Maybe it was because she was focusing on the movie, or maybe it was because she kind of liked the affection. Whatever it was, she decided it wasn’t worth mentioning. Maybe if they both just stayed quiet about it, it wouldn’t ever be brought up or thought about again. 

        The warmth of his body was a foreign sensation she’s never felt. Her chest almost hurt at this newfound intimacy, and she wondered if she was expecting heart palpitations for a second. She’s never held or cuddled someone, and there was absolutely no desire to after what’s happened in the past, but maybe she’ll enjoy it for once and hopefully it won’t backfire in her face like everything else has in life. 

        Andrew lazily fed himself chips with one hand, his arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s shoulders as he subconsciously rubbed her shoulder relaxingly with his free hand. The position felt almost natural to him, something that didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable or forced. 

        (Y/N) stared at the TV in a daze, a wave of tiredness hitting her. Her whole body felt warm and in a trance as she leaned more into Andrew’s side, before finally resting her head onto his chest. 

        Andrew glanced down at her, a soft smile spreading on his lips as his eyes drooped in fondness and adoration, one he wouldn’t let her see so soon of knowing her. His hand that was originally rubbing her shoulder instead moved and started playing with her hair, gently scratching her scalp and weaving his fingers through her hair.

        (Y/N) let the last bit of her restraint go, closing her eyes as her ears ignored the TV’s spooky music playing. She let out a small appreciative sigh as Andrew pulled the blankets higher up to cover her better. It felt so damn good being taken care of for once, that if she wasn’t so tired, she’d be bawling her eyes out right now.

        But he was a murderer; and so was she. Why are they capable of such gentleness and hospitality despite committing such horrendous things? 

        Maybe it’s because murderers are humans too. They were just like us before they were labeled murderers. If there’s a way (Y/N) can redeem herself of such a negative title, she’d take it. Maybe even Andrew could redeem too. 

        But if bad things happen to good people, then does good things happen to bad people? It makes her wonder how long this good thing will last, after all, nothing good ever happens to (Y/N), or at least it doesn’t stay long.

        Ah, who gives a damn… (Y/N) thought, her arms wrapping around Andrew’s waist as she relaxed in his arms, enjoying the feeling of his hands running through her hair. 

        Hopefully, now she’s done a bad thing and is arguably a bad person depending on who you ask, maybe she’ll finally start getting good things. 

        She knows one thing now. If Andrew could make her feel this damn good despite not even being here for 24 hours, then she can’t let him leave her. She’ll keep this affection and warmth all to herself.

        It’s time for (Y/N) to take what she wants now. 

Chapter 6 is done! I actually have chapter 7 all pieced out and what I want to do for that chapter, so the next chapter we're having tons more drama, a new and important character introduction (just a little spoiler for you, they're a yandere). Patience is always appreciated.

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, current chapter, Chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙽𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚞 - 𝙰𝙱𝙾 𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft Claiming|Mating, ft sex ed; Demonstration, teacher/student|age gap, fingering, nipple play, size difference, belly bulge, knotting

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 4,225

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: includes underage(16), Omegaverse, very slight mention of Blood, No use of Y/n, 2nd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Shikamaru is aged up to about the age he is in Boruto(and a couple others of the Konoha 13 are mentioned to be older too), the students are anonymous so they can be pictured as the New Gen kids or just random peeps, whichever floats your boat, oh and Temari doesn’t exist here lol or at least they never got together

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

“Make sure you’re all paying attention, got it? Otherwise, you’ll stay incompetent little Alphas your entire lives if you don’t learn.” Shikamaru Sensei announced to the class from behind you, sitting in his chair with you on his lap, legs spread open wide, hanging over the armrests.

You figure you would have been more embarrassed by your position if you weren’t so caught up in the Sensei’s pheromones. You felt his arm reach to the front of your body and spread your lower lips to show off your glistening, slicked-up cunt.

You’re a student of his friend, Kiba Sensei, who teaches older kids, old enough to have already presented, whereas Shikamaru Sensei teaches kids right about or just younger than the age to present. They reached the sex ed portion of the curriculum and he said he needed an assistant, vaguely remembering that your friend, an Alpha, was requested as an assistant for Naruto Sensei, the Omega course instructor. Another of your classmates, a Beta, was requested to help with the same course for the Betas and possibly again for an overarching lesson.

This wasn’t quite what you had in mind but you couldn’t get yourself to care, this felt too much like heaven for that.

You gasped at the sensation of his fingers on your slit, even if just the edges. The rough pads of his fingers felt amazing against your sensitive skin. At the rate things were going you wouldn’t have been surprised if he triggered your heat.

“You see how her pussy is dripping?” He called out, receiving a couple of vacant nods as all attention was solely on your naked form, “That’s called Slick. It’s a natural lubricant that every Omega produces. It indicates arousal and makes the process of mating easier for everyone involved. If you’re lucky enough to have a big ass fuckin’ knot, you might have to add more lubricant.” He drawls on, clearly not happy he has to actually be teaching these kids how to properly fuck an Omega, though he was clearly slipping in a hint of subtle bragging with a silent ‘like me’ in his statement.

“Uh, Sensei?” A hand flew up from the second row, the only female Alpha there it seemed, “What about male Omegas? Do they have both like Female Alphas?” She asked, fidgeting nervously.

“Yes.” He sighed, having assumed that was common knowledge, “Instead of having testicles behind their little cocklettes, they have pussies. It generally looks pretty similar down there for Female Alphas and Male Omegas apart from proportions, since Female Alphas, such as yourself, have internal testes. Moving on.” His voice was firm and left no room for argument, wanting to just get through the lesson.

“This right here,” he slid one hand up and stroked two fingers over your clit before spreading them just enough to frame your already swollen bud. The feeling made your body tighten up and your head to be thrown back onto his shoulder as a moan was ripped from you at the sudden movement, “is the clit.” He smirked at your reaction and teasingly nosed at your cheek.

“As you can see, it causes massive amount of pleasure for our pretty little Omega, here. It’s extremely sensitive so even the slightest touch can affect her,” he emphasized his point by simply moving his middle finger to gently caress it in slow, tight circles. Your back arched and your hands gripped the chair’s arms, your little Omega claws digging in and scratching lines into them while your feet flexed and your toes curled.

“Holy shit…” One of his students muttered, his voice heavy with arousal. You whimpered when he moved his finger away from your clit again.

“Please…“ You whimpered out, grinding your hips the slightest bit against his cock, barely restrained in his pants. He moved his finger away from your whole cunt, and to the juncture of your thigh and pelvis, which drew another, more needy whimper and whine from your throat as you started to grind your hips more desperately.

“See that? You do it right and you can make your Omega just as needy as she would be in heat. So even if you haven’t given her anything from your dick, she’s already basically cock drunk.” He drawled, though he was clearly proud of himself. “And you brats obviously know what tits are. If you didn’t I’d wonder how you even made it this far.” He muttered and got a soft airy giggle from you which he smirked at.

“If you do your job right and you knock her up with pups,” he punctuated his point with suddenly plunging 2 fingers into your awaiting cunt and made you cry out at the unexpected pleasure and arch your back while his other hand slid up your body to grasp at your breast, “then these pretty tits will fill with milk in preparation for the pups.” His hand shifted from groping you to pinching your nipple and lightly tugging. You became a mewling, whining mess and your body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to arch your chest into his warm palm or buck into the hand with 2 of his big Alpha fingers moving inside your pretty pussy.

“And how do you ensure you get your good little Omega to carry your pups?” He asked whether it was meant to be rhetorical or not, you weren’t sure but he answered in lieu of his students anyhow, “You knot her. You fill her with cum and her fertile little Omega cunt will be plugged up full and she’ll get nice and round with pups. If you do it right.” He growled out lowly at his students, practically convinced they’d be incompetent Alphas for one reason or another. He slowly dragged his fingers back and forth in your pussy and smirked at the lewd squelching of your slick. The Alpha made your back arch with a jolt once again when he scissored his fingers inside you and spread your puffy lips and let even more slick rush out of you and drip onto his pants and down to the chair he had you spread out over.

“Now, to make sure that you get it and actually learn this shit, I’ll be giving you a live demonstration.” Shikamaru Sensei spoke with a bored expression but his scent betrayed his true feelings of excitement to fuck your tight little Omega pussy. Your little virgin pussy, well, not so virgin anymore, but still untouched by a real cock, only ever your toys for your heats. The arousal in his scent served to cloud your mind even more with your own horniness rivaling even your heat at that point.

“Ready, ‘Mega?” His deep gravelly voice was right next to your ear as his lips brushed the shell of it, his hot breath fanning against your face. It sent shivers down your spine and arousal to spike directly in your core where his fingers still slowly moved in you. You whimpered out a hum of approval and shifted your hips in his lap once again. “I need words, Princess.” He spoke like a soft command though it still held just as much authority.

“Yesss..!” You hissed through the torturous pleasure of his devastatingly slow pace. A low rumbling emanated from his chest, a pleased sound, as he nosed at your cheek to silently show his delight for your answer.

“Good girl…” He rumbled and removed his finger from your slit, earning a displeased whine that he simply snickered at. Shikamaru Sensei slid his hands under your thighs and unhooked them from the chair’s arms and patted your hip to signal for you to stand. You obliged on shaky legs and almost lost your footing before he caught you with steady hands as he stood. “Careful. Can you make it to the desk, Omega?” He asked in a flat tone but you could tell he was actually concerned. You nodded with conviction and made your way, still on shaky legs, to his desk that he had cleared off before the lesson started and leaned your bare ass against it, waiting for the Alpha’s instruction.

He had a pleased smirk and a satisfied rumble when he saw how obedient you were being. Such a good Omega, waiting for your Alpha to give his command. It had his already hard cock stirring in his pants. He advanced like a predator to their prey and stood in front of you, back straight to showcase his height and how much larger he was than you. Instinctively, you bowed your head and tilted it to the side enough to bear your scent gland to him, ready for him to sink his teeth into and claim you. The realization gave you pause for only a moment and you corrected your stance to simply show your submission to the large Alpha. Another pleased sound left him, though this one was more throaty.

“Good girl.” He purred and moved his large hands to your hips to help you hop up onto his desk. Your bare ass and cunt made contact with the cool surface and made you shiver. “All of you.” Shikamaru barely turned his head to address his students with a harsh commanding voice, “Come up closer so you can see. Everyone, sit in the first rows and watch carefully because this will be the only demonstration today. Depending on the other groups, you might get a chance for another demonstration but don’t count on it.”

You glanced at the pups when the shuffling sounds started but a hand guided your face to look back at the Alpha in front of you and then returned to your waist. There was a faint spark of reassurance in his eyes as he blinked slowly at you which you returned after a moment, silently assuring him you were ready and completely willing. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips before he schooled his expression and slid his hands up from your waist, gently cupping your tits for a moment and tweaking your nipples as his deft fingers passed over them. A small chirp left your lips at the feeling and his hands settled on your shoulders to gently push you back to lay on his desk.

You followed his silent command and let him move your pliant body in whatever ways he needed to. Consciously, he shifted your leg closest to the pups to rest over the front of his desk, perpendicular to your body to expose your dripping cunt to them before he lifted your other leg to plant your foot on the surface for the moment. He stepped back not even a foot, still keeping himself close enough to adhere to your Omegan instincts— your neediness that grew more and more for him the longer he went on— to tug at the waistband of his pants. Finally, with a small sigh of relief from him, he freed his aching cock that bobbed up from its confinement and hit his toned and tender stomach with an audible ‘plap’ from his pre-cum coated tip.

The sight of his cock, a bit longer than he is thick, sent another wave of arousal gushing from your cunt that clenched around nothing. Seeing the effect he had on you, he didn’t hide his smirk from you as he tugged his pants down to rest around his thick thighs. He stepped closer to you again and rolled his hips to slide his member through your glistening pussy lips. The foot he had set on his desk was lifted and your knee rested in the crook of his elbow, spreading you further for him.

“See what happens when such a pretty little Omega sees a suitable, worthy Alpha? When she sees a nice big Alpha cock? She knows how good she’ll be bred. How good she’ll be knotted.” He stated, though it seemed to be more about boasting than truly teaching them a lesson at that point. Nonetheless, he pressed forward and grabbed the base of his cock to slide his tip through your folds. Instantly your head fell back with a ‘thunk’ when his fat tip glided through your slick and over your swollen clit.

Shikamaru let loose a low rumble deep in his chest at the feeling and grabbed the meat of your thigh that rested in his hold as he pushed forward once again. His cock finally pushed past the soaked, twitching ring of muscle and into your tight, wet heat. You both groaned at the feeling and he stopped himself from pushing all the way in. He had to remember that even though you’re an Omega, that your body was made for this, you were still so much smaller than him. He had to let you get used to his size, Kami knew it would be more than worth it. Your body tensed up when he initially entered and your hole quivered around him. Far sooner than he had assumed, you mewled a needy whine and shifted your hips as much as you could with the position you were in.

He had only put in a couple of inches to let you adjust but that proved to be not enough. You needed more. Shikamaru happily complied and slowly began sliding more of his thick cock into your greedy little hole. You hummed, pleased, and shifted your hips up to meet him until his hips were flush with yours. When you felt the barely-there swell at the base of his cock you shuddered with pleasure and bore your neck to him.

His Alpha preened at your show of submission and even more at the simple fact that he was properly pleasing an Omega. His Omega. His good little Omega who was being so pliant and obedient. A swell of pride bloomed in his chest with a rumbling growl that sent shocks down to your cunt and a shiver up your spine. Your body quivered around him and sent him into action. Shikamaru pulled his hips back slowly and steadily and snapped right back into you.

“Fuck, Omega…” He grunted, reveling in the way your cunt clung to his length, the tightness that wrapped around him. The gravelly tone of his voice appealed to your instincts in a way no Alpha had before. Though, to be fair, the only Alphas outside your family you’d been around were your classmates and Kami knew none of them were even close to as mature as the Shadow User. Your own Sensei was a good runner-up but something about the Alpha who was thrusting inside of you just adhered to your wants and instincts just right.

“You hear those pretty little noises? Fuck- Those cute little fuckin’ whines and whimpers? That’s how you know you’re doing it right.” Shikamaru— still a Sensei— remarked to his students, a near feral smirk on his face, especially when he glanced out the corner of his eye at them and saw the looks on their faces. The enamor and want on their faces called to the Alpha so thoroughly that he couldn’t help but lean even further into his instincts. He couldn’t help but feel pride and possessiveness over you so strongly that he hunched his body over yours to shield you from their wanting gazes.

He thrust wildly into you and let the rest of the world fall away, the only thing that mattered was you and how you felt wrapped around his cock. How you felt clenching around him. How you would feel spasming around his knot. He wanted to knot you. He wanted to breed you. He wanted to mate you.

In the midst of his thrusts, you felt a thrum of deep-seated yearning and need rush through you, stronger than it was before. Suddenly, you felt your body heating up and new waves of slick gushed out around his cock.

“Oh, fuck, Omega…” Shikamaru grunted, his hips stuttering for only a moment before he was reinvigorated and jackhammered into you with a new energy. “Feelin’ so fuckin’ good that she went into heat. Her body and her instincts picked up on a prime candidate for her Alpha and are fuckin’ calling out for me, for my knot.” He spoke, only partially even thinking about his students.

“Pl.. Please, Alpha..!” You whined, bearing your neck and clawing at his shoulders. A low growl escaped him and he hummed, satisfied with a smirk that curled his lips to show off his fangs, shiny with his drool as he looked at the completely untouched spot on your neck just begging for his bite.

“You want my knot? You want my bite? Huh? You wanna be mine, ‘Mega?” His tone was teasing but he also knew that you still had enough of your wits to answer honestly.

“Yes! Please, Alpha, want it! Want your knot! Wanna be yours! Wanna be your good Omega! Mate me! Breed me! Alpha!” Your heat fuzzed your mind just enough that you didn’t have the capacity to think about lying so you were more compelled to just spout what was truly on your mind. His cheeks flushed with heat but his thrusts remained full force and his grip on your thigh and waist tightened. He jolted forward with both his hips and his upper body and when his pelvis pressed flush against yours, he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your lips molded and tongues tangled as he swallowed your moans and met them with pleasured groans of his own.

His cock filled you up so perfectly, his size hitting all the right places and made you feel fuller than you ever had before. Even your heat toys weren’t as big as him. And through messily colliding lips and nearly uncontrollable moans, you communicated that. He swelled with pride and swiveled his head to lead an attack down your jaw and to your neck. As he laid kisses and nips on the span of flesh, your moans increased in volume and octave and your hips thrashed wildly against him. The knot in your lower belly was pulled so tight it felt like it would explode any moment. When he laved his tongue over the crook of your neck, it did.

“Alpha!!” You cried out as your cunt gushed around him and clamped tightly enough that he almost felt like he’d already knotted you.

“Fuuuck, Omega… So fucking tight. So good, such a good fucking girl for me, such a fucking good Omega.” He growled out against your skin and nipped at your neck, aiming to leave a dark mark as if like a precursor. The raven-haired man forced his dick to move through your vice grip and pulled back to slam back in. Again and again. Harder and harder.

“Please- Alpha-! Mate me! Breed me! Pleasepleaseplease-!” Your words slurred together as your little Omega claws dragged over his shoulders, leaving angry red marks that he decidedly would wear with pride. It was the final straw before he would give you a mark you would wear with pride.

With a glance shot at his students, Shikamaru dipped his head down and sunk his teeth into your neck. Right over your scent gland. The metallic taste flooded his mouth like an explosion when it hit. An explosion you shared as you came again. The feeling of his big Alpha fangs sinking into your flesh and the bond snapping into place sent you hurtling over the edge before you even realized you were close. Just as your pussy gushed around his cock for a second time, his knot fully expanded and he bullied it into your tight little hole. While his potent seed filled you to almost bursting, you didn’t register your voice coming out in a pleased cry.

He claimed you. He really claimed you. Your Alpha. Your big strong capable Alpha claimed you and knotted you. His big dick had already made a bulge in your tummy as he pounded into you and crashed into your cervix effortlessly. Then his cum inside you bulged you even more. You nearly looked heavy with pups already. His pups. Your Alpha’s pups. Your Alpha.

Your chest heaved with each heavy breath you took as Shikamaru still rutted his hips into you, plunging his cum that much deeper into your womb. You keened at the feeling and hummed in satisfaction with the feeling of his cum buried inside you, soothing the heat that hadn’t even fully embedded itself yet. Shikamaru Sensei lapped at your new bond mark, soothing the ache and cleaning up the blood. You shivered at the affection and let out a pleased purr that he responded to with a rumble of his own.

“And that’s how it’s fuckin’ done.” He growled proudly at his class, though he didn’t take his eyes off you. He dipped down and pressed another kiss to your lips and you could taste the residual metallic taste in his mouth as he licked into your mouth. “Now, if you want to complete it, which you should always do unless you want to be a piece of crap Alpha, you gotta have your Omega bond you, too. So, how about it, babygirl? You wanna gimme a mark like a good girl? My good girl?” There was a gravelly rumble to his voice that sent sparks down your spine and you shyly nodded. It brought a small smile to his face and he bore his neck to you, showing off the unmarred skin just waiting for a claim on his scent gland. He emitted a musky, undoubtedly mature scent that appealed to and enticed you wholly. It drew you in like a drug that you had no intentions of resisting.

You laved over his skin with little kitten licks and that clearly pleased him if the slight change in his scent and the rumbly purr in his chest was anything to go by. Opening your mouth as wide as you could, you leaned in and bit down as hard as you could to sink your teeth into his flesh, managing to puncture his thick skin with your little Omega fangs after a moment. The bond snapped into place again, wholly this time, and a sense of peace washed over you. You could feel how pleased he was with the outcome through your new bond and happily lapped at your bite that decorated his skin.

“So.. you’re like… really bonded now?” One of the chattier young Alphas-to-be spoke up from where he was fully leaned over the desk beside you.

“Yea. And if you play your cards right, you might be able to bond an Omega, too. Though, that really relies on if you paid attention or not. If not, you’re not gettin’ another demonstration and you’ll be doomed to be an incompetent Alpha for the rest of your days.” Shikamaru spoke lowly, purposely scaring the boy as a tactic to make sure he followed the lessons, particularly the first part of the etiquette lesson. “And yes, I’m aware that I pretty much skipped the main courting part, but this is a special situation. One that you more than likely won’t get to be in, so you make sure you follow that lesson. At the very least don’t be a dick.” He rolled his eyes a bit, though you giggled a bit at the show, able to tell that that’s all it was.

“Good Alpha…” You murmured, still just a touch too hazy to form a proper sentence, as you nosed at his neck. He turned his head back to you and nosed at your temple with a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m gonna be tied to my Omega for a while, so we’ll just continue the spoken portion of the lesson for now.” Your Alpha carefully picked you up and maneuvered you into a comfortable position in his lap as he sat in his chair before his class once again. Exhausted and satisfied, you curled into his chest and just listened to the rumble of his voice as he continued with his lesson.

He kept his arms secured around you and would press the occasional kiss to the top of your head and nosed at your hair to ensure you were still comfortable and came down smoothly. He explained that to the class and brought the atmosphere mostly back down to normal while he spoke about the domestic aspects of caring for an Omega and taking care of a mate. He touched on having a Beta partner but mostly kept explaining how to be a proper Alpha to an Omega.

“So make sure you don’t screw it up. I’ve explained it pretty damn clearly.” That brought a small smile to your face as you let yourself drift off into sleep against the firm, warm chest of your Alpha. You would later hear about when a fellow instructor walked in and saw him not only knotted in you but now mated to you and gave him an exasperated tongue lashing but overall just rolled their eyes at him and carried on. Many of the other Omegas in your class were envious and practically demanded gossip but life remained relatively the same, save for having a wonderful Alpha caring for you and taking every opportunity to dote on you, especially in front of his students.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Seo Changbin x F!Reader TW : reader suffers from migraines ; arguments ; i'm gonna make this one absolutely vicious, i love writing arguments ; angst of course as usual ; Word Count : 2.6k Request : @kurolils : I'll try not to give a lot of details cause it's your story not mine but I was thinking of something angsty (ofc wtf) with changbin (ofc wtf) , like the reader and him got into a really bad argument (you can decide the plot of that) and she has really bad migraines (I'm relating here) so when they're mad at each other, she doesn't want to be pushy pr clingy so she doesn't say anything to him but when the migraine gets like really bad, she calls him :) AN : migraines are so fricking bad and I hope yours don't affect you too badly :'( BUT! It definitely isn't abusive to send in another request, send in all the requests you want!!! I love it! I love your ideas! And Binnie definitely needs more attention in my ask box (and in my masterlist)!

Here comes another one, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to mentally ward off the sudden throbbing in your head, pinging right behind your eye. Just one more hour until you could get off work and go home, and then you’d see your boyfriend who always managed to make you feel better… Although you weren’t sure if the migraine actually went away or if his presence alone was enough to have you forgetting that it was there in the first place. 

“Is it bothering you again?” Your coworker asked, leaning across the counter that you had been slouched over, trying to block out anything that would only add to the pain in your head. You simply grunted in agreement, not daring to lift your head, worried that the bright fluorescent lights would only trigger the migraine to start full force once again. “It’s dead here today, you can go home if you want. I’m sure the last thing you want to deal with are customers.” 

He was right, the store was always dead at the beginning of the week, and you hated being scheduled those days. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?” You asked, your head still buried in your arms. He hummed softly in agreement, gently patting your shoulder before making his way around to the back of the counter to take your spot. “Thanks… I’ll cover one of your shifts if you ever need me to.” You said as quietly as possible, worried that your own voice meeting your ears would only worsen the throbbing in your head. 

“Don’t worry about that, just text me when you get home so I know you made it there okay.” And you nodded to his words, pulling your sunglasses out of your bag and placing them on before walking out of the store. He was always so nice, he looked out for you, and in a way, he reminded you a lot of your boyfriend, that’s why it was so easy to get so close to him. You’d have to remember to thank him when you got home, but all that was on your mind right now was the pleasant thought of going home, closing all the blinds, and waiting that extra hour for Changbin to get home so you could cuddle up next to him. 

You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep on the couch, but you were actually quite happy that you did. By the time Changbin walked through the front door and your eyes slowly opened, it felt like you were in the clear, the banging pain in your head had all but completely subsided. “You’re home early.” Changbin commented, noticing that all the windows had been practically blacked out by the shutters and the shades, he knew what it meant, and he kept his voice as low as possible as he kicked off his shoes and walked over to the couch where you were laying. “Did it get bad again?” 

Slowly nodding your head, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and stretched, ready to make room for Changbin to scoot in beside you. “Jaemin saw that I was hurting and he said I could go home… Oh… Shit, I have to text him to thank him.” You muttered, pulling your phone out and unlocking it, so focused on sending out the text that you didn’t even hear Changbins sigh of annoyance. “Did you want to order something to eat and watch a movie or something?” You asked after sending out the text, placing your phone down on the coffee table and scooting over. 

“Why don’t you just ask Jaemin to come over and watch the movie with you.” Changbin mumbled, eyeing the spot that you made beside yourself for him to sit in before dropping down into the recliner behind him. “He can even take you out to a fancy dinner or something.” The thumping in your head was slowly returning, accompanied by the pounding of your heart that you could hear in your ears, although you weren’t sure if it was racing because you were upset or because you were angry. 

Changbin had never made such accusations before, and while he hadn’t flat out accused you of such a thing, you could read into his words and his tone and you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just being ridiculous.” You muttered, deciding to stretch out on the couch once more since he was being that way. “Do you want to order dinner or not?” You asked, not even bothering to open your eyes as you asked the question. 

“I don’t know, maybe we should ask Jaemin what he wants just in case he comes over to check on you.” Changbin snidely retorted and your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you let out a small huff of air through your nose. “Or maybe… maybe I should just go back to the dorms and you and Jaemin can enjoy a nice little dinner in my house watching my TV.” He sounded so cocky and truthfully it was disgusting, and it made your head hurt worse. 

“I’d argue with you, I’d give you that satisfaction if my head wasn’t already pounding… But you knew that when you came in and you continue to bicker. So maybe you should leave, or maybe I should leave. Clearly you’ve got some shit going on, and truthfully, I can’t fucking handle it right now.” You snapped, taking a deep breath and sinking deeper into the cushions of the sofa, waiting to hear the sound of the recliner moving back into place when Changbin got up, but it was silent. Was he just going to sit there and continue the foolish argument until your head felt like it was going to explode? 

The short answer… Yes. Yes he would. “If I leave you’ll just have him come over… And if you leave, you’ll just run to him. Either way you and him are getting exactly what you want, right? Why string me along if he’s so much better? Huh?” You honestly didn’t know where this was coming from, but the more he assumed, the angrier you got. 

“You know what? It’s fucking bullshit that you come in here, pretending to give a shit about me, saying shit like… like people at my work should be more understanding of what I go through… And then when there’s one fucking employee who does notice, who does understand, you jump to these batshit insane conclusions that couldn’t be further from the truth. Nothing will make you happy! My head hurts enough already, and then trying to think of ways to fucking please you only makes it hurt worse. So if you’re going to just keep coming at me, I’d rather you not… Or at least wait until I can take another ibuprofen and my headache clears up enough to handle more of your bullshit.” You snapped, your voice cracking as your throat closed up. You were on the verge of tears, although it wasn’t from being upset, it was from being angry and in pain and you just wanted to sleep it all away. 

“You know what, I’ll just go.” Changbins hands flew up in the air before slapping down against his lap as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Make sure Jaemin takes his shoes off before he walks on my carpet though.” He always had to have that last word, the last jab of the knife. If you had the energy, you would have flipped him off, but you were just exhausted. You didn’t have the energy to fight, you didn’t even want to fight, he had started it. It wasn’t until you heard the front door slam shut that you finally let yourself cry, but even that was tiresome, and you ended up just crying yourself to sleep. 

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed, but you were happy to see that the sun had finally set, unless it was in the wee hours of the morning and it was just about to rise. That happiness quickly died when you remembered what had happened right before you fell asleep, the sudden lonely feeling and the feeling of emptiness shrouding you like a cloak as you looked around the empty apartment.

At the moment, it didn’t matter though. You knew that he was okay, he was probably at the dorms with the guys having a great time to get his mind off of what he thought was going on. Meanwhile, you still hadn’t eaten and your stomach was now growling at you to feed it. You could get through the rest of the night without him, maybe it was for the best if you both had some distance from each other as much as you hated it. 

You thought you’d be okay, you were okay, you had made it to the kitchen, you had gotten the food out of the fridge, you had managed to even start preparing it, but then, as if from out of the dark, it kicked in again. This time it was worse, or maybe it just felt worse because everything else that was going on. It truly felt like your head had been slammed into a brick wall and your vision became blurry and you felt sick and everything was just awful and you couldn’t help but cry as you dropped down to the kitchen floor, your knees curling against your chest, your hand fumbling for your phone in your pocket as you called the only person you knew could help. 

“Look, I said that I’d leave. You said you wanted space. I don’t want to argue, I think we should just talk about this-” 

“B-Binnie…” You whimpered, sniffling loudly as your body trembled, trying not to throw up, trying so hard to not focus on the pain, but trying not to focus only made it hurt worse. His end was quiet though, aside from the distant murmuring of some of the guys, although you couldn’t make it out, especially considering you were breathing so heavily from crying, the only thing you could really hear was your own whimpers and sobs. “Please come home…” 

The sound of a car door, and then the revving of an engine. “I’m coming, sweetheart, just stay where you’re at. Where are you right now? What were you doing?” It was the Binnie that you knew and loved speaking right now, but it was so different from the Changbin that had sat across from you in the living room just a little while ago. Right now you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you simply needed him there with you, his voice soft and sweet as he talked you through the pain. 

“Kitchen… I… I was hungry…” You stammered, and then you hiccuped, the sudden jolt seemingly shifting your stomach and causing you to retch. “S-Sorry…” You whispered, and you heard Changbin sigh softly, although you weren’t sure if it sounded that way because he pulled his phone away or if he was just trying to be quiet because he knew what was going on. 

“I’ll be home shortly, and then I’ll order us something to eat. You remember what we talked about the last time this happened and I wasn’t there? You remember what I told you to do?” He was trying his best to keep your mind off of the ache, and it was working in a way, your mind now trying to clear the fog to think about what you’d do if this happened while he was on tour. He’d sit on the phone with you for hours, and if he was in the middle of a show while it happened, he had set up his voicemail just for you so you could listen to his voice to help you a little bit until he could call you back. “Just listen to me talk and…-” 

“And take deep breaths…” You sputtered out, your breaths coming a little bit too quickly right now which wasn’t helping in the nausea department. “Count to ten…” You continued, squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could as you tried to visualize the numbers popping up in your head while listening to him talk. He wasn’t really talking about anything in particular, his voice was just something for you to focus on, something to calm you in a way. 

It wasn’t long… or maybe it was… until Changbin came walking through the front door. The entire apartment was pitch black, but he knew that flicking on any lights would only make things worse, so he used his phone screen to shine a light across the floor until he made it to the kitchen where you were still sitting curled up against the cabinets. “Did you take your medicine today?” He asked as he squatted down on the floor next to you, his hand wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead that you didn’t even notice had built up. 

Your medicine, which you often forgot to take, especially when you were in a hurry, had just now crossed your mind now that Changbin had brought it up. “No…” You mumbled sheepishly, and he tsked his tongue, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it right now. Instead, he helped you to your feet, but once you were on them, he gently lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom and then carefully laying you down. 

“I don’t want you to take it now… You have to take it in the morning…” He whispered, and although the room was dark, you could tell he wasn’t looking at you because you couldn’t see the moon reflected in the whites of his eyes. “I’m sorry… For the way I acted. It was uncalled for, and I got jealous… Stupidly jealous. I just… I don’t like the idea of another guy taking care of you. It kind of pisses me off…” 

“Kind of?” You questioned, and you would have laughed if the situation didn’t feel so serious. “You walked out on me… That hurt, Binnie…” You softly explained as shortly as possible. “I’d like to think that I make it perfectly clear that I love you… Only you… You’re the only person I want to take care of me…” You reached out in the darkness, your hand brushing along his back where you could feel the outline of his muscles that you mapped with your fingertips. 

“You do… You do.” He repeated himself, running his hands over his face, and you felt him shiver slightly from your touch. “I know you love me… I know you feel that way… I just… I want to be the only person that takes care of you, the only person who looks out for you. Sometimes I feel like… Like since I’m gone so much… You’ll find someone else to take care of you like I should.” 

“Bin…” You sighed out his name, pushing yourself up onto your knees and draping your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck and placing light kisses against his skin. “I don’t want anyone else to take care of me… You’re the only person that can calm me, that can soothe me. You’re the only one that can ever make me feel better. I don’t want anyone but you.” His silence let you know that he was thinking, and you didn’t want him thinking anything bad, so you pulled him to lay down, laying on top of him to trap him-although you knew he could move you if he wanted to-and pulling the blanket up around the both of you. 

“I’ll do better… I’ll be better…” He whispered, his fingers dancing along the small of your back. “I’m sorry I upset you… I’m so sorry, sweetheart…” He apologized again, placing a kiss to the top of your head before settling into his pillow again. “I’m not leaving again, I’ll stay right here with you, forever and ever.” 

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point. 

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some. 

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day. 

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din. 

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display. 

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.” 

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.” 

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?” 

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.” 

She chuckles, “can be.” 

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.” 

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.” 

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.” 

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?” 

“Well, he’s... called in.” 

“Again?” You whine as you face her. 

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs. 

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?” 

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.” 

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?” 

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking. 

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time. 

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful. 

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best. 

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill. 

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting. 

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte. 

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask. 

“Who?” She furrows her brow. 

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.” 

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?” 

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?” 

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.” 

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.” 

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.” 

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.” 

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth. 

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.” 

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not. 

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him. 

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him. 

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone. 

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch. 

“How are you today?” You ask. 

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.” 

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.” 

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit. 

“Of course, I always do,” you smile. 

“And last time?” 

“Last time...” 

“Twice.” 

You’re confused. What is he talking about? 

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--” 

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely. 

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around. 

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.” 

[blueishspace]

The Watchers court p4

Martyn: Court is back in session!

BigB: Who is the witness?

Martyn: Right, Philza Minecraft.

Grian: The Hardcore guy?

Martyn: Yeah.

Pearl: That one guy that looks like he's your cousin?

Martyn: ... Yeah.

Grian: Witness, have anything else to add about yourself?

Phil: No.

*in the jury*

Kristin: Oohhh! It's Phil!

Squiddo: Oh! Who's that?

Kristin: My husband.

Squiddo: I see!

E1!Jimmy: I miss my husband Squiddo, I miss him a lot.

Squiddo: What happened to him?

E1!Jimmy: He killed himself to stop his evil brother.

Squiddo: ...oh.

Phil: So?

Grian: Right, prosecution you may begin with your examination.

Tubbo: PhilZa.

Phil: Toby. It's been a while.

Tubbo: Yes ... Well, this isn't about us, It's about Dream.

Phil: What about him?

Grian: Prosecution wanted you as witness to Dream's stalking in the past.

Phil: Oh I can do that. You see, Dream here is a son of a bitch. One day I see Tommy running to my base which is weird considering Doomsday and Dream is running after him like a psycopath.

Tubbo: He was running after Tommy?

Phil: That's what I got from it, apparently Tommy was searching for something in his exile place and Dream was there and started running after him.

Tubbo: So then, was Dream waiting for Tommy?

Phil: I think so mate, why?

Tubbo: Then, he probably must have been following Tommy for a while right?

Punz: Objection! Leading the witness!

Tubbo: How do you think he could have known that Tommy was going to be there?

Phil: ... He was probably following him before that.

Punz: And- well, how could you possibly know he was running after him.

Phil: Because he was after Tommy. And he was running.

Punz: Well, what if Tommy was hiding something about the story?

Phil: Could have been a possibilty if Dream hadn't done the same before.

Pearl: Wait wait wait. He did something similiar before?

Phil: Techno said so, he would go near our base and observe like a creep.

Punz: Well... well, he could have been lying-

Phil: Techno would not lie to me.

Punz: ... But.

Phil: No.

BigB: Ehm, well... Does the prosecution have anything else to add?

Tommy: Oh? Uh... no?

Tubbo: I do.

Tommy: You do?

Tubbo: Tommy ...maybe It's best if you sit this part out.

Tommy: Oh... yeah I'll just go now.

Pearl: What was that about?

Tubbo: I call ... *sigh in disgust* The Warden to the witness stand.

Sam: Oh? Where am I? Tubbo what are you doing-?

Tubbo: I don't want to hear you, don't waste time.

Sam: Why are we in a courtroo- DREAM!??

Tubbo: That's why.

Grian: And why is he here?

Tubbo: I'll explain bossman. He is here as witness to Dream's murder of Tommy.

*the watchers in the crowd oohs, Dream's knuckles are white in stress*

Sam: Tommy was visiting the prison when it happened.

Tubbo: What did?

Sam: Ranboo.

Tubbo: ... What.

Sam: Ranboo triggered the prisons defences and caused the prison to go into lockdown.

Grian: Lockdown? What is that?

Sam: The prison locks to lower the chances of the prisoner escaping.

Punz: And did it work out? *Smirks*

Sam: ... It did not.

BigB: Go back to the murder? Please?

Sam: Right.

*In the jury*

Kristin: You don't mind if I tp Phil here do you?

Voice of The Star: No?

Kristin: Perfect!

Sam: I didn't notice it at first but a fight started...

Tubbo: A fight?

Sam: Well, it was extremely one sided... Tommy must have angered Dream because he started beating him.

Pearl: And he died?

Sam: Yes, it was...

Tubbo: You don't need to describe it ... And do you have tape of it?

Sam: Yes, yes I do. I register everything in the prison.

Grian: ... Taurtis?

Taurtis: Getting the video!

Grian: Thanks... And Martyn.

Martyn: I'll go grab Tommy.

Martyn: And that concludes the witness testimonies.

Grian: Finally, that lasted forever.

Pearl: C'mon mate, It wasn't that bad.

BigB: Well It's finally over.

Jimmy: My hands hurt from writing.

Martyn: Jury? Have you come to a decision?

*in the jury*

Squiddo: Definitely guilty.

Kristin: Guilty of course.

Knight!Grian: I found the defendant... guilty of all counts.

Voice of The Star: Oh yeah, he's absolutely guilty.

E1!Jimmy: GUILTY!

Martyn: Dream Was Taken, you have been found... GUILTY!

Dream: Ugh. Punz, what did I pay you for!?

Punz: It's not my fault-

Pearl: Order!

Punz: ...

Martyn: What are you sentences your honours.

BigB: I sentence Dream to be stripped of his admin and mod status which will be given to Philza Minecraft in the meantime.

Dream: ... no.

Pearl: I sentence the defendant with 6 lifetimes in the void cells and 10 lifetimes of mandatory therapy.

Dream: ...No!

Grian: And I sentence him with the redistribution of his assets and propery between Tommy and Tubbo as well as a fine of 5 stacks of diamond blocks to the court for making us waste time on this. We also have proof of you possessing a revival book, the book will be taken and your memories of It's working erased. Lastly but not leastly... You will be made immortal for the duration of your sentence to fully experience Pearl's punishment.

Dream: NO!

Tommy: FUCK YEAH! TAKE THAT GREEN BITCH!

*Two Watchers drag Dream away*

BigB: Well then... court is out of session.

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