#re-parenting myself currently

[onlyformywriting]

i'm giving myself 3 months to decide whether this part-time job thing is going to work out for me. i am being very negative about it. it is my instinct to be this way about things that i am uncomfortable with and about. i HATE being the newbie. i HATE learning new processes because i want to do everything perfectly from the get-go, which is an unrealistic expectation i have on myself. but until i can make more money in my full time job then i have to have a part-time job. it will be a good way to get out of the house and make some money. it can be temporary. it does not need to be life or self-defining. it is just a season of my life. it's okay.

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[theveryworstthing]

I'm Alive

I posted this on patreon so I might as well post it again here. Hopefully current and past patrons see this as well as people who have just been generally curious about where I've been.

I'm very sorry for not being around and I'm very grateful to those who stuck around. To those who didn't, I get it and I truly appreciate you passing through. 

Last year and the beginning of this year have been pretty bad. Some of you might have heard about my grandma's death and sadly, she was just the first of the family losses in the time I've been gone. There was also a friend's death discovery, my parents' health tanking, my friends Going Through It, and my own physical/mental problems. I didn't want to talk to the internet about these things because they were/are very overwhelming and private and tbh I used all my energy to help with the household and make sure work got turned in on time. When I had spare time after dealing with the near constant disasters, I didn't really feel like interacting with the internet at all beyond using it as a way to talk to far away friends (mostly to give them the thumbs up that i was alive) or watch/read things when my brain was less scrambled. Social media was an absolute no go and I didn't have any non-work art to post so I just kind of mentally crawled under the porch to die lol. 

I only drew work related things for months due to extreme burnout and it took me almost a month off after my last job to remember how to create again. I couldn't draw or write, it was kinda like art block except it was more like nothing was there at all? It's hard to explain. 

Things are still happening but I need to get back in the saddle eventually so here I am. 

I'm going to post the little art I did in June and all the sketches I did in January when I re-learned how to draw for myself. Again, I'm so sorry for being away without saying anything and I'm grateful to whoever threw me a buck, or even just casually enjoyed my art. Leaving like I did was really irresponsible and there's no excuse for not at least making a post about all of this sooner.  Every month I got a patreon payment was another wave of guilt because I literally couldn't give y'all anything but at the same time that money was letting me book flights to funerals and keeping my mom comfortable while she recovered from surgery right after I spent a lot of my savings in 2022 trying to fight my late cat's cancer. And then not posting about what was going on made me more anxious as time went on because there was more guilt every month so I felt like I needed to come back with a bunch of art and energy and good reasons and it was just. A Mess. 

But anyway.

I'm alive, I'm back. The Horrors persist, but so do I.

Thank you for your patience.

[remcycl333]

DISMISSING THE 3D

in the loass community, "ignoring" the 3D is a very common phrase, but i find that this often leads to confusion and stress. i think that a much better phrase for it is "dismissing the 3D."

your inner man responds to feelings. your inner man doesn't have eyes; it cannot see your 3D. and your thoughts (dominant or not) do not manifest. your inner man doesn't care what your conscious mind is thinking: it cares about your state.

your 3D is a manifestation of your previous state. your 3D doesn't look the way it does right now because of any thoughts you've had, it looks that way because it is reflecting your dwelling state. so how do you change your 3D? by changing your dwelling state.

you don't need to ignore your 3D, you need to dismiss it.

an example i'm going to use is one i've been getting a lot of questions about: you're living in your parents house in the 3D, but you're manifesting moving into your own place. how do you ignore the 3D?

you wake up in your old bed every day, in your old bedroom. you go to your old bathroom and take a shower in your old shower. you go to your old kitchen and do your old dishes and eat your old food. your parents talk to you and tell you you need to clean your old house. you sit down for family dinner at your old dining room table and talk about the things you did in your old house that day. then you sit down with your parents on your old couch and watch a movie on your old tv before going to sleep in your old bed in your old bedroom.

how are you supposed to ignore the 3D when you are constantly witnessing it? how are you supposed to not think about your current 3D when you are constantly dealing with it?

because you don't need to ignore your 3D, you need to dismiss it.

as i mentioned earlier, your subconscious is blind. your thoughts don't manifest. neither of these things are going to effect your manifestation. the only thing that will effect your manifestation is your state.

THE INNER MAN

let's take a little detour to talk about the inner man (i promise it's relevant)

what is the inner man? it's YOU. it's who you identify as, and it's who you are in your imagination. so when you imagine something, you are giving whatever you imagine to your inner man. your inner man is experiencing your 4D.

your outer man is the YOU who is experiencing your 3D. your outer man lives in your outer world, and your inner man lives in your inner world. however, there is no separation between your inner man and your outer man.

as Neville says, "where I shall go in imagination, I shall go in the flesh as well." you must give your inner man your desire first in your inner world, and then your outer world will follow. you cannot skip step one.

this is what i like to do: i give myself my manifestation in my imagination. still using the above example, we'll simply say "there. my inner man lives in my desired apartment right now."

now my inner man is living in my desired apartment. i made a little post about how i like to view my inner man as a little, doll-like version of myself inside of me, but it is not actually separate from you. my favorite way of dismissing the 3D and shifting myself back to my desired state when something in my 3D shakes me is by reminding myself that my inner man already is/has what i want to be/have.

so, still using the same example, if i were to feel myself slip out of my desired state while manifesting my dream apartment--say that i was dwelling in the fact that in my 3D, i have to do chores at my parent(s) house--i'd remind myself that my inner man is already living in my dream apartment/house and that nothing i see or do in my 3D can change that.

there is a difference between dealing with your 3D and identifying with your 3D. in the example i just gave, i could've allowed my actions in the 3D--doing chores--tell me that my desire was never going to manifest because my 3D was showing me the opposite. i could've let myself dwell in the state of lack. instead, we recognized the 3D for what it is: a reflection of our previous dwelling state.

there's this comment i read on the Neville Godard subreddit that I really loved. it said: "the best advice i can give you is stop worrying about what your subconscious is going to think of what you're doing."

your assumptions manifest. what you do in your 3D is completely irrelevant unless you identify with it. your subconscious is not gonna see you doing chores at your parent's house and think that that means you don't live in your desired apartment/house. your subconscious mind doesn't have it's own opinions or ideas on what things in your 3D mean.

for example, say you wash your face and do your skincare every night, yet you are still dwelling in the state of having bad skin. which is going to manifest? your state, every single time. it's why that skincare product that everyone under the sun said helped clear their skin didn't work for you: you assumed it wouldn't.

if you negatively react to your 3D, that is an indicator you fell out of the state of the wish fulfilled. shift back to it, and then continue taking care of business. you're going to notice your 3D no matter what you do. your only job is to dismiss it, because you know it's not your true reality.

keep reminding yourself that your inner man already has your desire, and you're just chilling in your current 3D--no matter how opposite of the 4D it appears--until it catches up. your 3D is not permanent. you don't have to accept it as true.

the goal isn’t to ignore your 3D, it’s to let it pass without worrying about it.

an analogy that i read that i really liked was this: say you're in a disagreement with someone. they keep telling you that a song is sung by a specific artist, but you know for a FACT that it's actually sung by someone else. no matter what, they won't believe that you're right, and they're actually trying to convince YOU that THEY'RE right. but this is literally your favorite song, you know for a FACT who it's sung by, and it's not the person that they're saying. do you let them convince you that you're wrong, or do you stand firm in your belief?

that's how you should act in regards to your 3D. you know that you have your desire in your 4D. i mean, it's YOUR imagination and YOU'RE in control of it! you can have whatever you want in your own imagination! so are you gonna let your 3D tell you that you don't have your desire in your imagination? or are you gonna stand firm in the belief that you have your desire in your 4D?

that's all you need to do. you don't need to believe that you have your desire in your 3D, you just need to believe that you have your desire in your imagination. and you can control your imagination, so this should be super easy. give your desire to you inner man, and as long as you stay faithful to the fact that your inner man has your desire, your 3D will reflect this.

[cecilebutcher]

!!URGENT HELP FOR G@Z@!!

Hello everyone. I know I haven’t been posting any twst content for a while, and I am planning on doing so soon, but this takes urgency!

After some research and seeing how much my last 🍉 post did I decided that I’m gonna post this one with links to directly help families/people in G@za who need help (and I’m censoring the place because tumblr has taken down posts of other people who have spoken about the gen0cide before)

Please try to donate and if not then reblog like comment and share this to other platforms, post this to your personal account on other socials, send it to your friends and family, or even just @ people.

But before that I just wanted to tell everyone that I do have news from my first post, it’s under the cut alongside the links :-

I sadly just saw this for some reason, but still wanted to share it with you guys!!

Now for the links:-

This one if for Ahmed Al-Nasser who has two young boys and a pregnant wife who is in dire need of a c-section

This one is for Nurse Maha, she has a husband and a small boy, Nour, who’s only 2 years old that hasn’t had any vaccines or any medical help

This one is for Haneens family, thankfully she lives in Belgium and doesn’t have to suffer or watch the war currently going on, but her family of 11 do. Both her parents have chronic illnesses, and some of them are young kids.

This one is for Ahmed, who’s a father (he doesn’t specify of how much but he has a picture of his two TODDLER daughters) he has been displaced with his family and his diabetic father, they are halfway to their goal only needing 75,772kr.

I sadly don’t know anything about this next link other than they have a child who has special needs, so please do share or even better donate!

This one is for Haitham, a 31 year old male, he needs emergency surgery, but at the state G@aza is in he can’t get it

This one is for Ahmen, a doctor in g@za. He is so so so far from his goal (his goal is 15,000€ and he only has 2,778€) this isn’t even for him, bless his soul, it’s for his elderly father who is unable to walk and is need for emergency surgery.

This last one is for Nour, a 31 year old mom and a wife to Amir who is 35. They have 4 gorgeous children (Kareem (7 years old), Imad (6 years old), Tia (2 years old), and Abdel Rahman (five months old)) it after reading their story I am in actual tears and my heart hurts for them. Poor Abdel Rahman was only 10 day, Ten days, old when all this has happened. This kids have their whole lives ahead of them and they might not see it because of what’s happening to them.

Tagging some people I know will reblog this: @jade-s-nymph @siphoklansan @ceruleancattail @catboiie16 @cloudcountry

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 5 (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), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

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: 12,000+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6, 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!

        Andrew glided through the hospital corridors, taking the elevator to the pediatric branch. He really couldn’t care less about the kid, Hailey, but for some reason his favorite nurse just loved the little nuisance. 

        He felt a bit jealous. Does she like Hailey more than him? 

        Obviously, she does, considering how she had talked about the girl when they first met. He felt pretty annoyed. Did she spend more of her time and attention on the ill girl? Did she get to innocently hug her like that? If Andrew wasn’t so prideful, he’d definitely ask her for a hug.

        Hell, he was really fighting with himself to ask now. Just a small quick hug, nothing bad! He wondered if he could genuinely pull that off. He wondered how she must feel inside his arms. Would she rest her head against his chest, or would she rather prefer resting it on his shoulder? Is she one of those people who cling onto you like their life depends on it, or was she someone who preferred soft and polite hugs? Would she be a long and affectionate hugger, or simple and sweet? 

        He put that thought in the back of his mind for now, rolling down the hallways to Hailey’s room. He didn’t bother to open the door, much like he did with (Y/N)’s room earlier, as he strolled in without a care.

        Hailey laid in her bed, her eyes glued to some book (Y/N) got her, before she glanced at him. Her eyes raised, surprised to see the pale man again.

        “Andrew, was it?” she questioned, her voice sounding better from yesterday. “What are you doing here?”

        “(Y/N) told me to check on you.” He stated bluntly.

        “(Y/N)? Is she here?” Hailey questioned, a smile growing on her face. “I haven’t seen her tonight! I thought she was off work?”

        Andrew was about to open his mouth and say (Y/N) was, before remembering how the nurse didn’t want the girl to know about her condition. 

        “Uh, no…” he muttered, looking away. “She… wanted me to get into books to distract myself… so she told me to go to you for any books.” He lied.

        “So you do have an interest in books after all.” Hailey smiled. “You must have an interest in nurse (Y/N) too, huh?” Hailey smirked teasingly.

        “…What are you getting at?” Andrew questioned, resisting the urge to glare at the sick girl.

        How the hell did this kid know? Andrew questioned to him.

        “It’s very obvious.” She smiled. “See, if I had a past life, I’m sure I was like a cupid!”

        “Uh, yeah. Sure, kid.” He spoke, brushing off the comment as he decided not to entertain nor deny the idea.

        “I’m very serious.” Hailey re-enforced. “I can see it in your eyes! You’re invested in her!”

        Who is this brat… Andrew thought, annoyed but intrigued (much to his dismay).

        “You know, I’ve known her ever since she came here. I know her type of men.” Hailey lied, a mischievous smirk growing on her face.

        “…You do?” Andrew muttered, now he was unashamedly interested. 

        “I could tell you…” she hummed, trailing off. “Or not.”

        Andrew looked hesitant, before letting out a sigh. He rolled his chair up to her bedside, glancing down at her lap where her open book rested.

        The book she got from (Y/N)…

        God, everything just seems to trace back to that woman, huh? No matter what, everything he sees and hears all traces back to her, even outside of the hospital people are attracted to her (even if the reasons could be malicious). It’s almost pathetic how hooked he is on her, despite not even knowing her for a week. It’s almost scary how everyone seems to be attracted to the girl, she just had an aura that everyone was aware of and drawn to. 

        He could look at something stupid like his shoes and remember her footsteps as she walked with him to the surgery room. He could remember her hands on his face, chest, wrist, looking all around and checking his condition, his bandages, his vitals. He could look at his bedsheets and remember her hands tucking him in for bed… and imagine things he’d rather not envision for a woman he just met.

        Yeah, back in the hatch those thoughts go.

        “Could you just tell me?” he huffed, trying to sound as uninterested as possible despite asking for this, rather impatiently at that.

        “Well? Do you like her?” Hailey questioned.

        Andrew took the moment to think to himself. Yeah, she was a pretty nice nurse, and she knew her stuff despite specializing in pediatrics; though he shouldn’t be surprised, children are basically just the same anatomy as adults, just smaller in size.

        She had a nice voice, and she somehow balanced between playful and professional, perhaps that’s practiced for pediatrics to make kids feel comfortable yet still hold authority. 

        She had a cute smile, and her eyes were pretty to look into. He liked looking at her while she worked, sometimes she’d even bite her lip or stick her tongue out to remind herself to concentrate. She looked like an angel laying on that white hospital bed. Even in pain, she still looked pretty. 

        He wondered how she was outside of the hospital. She was a human too, how did she act with her friends, or her family? How did she act alone? Was she single? Did she have a boyfriend, or did she prefer girls? Would she take interest in him? Could she see him as a potential partner?

        Fuck. Yeah, he definitely liked her.

        “Just a little…” he muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

        This feels weird (and degrading, in a sense) to be relying on a sick kid for love advice. 

        “So you admit it?” she smiled.

        “Are you gonna tell me or not?” Andrew growled.

        By now, Hailey was no longer fearful or anxious of Andrew. Andrew was just a lovesick puppy hopelessly enamored with her favorite nurse, in her eyes at least. She learned that expression from her books.

        “No.” Hailey smiled, picking up her book.

        “Why?” Andrew questioned, feeling a little betrayed that she made him admit his feelings only to not hold onto their deal.

        “Because I lied.” Hailey smiled. “I don’t know her type.”

        “Brat…” Andrew muttered under his breath, unashamed to be talking smack in front of a dying kid.

        He could’ve said worse, but it’s quite mean to talk ill to a sick child, especially in front of them. Besides, (Y/N) wouldn’t like it if she found out.

        “So, books?” Hailey hummed, getting back to her reading. “This book I’m reading right now is pretty good. I can read it to you.” She suggested.

        “No…” he grumbled, still a little upset that he was tricked. 

        He’ll let her lying slide. Kids will be kids, let them have their fun. 

        “How about I read it to you instead?” Andrew suggested.

        He didn’t want her reading to him; he was the adult, not her. Besides, her voice sounds hoarse and struggling, he’d rather him read it to her than have the kid push herself—not because he’s soft or anything, but because (Y/N) would be upset. 

        Hailey seemed to ponder the idea, before handing over the book to him. 

        “Just don’t crease the pages.” Hailey spoke.

        “Got it.” Andrew hummed, looking at the page she was originally reading.

        He started at the beginning of the page, reading a bit wonky at first, before he started to get into the narration. The words started to flow more smoothly, and he even took pauses for dramatic effect at the intense moments that felt like they needed a pause to sink in.

        One chapter became two, and two became four. He was pretty interested in the story, makes sense considering it was his (Y/N) who got the story, of course she’d have immaculate taste too. 

        He read until his throat went dry, the tip of his tongue aching from all the pronunciations. He looked up from the book to see Hailey asleep.

        Did she get bored? Andrew thought, a little offended that she fell asleep at the book (Y/N) gave her instead of giving it to him, especially when he was kind enough to read it to her. 

        Maybe she just liked his voice? It’s perfect for listening to. His voice wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either, like a polite demand for attention or to respect his authority. It was deep, but not too deep, with a slight rasp from smoking. He was good at projecting his voice so others could listen to him—well, everyone except Ashley, really. 

        Thinking of Ashley, where is she? She was sure acting weird today. Something about the demon’s vision she saw in her dream. She also described (Y/N)’s appearance despite not even knowing the nurse; he couldn’t recall any moment they had interacted.

        Andrew took a white bookmark that laid on her bedside table, placing it on the page he stopped reading on. He closed the book, placing it down on Hailey’s bedside. He wheeled out of the room, making his way back to the elevators.

        He entered the elevator, pressing the button for the emergency branch, waiting for the doors to re-open. The metal shutters opened and he rolled out, going back to (Y/N)’s room.

        He made it, opening the door and entering without bothering to knock. (Y/N) laid in the hospital bed, her eyes closed as she appeared to be sleeping.

        Damn… Andrew thought, disappointed. I was hoping to talk to her.

        He doesn’t know what he would’ve talked about, but he was hoping she’d start the conversation. He wanted to get closer to her, emotionally and physically. 

        Andrew debated what he should do, before finally giving in, rolling his wheelchair up to her side. He observed her sleeping face, blissfully unaware of his presence as she slept. Her hair was a little messy, perhaps from sleeping or from the attack earlier. Her skin was a bit paler than usual, perhaps from shock or blood loss. She had more prominent bags under her eyes than usual, resting heavily under her closed eyes.

        He wondered who attacked her, and why. Was it a crazy ex boyfriend? Some stalker? A jealous friend? Someone suffering under delusions? He wondered what happened.

        He had an idea, though he was scared to ponder on it.

        Instead of thinking about it, he distracted himself. He looked down at her bandaged arm, trailing his hands down to her wrists, and to her fingernails.

        Her nails were strangely clean. They were polished and trimmed, which makes sense considering nurses need to have good hygiene, especially so they don’t transfer bacteria or accidentally infect patients. They looked like they had been scrubbed squeaky clean recently, not even a trace of dirt under her nails. 

        Her hands looked small compared to his, clean and petite compared to his rough and damaged ones. 

        His hands had small burns from failing to light his cigarettes as a starter; her hands had small burns from ovens and hot cookware and hot glue guns, yet somehow her scars were far more attractive than his.

        His hands were dirty, stained with blood and sins; hers were clean, baptized in purity and commandant.

        He wondered how her hands would feel against his. They looked soft, would they feel soft? He wondered if she used lotion, what her favorite nail polish was, how long she liked her nails.

        Those thoughts led to other thoughts. What did she like wearing when she’s at home? What does she wear in public? What kind of music does she listened to? What kind of foods does she like?

        He decided it was best to stop those thoughts. He stared at her hands, juggling his thoughts in his head, before finally giving in. He reached out and held her hand with his larger one. 

        He held it gently, feeling the weight of it. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, memorized at the difference. Her hand was slightly cold, possibly due to how cold the hospital’s AC is followed by blood loss, but it wasn’t uncomfortable to touch. 

        He looked at her face to see if she woken up or felt the touch. She didn’t.

        His fingers carefully interlocked with her, cautious to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally wake up. She remained neutral, not even a flutter of her eyelashes or any stirring. 

        She must be really tired… Andrew thought. 

        His admired their hands as they eloped together. He noticed discoloration on her hands, He shifted his body, laying his elbow down on the edge of the mattress and using his arm as a pillow. He admired her sleeping face, closing his eyes to relish the touch and intimacy of this moment. He doesn’t know how long it took for him to fall asleep, but it was relatively quick.          .         .        

        A few hours later, Andrew jolted awake first at the sound of the door opening, turning his head at the noise. (Y/N) groaned, opening her eyes and seeing Andrew by her side, holding her hand as a man stood in the doorway, one Andrew didn’t know. 

        Andrew squeezed (Y/N)’s hand softly, a silent greeting before glaring at the man, almost possessive of (Y/N)’s vulnerable state.

        “Hello, Doctor Ryan…” (Y/N) yawned, before directing her attention to Andrew. “And hello to you too, Andrew.” She hummed, smiling as she gently squeezed his hand back.

        She looked down at their hands, wondering when she and Andrew started holding hands, or even when he returned back. Her hands trailed down to her sleeves, more so lack of, as the hospital gown didn’t have any long-sleeves for her. She noticed her scars out in the open and ripped her hand away from Andrew’s, a sense of insecurity and embarrassment rapidly building in her as she hid her arms under her blanket.

        Andrew looked confused (even a little disheartened that she let go) as Doctor Ryan walked over to her. Doctor Ryan isn’t usually at the hospital on Saturday nights, but he could’ve decided to work overtime this week. It’s not unusual since he has a stay-at-home wife and three kids.

        “Hello! I heard what happened and I figured I’d wait to see you when you’re awake.” The doctor smiled brightly, walking over to her bedside and sitting next to Andrew. “And who is this?” he questioned, looking at Andrew, yet having a good idea of who it was as he sent a knowing smirk. 

        While Doctor Ryan had never met Andrew face-to-face, he had read his report when assigning (Y/N) to watch him his first night, along with hearing all the gossip from Penelope. 

        Andrew had a small reputation around the hospital since he’s one of the trouble patients, on suicide watch and needing special treatment for his wounds and wants. Andrew wouldn’t accept any care from any other nurse during the night shift, it was a fight for the day shift to care for him until (Y/N) told him to behave for day shift. His sister was also banned from the hospital due to proving a threat to Andrew’s recovery and health, though she won’t be a problem anymore. 

        Rumors spread pretty easily of Andrew’s fondness and almost admiration of the nurse he chose, (Y/N). Penelope has a big mouth without meaning to, having a bad habit of rambling and over sharing her and other people’s problems and secrets, so it spread pretty quick of the strange relationship the nurse and patient shared. Penelope’s ramblings of doubt as a nurse because Andrew wouldn’t accept her care had reached Doctor Ryan’s ears, being the catalyst of his teasing to his student, (Y/N). 

        “This is Andrew.” (Y/N) introduced when she realized Andrew wasn’t going to answer the doctor’s question, only give him a nasty glare.

        She cleared her throat, shoving her arms into her blanket so the pair of males didn’t see, and flashed a smile. “What’s your visit for? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me work.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke. 

        “I wouldn’t say 'work' exactly.” Doctor Ryan smiled, before it faltered, letting out a sigh. “You’re here today, so I figured it’d be a good time to tell you. I think it’s best if you see Hailey.” 

        “Hailey? Why? Did something bad happen to her?” (Y/N) questioned, doing her best to not sound alarmed or panicked.

        It’s never a good thing for a nurse to panic, it’d defeat a key factor of their job. Nurses are supposed to provide aid to their patients, whether it’s emotionally or physically, or even emotional in cases like Andrew’s. A nurse panicking would panic their patient since they’re going to look to the one with most experience. If a patient panics, they can worsen their condition or provide unnecessary stress that can affect their recovery or even create new problems. 

        And people think being a nurse is just all fluffing pillows and handing out medication. You have to be constantly in tune with the patients emotions, symptoms, and healing process; from what they're feeling to how much they're eating or using the bathroom. Always checking up on how they are and cater them to the best of your ability; serving them food (and sometimes helping feed them), changing their bedsheets, helping them to the bathroom, helping out with physical therapy, prepping them for procedures or appointments, and charting. The worse is charting. You have to document every single thing; from what they ate and what times, to who visited them today, to how what they said to be feeling and what they looked actually looked to be feeling like, to any improvement or decline or neutrality of their status, to their behavior, to what medicines they had, to their complaints or compliments they have about the hospital or their treatment, and so much more. 

        “She’s just not in the greatest condition at the moment. I think it’s best she sees you.” Doctor Ryan spoke.

        Before she could question it, Doctor Ryan grabbed something from his coat, placing it down on her bedside table. 

        “Here,” he spoke, patting what looked to be a Polaroid recorder down on her table, “I came to drop this off too. This was supposed to be a wholesome visit, until Hailey at least…” he spoke, allowing his smile to drop. “Check out the contents on the camera later. I have to get back to work. Get well soon!”

        “Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, watching Doctor Ryan leave the room.

        “Who was that?” Andrew questioned, glancing over at her as he resisted the urge to grimace.

        “That’s Doctor Ryan, he’s my professor! He’s the one teaching me pediatrics since I’m an apprentice.” (Y/N) explained, slowly sitting up from the bed.

        Andrew watched her movements carefully, observing how she slowly took her time getting out of bed. She didn’t apply much pressure on her injured leg as her sock-clothed feet hit the ground (with clean hospital socks, none of her blood soaked up in it and used to plug in any stab wounds). The room looked like a carousel, spinning rapidly, and a headache followed with it, screaming loudly in her head. She let out a groan as Andrew quickly placed a hand on her waist.

        "Careful..." Andrew muttered, watching her intently as he kept his hand on her waist.

        "Thank you, but I'm fine." (Y/N) lied, placing her hand on his shoulder to use as leverage. 

        "Yeah, sure." He hummed sarcastically.

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to glare at him. While she wasn't on duty, she was still his nurse and she didn't feel like having any workplace drama. 

        "Do you want me to assist you there?" Andrew questioned, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on her hip.

        "No, it's fine." She spoke, taking a few steps to the door and ignoring the stabbing sensation in her leg. 

        "Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, trying his best to not look too concerned for her. 

        "Yes, I'm sure." She huffed, trying not to be snippy. "It's for the best. I don't want Hailey to be nervous or worried, especially if there's something going on with her." 

        "Just be careful..." Andrew spoke, watching her limp away. "I'll be here waiting for you." 

        (Y/N) took the moment to look back at him, confused. Before she could question it, she stopped herself, deciding there was always later to talk about it. Right now Hailey needs her, Andrew can wait.  

        (Y/N) settled for a nod, rummaging in the hospital cabinets and grabbing a white blanket. She wrapped it around her body to hide her hospital gown; she wouldn’t want to worry Hailey. (Y/N) limped out of the room, going down the halls to the elevator. 

        She pressed the floor the pediatric branch was on, waiting rather impatiently for the doors to open again as she descended.

        Was Hailey okay? What did he mean by she’s not in the greatest condition? Has she gained more symptoms, or weakened?

        Hailey has acute lymphoblastic leukemia, also known as ALL. It’s a cancer inside the blood and bone marrow, where the infected white blood cells are rapidly multiplying, creating blocks in the blood and bones that could prevent other cells from getting through and working. The cancer comes with symptoms such as fever, frequent nose bleeds, weakness or fatigue, easy bruising, pain in the bones or stomach or groin, frequent infections, and swollen lymph nodes. 

        Hailey’s most prominent symptoms are her swollen lymph nodes, hence why her voice is low and raspy, along with her bone pains in her legs, which is why she’s bedridden. At least 90% of kids under 15 who have ALL survive, so long as they’re treated. Even thought Hailey has been in the hospital for three years, she’s made very little progress in recovering. 

        Despite there being no stages in ALL cancer, if (Y/N) had to guess, she’s assume Hailey would be in stage 3. Over the years of chemotherapy and medications, her infected white blood cells just seem to be multiplying more and more, hence why it’s called acute lymphoblastic leukemia, acute means rapid. 

        (Y/N)’s theory is that a doctor didn’t give a strong enough dosage to Hailey, therefore the cells grew a resistance to the medication, creating a superbug that could withstand the medicine entirely. 

        Even then, what matters is if Hailey is feeling alright. (Y/N) exited the elevator and limped down the hallways, making it to Hailey’s room and opening the door.

        “Oh. Hello, Ms. (L/N)!” Hailey greeted brightly, her voice still hoarse and raspy, but having life to it. “What are you doing here? You said it was your day off!”

        Hailey’s upper body shot up quickly as she sat up from bed, a smile on her face as she greeted (Y/N). Her eyes were bright and lively, even waving her arm at the nurse.

        Oh.

        “Sorry it’s so early!” (Y/N) smiled. “It’s at least 5 A.M. What are you doing up so early?” 

        “I couldn’t sleep, I just had such a sudden burst of energy!” Hailey spoke. “I think I’m getting better!”

        (Y/N) ignored that comment, sitting down on the guest chair in Hailey’s room. Her eyes trailed to the wheelchair that sat near her IV pole, a wheelchair that’s only used for Hailey to wheel herself to the bathroom now, but even then she needs help from the nurses. 

        “So? How’s that book you’re reading?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “I’m almost done with it. At least 30 pages away.” Hailey answered. “What are you doing here at the hospital? It’s your night off; unless you’re working overtime again?”

        “Yes! I’m working overtime again.” (Y/N) lied, smiling at the girl. 

        It’s best not to tell her anything, not in her condition.

        “Are you cold? Why are you wearing a blanket?” Hailey questioned.

        “Yes, I’m cold. I’m feeling a bit chilly at the moment. It’s verging to winter and the hospital still hasn’t adjusted the thermostat yet.” (Y/N) lied once more. “Hey, remember when I said I’ll take you to the garden the next time I see you? Would you like to go right now?”

        Hailey’s eyes brightened even more, her grin widening as she nodded. “Yes! I want to see the flowers!” 

        “Let’s get you in the wheelchair, yeah?” (Y/N) spoke, standing up from the chair and using the blanket to hide herself limping from Hailey’s sight.

        Hailey used her upper arms and was able to push herself to the edge of the bed on her own, even moving her knees a bit too! (Y/N) still carefully placed one of her arms under Hailey’s knees and the other on her back, picking up Hailey and placing her in the wheelchair. 

        (Y/N) decided against the wheelchair restraints, not wanting Hailey to feel trapped at the moment. (Y/N) grabbed the blanket off Hailey’s bed, but Hailey spoke up.

        “We can leave the blanket. I actually feel pretty warm at the moment.” Hailey spoke.

        The only warmth Hailey usually had was when she had a fire spreading in her legs, the bone pains acting up and causing many sleepless nights for her. It’s why Hailey is almost always awake when (Y/N) does her rounds around the hospital at night.

        “It’s cold outside. Let’s take the blanket just in case.” (Y/N) persisted, smiling as she covered Hailey’s shoulders and down with the thin white cloth. 

        Hailey decided not to argue against it and cooperated. (Y/N) wheeled Hailey out of the room, her pace a little slower than usually as she felt that stabbing sensation in her leg and stomach. It made her silently hitch her breath, her ears having a slight ring in them, yet she persisted. 

        “Gosh, I haven’t seen these halls in forever.” Hailey spoke, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the white hallways. “You know, I read that whenever you enter a unfamiliar area, the reason why you feel dizzy is because you have a sensory overload. Like, you’re saving mental images and color palettes and the layout of the area all in your head, that way you remember where you are the next time you go! Even though I’ve been here before, it feels like it’s my first time down these halls all over again.” 

        Yes, (Y/N) knows that. She was the one who gave Hailey the book she learned that from, but for Hailey’s sake (and to distract her mind from the pain), she decided to play dumb.

        “Wow, really?” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “I never knew that. It makes sense now that you’ve explained it.”

        Hailey nodded, smiling. “Yeah! I remember having that dizziness when I was at my friend’s for a sleepover.” She spoke, before her smile dropped. “Though, it was before I had cancer, or at least when I wasn’t placed in the hospital… I sometimes miss having friends.”

        “Why, of course you have friends.” (Y/N) spoke. “You have me! And you have Doctor Ryan, and Penelope, and Ruby, and even Andrew too.” 

        “Yeah, but I mean friends my age.” Hailey spoke.

        Normally, that could be arranged in the hospital so long as the patients aren’t being exposed to a infectious disease or illness, especially in Hailey’s case since she’s more prone to getting infections; however, Hailey didn’t want to be friends with the other kids after her hair started falling out due to the chemotherapy. She was insecure of her appearance deteriorating, even if Penelope kept lying to her face and telling her she looked perfectly fine. Hailey preferred (Y/N) over Penelope for that reason. (Y/N) always told her the truth, or at least left it blank so there was no harsh comment. 

        If Penelope asked (Y/N) if she looked sickly today, (Y/N) would tell her that a bit of water and food would help bring back some color to her face. It was a good way to not only promote healthy behavior for Hailey, but also it helped build trust in (Y/N) to always telling her the truth about her health. If she asked Penelope, Penelope would’ve lied and said she looked as bright as the sun; which is kind, but she could tell Penelope was lying by how Penelope’s right eye would twitch and bite her bottom lip. 

        “I see… well, I’m sure we can arrange that soon, when you’re ready.” (Y/N) smiled, taking Hailey into the elevator.

        (Y/N) pressed the lobby floor as Hailey spoke up.

        “Are the flowers even in bloom? Since it’s verging to winter?” Hailey questioned.

        “A secret between me and you; the flowers are fake.” (Y/N) whispered, acting as if there was a camera watching her or something. We have scented pads hidden in the soil to make it smell like flowers, and we wet the soil regularly to keep that earthy smell lingering.” 

        “Really?” Hailey gasped.

        “That’s why they’re always in bloom. It’s depressing to have an empty garden, even something as small as colorful flowers give people hope.” (Y/N) explained. 

        While fake flowers aren’t present in most hospitals, this hospital was different. Even if they were always understaffed and overworked, they at least cared for their patients. Even if the staff excel at their work or not, at least they have work ethic. 

        The elevator doors opened as (Y/N) wheeled Hailey down the hallways. (Y/N) noticed the stares from guests and even some patients; whether it was because of Hailey’s bald head or (Y/N)’s limp. (Y/N) noticed Hailey’s gripping the blanket on her, seconds away from raising the blanket above her head to hide it. (Y/N) recognized Hailey’s insecurity and spoke up.

        “You know, I’m thinking of starting a garden. A real garden with real flowers indoors, that way patients with allergies or conditions can see the flowers too without going outside.” (Y/N) spoke, redirecting Hailey’s attention. “I was wondering what flowers you’d like for me to add. I’ll do a survey with the other patients too, have a nice diversity of flowers. What do you think?” 

        “I think… it’s a nice idea.” Hailey smiled, letting go of the blanket. “I think daisies. You should do daisies.” 

        “That’s a nice flower. I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling as she pushed open the glass door, rolling Hailey to the garden. 

        (Y/N) guided Hailey to the wooden bench, picking up Hailey and placing her down on the seat so she wouldn’t be confided to the wheelchair. 

        Hailey rambled on and on about anything and everything. She talked so much that (Y/N) contemplated if she should go fetch water for Hailey’s throat given how raspy it was, but she decided against it as she noticed the signs.

        Hailey’s bright smile, the almost whimsical joy in her eyes; an expression that (Y/N) thought Hailey has lost over the years as she spent her birthdays in this hospital. 

        (Y/N) remembers bringing a cake for Hailey’s 7th birthday, the first they spent together. Even though Hailey admitted to not liking vanilla cake, she still ate it. It was the last birthday she’d spend with her parents before they threw themselves at work, leaving Hailey along in the hospital with other sick patients and the staff. 

        The second birthday they spent together, (Y/N) had to ditch the candles, concerned the smoke would affect Hailey’s lungs. At least the cake was homemade, even if the frosting looked a bit ugly. (Y/N) made sure it was chocolate this time, so Hailey could enjoy it. 

        And the third birthday they spent together, (Y/N) made an ice cream cake, chocolate of course. She figured the ice cream would soothe Hailey’s throat and Hailey could still enjoy the flavor. It took many tries, but she succeeded in making the perfect cake, gifting Hailey books for her to read too. 

        If (Y/N) had known it would be Hailey’s last birthday, she would’ve made sure to go all out. Buy balloons and party streamers, force her parents to come back and see her, cover her head to toe in presents. 

        Unfortunately, you can’t change time. 

        Hailey’s eyes shined as she spoke, talking about anything possible. She didn’t have many who would listen to her, her doctors and nurses were there for work, and (Y/N) couldn’t visit long since she had other patients to tend to. But now, (Y/N)’s off the clock. At the moment she’s not Hailey’s nurse, she’s Hailey’s friend.

        Eventually, Hailey’s voice faltered, before she let out a hum, satisfied as she rested her head on the bench. She took a deep breath, then sighed, smiling softly.

        “It really does smell like flowers. Those are some good quality scent pads.” Hailey spoke.

        Fake flowers last for years; patients do not.

        “Do you ever wonder what’s beyond us?” Hailey questioned after a long silence.

        “What do you mean?” (Y/N) questioned, turning her head to face the girl.

        “Death. Like, do you ever wonder what happens after?” Hailey added.

        (Y/N) hummed, thinking as she kept her blanket wrapped around her, hiding her hospital gown just as Hailey hid from the cold. 

        She wasn’t sure. Many religions had their own ideals of life and death, but she doubted Hailey wanted an answer based on religion. She wasn’t sure what was beyond. After trying to kill herself, everything in her life started losing value, a spiral of nothing and everything thrown at her all at once. 

        Even if she stopped hurting herself physically, she couldn’t stop mentally.

“I think it changes for everyone.” (Y/N) spoke. “Like, your own paradise. You could be surrounded by anyone you want, and anything you want.”

        “What would you want to be surrounded by?” Hailey questioned.

        She didn’t have to think much on that matter. There wasn’t much in her life she cared about anymore. She did nothing but work nowadays. She was an empty husk that worked itself to death to pass the time, awaiting Death by the door. 

        If she couldn’t open the door, she’ll make Death open it. 

        “Beds.” (Y/N) answered.

        “Really? That’s it?” Hailey questioned, surprised and perhaps kindly disappointed. “I was expecting something… more. Like, deep, or wise.” 

        “You can’t expect everything to make sense in life, you know.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Sometimes things just happen. I think that’s what’s so fun about life, it’s just a mystery to be solved at the end of the line through all that hard work; or, perhaps there’s no mystery. Maybe it just coexists just like we do.” 

        “How can your answer be so boring but your follow-up be so wise?” Hailey pouted, cause (Y/N) to chuckle.

        “Hey, I never said I’d give you any special answer.” (Y/N) pointed out.

        “But, really, why beds?” Hailey questioned.

        “I just like sleeping.” (Y/N) smiled, giving part of the truth.

        “I guess it’ll suffice.” Hailey sighed, disappointed.

        “And you? What would you like to be surrounded by?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “My parents.” Hailey spoke. “And my old friends. And tons of my hair, like as much hair as Rapunzel.” 

        “That sounds nice.” (Y/N) hummed. “Though, you’d have to brush your hair all the time. Maybe it’s not so good having hair, I can’t stand mine at times.” (Y/N) spoke, trying to gently reassure Hailey.

        “Well, maybe just normal hair then. What it used to look like before.” Hailey spoke. “You’d be there too. I wouldn’t only see you when you’re working. I’d see you outside of the hospital as my friend.” 

        “What’s it matter where or how you meet? As long as we’re still friends, I don’t see any issue.” (Y/N) smiled.

        Hailey smiled, nodding. “I like that.” 

        Eventually, Hailey went quiet, no longer having any words to speak. She sat on the bench, observing her surroundings in a youthful fashion. Her eyes sparkled with life, her pulse relaxing as she enjoyed the false nature around her.

        “Thank you for staying with me.” Hailey spoke up, her volume decreasing, the sound of her raspy voice cracking more. “I know it’s probably hard for you to see me like this.”

        “Anything for you, Hails.” (Y/N) smiled, wrapping her arm around Hailey’s shoulder and giving her a gentle side-hug.

        “Thank you for not leaving me alone. It means a lot to me…” Hailey muttered, taking a few deep breaths, before eventually subduing. 

        (Y/N) glanced at the IV pole, looking at the fluids that gently flowed in Hailey’s veins, before she turned her attention back to Hailey. 

        After a few minutes, there was no movement from Hailey. No breathing. No eye movement. No leg twitching. Just nothing.

        (Y/N) took a deep breath, smelling the fake flowers and wet soil, before letting out a sob she’s been holding. 

        Hailey had so much life, and yet she died so young. She was so lively in her final moments.

        All that matters now is she’s not going to be in anymore pain and that she wasn’t scared. (Y/N) thought.

        Even if kids under 15 have a 90% chance of surviving acute lymphoblastic leukemia, it doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed. Life and death is really never a guarantee though, so it’s good to enjoy it while it lasts.

        If only (Y/N) could follow her own advice.

        (Y/N) covered her face in her hands, crying now that Hailey was gone, so she wouldn’t see her tears. This hurt way worse than any stab she could endure. 

        (Y/N) almost contemplated covering Hailey’s face with the her blanket, but she decided against it. She didn’t want to be ashamed of Hailey or her presence, she didn’t want to forget Hailey or brush her aside.

        (Y/N) stood up, deciding not to waste much time, and picked Hailey up, putting her in the wheelchair. She had such lifeless and glazed eyes, her mouth was slightly open and her arms flayed motionless as (Y/N) moved. She doesn’t look like the suddenly bright and cheerful Hailey from just a few minutes ago.

        Terminal Lucidity. It’s an unknown phenomenon that can happen before death, giving you suddenly more strength, a clearer consciousness, and even regaining memory. It’s surprisingly common, at least 88% experiencing the symptoms before death. It can happen from minutes to hours to days before death, and it has a habit of giving false hope to the patients loved ones. While it’s quite common in dementia patients, it can also happen to those with neurological problems or in some special cases those with cancer.

        In the hospital, a terminal patient suddenly acting lively and alert is usually a bad thing because it means they’re near death. It’s not quite known why, but some speculate it could be the brain’s last fight, before eventually giving in. 

        (Y/N) wheeled Hailey’s dead body to the hospital’s mortuary. She checked the body in, guessing the nearest time of death since she didn’t have a watch on her, and the cause of death. She wrote down the parental numbers so they could be contacted, before lumping her way back to the elevator.

        The ride up was deathly silent, not that anyone was in the elevator to talk to her, but it was silent in her mind too. Usually she’d at least be thinking of things to do, but she had no thoughts in her mind.

        The elevator doors opened and (Y/N) walked out. She walked back to her own hospital room, exhausted and tired. Tears threatened to escape her eyes once more, the pain of losing Hailey and the pain of her wounds piling up on her. 

        She opened the door, surprised to see Andrew there, sleeping in his wheelchair with his arms crossed. (Y/N) wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or happy. Annoyed because she wanted to cry and sleep, but also happy because it meant she wasn’t alone with her thoughts and feelings. 

        The door opened, jolting Andrew awake. He was probably in a light sleep, whether because he was expecting (Y/N) or because the wheelchair is uncomfortable to sleep in. Whatever the reason was, he was awake.

        His eyes trailed to (Y/N), doing his best not to smile and brighten up at her presence (that would be so lame if he did that).

        “Hey.” Andrew spoke.

        “Hey.” (Y/N) parroted, throwing her blanket at Andrew for him to use instead as she got up in her hospital bed.

        There was no point in hiding her hospital gown now that Hailey was dead, so that blanket could now be used by Andrew while she got under her own hospital bedsheets. 

        “You can go to your room, you know. I’m fine on my own.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “So? You got stabbed.” Andrew gruffed, catching the blanket and placing it down on his lap.

        “And you have two broken legs, mister. You should still be recovering after surgery.” (Y/N) scolded lightly.

        Her response caused Andrew to chuckle. Even injured and off the clock, she still worried about others. Andrew wasn’t sure if it was because she was his nurse or if she was just trying to be a decent human, but he relished the attention anyways. 

        “Ah, c’mon. I feel fine.” He chuckled. 

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to kick his leg to prove him wrong, yet she decided not to be petty today. She hummed, lying down on her bed. 

        “Is there something you want from me? Why are you here?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at the clock.

        It was 6:30 A.M. She’ll be here in the hospital until 3 P.M. She wasn’t fond of that. She needed to bury Ashley’s body and deep clean her apartment. Even though the police hopefully had no trace it was her, and hopefully they didn’t invade in her apartment and swab the place (which, they better of not considering it’d be illegal without her permission or a warrant). 

        Not really. Andrew thought.

        He just came over as soon as he heard (Y/N) was put in the emergency unit thanks to Penelope’s big mouth. He doesn’t really know why he came here, maybe just out of curiosity to see how bad she was hurt. All humans are curious when something bad happens.

        Maybe he just wanted to spend more time with her, to be happy she was here with him. It’s not like she could fight much with him, she was tired and her eyes were red.

        Red eyes. Was she crying?

        “I just figured I see you, since you’re here. It gives me something to do other than being stuck in that hospital bed.” Andrew spoke.

        “And now you’re stuck in a hospital wheelchair.” (Y/N) chuckled.

        “Forget about me. Are you okay?” Andrew questioned.

        “Yeah. I told you. It doesn’t hurt much.” (Y/N) lied, ignoring the pulses inside her wounds.

        “I wasn’t talking about that. I mean, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Andrew pointed out, leaning back in his chair as he looked at her.

        (Y/N) paused, thinking. Would it be against hospital protocol to say a patient’s status or info to someone if they’re dead? 

        Well, you only live once. And Andrew doesn’t look like a snitch. 

        “Hailey died.” (Y/N) spoke. “And, her parents weren’t there to say goodbye. Really, never visited her much either.” 

        “That sucks…” Andrew muttered.

        He’s not too sure if he could care or not. Yeah, it sucks a kid died, but why should he care about a kid he had no connection with? She died, might as well get over it.

        “It happens more than I like around here. They pass without their family around.” (Y/N) spoke. “But, I just can’t stand when the parents aren’t there for their kids. They die scared, that’s no way to die, for a kid or adult.” 

        (Y/N) spoke, looking out her window as the sun started rising. 

        She wondered where Andrew’s parents were. Why aren’t they here to visit him? Do they not know he’s here? Or perhaps they don’t want to visit their child who’s a murderer…

        “What shitty parents.” Andrew spoke with no filter.

        “Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled, “that’s what I think too.” 

        To really care about someone you don’t have any blood-relation to, must be a special kind of bond; it’s one you can choose, not one you’re born with, unlike the one Andrew and Ashley shares.

        “So, where’s your parents?” Andrew questioned.

        “I’m an adult, I don’t need them checking up on me.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Yeah, but, wouldn’t it be nice? A sense of security and all?” Andrew questioned.

        “Well, where’s your parents?” (Y/N) retorted, a bit annoyed.

        So what? It’s not like if she called them they’d come rushing to her. Her mother would care less seeing (Y/N) in a hospital again, and her father would probably go berserk and try to bring her back home where it was safe. 

        “Touché.” Andrew chuckled. “But I have my sister to visit me.” 

        (Y/N) mentally grimaced at that, doing her best to not make a face so Andrew wouldn’t question it. 

        Not anymore… she thought.

        Her hands suddenly felt dirty again. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she hid them in the hospital blanket. Once again, Andrew was intrigued with her hands after seeing her hide them. It’s like everything she hides them, he immediately gets curious and wants to see them. 

        He knows of the obvious self-harm scars now, he saw those when she was sleeping. And he saw the small scars and burns from everyday life, but why care so much about them? 

        Maybe it’s just something you have to go through in order to understand. You can’t understand everything on the first try, especially if you have no experience in it.

        Sure, he was admitted for jumping a rooftop, but that’s a bit different than self-harming. Jumping a rooftop is one clear goal; suicide. It has subcategories such as wanting to escape life, or having too many problems to run away from. 

        Self-harming, on the other hand, is more complex. The desire to harm yourself is there, but you don’t want to die immediately. It’s a slow steady process building up. You hurt yourself possibly because you feel ashamed, that you feel like you deserve to hurt because that’s all you’re worth. Or perhaps it’s to relieve stress or pain. There’s not always such a strong intent to die when you hurt yourself? sometimes pain is the only thing people know that they use to feel normal or detached. Perhaps they even get pressured into hurting themselves. Self-harming isn’t to die, it’s to make yourself suffer because you feel that that’s what you need. 

        The question is: what is her reasoning? 

        The question left him wondering, he was almost compelled to answer, but she didn’t look to be in a good mood, so he decided against it.

        (Y/N)’s eyes trailed to the digital recorder on her bedside. Doctor Ryan had left it on her bedside earlier, but he didn’t explain what was on it. She reached over and grabbed it, studying it.

        It was a shiny silver recorder, with a slot for polaroid photos to slip out of. (Y/N) turned on the camera, pressing a button to the camera roll. The camera roll opened, multiple short videos at least 10 or 20 seconds showing. 

        She clicked on one and turned it on, seeing a video of one of her patients. They had black hair and black eyes, sitting in their hospital bed with an IV needle in her arm and bandages around her head. She recently had surgery for a tumor in her brain, now resting in bed.

        “Hi, Ms. (L/N)! I heard you were doing unwell and I wanted to say please get better and visit me when you’re healthy!” the patient smiled.

        (Y/N) chuckled, a smile plastered on her face as she looked at the footage. Andrew wheeled his way over to her side, curious to what she was smiling at. He rested his arm on the bedside, leaning over and looking at the footage. 

        (Y/N) moved the camera in the center of them so they both could see. She clicked the next video, pressing play.

        A boy with brown hair looked at the camera, confused. “What do I say?”

        “Say get better.” Doctor Ryan whispered from behind the camera.

        “Get better.” The boy spoke.

        “Now add more to it, say nice things.” Doctor Ryan whispered, resisting the urge to chuckle. 

        “Nice things.” The kid spoke. 

        “No. What do you like about Nurse (L/N).” Doctor Ryan spoke, now using his normal volume instead of whispering.

        “I like that she’s nice.” The kid smiled.

        “Now say it to the camera.” Doctor Ryan pushed.

        “I like that you’re nice, camera.” The boy smiled, one of his front teeth were missing, only adding to the cuteness.

        “Ah, close enough.” Doctor Ryan chuckled, ending the video.

        (Y/N) giggled at the video while Andrew remained unfazed. She clicked the next video, pressing play. There was a girl inside Doctor Ryan’s office, there for an appointment. She was a frequent regular for common colds, so (Y/N) recognized her instantly. 

        “Hi, Ms. (L/N)! Please get better soon, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting is too messy! I like yours better!” she smiled.

        “Hey! It’s not messy, you just can’t read the prescriptions because it’s long words!” Doctor Ryan laughed.

        “Still bad.” The kid smiled. 

        “Oh whatever.” Doctor Ryan chuckled from behind the camera, ending the video.

        The kid was right, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting was bad. The kid would try to read the prescriptions on the paper but couldn’t read the big messy words, so (Y/N) would just simply write “cold medicine” so the girl could read it. 

        (Y/N) smiled, going through more and more videos as she chuckled and grinned at the kids, their thoughts and feelings, and seeing their current statuses. 

        She eventually got to the last video, the caption above saying it was recorded just eight hours ago, when (Y/N) was still sleeping in the hospital after surgery. 

        “Hi, Ms. (L/N)!” the patient with blonde hair smiled, revealing to be Hailey, lively and well.

        “I heard you’re unwell and I hope you get better really soon! I can’t wait to see you again and to read the books you lend me. Please get well soon, I miss you already!” Hailey smiled.

        “Wow, she looked to be getting better.” Andrew commented, pointing at the screen. “I wonder what happened…”

        Even though Hailey was lively and well, anybody with medical knowledge would know that she was doing bad.

        “Terminal lucidity.” (Y/N) answered. “Sometimes before you die, your brain acts out on a last defense. You gain more energy and strength; but it’s fruitless.” She explained.

        “Oh… that blows…” Andrew muttered.

        No wonder she seemed much more vocal and confident today than she did yesterday. He wondered if he died, would he act like that too before kicking the bucket? That must hurt for the loved ones who don’t understand. 

        “It does…” (Y/N) sighed, her mind going blank as she stared out in the distance.  

        When things become too much, it’s better not to think and just go on auto-pilot. It’s how (Y/N) went through her life when things became too much.

        It’s unhealthy, she knows that, but it helps her cope with reality. 

        She turned off the camera screen, burning a hole into her lap as she looked at the black screen. She spaced out, going motionless.

        Andrew noticed, unsure whether to speak up or not. She was obviously feeling distraught and he wasn’t sure if she should be wallowing in her feelings or not.

        Auto-pilot took over and decided it wanted her to cry. Tears started pouring down her face before she knew it, only causing Andrew to shift uncomfortably in his chair. He sighed, grabbing her hand and holding it. 

        “Hey… it’s okay.” Andrew spoke awkwardly. 

        “No, it’s not.” She spoke, her voice cracking. “All these kids, they shouldn’t have to go through this so young. They shouldn't be in pain or dying.” 

        It’s admirable, her care for others. It must take a good heart to do that, always worrying about others instead of herself. Andrew wondered if he was like that before all this happened. Was he a good person before he jumped and lost most of his memory? 

        No, probably not. This is reality, not a dream. He doubts that he was a good person, judging by the way he acted with Ashley the past three months he could remember. His parents ignored his calls, his girlfriend broke up with him on the phone, and he killed multiple people and even ate his neighbor!

        Yeah, definitely not a good person.

        “There, there…” Andrew muttered awkwardly, squeezing her hand hesitantly. “Sometimes things just happen?”

        “But they shouldn’t happen to kids. They’ve been brought in this world just to get taken out when life has barely even started for them. These poor kids.” She cried, squeezing Andrew’s hand tightly for comfort. “They shouldn’t be wanted to die so early on. They should be enjoying life, not wondering when it’ll end.” 

        Normally, she’d just hide her feelings or bottle it up until she got home, but she can’t even go home and cry because she has a body to bury and a apartment to clean. 

        Life just keeps piling up on her more and more. It feels like a never ending cycle of pain. The only time she even feels happy now in reality, without sleeping, is seeing kids happy and smiling. How can she be happy if they keep dying? How can she be happy if these kids keep getting their happiness robbed?

        Andrew contemplated what he should do. Should he let her vent? Should he try and comfort her more? Should he offer her to shut up and shove advice down her throat? 

        He decided it was probably best to just comfort her, he’d rather not see her cry. She can be emotional outside of his vision. As much as he likes this nurse, he hates sensitive people; maybe he just doesn’t like seeing someone he favors crying. 

        Andrew sighed, reaching over and placing both his hands on her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. 

        “Hey, don’t cry.” He spoke. “It doesn’t look good on you, you know?”         

        (Y/N) sniffled as she tried to speak. The muscles in her throat felt restricting, preventing her from putting them to use, so she only just shook her head.

        “That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?” Andrew pointed out, wiping the tears into her skin. 

        (Y/N) nodded, unsure of where he was trying to go with this.

        “So, she knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?” Andrew questioned. “I think it would just worry her about you. You wouldn’t want her to worry about you, would you?” 

        (Y/N) shook her head, her shoulders shaking from her sobs. 

        "You were there for her when no one else was? Isn't that all that matters in a kid's final moments?" Andrew questioned.

        Andrew's right, at least they didn't die alone. Dying alone must be one of the worst ways to die, alone to succumb to your own thoughts and regrets of what could've happen and what did. It must be worse slowly deteriorating over time, at least dying quick you wouldn't be alone with your thoughts, but dying alone just leaves your thoughts, which slowly fade over time the more and more you stop living and just start existing, before even you lose that too. 

        Yeah, being alone sucks, (Y/N) can vouch for that. Coming home to an empty house with nobody to greet you, eating meals alone, waking up alone and going to sleep alone, shopping alone. It's kind of like dying alone in one way. You're just waiting for that time to come when eventually you stop doing those other things, so you just go on autopilot and wait. Of course, she could easily change all that by dating someone or getting a pet for at home, but it's just so exhausting trying to find a good person to spend the rest of your life with. 

        There's a reason so many people are single in the dating pool. Besides, she doubts anyone would want to date her with her work schedule; she sleeps in the day and either works at night or stays up at night on her days off. Let's not forget how she's constantly tired and depressed, dating someone like her would be such a buzzkill, you'd have to be desperate; at least that's what her mother said to her last time they met up for dinner. 

        (Y/N)’s tears stopped, realizing Andrew was right. Hailey wouldn’t want her crying, and if (Y/N) died, she wouldn’t want to be sad either.

        (Y/N)’s sadness was soon replaced with embarrassment once she realized she was crying. Crying in front of a man and have the audacity to rely on him for her own emotions. It only makes it worse that he was her patient. This must be wrong in some way to be touching her patient like this, considering Andrew isn’t in any need of reassurance she should be providing as his nurse. 

        She pushed him away rather quickly, wiping her own tears out of her eyes instead of him doing it for her. Andrew looked confused, mentally wondering if he did something wrong. 

        Why the sudden change?

        (Y/N) adverted her eyes from his face, feeling childish and insecure for crying in front of someone. Even if he was pretty handsome to her, she’d rather not see the pity, or any other sort of expression on his face. 

        Andrew felt a bit annoyed at the sudden change. He was just holding her and comforting her. She was even leaning against him and crying into his chest! Why did she suddenly push him away? Why did she suddenly not want him anymore?

        His eye unconsciously twitched, showing his mild annoyance as a tinge of insecurity washed over him. Before he could question the sudden change of heart, the door opened, Penelope walking into the room.

        Penelope’s face brightened once she saw (Y/N), before it dropped noticing Andrew. Penelope suddenly became skittish, playing with her fingers as she avoided Andrew’s gaze (glare). 

        “Um… Mr. Graves, you’re not supposed to be here at night. It’s protocol for patients to be in their rooms in the night.” Penelope muttered, her green eyes staring down at the white tiles. “Should I escort you back to your room?”

        “No.” He spoke quickly, wanting nothing to do with Penelope.

        Andrew looked back at (Y/N), his gaze softening just a bit as he looked a bit concerned for her. He didn’t want to leave her. What if she needed help with something? What if she cried some more? What if she needed him?

        Andrew mentally groaned, conflicted with his emotions. He unlocked his wheelchair and wheeled to the door, Penelope stepping to the side so he could pass by her. 

        “You can come back during visiting hours.” Penelope added quietly, resulting in a harsh glare from Andrew.

        If only looks could kill.

        Penelope watched as Andrew left the room, before she closed the door behind her for privacy.

        “Gosh, he’s just so intimidating…” Penelope groaned, taking a seat in the room’s guest chair. 

        “He’s not so bad…” (Y/N) hummed, smiling.

        (Y/N)’s not too sure why Penelope’s afraid of Andrew. Sure, he’s a man, but he’s not really intimidating. Perhaps she’s grown desensitized to him and his menacing aura. 

        Or you know, perhaps she just likes red flags. A killer cannibal certainly is a red flag, but that’s just a theory.

        Besides, what’s he gonna do with two broken legs? Punch her? Penelope just has to climb up on the hospital bed or take the stairs. 

        Penelope took in (Y/N)’s appearance, a frown making way on her face.

        "Oh, you poor thing!" she spoke, the words sounding degrading enough, especially after (Y/N) was just crying a few minutes ago. "Who could do such a thing to you?"

        "Who knows..." (Y/N) muttered, ignoring the sudden shock of anger shooting through her.

        She looked at Andrew. Why did Penelope look at Andrew? Yeah, she was searching for him to bring him back to his room, but did she have to advert her eyes and mutter like a damn school girl? 

        The sudden jealousy pissed (Y/N) off, why was she acting like this? Why did she care? What does Penelope even want?

        "Did you need something?" (Y/N) questioned, not doing too well to hide her annoyance.

        Luckily, Penelope was a bit oblivious, yet still seemed a bit on edge.

        "Oh, sorry... Well, before I speak, how do you feel? Do you need anything? Food or water? Painkillers?" Penelope questioned.

        "I'm doing fine..." (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth as she smiled.

        "Good. Well, did you hear the news about that patient? Andrew Graves?" Penelope questioned.

        "What about him?" (Y/N) questioned, glancing at Penelope suspiciously as another volt of jealousy shot through her. 

        "Well, I did some digging online, and I found out he's wanted!" Penelope spoke, her voice a bit too loud for her liking.

        "So?" (Y/N) questioned, already knowing this information, before she quickly switched up her attitude, realizing that wasn't an appropriate social response. "Wait, what? Wanted? Like, by the police?" 

        "Yes!" Penelope nodded, leaning closer to (Y/N) in her chair as she spoke. "Wanted for murder! They said he killed four people at their old apartment. Him and his sister, Ashley. They even said one of the bodies had meat cut off it and it was cut up in pieces! They found DNA and blood in their kitchen, on the counter and pots and silverware!" 

        Well, the police only has to worry about one sibling now... (Y/N) thought to herself. 

        (Y/N) stayed silent, unsure of what a functioning human would respond to this. Honestly, she's grown quite comfortable with the fact Andrew is a killer and a cannibal. 

        "I mean, that's just... vile! And disgusting! How could someone do that?" Penelope questioned, her face turning as green as her eyes. 

        "Why did they do it?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "H-huh?" Penelope questioned, surprised. "What do you mean? They kill four people and ate one! They must be insane or something." 

        "Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know why they did it." (Y/N) spoke. "Penelope, we should know better than anyone else that people act out for reasons. We're nurses, we deal with mental breakdowns and patients lashing out all the time, and we know they have motives behind it." 

        "Yeah, but that's a medical setting, when something's generally wrong with them! Andrew seems stable enough!" Penelope spoke. "He must've knew what he was doing!" 

        "Peer pressure?" (Y/N) suggested. "Perhaps his act is a facade? We don't know a person's thoughts or feelings. For all we knew, they could've been in a dire situation. I mean, who just randomly kills four people in one day and run? Something must've happened."

        Penelope looked frustrated, her bottom lip pouting as she clenched her fists. "And? So? Why should we care?! He killed four people, you know! We need to call the police!"

        "No! You can't!" (Y/N) quickly shot up from the bed, flinching as she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach where her wound was. 

        "What? Why not?" Penelope questioned, surprised at the sudden outburst as she leaned back in her chair. "Why are you defending him? We're nurses! We need to help protect people. He could hurt someone else here!" 

        "No! You can't take him!" (Y/N) shouted, throwing the bedsheets off her and rushing to Penelope, ignoring the pain shooting throughout her body as she placed both of her hands on the arm chairs, caging Penelope in. "You can't do that! I won't let you."

        "W-what? W-why are you acting like this?" Penelope squeaked, her hands pressing together as she curled herself up in a ball, sinking herself down in her chair as she stared up at (Y/N), frightened.

        (Y/N) paused, realizing the sudden position she put herself in. Damn it! Why did she just lash out like that? She's never like this! Why can't she just let Andrew go? She needed to think of something quick to diffuse this situation and convince Penelope not to report Andrew.

        "Don't you understand? The police are just going to keep him here until he heals up to where he can go to jail. If you report him now and he's aware of that, he might snap and actually hurt people." (Y/N) spoke, trying to come up with a false reason. "You'll just enrage him and give him a motive to hurt others. He hasn't injured anyone severely these past days, only a few books and hits thrown because he was afraid of us recognizing him and calling the police."

        Penelope looked uncertain, contemplating whether she should listen to the younger and injured nurse in front of her. 

        "B-but—" Penelope started, but was cut off by (Y/N).

        "Penelope, please. Don't be an idiot. Don't do something so unfathomably stupid!" (Y/N) pleaded.

        Just make the idea look stupid. Just act like Penelope's the one being insensible. 

        "He could really hurt someone if the police come and tell him he's arrested. They're just going to explain that he's under arrest, and will be escorted to prison once the doctors deem him healthy enough to go. He'll just be here, drugged up from his surgeries, and that could cause him to not think sensibly, it'll make him more of a hazard to others. We can't afford that, Penelope." (Y/N) explained. 

        Penelope adverted her eyes, (Y/N)'s words seeming to sink into her as she started to appear ashamed of what she was previously proposing.        

        "So... what now?" Penelope questioned. "He's not going to be able to stay here long anyways. We have no emergency contacts to contact for him. He has no records inside our hospital. He can't even fill out any of our forms or such because of his amnesia, either that or he's pretending to not to know the information." Penelope explained. "He doesn't have health insurance or can't remember it, and I doubt he can afford the hospital bills if he can't even remember anything! He probably doesn't even know his banking information if he has it!" 

        “If we tell him that, it’ll be bothersome…” (Y/N) explained. “I mean… he could get mad and hurt someone.”

        “Exactly!” Penelope exclaimed. “I-I don’t know what to do! Should we bring this up to HR or the head nurse?” 

        “No.” (Y/N) spoke quickly. “I-I mean, c’mon? It’s hard to trust these so-called professionals. The hospital is notorious for its accidents and fatalities. I mean, we're all working here because we were rejected by other hospitals because of our questionable backgrounds and court filings! For gods sake, there’s an advisement a town from here that has a doctor suggesting anesthesia for depression and it has our hospital name on it! We can't trust the board for anything!"

        “But… what can we do?” Penelope questioned, feeling hopeless.

        “We’re the smartest nurses in this whole shithole,” (Y/N) spoke.

        Maybe it was an exaggeration, but she needed Penelope to believe her, or at least stop her from reporting Andrew so that he could escape.

        Why does she care so much about a wrongdoer? He should be in prison, he should pay for what he’s done, but for some reason there’s a stabbing sensation in her chest at just the thought of not seeing him again. The feeling was almost as painful as the bleeding wound she currently had.

        She needed new bandages, she’s been putting too much stress her body. She would ask Penelope, but she’d rather not stick around with Penelope any longer. Sure, having Penelope around would make it so she’s less likely to snitch, but there’s also the possibility that she could potentially catch (Y/N)’s unnatural behavior and go back on her words. 

        "I-I just... what if we're making the wrong choice? I can't stand the thought that someone can get hurt." Penelope spoke.

        (Y/N) almost felt sorry for the young nurse. The nurse was only three years older than her, yet she seems utterly more helpless in life than (Y/N). Penelope has a bad luck streak with everything. She's terrible at math and doing her taxes. She's terrible at thinking for herself. She's grown up from foster home to foster home. Every relationship she's been in has been disastrous. 

        (Y/N) would care if Penelope didn’t have such an unhealthy obsession about finding love. The whole reason she became a nurse was to try and nurse someone to health so they’d love her; it’s almost sad, really.

        “I just can’t believe it…” Penelope groaned, burying her face into her hands. “Why are the cute guys always so unstable?”

        Nevermind. (Y/N) doesn’t feel sad for her at all. Absolutely no pity. Void of emotion. She was almost considering the idea of murdering Penelope. Seriously, you're caring about how cute a guy is despite him being a major threat to your life? Should you really be focusing on a cannibal's looks. 

        (Y/N) decided to bite her tongue. There was no reason to start a fight (that, and maybe she's just a bit guilty of this as well...) It still didn't stop the bubbling pot boiled inside her stomach and chest as she glared at Penelope though. 

        “Penelope, can you go find my nurse? I need a new change of bandages.” (Y/N) grumbled, desperate for Penelope to leave her as she sat back down on her bed, wincing as she overstrained herself once more.

        Maybe cornering and intimidating a person while injured isn’t the best course of action.

        “O-oh, right! Sure!” Penelope spoke, popping up from her makeshift ball as she stood up from her chair. “Whats your nurse’s name? I’ll go find them.” 

        “I don’t know their name. I didn’t met them, only my doctor.” (Y/N) explained.

        “Oh, okay then. Well, I’ll ask around and see if I can find them.” Penelope spoke, walking to the door. “Door open or closed?” 

        “Close it.” (Y/N) answered.

        Penelope nodding, closing the door and leaving (Y/N) to her own devices. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief that Penelope was gone; however, there were other things to worry about.

        She needed to figure out a way to solve the Andrew situation. She could talk to Andrew herself and see if he has any insurance. She might be able to judge if he’s lying or not about knowing anything, if Andrew’s a good liar or not, that is. 

        She almost felt compelled to leave her room and go to Andrew’s. She could tell him what happens; no health insurance means paying the full entirety of the bills, which could be five digits to possibly even six after all his car, special requests/needs, surgeries, and days he’s spent admitted.

        It’s fine… she just needs to sleep. She can deal with it another day. If she sleeps now, time will pass quicker and she can get discharged. 

        She closed her eyes, seeing nothing but darkness as she used her drawback to escapism once more, distancing herself from reality as she did her best not to think about her patient.

And chapter 5 is done! I do apologize for it being so long, I wasn't planning on it being so long but I guess I did get a bit carried away... Chapter 6 will have quite a bit of drama and new characters being introduced! Now I just have to get chapter 6 done... which I'm unsure of when will be done, but it's in the works already! Thank you for your patience and for reading, and I'm excited for you all to see the development of (Y/N) and Andrew!

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 request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6, 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!

[strawberrynightmere]

Bad Cats!!! [Part 3]

Warning ⚠️: yandere tendencies, mention of (temporary?) re-homing, mention of financial struggling (idk how to exactly put it), an attempt at writing a professional sounding email.

A/n: Sorry, this took a while, I had things to do. This is a bit longer than what I expected.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It finally happened. Your boss' incompetence has set back the whole company. You knew it would happen eventually, but you thought that by then, you'd be working somewhere else. There's still no reply from the places you applied to and the bills! What are you going to do now? The obvious thing is to cut your food supply short, but that's still not enough.

And how are you going to take care of Andrew and Ashley? You can't just toss them outside. That's inhumane! You've grown attached to those two and they have also grown attached to you. Besides, they've been living here with you for some time, and you're afraid they won't be able to adjust to the streets again.

All of this has been brought up in your conversation with Julia. Unlike Nina, Julia knew how to offer helping you.

"What if I take them in until you get back to your feet."

"You would do that? Even take in Ashley?"

"Yeah! You said they got tamer over the time, besides when introduced to new people. I can deal with that for the time being."

You wanted to cry in releaf. Like a boulder just fell off of your shoulders. You make the arrangement with Julia and end the call.

"Meow?"

Andrew was right at the doorway looking at you with what you can pinpoint was concern.

You crouch down to his level and pat his head. "Everything is alright."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You were waiting for Julia in the park, where you said you two would meet. Andrew and Ashley were in their cat carriers wondering why they were here and what was happening.

You hear footsteps running in your direction. It was Julia!

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic." She said out of breath.

You take her to the bench you were sitting on to rest a bit. While she was resting, you, for some reason unknown to anyone, spoke to Andrew and Ashley.

"Listen, you two will be staying with Julia, temporarily, please be good to her. I'll come back for you as soon as possible." Then you turn to and tell her what she needed to know about the two.

Meanwhile, Andrew and Ashley were confused, to say the least.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The time the cat siblings spent with your friend was unpleasant. Ashley hated everything about this situation. She hated the place they were living in. She hated Julia. She hated how she treated them as babies. She hated that Andrew was unresponsive the whole stay.

"Are you still going to stay quiet?"

At this point, she'll die of boredom and frustration.

Speaking of which.

Ashley slaps her brother with her little back paw.

"Are you gonna talk now?"

"She left us."

"Huh?"

"She. Left. Us." Andrew repeated, emphasizing each word.

"Well, watcha gonna do about it?"

"Something I should've done before."

That surprised her. It took only a moment for her to realise what he meant.

"Oh. Oh! My god, really? Are you actually gonna do it? You are gonna listen to me. This. This moment is so much bigger than me! I'd like to thank myself for holding up for so long. My parents... can continue to rot in Hell where they belong."

Andrew just rolled his eyes at his sister's dramatic speech, like she was gonna get some kind of reward.

"But anyways. This episode is titled 'Andy and Leyley and the-"

"You're not going."

"Huh?!"

"You'll stay here and distract the human. She still can't tell the difference between us."

Ashley sinks down to the floor.

"And Leyley is stuck with the crumiest job possible."

"Daww, don't worry, Leyley. We'll pick you up very soon." Andrew assured in a teasing tone.

"Ha ha ha! Fucking asshole."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

One rejection letter after another. You were losing hope. You're gonna end up homeless at this point.

Slumping your head on the table.

Ding!

An email from your current job. It's probably gonna beo something like half of the company being let go. Whatever. You click on the email.

---

Respected workers of [COMPANY],

It has come to us with a heavy heart to announce that [REDACTED] from [DEPARTMENT NAME] has been forced to let go.

As you are all aware of the current setback in this company. We are glad to announce that this is just a small hiccup, and in soon time, the company as a whole will soon be able to function like before, and you'll be able to receive your full payments.

For any questions you have, please email us.

With full regards

[RANDOM NAME]

P. S. As for the new manager of [DEPARTMENT NAME], the position will be vacant until further notice.

---

This has to be a dream. You rub your eyes to confirm. Yep. It's real. So many questions were forming. Was any of this possible? What was this feeling right now?

Who cares! You won't have to worry about this anymore. You won't have to worry about finding a home for Andrew and Ashley or the possibility to send them to a pound. You won't have to worry about starving or being homeless.

And the best part? That sucker of your boss finally got fired.

Wait. Andrew and Ashley. You'll have to see until next month if you'll be able to take them back. Right. It's late. You'll tell Julie about the good news in the morning.

"Meow."

What the...

Black fur, green eyes. Either you're hallucinating from the lack of sleep and the lack of nutrition, or that really was Andrew sitting at the doorway.

You carefully get close to the cat and stretch your hand out to him. And then you feel his little head rubbing against your palm.

"What are you doing here?" You ask in a voice that was right above a whisper. "I can't take you back just yet. I need to call Julie."

Picking up your phone from the table, you dile Julie and wait for her to pick up, but there is no answer.

"Gess, I'll return you back there tomorrow."

As you say that, two arms trap you at the table where you were sitting. Turning around, you see the same man from your dreams. Black hair and green eyes. It suddenly dawned on you.

"You're not taking me anywhere."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: There were a lot of possible plots I was working on, and honestly, this one was the only one that was working out for me. Hope you enjoyed it.

[starberry-cupcake]

Me reading this book is like trying to pin things to a cork board with red thread but the things I'm trying to pin down are fog and they vanish before I can grasp them.

Here's a visual representation of me finishing a chapter:

previously, in harrowbeenie the ninth:

this happened

currently, after chapter 5 (you're gonna have to be patient with this one):

we're moving back and forth between the second and third person

knowing now the content of the letters that yandere twin had talked about in the prologue, it makes some sense

but we aren't there yet

I need to point out something I don't think I specified enough last time

ice cube barbie changed eyes

people be changin' eyes here

she used to have eyes like harrow and now she has, and I quote: "ever since you had writhed in Lyctoral agony, her eyes had turned a yellow that made you dizzy to behold: a bronzed, hot, animal yellow, as amber as the inside of an egg"

this is from gideon's last ch.: "Gideon's eyes, as they always did, startled her: their deep, chromatic amber, the startling hot gold of freshly-brewed tea"

just gonna leave that there

but now, moving forward...or backwards to ch. 3 flashback of sorts

we got a recap of most of the events we knew, but in a gideon-less ver.

I'm gonna also point out that harrowbean mentions her mother holding her wrist the same way she said ice cube barbie did when they were in the coffin hangar

another addition to the clown emperor's story is that the Resurrection is described in harrow's memories as "ten thousand years ago had given them all release from death that none of them had deserved"

I don't know about any of this

we've got a disturbance in the force when harrow describes her parents finding out about the tomb thing

it says "her parents had...found out...about what she had done"

interesting edit of the story there

there's a gideon-sized hole in this story

there's also an interesting new count of nooses??

she says they tied five, two for mortus (???) but in gideon's book she said they tied their own nooses and then helped her tie hers, what's up with mortus having two??? is this nothing and I'm just obsessing about every detail???

I'm gonna start seeing palmolive's force ghost roaming around my house

at the end of ch. 3 it says "there had been another girl who grew up alongside Harrow—but she had died before Harrow was born"

this is a VERY INTERESTING wording

if someone dies before you are born, they can't grow up with you

UNLESS

I'm not gonna dwell on that yet

let's put a pin on that

ch. 4 has the re-apparition of yandere twin

*live studio audience cheers, maybe*

she gives her a letter addressed to her from her

the letter has a lot of instructions of things she doesn't remember at all and also are supposed to be opened at specific times/events

one of them says "in the event of the emperor's death"

another says it's in case she sees regina george twin, which makes a whole argument happen and knives are used to settle it

yandere twin will not hear someone imply her sister might be no longer with us

she probably isn't dead, this I know for certain, people wouldn't be confusing my names for them if that was all we got from her

the most important letter, though, is the one in case she sees camilla, who harrow claims not having interacted with ever

this is a very important thing to note, but most importantly, CAMILLA MENTION

very important to be noting who harrow remembers interacting with and who she doesn't

very important as well that she remembers yandere twin losing an arm in battle but does not remember gideon or camilla

I haven't mentioned it yet but, in the letter, past!harrow tells present!harrow that she needs to check yandere twin's tongue and lower mandibule

to which I think to myself "I bet she's gonna kiss her"

and that she did

which makes me want an edition of this book but with gideon commentary

like a dvd commentary but it's gideon commenting on all this stuff

and cracking jokes

because I bet she'd be cracking jokes about this

remember when she joked that yandere twin would marry mayonnaise uncle?

and then both harrow and mayonnaise uncle were like "ew the third's magic is weird"

imagine if she saw this display

another CRUCIAL thing is that harrow is doing like an oath to yandere twin as requested by past!harrow

and she says "by the ripped and remade soul of ortus nigenad"

and yandere twin goes "who? oh, yes—the cavalier"

I mean, mood at not remembering the names, but also SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR

she also tells present!harrow "I gave you something you cared about very deeply at the time"

side note, there is yet another moment in which chad is read for filth

get obliterated even in undeath, chad

last detail from this chapter is that harrowbean almost gets assassinated

maybe I should have started with that

at this point there's so much going on, death seems like a normal one

so yeah, she's gonna get killed with a pillow to the face and then she defends herself and discovers at the end of the chapter that she didn't hallucinate the whole thing and it was hidden from her on purpose that somebody tried to end her

so what's the point in being in this clown death star and surviving big brother canaan house if you can't even sleep peacefully???

moving on to chapter 5

remember the timeline I was making?

yeah, about that

chapter 5, in the third person continuity, establishes that what I saw previously was not necessarily a memory but an au memory

if we can call it something at this point

so my calculations were made as if the timeline was one

but this is not one timeline, it's a sort of parallel gideon-less one

of course my heart is making me believe the gideon-less one is the one that isn't real

and that past!harrow might know what's going on with that

maybe gideon's existence needs to be protected

maybe the emperor doesn't have to know about her

(I'm still holding on to the gideon hope, leave me alone)

but, in any case, present!harrow doesn't know

let's remember the prologue begun with harrow doing something she shouldn't and yandere twin saying something like "was there something in those letters I don't know about?"

I'm just gonna have to throw my timeline in the trash and start over with multiple timelines for now

ALSO, I didn't say anything about it yet, but it's mentioned that harrow is "in love" with ice cube barbie

take that as you will

which is another joke gideon has made in the past and would be stellar in a commentary of this

and, talking about things gideon would be awesome at commenting

in the new ortus-inclusive (?) narrative, ortus is talking about the epic of Matthias Nonius, who we know because harrow has compared gideon to him in the past

and also there's is a comment made about how ortus looks down on people who read "prurient magazines or pamphlets"

I really need gideon confessionals commentary over here

she also says that "the ninth house character, she was forced to admit, had always been low on wild and confident fucks"

yeah, well, how about that

and we end with THE FLIMSY

lots of important flimsies in this

she finds a note that reads "THE EGGS YOU GAVE ME ALL DIED AND YOU LIED TO ME"

ortus says he can't read it

but, in any case,

that made me stop in my tracks because I was reminded I forgot about the writing on the walls of canaan house?????

I filed it under canaan house weirdness but then, it was never talked about?????? again????

also the paper gideon found with her name

which I assumed was addressing the other gideon that not!dulcinea mentioned knowing

but who tf knows at this point

who knows what time and space are anymore

time to leave it for today...this is getting wild, you guys

[panlight]

hi!! i’m so sorry to keep sending you asks (if you get sick of it please just let me know and i’ll shut up i promise!! 💕💕)

so this is re: the cullens being in high school, as per the ask you answered a couple days ago! i also always thought it was super weird, and i’ve been thinking for a while now that a MUCH better cover story would for them all (even carlisle and esme) to be grad school housemates (i say this as someone who has now spent two years in grad school and is about to be there for another five at least lmaoooo)

here’s why i think it would work:

1. the age weirdness wouldn’t be as obvious bc people of all ages go to grad school (i started when i was 22 and had classmates in their 40s)

2. related to age, the visible/physical age also wouldn’t matter as much since some of my classmates (me included 😭😭) looked like we could still pass as high schoolers while others gave off huge “kids and a mortgage vibes” even if they were just like a year older

3. the whole looking “off” and tired thing is just like. the grad school Look™️. the shadows under the eyes and general gaunt-ish appearance honestly wouldn’t stand out that much and if somebody said something about them looking “off” or whatever, they could just be like “late night studying” and the other person would be like “lmao so true bestie”

4. if they pretended they were all renting space in the same big house (and carlisle and esme just acted a little less parental), the whole “dating each other” thing wouldn’t be that weird at all. i feel like it’s not that uncommon for couples who get along to rent different floors or sections of a house, and if they didn’t pretend to be one big weird family situation and instead just acted like they all met each other at school, i don’t think people would even bat an eye

5. people go to grad school forever. like. for so long (i vaguely knew of someone who was in the eighth or ninth year of her phd). esp if they picked something like a big state school where the “kids” could go to undergrad first, they could realistically do four years of undergrad, maybe a two or three year masters, and then a phd of indeterminate length (usually at least five). that would allow them to stay in the same place for at least 11 years

and this is not an official point, but i will note that for carlisle to still do his whole doctor thing, i think it would be perfectly reasonable for him to have already “graduated” or whatever, but continue to stay with his “friends” for financial reasons, or just bc the living situation worked for everyone

anyway, i’m so sorry this was so long, and honestly i bet someone has already said this somewhere before, but it just struck me when reading the “why tf are the cullens in high school” post that grad school would be such a great cover story for them

haha anyway thanks for putting up with my ramblings and thank you for all the lovely work you do on the blog!! 🥰🥰

I've definitely seen "just put them in college!" before (and I have made that argument myself) but I don't know if I've seen the grad school cover story specifically before!

It would allow Esme and/or Carlisle to be the 'peers' of their children rather than some sort of guardian or parental figures. They could, as you said, all be renting a house together and Esme could be studying architecture or getting a PhD in art history or whatever while the kids study who knows what. Maybe there's a medical school as well and Carlisle can go back (it still makes zero sense that Edward and Rosalie go "to keep him current' like how is that supposed to work? They come home and just recite from perfect vampire memory everything that happened in calls? Wouldn't Carlisle be keeping current by like, idk, actually being a doctor, reading journals, going to conferences, and continuing education?).

A group of friends renting a house together as a bunch of couples makes way more sense than two parents barely visibly older than their foster/adopted kids who all date each other.

And, honestly, it's probably a better use of their time to get actual advanced degrees rather than stopping at undergrad? I know because of secrecy how they use their knowledge and skills is somewhat fraught but like, publish papers under a false name or let someone else take the credit or something and you can still contribute to the world of academia.

[frownyalfred]

Hi! I've loved reading your fics and I am currently reading eye in the sky - I was wondering which tumblr posts you were inspired by? thank you.

Mostly the injustice ones! Feel free to check what I've reblogged under that tag, it's probably mostly those. Injustice, while flawed for many reasons, is largely about Clark's devolution from his own hopes and sense of justice. He turns fearful and the world pays the price for it. I wanted to see what that kind of fear would look like, coupled with his love for Bruce (apparent in the dream sequence where Bruce is in prison in Injustice for killing the Joker).

I think, coupled with my recent re-read of Porridge (god damn you author, still haunts me) I wanted to see what that kind of hyperfocus on safety and order looked like also turned onto Bruce. Bruce, who was Clark's last reminder of his normal life without Lois and their unborn child. Without his parents. He's the only one who truly knew Clark, and while Clark hates him for the power he holds, he wants to keep him safe more than anything else. Not just because he's Bruce, but because he's the last of it all.

I think a lot, as a victim of a serious crime myself, about how Injustice is about Clark's inability to handle the randomness and swiftness of violence. His Regime is a reaction to his loss, a new order that purports to prevent anything like that from happening again. But, the moral for me at least is, that kind of vigilance can't prevent tragedy from happening again. And we lose a part of ourselves, when we turn so bitter and suspicious of the world around us. Clark is playing a losing game, holding onto an Earth and a Bruce he thinks he can control and protect.

[sylenth-l]

Hi hello, I love your art so much LIKE MY BROTHER. IT'S SO YUMMY, THE SHADOWS THE EXPRESSIONS, I love how you draw Timur , Felwinter and Osiris together 🙏 little bird with his two funky adoptive parents. I stare at your art like , I'm always ready and hyped to give traditional art another try ✨

If I was to go back, any tips for which watercolours to pick? I so far got only aniline colours.

Aah, thank you so much!! 😳💙

Hmmm, the thing is, I use fountain pen inks almost always for painting. I don't use watercolour much, so I can't really suggest anything in particular… I have a selection of colours from different brands, of course, I know quite a lot about pigments, and I like using watercolour from time to time to add some special effects to my works. For sketching outdoors it's also the easiest to use among all other paints, probably. But painting a whole artwork with it……… I try doing it sometimes, but every single time I end up thinking "God, I wish I used inks instead, I hate this so much, why is it so BLEURGH". I guess watercolour just isn't my medium 😂 

I can share my thinking process when building up a palette though, I use it with all mixable mediums I use, be it inks, watercolour, gouache, etc. I found it to be the most effective (and money-saving, lol) approach for me.

So what I want for my main mixing palette is to have 3 sets of primary trios. All colours also must be as smooth as possible, with no surprises or unwanted colour separation. For watercolour - not granulating ones.

(my camera tends to make all colours brighter and also fails to see the subtle difference between some shades, but you can still get the idea)

The first trio is extremely vivid, consisting of bright cool colours - lemon yellow, cyan, magenta-leaning pink. It gives you access to all the bright, open colours.

Second is the classic they teach in all art schools (probably, from what I've heard, I never went into one alkjdshfk) - sunshine yellow, bright warm red and ultramarine blue. This gives you a huge selection of warmer, natural colours, like all shades of golds, eggplant purples, olive greens, etc. It also allows some nice selection of wood browns.

Third is my personal favorite, the muted trio. You kinda can get similar colours from the previous trio, but I prefer having these separately, because of how often I use them all. It consists of golden ochre-leaning yellow, dark bloody red and dark indanthrone blue. It gives you the most beautiful browns, beiges, blacks and other rich, deep colours.

On top of that I also like to have at least one decent black (in my case it's Quink Black ink, I cannot live without it).  And these 10 would be my essentials. Other colours I add to my mixing palette are basically shortcuts to the shades I find myself mixing the most - like a few browns and violets. There are also a few inks that I need for some very specific purposes - like, I have a very vivid cold magenta ink to mix a certain bright cold shade of the Void, and also a fluorescent orange for adding shiny Exo LED lights. And etc.

(Actually I'm currently in the process of re-organizing my main palette and also considering making a few small sets for painting some characters specifically)

I also have a separate selection of chromatographic inks, which can probably be compared to granulating watercolours… But not quite. A few examples:

Here I don't have any special notes or advices, just get the ink you like and enjoy it. Some of these I use so often that I always keep them in my main palette, and others I only get out for some special occasion. These are also mixable btw - I constantly add other ink in Quink Black to get different shades of it.

However, I must say that not all of the ~special effects~ inks are polite and well-behaved, some will agree to work only on some specific paper after a significant amount of coaxing, and others will straight out say "fuck you" at the most crucial moment, even if they worked perfectly just a moment ago.

Btw, when working with inks, I really recommend to put it into smaller bottles with a dropper, so you don't have to open the big bottle each time. It's both easier to use for you and much safer for inks! 

ANYWAY, I hope this post was of some use for you 🌈

[satoshi-mochida]

Revue Starlight: El Dorado launches August 8

Gematsu Source

(Possible spoilers for Revue Starlight below)

Visual novel Revue Starlight: El Dorado will launch for Switch and PC via Steam on August 8, publisher Bushiroad Games and developer Frontwing announced. It will support English, Japanese, Simplified Chinese, and Traditional Chinese language options.

In Japan, it will be priced at 3,980 yen for the physical standard edition, 14,980 yen for the Starlight Edition, and 39,800 yen for the Super Starlight Edition. The digital standard edition will cost 3,300 yen on Switch, with the PC price still to be determined.

The contents of each edition are as follows:

Standard Edition

A copy of the game

Weiβ Schwarz PR card

Raffle ticket for the stage to be performed in November 2024

Starlight Edition

A copy of the game

Blu-ray disc of Revue Starlight Re LIVE Reading Theatre Part 4 El Dorado – Includes performances of the reading stage performed on December 16 and 17

Weiβ Schwarz PR card

Raffle ticket for the stage to be performed in November 2024

Super Starlight Edition (limited to 999 copies, sold via Bushiroad Online Store raffles)

A copy of the game

Copy of original drawings with serial numbers

Blu-ray disc of Revue Starlight Re LIVE Reading Theatre Part 4 El Dorado – Includes performances of the reading stage performed on December 16 and 17

Weiβ Schwarz PR card

Raffle ticket for the stage to be performed in November 2024

And here is an overview of the game, via its official website:

About

The vast ocean sings to me. I must go and conquer it! Our last summer at Seisho Music Academy… With the 101st Seisho Festival “Starlight” coming up, we the students of the 99th class take up the challenge to perform “El Dorado,” an oceanic epic that Japan is proud of, for our summer performance. The exiled admiral, Salvatore Guglie. The heir to a royal Spanish family, Alejandro Javier Cavallero Cruz. Who will “we” choose… between the “two protagonists” of this story?

Characters

Karen Aijo – “No matter what waters I have to cross, I will… definitely reach you!” A Stage Girl who traded fates with her childhood friend Hikari to “stand on that stage together someday,” after being entranced by the stage play “Starlight” she watched as a child. She gave her all in performing “Starlight” with Hikari, and now begins to walk towards the “next stage” by herself.

Hikari Kagura – “I don’t need destiny or oaths anymore!” A Stage Girl who has loved stage plays since she was a child, and was led into the world of stage plays after watching “Starlight” with Karen. After performing the “fated stage play” with Karen, she has currently returned to studying at London’s Royal Institute of Dramatic Arts. She is striving towards becoming a stage actress while dreaming of the day she reunites with Karen on the stage.

Maya Tendo – “May my revenge shine beautifully as my fuel.” She is the top student at Seisho Music Academy. A thoroughbred, with both parents being prominent figures in the world of theater. Despite overflowing talent in acting, singing, and dancing, she is a proudly independent Stage Girl who has never become conceited and continues to aim to be the best. Aiming to join the New National First Theater Troupe, she imposes strict lessons on herself even today. Maya-sama continues to be Maya-sama even in her third year.

Junna Hoshimi – “I myself emit glimmering lights… A lighthouse star on the Evening Star!” A Stage Girl who keeps taking on stage plays with her vast amount of reading and solid knowledge, she is the most talented girl since the inception of Seisho Music Academy. She was once desperate to catch up with the frontrunners of the scene, but now aims to be a “dazzling protagonist” and sets her eyes far ahead in her own future. She is the former 99th Student Council President of Seisho Music Academy.

Mahiru Tsuyuzaki – “I will decide my own drama… burning myself like the Sun!” Karen and Hikari’s roommate. She is a cheerful Stage Girl with a vast range of expressiveness, and is looked up to by her juniors, but can get extraordinarily scary when angered. She gave Hikari a push of motivation and sent her on her way to share the fated stage play with Karen. She aims to join the New National First Theater Troupe, in order to become a Star who brings smiles to everyone.

Nana Daiba – “I’ll… go slicing for a bit.” She is Junna’s roommate, and at the same time, a Stage Girl with extraordinary talent in both performing and stage creation. She often has the chance to bake together with Mahiru, and she is affectionately nicknamed “Banana.” She loves everyone who helps to create the stage together, and that is the reason why she sometimes shows a ruthless side.

Claudine Saijo – “Thanks to you and my unjustified resentment!” She is a former child actress who has starred in numerous stage plays and movies from a young age. A pure-hearted and highly experienced Stage Girl who knows the ropes of a stage play. Although she honed her skills against Maya as her greatest rival, she returned to her roots in France after graduation and is slated to join a revue in Paris.

Futaba Isurugi – “I don’t want to see a version of you who’s good-mannered and runs neatly!” Unmatched when it comes to sword fights and action. She is a Stage Girl with great expressive power hidden in her small frame. She and Kaoruko have been stuck together since young. They both enrolled in the same school, and she drives them both to and from school on her motorbike. However, she has decided to walk her own path by accepting the challenge of the New National First Theater Troupe, and has entrusted her beloved bike to Kaoruko.

Kaoruko Hanayagi – “A competitive performance between the top stars of the Senka-ryu School and New National… I’d like such a stage play, someday.” The granddaughter of the head of the family that runs the Senka-ryu School of Japanese Dance. After graduation, she returned to Kyoto. She is a Stage Girl who lives a life of history and traditions, and will succeed the name of the 12th Head of Family, “Suisen Hanayagi.” After a huge quarrel, she accepts Futaba’s chosen path and sends her on her way. She is currently considering what to do with the motorbike that Futaba left behind with her, while grumbling that it is “a bother.”

Kiriko Masai and Shion Amemiya – “We are from the Stage Play Creation Program, in 99th Class Group B!” “In order to create an even stronger, even better Position Zero, become even greedier!” From the 99th Class Group B Stage Play Creation Program. Amemiya writes scripts with all her body and soul, while Masai flutters around controlling the stage. The two are also roommates. They stand at the forefront of Group B, having worked on many of the 99th Class’s stage plays, taking on hardships even while clashing and arguing. Before their final summer in the exchange program, they challenge making a stage play with a certain resolve in their hearts.

Judy Knightley – “If you seek a new universe… tear apart your wailing, and overcome the sea of blood!” A Stage Girl who boasts having top grades at London’s Royal Institute of Dramatic Arts, a school that is renowned for being the hardest in the world to get into. With outstanding acting skills and expressiveness that has been lauded even in the British theater world, she is a professional stage actress with a promising future. She has arrived at Seisho Music Academy for an exchange program, and stands in the way of the students in the 99th Class with her overwhelming brilliance.

[Update: Added the opening movie.]

[eilinelsghost]

I’m quite fascinated by the way that you “play chess with LaCE” (love that phrasing, btw) especially when it comes to Russingon. I’m curious how and why you chose to write it as you did, particularly what seems to be Maedhros’ choice not to marry Fingon? If you intend to expand on this later in the series, of course I’ll gladly wait. But if you can say anything now, I do love your commentaries - they’re always so insightful. :)

So! This is a finnicky one to answer. But I will do my best! This got long, so I'll break it up by each part of the question:

Let's Play Chess with LaCE

The "let's play chess with LaCE" tag is sort of a joke to myself. It originated because that's what the whole thing felt like when I started working on the series. I've talked elsewhere about how the entire Atandil story came about because I was annoyed by seeing several Finrod/Bëor posts and went back to reread the Athrabeth to marinate in how impossible it was....and then came out of that obsessed with the two of them and with half this story pre-formed in my head. The upshot of this was that a) I knew I wanted to write this story, but b) it was very important to me that it operated "within" canon rather than disregarding it, and c) that I needed to find some way to do this where Finrod was (at least not consciously) a complete hypocrite in the Athrabeth.

But the tag is sort of a joke with myself because it also represents how Finrod is throughout the narrative. He's just in a constant chess-game with his own convictions, with his shifting understanding of what it all means, and with what actions are "right" given those factors. This is becoming increasingly apparent in the current installments where he is trying to find ways of inhabiting both things at once without crossing into what he fears would be transgressing Doom.

But Balan, for all he will say that Finrod "understands far more of our lore than do I of his philosophy" (The Warning Sounds Too Late), can play chess just as well and is perfectly capable of calling Finrod on his bullshit even when (especially when) it's his philosophy. And (spoiler) he will.

Portrayal of LaCE in Atandil

As far as "why I chose to write it as I did," I assume this means re how exactly Atandil depicts marriage happening in a LaCE-compliant story, specifically in the latest installment with Fingon/Maedhros? If so, the simple answer is because this is what LaCE says. I know we often talk about it as being "you have sex, you get elf-married," but that isn't actually what the text tells us.

Here is the oft-quoted statement that Elves can and did "marry thus of free consent."

But.

It is caveated with a parenthetical and we can't ignore that. Because "save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name" is a requirement just as much as the bodily union is a requirement.

Even in the original description of a traditional ceremony, we are told that "it was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete" (emphasis mine). It was the final act in the sequence of acts that culminated in an Elf-marriage - the one that completes it, not the thing within which the whole is encapsulated.

Hilariously (given the "just have sex and you're married!" assumptions), the blessings that this parenthetical references are the ones of the father and mother (see the screenshot below where these are cited as the blessings attached to the naming of the Name).

Obviously this was not going to be possible in many of the quick wartime marriages the text is discussing, so presumably the naming of Varda and Manwë in witness is something that is either taken on by other representatives who stand in for the parents in a barebones ceremony, or by the pair themselves if alone - as evidenced by endnote 9 in the first screenshot which directs us to this regarding Beren & Lúthien:

All that to say, that is the reason I chose to write LaCE the way I did: because it's how I've always understood the text.

Fingon & Maedhros

Regarding Fingon and Maedhros specifically, I'm afraid I don't really have a detailed answer for you here besides "it worked for the narrative."

Having concrete evidence of a) the incompleteness of Finrod's understanding of this so far and b) the fact that this is something done in practice by people he knows well and is not just a hypothetical was going to be necessary to set Finrod in a prolonged wobble about his own convictions re the whole situation. I won't expand on that here because we will go into that in the story itself, but that's the strategic reason for the specific Russingon depiction in Atandil.

Speaking generally though, I don't have particularly strong Russingon feelings and so I struggled quite a bit trying to figure out how to approach this. They sort of exist by default in the background for me, but I don't really have a lot of well-developed ideas around them. However I checked with some other friends who do have a lot more Russingon insight and who have also adhered to the nonmarried option (credit to @welcomingdisaster and @thelordofgifs for the following thoughts), and they said this is because both Fingon and Maedhros are already bound to other things: Fingon's loyalty is foremost to Fingolfin and Maedhros' is to the Silmarils/the Oath.

And that is my best attempt at answering! Sorry this got absurdly longwinded 😂

As always, thanks so much for the ask! It was really fun to have a reason to try wrangling my thoughts on this into written form.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Pizza Or TV Dinner? 🔪

⚣🔪 A/N → This was a request from my other account that is still currently shadowbanned and restricted. So re-posting it over here. My message on the original post stills stands as well. I'd absolutely melt like butter on a pan...is it still sad? Maybe. Do I still not care? absolutely. And thank you💛 I’m glad you enjoy them😊

⚣🔪 Summary → You're cooking dinner for you and Conner when you make a small slip-up. But, don't worry, your Kryptonian boyfriend has just the key to make you feel better, at the cost of your special dinner.

⚣🔪 Words → 933

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🔪

“Fuck!”

Now, you understood why your parents never allowed you within 10 feet of any sharp object. Well, really anything. 

You always somehow found a way to hurt yourself. 

As a joke, they’d call you Danger Prone-Daphne’s cousin, a nickname that to your extreme annoyance, your entire family had decided to brand you with.

“Babe!” You heard Conner, your boyfriend, shout from down the hall.

The Kryptonian was staying at your house, taking advantage of your parents being out of town so you two could have some alone time together. It was hard to come by since when both of you were at the Cave, someone was always around. And even if you two went to his room, someone would come by and disturb you.

Especially M’Gann with her jealous and needy ass. 

So when you’re parents announced they were leaving for the next couple of days on an anniversary cruise, you decided to invite your boyfriend to stay at your place for the extent of their vacation because, let’s face it; your pops would actually try to murder the dark brown-haired boy if he found out he was sleeping in your bed with you. 

When he got there, you decided you wanted to be romantic and cutesy and cook a delicious meal for you both. And everything was going fine until your finger had gotten too close to the knife while you were cutting the meat into smaller pieces.

Conner was in the living room, watching TV when he heard you shout with his super hearing. You didn’t scream that loud, at least you don’t think you did. He ran into the kitchen, his face full of panic as he saw you holding your bloody finger.

“I’m fine. I accidentally cut myself with the knife while cutting this steak into smaller pieces.” You affirmed, moving to the sink to stick your finger under cold water. You winced at the sting, watching the blood wash down the drain. Is it a bloody steak if it doesn’t have a little blood in it?

Your Kryptonian came over to examine your finger, rubbing his fingers over your wrist in a calming manner while placing his other arm around your waist, hugging you to his body.

“What were you even doing? I thought your parents said you weren’t allowed to touch sharp objects. Even Batman banned you from it after that incident with Robin’s Batarang.” He brought up, also highly to your annoyance.

“Okay, that wasn’t my fault! You shouldn’t have been sparring without your shirt cause you know that distracts me. And Wally shouldn’t have been standing so close.” You responded with an eye roll, crossing one of your arms over your chest in annoyance.

“I’m sorry my body is such a distraction to you.” He joked, chuckling at your childish behavior.

You let out a ‘hmph,’ not appreciating him laughing at you. He rubbed at your back, silently waiting for you to answer his question.

“I wanted to cook you dinner.” You whined, feeling your finger starting to feel like it was freezing from the cold water, but the blood was still running from the cut.

Conner’s heart swelled at your admittance, once again questioning how he ended up with someone so devastatingly handsome and adorable at the same time.

“I appreciate it, baby. But we could’ve just ordered some food. I’d rather that or even put one of those frozen TV dinners in the microwave than you getting hurt.” He voiced, moving his finger under the cold stream of water to rub at your sore finger.

“That’s not as special.” You replied with a whining voice still.

“Anything from you is special to me,” He remarked, kissing your head.

He held you against his body, now fully holding your hands in his, and then you felt your body vibrating, hearing a purring sound against your ear that pressed to his body.

Ever since you discovered that Kryptonians purr with their loved ones in any situation where they feel safe and loved, you found it so satisfying and reassuring whenever your boyfriend did it with you. It was like you were literally getting to hear his love for you without him having to speak words.

Whenever you two cuddled together after a long day, or when Conner was helping you take care of some of your harsher bruises or injuries, he’d start purring since it was also known to help speed up the healing process. Not by much, but it also helped dull any soreness and pain.

You tucked your head into his chest, loving the sound of his purr and his firm, calloused hand holding yours, which reminded you…

Add hand lotion to your shopping list.

Conner and the others made fun of you for it, but you were very serious when you said you’d rather see Joker in a bikini before letting your hands get dry and calloused. Besides, you knew he liked how soft and smooth your hands were. It helped you that you wore gloves whenever on missions as well.

You both sat silent for a while, not realizing how Conner’s purring was actually starting to vibrate the whole room, causing things on the counter to shake. You were jolted from your comfortable stances when you heard the sound of a loud crash, looking to see the cutting board with the meat lying flat on the ground.

“Welp, pizza or TV dinner?” You asked, looking up at your Kryptonian boyfriend.

“You choose.” He answered with a kiss on your lips.

“You know I hate it when you do that, right?”

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[beesmygod]

What are some of your favorite pieces of art/ art that has made you think a lot?

this is such a cheesy cop-out answer, but there's a lot of things that im going to struggle remembering because of 1. how situational the experience was (as in, the context in which i experienced the piece) 2. how wide the word "art piece" is. 3. the great fortune to have been born to parents with strong artistic sensibilities and a love of travel/education. so these are like. really weird and specific but maybe thats the way it should be:

let's start with the most overly dramatic: st. paul's cathedral in london has guided tours where they take you into rooms and let you mill around before moving to the next one. my family took a trip overseas as a really, really big special vacation to celebrate my sister and i graduating from high school (we're not twins, we just combo'd it after she graduated) that i was too brain-broken and teenage to fully appreciate. its a beautiful cathedral but i was in my edgy internet atheist stage and refused to be impressed by it until i stood over a grate in the floor. through the grates you can see the crypt that you visit next. but standing over the grate, someone below started to sing something hymnal and very catholic. and i realized i was the only one who could hear it because of the crowd chatter. and it made me feel, in the moment, so special and so lonely in a way that i still think about, a lot. it was for me only. divine providence.

a date with adam to a place i had no idea existed but he had been to before: the bad art museum, which is split over like 3 different buildings in a bizarre way. we only went to the one where you have to buy a ticket to a movie as entry and it was some truly lovely bad art and made me sad how inaccessible it was but resolute about my love of the nuances of uncelebrated anti-art masterpieces. then we watched "assassination nation" and it was fucking terrible. great date.

reading the theory regarding the "venus of willendorf" being a self portrait as a 20-something year old and running into the bathroom to take my clothes off and look down at myself and having my mind blown. not just by how much i instantly understood it, but because of the tugging feeling on my heart when i feel that strand of history connecting women artists driven by that unknown compulsion to create for creations sake!

similarly, seeing artemisia gentileschi's work next to her fathers and realizing how much she outclassed him in every single way and feeling the tugging feeling again, but this time with a dark woe of realization of how history minimizes achievement and talent when it eases a narrative

reading jane erye's descriptions of herself and her approaches to her plights and for the first time feeling like someone had walked a path that i currently found myself lost on.

reading 1984 as a middle schooler and becoming so angry at the ending i threw the book across the room (something i had never done before and never did again in my life) and stormed out of my room to complain to my mom lol. IT REALLY UPSET ME!!!

reading les miserables for the first time and weeping piteously for days after the ending and having it impact my brain so hard it re-wired how i think about the concept of "legacy" and what it means to matter in the world and how love is nothing without the courage to stand up for it. and that mercy should, and will, always supersede unwavering justice (hard lesson to remember, maybe im due for a re-read)

sneaking into my parents room to read the books i wasnt supposed to yet as a really little kid lol. my mom used to get "dykes to watch out for" in a newsletter she was subscribed to! but i didnt read those bc they were dumb relationship comics for grown-ups. i wanted to read about opus the penguin and lee iacocca, as if i knew who that was. my mother's comic collection was the single most influential constant in my life. knowing that i was exposed to bill watterson's commentary about his own work via the big collections my mom owned probably explains a lot about what's wrong with me. but she also had a lot of berke breathed before he fully wussed out

the general experience of playing a video game that you arent supposed to/when you arent supposed to is probably one of the most freeing means of meaningless rebellion as a kid that everyone should experience. i used to be up playing pokemon past my bedtime under my covers with a huge heavy rubber flashlight i stole from the kitchen and had to replace every morning without getting caught once i was done with it. god, the days before backlit screens we had to get really fucking wild with it. in high school i would wake up at 5:00am, sneak into the computer room where the ps2 was and play an hour of FFX bc its the longest fucking non-persona game in the world, stop playing before my mom woke up at 6:00am and sneak back into bed. if i hit a part where i couldnt save i would just turn the screen off and come back to it tomorrow lol. secrets......

reading the "pictures for sad children" arc about paul, who is a ghost, finally losing it and going on a rant about how it has never mattered how thin a computer screen is. they were right and reading it helped me articulate and understand a growing feeling of restless frustration at the world around me that i felt singular and alone in. im glad that last i heard that artist is doing ok. i hope they recognize the incredible value in their work as imperfect as they perceived it to be. i do not think they would be happy to know that their old work was impactful, but i hope they realize that what people are able to tease out of their work is meaningful, at least to me it is. ill transcribe the comic rather than repost it i think: paul [while smashing electronics]: "have i told you about [bam] how nerds destroy the world take conspicuous consumption as a lifestyle choice and combine it with early hardware adoption and you have great swaths of gadgetry out of stock because they're incrementally better than the last model and there are landfills full of functioning electronics wasted time, resources, money, etc. the best part is that these things were never necessary it has never mattered how thing a computer is." [smash]

this is too long. i like art.

[siarven]

I made this for cara but thought I should use it to FINALLY make a proper pinned post on here! (image descriptions in alt text)

Hello everyone (:

I thought I'd use this to properly re-introduce myself. These days I have a lot going on irl, so I'm not as interactive on here as I used to be. However, I love making new friends and getting to know their projects :D Some of my most important friends are from here, even if most of them are no longer active on writeblr (we have migrated to discord), so if you think we'd vibe pls shoot me a message!!

What you can expect:

Started out as an artblr, then turned into a writeblr, now it's mostly me collecting inspiration, art and writing references, with some infrequent original writing wip/art posts ✴︎ — more info about tags and writing below the cut — ✴︎

✴︎ — #queer tag - I reblog a lot of queer related posts, particularly about aro/ace and gender related topics

✴︎ — #inspirational - art, writing, photography, nature/environmental issues related topics, history, paleontology, archaeology; things I find inspiring and fascinating :D

✴︎ — i love all of the creatures, fictional or real, but less in a "cute videos" and more in a "I love how our world works" type way. I worked at a wildlife sanctuary for a year after school and learned a lot there. one day i will be the forever home for an old cat nobody else wants

✴︎ — sometimes I still post art and or writing, though I guess there'll be more art on Cara if you wanna follow me there (less AI threat)

✴︎ — i study concept art, work as a freelance illustrator, and am currently working on my MA thesis project "Fragments of the Infinite"

✴︎ — my main wip novel (Dream's Shadow) is probably finally getting close to being Finished. Feels somewhat surreal. idk if it's even worth querying it because it really doesn't fit into the current publishing world but it's not actually finished yet anyway so... we can worry about that later

✴︎ — very into fantasy with cool worldbuilding in particular. don't much care for elves/dwarves/.. fantasy preindustrial england type worlds, but dungeon meshi is my current obsession so if it's deeply developed and interesting enough I don't really mind :)

✴︎ — hopepunk my most beloved! i do love when characters get put through the wringer to get to their hopeful ending though. Sometimes, things are tragic in a bittersweet way, and that is okay too

✴︎ — deeply nuanced, complicated, messy morally grey characters driving the narrative

I am open to tag games, but will probably only manage to respond to like 10% of them... it's not you, it's me

Always open for DMs or asks <3

I try to tag everything as well as I can, if i forget, ask to tag <3

If you're into TMA, I have a podcast/TMA blog @moth-song-archives; my rambling animals/shitposts/memes/other fandoms/... blog is @lirhin, and I have a dedicated art blog @siarvenart

a hopepunk dark fantasy story with creepy/horror elements set in another world; small scope that transitions into epic fantasy later on

Status: draft 6.5 completed at 141k; currently mini-beta round. First in a trilogy

✴︎ —1st, 2nd and 3rd person limited, present tense ✴︎ — hopepunk, sibling dynamics, dysfunctional family, power of kindness & love, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, secrets, tragedy, lies, betrayal, loss of innocence, holding on & letting go, cute creatures, (in)humanity, trees, religion & belief, growing up, monsters, dreams, nightmares.

When Ava and her parents arrive at the hospital, they find her older brother Ben in a deeply unnatural coma - and nobody can tell them what happened. Despite the magical abilities of the Asim Healers, there seems to be no way to save him. But then, why do they still keep him alive? As Ava slowly learns the magnitude of how terrible Ben's situation (and impossible his future) truly are, she finds herself embroiled in a larger conflict, ready to hook its claws into her as well. And the one person she cares about most - who always had her back - is gone. So despite everything, there's only really one choice: Find out how to save him and try anyways.

the travel journal of a young scientist, documenting the cultures, places, people and creatures she encounters on the way (art/text)

Status: storyboard/script 2nd draft completed; beta feedback

✴︎ —1st person present ✴︎ — 66 double pages of art accompanied by ~10k text ✴︎ — hopepunk, (body) horror, religion & belief, nihilism vs making your own meaning, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, transitioning with magical body horror means, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, deep worldbuilding, eldritch monsters, loss of innocence, SO MANY creatures

Features: a tidally locked planet orbited by 5 moons and populated by giant eldritch monsters; two trans aroace main characters; body horror; so much art; the most gratuitous worldbuilding project; character driven narrative

When the fifth moon hatches during Thorn's own naming ritual, making her one of 2 people who saw it happen, she knows she's been chosen. But back at home, nobody believes what she saw, choosing to instead take the moon's disappearance as a sign of celebration as it mirrors religious scriptures. So Thorn sets out to find physical proof, and uses the opportunity to document her travels. She doesn't know that her view of the world will be thoroughly challenged, but she also doesn't know about the friends she'll make <3

I have various other wips, some of them are linked in my header. I'll return to them at some point, but these 2 are my current projects for 2024:)