Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 1
Summary: You never thought Aegon be like this. You though that he's probably like all the other rich kids who are only upset because daddy didn't given them money. But you couldn't have been more wrong...
˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
He hadn't said a word since entering the room, only slouched low in his chair, his bloodshot eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling like he was watching something she couldn’t see. His bleach-blonde hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it in days, and the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept in even longer.
The silence was unnerving, and she hated it. The ticking clock in the corner of the room sounded like gunfire in the stillness. She cleared her throat and tried to start professionally. "Aegon," she began, her voice soft but steady, "how are you feeling today?"
He chuckled—a low, grating sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "How am I feeling?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't that a bit cliché? Isn’t that what all therapists ask? I’m not here for small talk, sweetheart."
The way he said sweetheart made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the word itself but the way it slithered off his tongue, sharp and mocking. She shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her calm. "I’m just trying to understand where you’re at. You don't have to say anything you don’t want to."
He smirked, a twisted, unsettling expression that seemed more like a grimace. "Oh, I bet you want to understand me. You think you're gonna fix me? Is that it? Make me better, turn me into a functioning little cog in this shitty world?"
There was an edge to his voice, something dangerous beneath the surface. His eyes were unfocused, distant, as though she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt a chill settle in her chest, but she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was just another patient. A deeply troubled one, yes, but still just a man. She was trained for this.
"I’m not here to fix you, Aegon," she replied carefully. "I’m here to listen and help if I can."
His head snapped toward her so quickly she flinched. He caught it, of course, and his grin widened, predatory now. "You’re scared of me, aren’t you?" he said softly, like he was sharing a secret. "Good. You should be."
Aegon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at her with intensity that made her skin prickle. "You ever felt like nothing matters, doc? Like every fucking thing is just… pointless? No matter how much you drink, snort, or fuck, it never fills that hole inside you. It just… eats at you, every second of every day, until you can't take it anymore."
His voice was a low growl now, rough around the edges, filled with bitterness. "That's what it’s like in here." He tapped the side of his head, his gaze boring into her, daring her to look away. "Rotten. Empty. Dead. I tried to end it once, you know. Got close, too. But they wouldn’t even let me do that right. My family sent me to you instead. So now here I am, playing the part. But let’s be real—you can't fix this."
There was a rawness to his words that cut through her usual defenses. Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of something she didn’t want to fall into. His pain was palpable, but it wasn’t the pain of someone who wanted to be saved.
"You don't have to believe in this process," she finally said, her voice tight. "But it’s important that you give it a chance."
Aegon tilted his head, studying her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes were glassy, unfocused again, and his smile faltered, giving way to something deeper, more sinister. "You’re not like the others," he muttered, almost to himself. "Most of them are easy to read. But you… I can't quite tell if you’re really here to help or if you just like playing the part."
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something unnervingly perceptive about him. He wasn’t just a lost soul spiraling into self-destruction—he was calculating, watching her reactions, testing her boundaries. And it was working. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt under his gaze.
Y/N straightened in her chair, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I’m here to help, Aegon. That’s my job."
He scoffed, leaning back again, dismissive. "Help," he repeated bitterly. "You wanna help? You can't even help yourself."
His words hit harder than she expected, striking at something deep inside her, and for a moment, she faltered. She wasn’t prepared for how sharp he was, how quickly he cut through her professional veneer. There was something primal in the way he spoke, in the way he moved, that felt less like therapy and more like a predator playing with his prey.
"You look tired," he continued, eyes narrowing. "Overworked. You got that hollow look in your eyes, too. Like me. How long before you break, huh? How long before you’re the one on the other side of this desk?"
Her breath hitched slightly, and Aegon’s smile grew wider, more triumphant. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Maybe we’re not so different after all, doc. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as I am."
Y/N’s hand trembled, and she clenched it into a fist, trying to steady herself. She needed to end this session—now. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. "Our time is almost up," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We’ll continue this next week."
She checked the clock. He was due in ten minutes.
Her hand brushed the edge of her desk, fingers drumming a quiet, nervous rhythm. She told herself it would be fine. She had control. This was her space, her field. But the knot in her stomach tightened with every second that passed.
A knock on the door broke the silence. Her heart leapt in her chest.
"Come in" she called, trying to keep her voice steady.
The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame, eyes half-lidded like he couldn't be bothered to care about anything. Aegon strolled into the room with an easy arrogance, tossing himself into the chair like he owned the place. He wore the same leather jacket from last week, cigarette burns dotting its sleeve, his jeans ripped and filthy. His disheveled blonde hair caught the afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic glow, which was disturbingly ironic.
"Doc" he greeted, his voice slick and lazy. "Miss me?"
Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze. "Aegon," she said calmly, ignoring his provocations. "How are you feeling today?"
He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room. "Oh, I'm fantastic. Just spent the last few hours getting plastered. Wanna guess how much vodka it takes before you stop feeling like your head is caving in?"
She hesitated. "Did you... did you drink before coming here?"
Aegon gave her a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Nah, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sober enough to remember your name. For now."
He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving hers. "But seriously, let's cut the bullshit. You're not here to ask me how I'm doing. You're here to dissect me, right? Get inside my head. See what makes the fucked-up bitch tick."
Y/N's throat tightened at the way he said bitch-dripping with disdain, self-hatred. His family, the Targaryens, were a wealthy, powerful lineage, tied up politics and scandal. She'd heard the rumors: how Aegon was the black sheep, a public embarrassment, the one they all whispered about behind closed doors. It wasn't hard to see why.
"I'm here to help," she said, trying to regain control of the session. "But that only works if you're willing to engage with the process."
His smirk widened. "You think l'm not engaging? l'm sitting right here, aren't I?" He paused, his gaze growing more intense. "Unless what you really want is for me to spill my guts to you. You want to know what makes me tick, doc? Fine. Let me tell you."
There was something unsettling about the way he shifted in his chair, like a predator getting comfortable before striking. His smile faded, replaced with a cold, hollow expression that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I hate everything," he began, his voice flat, detached. "I hate waking up. I hate breathing. I hate the sound of my own fucking voice. I hate this-" He gestured around the room, his fingers trembling slightly."一all this therapy bullshit. I hate my family. I hate the way they look at me like l'm some broken toy they can't fix."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you know what I really hate? The fact that no matter what I do, nothing makes me feel alive. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? It's just noise. All of it. And I'm so fucking tired of feeling empty."
His words hung in the air like smoke, choking the room. Y/N felt the urge to recoil, to put some distance between them, but she couldn't. There was something magnetic about him, a dark pull that made it hard to look away.
"You think I want to be here?" he continued, his eyes burning with intensity. "My family dragged me to this fucking place because I tried to put a bullet in my brain last month. They thought therapy would 'fix' me. But they don't get it. They never did."
He leaned back, letting out a bitter laugh. "But you know what's funny? Sitting here, looking at you, I almost want to believe it. l almost want to see if you can figure me out, doc. Maybe you'll crack the code."
His eyes bored into hers, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw something vulnerable flicker behind the mask- something raw and desperate. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold sneer.
"You think you can handle that?" he asked softly. "Think you can fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?"
Y/N's grip on her pen tightened. Her throat felt dry, her palms clammy. There was no easy answer to his question, no textbook response to the way he twisted everything around him into chaos. But she knew one thing-Aegon wasn't just here to be saved. He was here to test her, to see how far he could push before she cracked.
"l'm not here to fix you, Aegon,' she said, repeating her earlier sentiment. "But I am here to listen. To understand."
He snorted, shaking his head. "Listen to what? My sob story? Poor little rich boy, drinking and fucking his way through life, all because he's sad? You really think there's anything left to understand?"
Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "I think there's more to you than what you're showing me."
Aegon went still, his smirk vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, it felt like the room shrank, the walls closing in, leaving just the two of them in an uncomfortable silence. He stared at her, unblinking, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.
"You really believe that?" he asked quietly, his voice soft for the first time since he walked in. "That there's something worth saving?"
Her chest tightened, but she nodded. "I do."
Aegon let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. His eyes darted to the floor, and for a split second, he looked vulnerable, lost, like a boy drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't control.
But then the mask was back. The smirk. The mocking tone. "Well, doc" he said, standing up suddenly, towering over her. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"
He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements confident and careless, as though he hadn't just let her glimpse the broken pieces hidden beneath the surface.
Just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at her. "I'll be seeing you again, doc. And maybe next time, we'll get to the fun stuff."
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the room with the heavy silence that always followed him. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her heart pounding in her chest.
There was something deeply unsettling about Aegon一something that made her feel like she was in way over her head.
The third session was different. The air in Y/N’s office felt heavier, thicker. She could sense it the moment Aegon walked in. His eyes, normally sharp with that mocking edge, were duller today. His movements more erratic. The usual arrogant saunter was replaced by something twitchy, unstable. He slouched into his chair, tapping his leg rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic.
His fingers moved to his mouth, picking at his nails, tearing at the skin until she saw faint streaks of red. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.
“Good morning, Aegon,” Y/N began cautiously, watching him closely. “How are you today?”
He snorted but didn’t look at her, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for something he’d never find. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he muttered, biting down hard on the side of his nail until it cracked and blood welled up.
Y/N felt her stomach twist, but she kept her voice steady. “It seems like you’re on edge today. Do you want to talk about it?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His leg tapped faster, his jaw tight. “Does it even fucking matter?” he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he dug his nails into his palms, leaving angry red marks. "None of this shit matters. Not you, not me. It’s all just... noise."
She stayed silent, giving him space to speak, watching his body language as the tension in the room escalated. He was unraveling, fraying at the edges, and it was becoming harder to predict where he might break.
“I keep thinking about that night,” he said suddenly, his voice hollow. “That night I almost did it.”
He didn’t need to explain further; she knew what he meant. The night he tried to take his own life.
“I was this close, you know?” he continued, holding his fingers up to show just how narrow the gap was between life and death. “But then my fucking family showed up and ruined it. Dragged me out of my misery and threw me into this shitshow. Therapy, rehab, whatever else they think will fix me. But nothing’s going to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just done.”
Y/N swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Aegon, I know you’re in pain. But there are other ways to cope. You don’t have to do this alone.”
He snapped his gaze to hers, a sudden wildness flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this is about pain. It’s about being fucking empty. Do you know what that feels like? To be so hollow inside that no amount of drugs, booze, or people can fill it?”
She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “I don’t,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended. “But I’m here to understand. If you’ll let me.”
Aegon’s laughter was bitter, almost manic. “Understand? You think you can understand me? No one understands. Everyone thinks I’m some tragic fucking mess just because I have money and a pretty face, but that’s why they keep coming back, isn’t it? They don’t care if I’m broken. They care because I’m rich, because I’m still good-looking enough for them to pretend for a night that I’m something more.”
He paused, his leg still bouncing, eyes narrowed and locked on hers with unsettling intensity. “Even you. You sit there, all composed and professional, pretending to care. But deep down, I know you don’t. You’re just waiting for your paycheck like the rest of them.”
Y/N frowned. “That’s not true, Aegon. I’m here because I want to help.”
He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes wild and feverish. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this matters! You can’t help me, no one can, and I’m so fucking tired of everyone pretending that you can!”
The energy in the room shifted abruptly. His voice rose, turning sharp and angry, his breathing quickening. She could see him unraveling, could feel the way his entire demeanor was changing—darker, more dangerous.
“I’m not some fucking experiment!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he stood up from his chair so suddenly that it toppled over. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Sitting there with your calm face, acting like you’re not fucking scared of me. But I can see it, I can feel it—”
“Aegon, calm down,” Y/N said, her heart racing, hands instinctively tightening around the arms of her chair. “I’m not trying to control you.”
But her words seemed to push him further over the edge. His face twisted with rage, and before she could react, he lunged toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his grip almost painful.
“You think you know me?” he shouted, his face inches from hers, tears welling in his eyes. “You think you can fix me? You think you can save me from this hell?”
His grip tightened, shaking her, but before Y/N could register her own fear, something inside her snapped—an instinct she hadn’t known she had. Instead of pulling away, instead of screaming or trying to push him off, she reached out and pulled him into an embrace.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly despite the tremor in her own hands, despite the rapid pounding of her heart. “Aegon,” she whispered, her voice steady even though she felt anything but. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
For a moment, he stood there, tense and unresponsive. His body was rigid, his breathing erratic, and she could feel the anger vibrating through him, threatening to explode again. But then, slowly, something shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders so tightly, loosened. His body sagged against hers, like all the fight had drained out of him in one overwhelming rush.
“I’m not okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Y/N tightened her arms around him, feeling his hot, uneven breath against her neck. “You don’t have to stop it alone.”
He let out a choked sob, his body trembling against hers as he broke down, the tears he had been holding back spilling over. He clung to her like a lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each quiet, painful sob.
“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”
Y/N held him, her own emotions swirling inside her, a mixture of fear, pity, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stroked his back gently, trying to soothe the storm inside him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you don’t.”
Aegon’s sobs quieted after a while, his grip on her softening but never letting go completely. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, but calmer now. The anger and violence had passed, leaving only the raw, vulnerable boy beneath.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours—Aegon clinging to her, and Y/N holding him as if her arms were the only thing tethering him to the world.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, and for the first time since they met, she saw him without the mask.
Aegon was broken, but not in the way he pretended to be. Not just a reckless addict or a wealthy, self-destructive mess. He was something else, something much more fragile than she had imagined.
And that scared her more than anything.
He swallowed hard, his voice a quiet rasp. “W-why did you do that?”
Y/N met his gaze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know why. It was instinct, something she hadn’t planned, something that felt both right and terribly dangerous at the same time.
“Because I wanted to,” she said softly.
Aegon stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to find something—some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him like everyone else had.
Finally, he nodded, and without another word, he leaned back into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, his breathing evening out as they sat there, together in the quiet, broken pieces of their shared moment.
And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she was the one trying to save him—or if he was dragging her into the darkness with him.
The room was eerily silent when Aegon walked in this time. The familiar twitch in his leg was absent, the nervous energy that usually radiated off him replaced with something else—something that made Y/N’s skin prickle. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, but now they were focused. Too focused. He looked at her with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.
He sat down slowly, his movements no longer erratic but deliberate. He didn’t fidget, didn’t bite at his nails. Instead, he folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Good morning, Aegon,” she greeted him cautiously, sensing the shift in his demeanor.
“Morning,” he replied, his voice smoother than she was used to. Calm, almost unnervingly so. He looked... composed. For the first time since they started these sessions, he didn’t seem like a bomb waiting to go off. But something about that felt even more dangerous.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on hers. “Better,” he said softly. “Much better, actually.”
Y/N hesitated. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to talk about what’s been helping?”
Aegon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve found a new hobby,” he said, his voice almost too casual, like he was talking about something mundane. “Something to keep me... occupied.”
A ripple of unease washed over her. “What kind of hobby?”
Aegon nodded, his eyes gleaming with an odd sort of excitement. “I found this beautiful dove. Just… sitting there, all alone. She's perfect. White feathers, soft. You ever touch a dove before?”
“No,” Y/N said slowly, her stomach beginning to churn.
Aegon’s smile widened. “You should. They’re so fragile, you know? So delicate. It’s like… like holding something that could break if you squeeze too hard.” His fingers twitched, as if mimicking the act of squeezing. “I’ve been taking care of her. Watching her.”
Y/N nodded slowly, unsure where this was going but feeling an icy tendril of dread curl around her spine. “That sounds nice. Taking care of something can be a good way to—”
“I want to rip her wings off.”
Her breath caught in her throat, the casual cruelty in his tone sending a chill down her spine. Aegon’s expression hadn’t changed; he still wore that same unsettling smile.
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
His eyes were bright now, shining with an eerie intensity. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About how beautiful she is, but how much better it would be if she couldn’t fly away. If I could keep her with me, forever. If she couldn’t go anywhere else, just… mine.”
Y/N felt the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, keeping her voice steady. “Aegon, that’s—”
“Isn’t that what love is?” he interrupted, his eyes wide, his expression so sincere, so disturbingly genuine. “You love something so much that you can’t stand the thought of it leaving. So you do whatever you have to, to make sure it stays. Even if that means taking something away. Like wings.”
“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he continued, his voice rising slightly with excitement, as if he had stumbled upon some great revelation. “Why should something so beautiful get to leave? Why should she get to fly away and leave me behind? She doesn’t need wings. She just needs me.”
Y/N felt the room closing in around her, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She had dealt with disturbed patients before, but this… this was different. Aegon wasn’t just unstable. He was dangerous. She could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze bore into her, in the way his words seemed to twist around her, suffocating her.
It had been two weeks since that conversation in her office, and Aegon had come to every session since. Something had shifted after that day—something subtle but unnerving.
The way he looked at her now, the way he lingered on her every movement, made Y/N feel more vulnerable than ever before.
“Morning, Aegon,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her pulse quickening slightly. She had grown used to reading him in subtle ways—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would twitch against his leg, and that obsessive stare. But today, it felt heavier.
“Morning sweetheart,” he replied smoothly, his voice quiet but deliberate.
Y/N tried to proceed with the session as usual, asking him questions, probing his thoughts, but his answers were vague, almost detached, as if he wasn’t really interested in discussing himself anymore. He wasn’t playing the part of the tragic, self-destructive mess. He was... different.
“You seem a little more composed today,” Y/N commented, keeping her tone neutral. “How are you feeling about everything? Still feeling as empty as before?”
Aegon’s lips twitched into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Empty? No, not so much anymore.” His gaze was fixed on her in a way that made the room feel smaller. “I’ve been... paying attention to other things lately. Other people.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Other people? What do you mean?”
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glued to hers, but his body language more relaxed than usual. “You know, the people around me. The ones who matter. The ones who actually care.”
There was an implication in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. “And who do you think cares, Aegon?”
His smile widened, but it was the kind of smile that felt wrong, too intimate. “You do.”
Y/N blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself that she was the professional here, that this was her job, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. But the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.
“I’m here to help you, yes,” she replied calmly. “That’s what therapy is about.”
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken again. “You care about me... in a different way.”
Y/N felt her skin prickle with unease. She forced herself to remain professional, to push through the growing discomfort. “Aegon, we’ve talked about this before. My role is to help you as your therapist. Nothing more.”
His smile didn’t falter. “You keep saying that, but we both know there’s more to it. I can see the way you look at me now. You’re not scared anymore. What you said. How you held me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You care.”
“I’m here to help,” she repeated firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.
Aegon didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched her, his eyes tracking every movement, every flicker of emotion on her face. It was like he was dissecting her with his gaze, trying to pick her apart piece by piece.
Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. “You looked really good last night, by the way.”
Y/N’s breath hitched. “What?”
“In your pajamas,” he added, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. “The ones you wore when you made tea. Light blue, with the little lace trim. You really should wear those more often.”
For a moment, the world around her went silent. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Aegon was staring at her, unblinking, his expression disturbingly calm, like he had just complimented her on her shoes or her hair.
Her mind raced. How did he know? There was no way he could have seen her last night. Her apartment was on the third floor, and she lived alone. She had made tea before bed, just like every night, but how could he possibly know that?
“Aegon,” she began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “What... what do you mean?”
He just smiled, that same disturbing smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I just think you looked nice, that’s all.”
The room felt like it was closing in on her, her skin crawling with the weight of his words. Her mind reeled, her heart hammering in her chest. How did he know what I was wearing last night?
Her breath came in shallow gasps, the panic rising in her throat as she tried to process the implications. Had he been watching her? Was he following her outside of their sessions? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.
“Aegon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”
But before he could answer, the soft chime of the clock signaled the end of their session. Aegon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched, glancing at her with that same unsettling smile, and then made his way to the door.
“I guess we’ll have to pick this up next time,” he said casually, as if they had been discussing nothing more than the weather.
He paused at the door, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on her with that same unnerving intensity. “See you soon, Y/N.”
And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.
The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, as the weight of his words sank in.
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
