#in like three/four years but still in my heart of hearts i identify as a blonde. like i get confused when people don't count me as one

[sugarsnappeases]

thank you for the tag @fxreflyes this is so cute, except the format is trying to hinder my propensity to ramble, so i’ve rectified this in the tags lmao

i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child

no pressure tags for @static-radio-ao3 @inevitablestars @itsjaywalkers @carniferous @orbitfalls @transsexualpriest @futurequibblerjournalist <333

[dilfartist]

Selfish

Pairing; Yandere Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; You escape your captor during one of his many missions. You stop by a diner searching for help. What will happen next? Find out by reading

Word count; 3.8K

TW; Kidnapping, non-con touching, Stockholm syndrome, maybe just a tad bit ooc, Yandere (obviously), obsessive behavior, cussing.

Notes; hopefully you enjoy reading. It’s not the best since I’m still maturing as a writer and because of my hiatus; but I hope you enjoy.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Sapphire-embellished twilight transitions into dawn’s light blue hue bringing alongside the sun. Birds sang good morning to one another, on their side of the forest. You ambled down the road that ceased the strong odored forest from connecting.

You stared at the endless road up ahead. Night to morning, ahead of you was forest and road. Perhaps this reason is why your captor moved into the isolated forest since raccoon city incident.

Or maybe he wanted to live a life of normalcy given the opportunity; the monsters he claimed he fought, seemingly every month, stressed him greatly and you noticed. Plus, he mentioned he needed a vacation frequently.

You pause, double-checking onward on the ostensibly never-ending road. Was your hard work a waste of time?

Looking back on the way he treated you, you pondered if it would have been smarter to stay home. Most days he wasn't overbearing. Once in a while, he’d annoy you, other than that he was tolerable. Besides being unable to leave the house unattended and having no say in choices at times, he gave you more freedom than most.

But then you remember the day before. At the crack of dawn, he’d left for a mission: bidding you goodbye with a note and breakfast at your night table side. You were left all alone, so naturally you sought a form of entertainment.

The television; Which was your only option.

You were clicking through the television channels when you came across a crime documentary. The story was similar to your personal life so you continued to watch the channel.

The story was about a woman, age twenty-three, who was kidnapped for around four years. During her kidnapping, she fell deeply in love with her kidnapper to the point they had to detach her from the cop car when they arrested him.

In your situation, you’ve been abducted for at least eight months. Her situation only took a year till she developed Stockholm syndrome.

Clarified by the show as the psychological condition of a victim who identifies with and empathizes with their captor or abuser and their goals.

Learning this information a thought came to mind.

Would you become like her once it hits New Year's? Loyal to a man that took you away from society. No. You refused to allow the same situation to happen to you.

You’d never allow it to happen.

When it came to the relationship your captor so desperately longed for with you, you caused many difficulties to prevent any form of romance.

Any attempt at affection had him pushed away or smacked. Discussion about the past before your absconding was simply ignored. And in general, you kept your distance from him. Well, at least you tried to. He stays at your hip like a lost puppy majority of the time he has off work, talking your ear off. There was no way in hell you’d fall for him. Not after the months you spent in that isolated house.

Regardless of how certain you were, you mulled over it some more. You finally concluded running. So far, you felt regret and relief.

Out of nowhere, a loud reverberating sound of a car grew closer, arising behind you. You quickly spun around to see what the sound originated from.

The engine growled, sending a ping of fright to your heart. You spent no time thinking about Leon’s reaction to your escape. However, now your mind consumes thoughts of his response.

Could your captor's fury be so robust that the car in the distance embodied his rage? Knowing him since your best friend introduced you to the man becoming a rookie cop in raccoon city; you’ve never seen him enrage.

From time to time his witty replies and mean scowl would showcase his anger. Of course, that didn't mean his rage wasn't feasible. But never had you ever witnessed a stronger emotion from him.

Inching closer, you were able to discern the details of the car. It was a massive black car, with tinted windows. A car your captor might arrive home with after a mission. It announced its presence with its vociferous roaring.

You observe with dread blooming in the pit of your stomach, every other part of your body tingled.

Although the person driving the car was yet to be revealed, you were petrified, stuck in place like you had been glued onto the concrete below you.

It must be him.

Why else would they be heading so fast toward you?

Already, you’re willing to surrender. Your captor is a forgiving person when it comes to you, so there’s a likelihood he’ll forgive you if you cooperate.

Standing on the side of the road, you acquiescently wait for the car to stop. Waiting for him to take you back to your prison.

The car slows but even then it's at a fast pace. The car passes you momentarily. Slightly it reverses until the passenger window is in front of you. Unhurriedly, the shadowy window rolls down. In the driver's seat, instead of who you believed it to be, it was a woman.

She looked to be in her middle thirties. She wore black sunglasses in her strawberry-blonde hair, a red blouse with denim jeans. Her makeup reminded you of Jennifer Tilly in Bride of Chucky, but she wore a sweet smile.

“Oh my lord, are you alright darling?” The woman asked like you were a child outside without a jacket in the freezing winter.

You continued to stare at her. You wanted to say something, but your throat felt drier than sandpaper. You opened your mouth, wheezing a bit as you sipped the fresh air. “I don't know,” you responded as loud as you possibly could. So barely above a whisper.

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Are you safe?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

The woman shook her head disapprovingly, then she began to throw whatever laid in the passenger seat into the backseats. “Come on sugar, get inside. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She reached over and pushed the passenger door open. You entered the vehicle, settled in, and got comfy. You buckled in making sure you heard the reassuring click.

“There you go,” she commented with a smile. “Now, we're going to make a stop by a gas station, then we’ll find out what we can do with you. Is that alright?

You smiled back, “Yeah, I don't mind.”

The car began to ride forward and the air conditioning blew on your overheated body. You relished the cold air. You hadn't realized how hot it had been outside, even in the early morning. Where were you?

You put that thought aside. Now you needed to worry about something to drink and eat.

“Do you…have anything to drink or eat?” you glanced at the woman.

She nodded. “Of course sweety! Why didn't I offer before?” she looked away from the street to grab a half-empty bottle of water from the side of the driver's door. “Sorry, that's the only drink I have at the moment.” she apologizes.

Without a second thought, you unscrewed the cap off the water and chugged the water. Water had never tasted so refreshing before. It was like you’d been roaming in the desert for hours on end and finally found a source of water.

The woman glances at you. You must have looked crazy. “How long have you been out there?”

“Since eight last night.” You sounded better. No more raspy voice that hurts you to speak. “I should have packed a bag but something came up.”

Before you left the house last night, you weren't in your right mind. Your captor never gave you an exact time he’d be home. His return ranged between the eight at night, the dead of night, the crack of dawn, or the morning. Recently, he’d been arriving home at eight. Which is the reason you left with nothing. Looking back, you had no confidence in yourself at getting away. You believed you were going to be caught in a matter of ten minutes. Now look at you.

You turned to the woman, “Thanks…” She finishes the sentence with her name. “Amanda.” You nod rephrasing your sentence, “Thanks Amanda for picking me up.”

Amanda smiles again, this time wider showing off her pearly white teeth. “I couldn't just leave you out there. Now, what’s your name?”

You tell her your name and hope she somehow knows it. Maybe the news reported you missing when you weren’t watching. You hoped so.

Rather than freaking out, realizing she had found a missing person, she simply responded with a “nice to meet you.” You died a little at the rejoinder.

Did no one care enough to report your absence? Not your family or close friends, no one attempted to reach out to the police?

No. You’re just overthinking. Not everyone watches the news or actively looks for missing people. You just had to be around more people. Someone was bound to know your identity.

Still, you can’t ignore the way your hands shake at the thought of being forgotten.

“So what were you out there for? If you don’t mind sharing that is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What were you to say? Tell her the truth and find out she was with your captor the whole time or keep your mouth shut and have no help in case he does find you.

A white lie would help.

“Escaping my abusive boyfriend.”

A frown pulled at the woman’s plump lips, her eyebrows scrunching together at your answer. “Do I need to the cops, family members?”

“No,” you responded quickly and harshly. The car fell silent. You took a small breather before speaking. “No, thank you.”

“Please, tell me, is there anything else I can do to help you any further?”

You needed cash, shelter, and a job. There was only one thing you were sure she could help you with. “ I need money and a hotel.”

“Don't worry, I got you covered,” she said softly.

The car began to slow when she placed her foot on the break. She turned the car and moved into a spot that contained a combination of a gas station and an old fashion diner. She parked the car next to a gas pump, then powered it off.

She dug into the middle counsel, pushing around pens and important items, and pulled out a pink wallet. She unzipped the front zipper and pulled out some money.

Amanda held the cash out to you, “Here’s 100 dollars. There's enough for lasting food, a hotel to stay, and a bus.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt just to hug her tightly. “Thank you!” you repeat over and over, like an unanswered prayer. She returned the hug, telling you she didn't mind lending you some service. The hug ended and you needed to plan your next move. What would you spend your money on first?

Well, all you knew was what you’d spend what was given to you on something important.

You looked out the window. Your eyes shift toward the diner. Mo’s dinner was on the sign, “been here since the ’50s.” which was written below.

Right. Food. You haven't eaten since yesterday. Walking as long as you did, you tried to forget your hunger and focus on the main goal of finding shelter or at least some safety.

“I think I’ll have myself a hot breakfast!” you announced. Amanda unlocked the passenger door, “go right ahead. Enjoy your freedom.” You nod, fleeing the car akin to a little kid whose mother gave them money for an ice cream from the ice cream truck.

The entrance bell chimes when you open the door to the cream-colored establishment. Once inside, you settled yourself in a booth in the far back. An old jukebox plays aged music ranging from the 70s to the ’50. Besides you, there was a single person in the restaurant. A man at the bar sipping his morning coffee whilst reading the newspaper.

You extend your arm over to the menu across the table. The menu displays numerous appetizing dishes, varying from breakfast to a juicy steak dinner.

Flipping the page your eyes landed on a mouthwatering breakfast sandwich, including bacon, egg, and cheese.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Stephanie, I’ll be serving you this morning. What would you like?”

You placed the menu aside to give the waitress your whole attention. The woman was of average height, wearing a pink uniform that reminded you of the 50s. She wore a smile that did not reach her black doe eyes. “Did you hear any of that?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, feeling anxious about possibly pissing her off. “Could I have a number six and a sweet tea?”

“Of course, is that it?”

“Umm…yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright then,” she replied disinterestedly. She left quickly, retreating to the kitchen.

You continue gazing at the closed door to the kitchen. What else could you do? You should have brought along something to entertain you, then again there wasn't much back at the house you called a jail cell. For the remainder of the waiting duration, you’d have your thoughts to amuse your lethargy.

Ding Ding

Instinctively, your head turned. 50s music began to fade, superseded by the loud thumping of your heart. Your breathing became shaky, parallel to your hands. Dirty blonde hair is what you see first. It’s him! You repeat in your head, like a religious prayer.

“Jessica, hey!” you heard a joyous exclamation. You watch as the man from the bar rushes over to the person entering the restaurant. Your anxiety left as quickly as it came. A hand places itself onto your cheat, and on the spot your heart thumped rapidly. You had to calm down. You took deep breaths, and your heart slowed with each sip of air. You rest your head on the table.

After taking the time to calm yourself, you analyzed the restaurant furthermore. Now, the place was vacant, since the man had left. Fifteen minutes passed and you found a newspaper from the newspaper rack adjacent to the front entrance.

Nothing in the article was new to you. At your captor’s home, you watched the news almost once a week to see if anyone had reported your disappearance. Nothing ever came up though. At least you were up to date with everything going on.

Your waitress finally returned, carrying your meal on a maroon-colored tray in her left hand. “Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Kitchen malfunction.” she apologized, giving you a guileless smile. This would be the only expression besides tedium that you’d receive from her.

“It's alright,” you said, watching as she placed the food on the table for you to dig into. She left carrying the tray back to the kitchen she emerged from.

You took a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. Juicy and delicious are solely vivid words to illustrate the taste. The egg had a spongy texture that combines well with melted cheese. And the hickory bacon wasn’t too crispy or chewy, it was simply perfect.

Back at the prison, your captor wasn't the best cook. But he tried to be for you. Still, you preferred takeout. Chinese, Italian, and burgers began to become a boring taste on your taste buds. Having a breakfast sandwich was refreshing, to say the least.

“Enjoying your meal, huh?” rough voice inquiries. The question was said cockily but their wrath was audible in the way the last word was spoken.

You stop mid-chew, the overwhelming flavor vanishing from your mind. It now tasted bland. You kept your eyes shut. Were you afraid? No. Afraid couldn't explain the ineffable amount of dread you felt at the moment. Ruffling could be heard on the opposite side of the table; He was sitting down. Your eyes open involuntarily like your body already knew what he wanted it to do.

Across the table, seating snugly is your captor; Leon Kennedy. He looks rougher than the last time you’ve spoken. The dark circle underneath his eye has grown darker. His brunette roots have begun peaking out ruining his natural blonde facade. And he looked exhausted. Must have stayed up all night looking for you.

He looked more than pissed. He appeared disgruntled. Compared to Leon, you were small. But now, Leon was like a giant towering over you. Despite never abusing you in any shape or form, your body shakes like a leaf in the wind. The way he glares down at you drives you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Do you know how long I've been up for, y/n?” he asks whilst pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket.

Regardless of how parched you are, you force yourself to converse with him. “No,” you're voice is brisk and faint.

“Two days. For two days I’ve been on my feet.” He takes a swig of the flask and then continues to rant. “I could have joined you in bed and fallen asleep, but there was a problem. You weren't anywhere.”

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell is the matter with you? You could have gotten hurt. You probably are.”

Leon is getting angrier, you can tell by the way the furrowed eyebrows deepen and his frown morphs into a glower, as he utters each sentence.

“I’m sorry.” That's all you can say. It's all that comes to mind.

“Sorry won’t make up for the scars you've gotten.” he retorts angrily.

Now you're mirroring his expression. You’re angry and tired as well. Definitely not as tired as him but still tired. “You’re acting as if I didn't have a good reason to run.” you petulantly cross your arms, akin to a child not getting a toy from the store.

Leon wasn’t delusional. Back in the day, when he was a rookie cop, in some aspects he was delusional. However, as the years continue to pass so does his past self. Leon understands what he has done to you is inhumane, but he can’t help it. He kept you locked away for a reason. You won’t get hurt with him by your side.

Leon sighs, closing his eyes and leaning closer with his forearms on the table. “I know, I know.”

You tilt your head, “really? So, why are you mad at me?”

His eyes open, displaying icy-blue orbs. They hold Empathy in them. Empathy Leon has a difficult time communicating to you.

“I keep you in the house for your safety.” He began, taking your hands into his own. “To keep our relationship safe.”

“But I don’t want a relationship with you.”

“I know.”

“So why are you forcing me to stay with you?!”

Leon’s hands squeezed yours, provoking a cry out of you. “All my life I’ve been a generous man. I saved many and gave up my life for others. I’m always providing for someone else and rarely caring for myself. And the one thing I yearn for to the point I was convinced I deserved it. It was you.”

For a beat, he ceases his gabbing. Leon stares down at your connected hands, his thumb starts rubbing against the back of your hand. It’s a domestic act that earns your displeasure.

“For once, allow me to be selfish,” he mumbles, eyes slowly trailing up to meet yours. His lips press your hand, giving it a chaste kiss. “You’re the only thing I’ll fight to keep for myself.”

Part of you wishes the relationship was normal. Leon truly did care for you, and you still cared for him, But he did something unforgiving. He took away your free will.

“...you can’t just steal a person, Leon. You can’t expect me to love you.”

“I don’t.”

“So why won’t you let me go? You still have Ada, don’t you? You were more into her than me. Why isn’t she in my position?”

“Because I love you, not her. You haven't betrayed me. Well, not until now.” he jokes, letting out a faint chuckle.

Leon pulls out his wallet, his fingers sliding through the pockets to find his card. “Wrap your food up. We’re leaving.” he puts his wallet back in his back pocket, “Be right back. Stay here.” he commanded sternly.

The waitress is at the bar, cleaning the counter with a blue rag. Leon approaches her with an “Excuse me.”

Leon put too much faith in you because you were on your feet immediately when his back was turned. You quietly inched towards the door and ever so slowly dragged the door inwards. Leon was distracted, the waitress deciding she’d flirt with him despite seeing you and him together. You manage to slip through the door before Leon notices your second escape attempt.

You bolt out the door when you hear the enraged roar of your name from behind. You grip the railing to the stairs, running down them, tripping a couple of times. You don’t look but you know Leon’s on your tail. The door slams against the wall, the bell ringing loudly.

“Y/n, get back here!”

Amanda’s car was still parked by the gas pump. You sprint towards it, slipping through the tight space of the car and the gas pump. Luckily for you, Amanda was in the car, applying her strawberry-pink lipstick.

“Amanda!” you shout, startling her enough that she drags the lipstick across her cheek. She shouts, frightened by your sudden appearance. She looks at you, like you're crazy. She says your name to clarify the person at her window, “What are you doing.”

You shake your head, “yo-you gotta help me, he-” you say breathlessly.

“Hey, Amanda.” you hear Leon’s voice call out. Unlike you, he isn’t out of breath. Thanks to his military training. Amanda peeks her head out the window, she smiles waving at Leon. “Hey, Lee!”

Your eyes widen till it’s physically impossible to widen anymore. She knows Leon. Your body feels numb as you watch them interact like old friends. You feel like you aren’t real at the moment. Like you're watching the scene unfold outside your body.

“Sorry, she just came back from the hospital. She isn’t in her right mind right now.” Leon excuses, leading you to his car like a shepherd's dog guiding the sheep to its pen.

Amanda nods as she understands completely. “No worries, I’m just glad I found her before she hurt herself.”

Leon puts you in the passenger seat and closes the vehicle door. The keys lock the door from the inside, so you are left choiceless.

Leon joins you in the driver’s seat, definitely too angered to chide you. He seethed quietly, powering on the engine with the quick twist of the car keys.

Wordlessly, you buckle up. You wouldn’t make an endeavor to anger Leon any further.

You’d allow him to be selfish. Allow him to have you.

What other option did you have now?

[pumpkinheadspacestation]

Back with another age guide post! Feel free to check out my other posts! I'll be making age guides all the way up to 13!

Intro to the age guide posts

One year age guide

Two years

Three years

I'd also like to just add in here, the goal of these posts is to help regressors find their regressed age(s) and to help caregivers help their baby when they are regressed to that age. I'd also like to add in that even if you regress to a certain age, you may not identify with every trait, like or dislike that this post has listed because regression is very individualized and each and every baby is different.

Now on to the post!

Agere Age Guide

4 years edition

Traits and Behaviors

☠︎︎ These cuties are learning how to count up to ten and learning how to tell stories and also recall certain parts of stories, they can also how confidently recall and identify certain things they want, most of the time these babies can also string together a coherent sentence "I want to read Goldie locks and the three bears for bedtime"

☠︎︎ You've made it past the terrible twos and threatening threes! These tots should be better at sharing, taking turns and following the rules of simple games. These tykes also enjoy the company of friends a lot more than they have before the fours, they love to chat and okay with babies their age

☠︎︎ Toddlers this age are starting to develope their own personality, they start to have a sense of humor, they become increasingly independent and they love to brag and show off what they can do

☠︎︎ As far as baby babbles go, that should be in the past for these fours, they're starting to tell longer stories and their pronunciation of words should be 100% clear and not just to mama or dada

☠︎︎ Running, jumping and playing are all exciting things for these little ones! They love to jump around and play catch and they're better at it than ever before. Be prepared to chase these babies around the house because they are filled with energy and they have some to spare

☠︎︎ Along with these new and exciting developments, you have to keep in mind that these tots are still toddlers and now that they have more complex personalities, you may start seeing more complex behavior. You're still going to see tantrums and defiance, these babies are still learning how to cope and feel their feelings.

☠︎︎ These tots are fully potty trained and have been for a little while! They no longer need help on the potty and can do it all on their own. Along with this, they can pick out their own outfits, and dress themselves

Activities!

These teeny tykes can play lots of different games but now is the time to spark imaginative and creative play! They love lots of imagination and creative activities, follow the lost bellow to find an activity you or your baby will love

☠︎︎Dress up! Dress up is a great way to let your tot express themself, they get to try crazy new styles and costumes they don't get to try that often, this is a great way for your tot to get creative, missing and matching makeup looks and clothing to make costume is an activity packed with fun

☠︎︎Dance and Sing! Write and perform songs on your pretend stage with your tiny tot, let them sing and dance their heart out, pretend to be a famous singer who's touring the world or get a little crazier and pretend to be an astronaut performing for aliens! Either way, this'll be a fun activity for any rocker baby out there

☠︎︎Craft time! Preschool crafts are easy to look up and find, drive your baby to the nearest craft store and pick out some supplies, fancy paper, tiny pompoms, popsicle sticks, markers, and crayons, then, have a blast with it! See what silly crafts you and your baby can make, you'll have to put the amazing craft they did up on the fridge to show how talented they are!

☠︎︎Imaginative play is peek fun for tots in there fours so toys like barbies, calico critters, action figures, ponies, doll houses, shopkins, lol dolls, baby dolls and much more are all super fun toys for a growing imagination, they can out their toys in a bunch of different scenarios and play it out. It's their own little world and it'll be tons of fun for them to let their imagination run wild!

☠︎︎As stated earlier, these tots can play just about any game and it's time to experiment! These babies are forming their own preferences and individuality so getting them to try and have positive experiences with lots of different activities and games is super important, take them swimming, play catch, play rock star, and barbies, and dinosaurs and sharks, play trains and have crafting time, out together puzzles and cook together! Anything you can imagine, they have space for in their heart

Food!

☠︎︎The palate of a four year old is simple and you don't want to overwhelm them with too strong or too many flavors. A simple grilled cheese or ham sandwich will do and they'll eat it happily. It's hard to make three meals a day for tots and so you don't want to make a four course meal and you don't have too. These babies are happy with oatmeal and cereal, they like gold fish and pop tarts as snacks, give them some carrots and ranch and they'll be a happy baby.

Dinner time foods may get a bit more complicated but dishes like meatloaf and pasta are great choices for babies in their fours. Cook up some cheesey spaghetti and these babies will be happy

As far as sitting down three times a day to eat a full meal, that might be the hard part, so instead of forcing a small to sit three times a day for an hour or more, try offering small snacks throughout the day and serving smaller meal portions, this makes everyone happy because your baby doesn't have to sit down as long, mama/dada doesn't have to cook big meals and you're both fed

Shows and Movies!

Shows and movies that interest these tots are very individualized so you may want to ask your baby what their favorite shows and movies are but even with that being said, I'll still list some shows they may enjoy.

These tots fall into the same category as the twos and threes, they still enjoy bubbly, easy to follow cartoony characters, they also enjoy somewhat educational shows and movies at this age, their brain is super curious and wanting to soak up information like a sponge so try putting one of these shows on for your tiny tyke:

☠︎︎Octonauts

☠︎︎Doc mcstuffins

☠︎︎Story bots

☠︎︎Sid the science kid

☠︎︎Bluey

☠︎︎Word World

☠︎︎Daniel Tiger

☠︎︎Blippi

☠︎︎Bubble Guppies

☠︎︎Curious George

These aren't all the shows you could put on for you tiny tot, just a short list and a quick goggle search or scroll through your favorite streaming app, you can find a bunch of tiny shows for your tiny to watch!

Boundaries and Safeties

Now that all the fun stuff has been said, it's time to talk about the most important thing, knowing your babies boundaries before they fall into a headspace around you. Your main goal is to keep them happy and healthy and Safe so talk to them about what they like and what they don't Prior to them getting into baby space around you. Care giving is exciting but only when we're helping Not when we're harming.

Be open to listening if your baby has an issue or a need that's not being listened to or met. Your regressor is not attacking you when they talk about their needs, they're feeling hurt or neglected, they tell you about it because they Want to make your relationship work not because they're trying to hurt you.

That concludes this post! I hope this was helpful to any caregivers out there or heck even any age regressors trying to find where they fall on the age spectrum. Thank you for supporting my blog and reading my post!

[anzadosara]

I remember when I finished bsd season 3, I went to a site and scrolled through the chapters that weren't animated yet; there I saw Nikolai and read his dialogs.

I think it was three or four years ago, I was familiar with his impressions; like 'the insane serial killer clown' and all; but when I read what he said it really came to me as a surprise how much I understood him.

and that claim still stands; I really identify with him the most. I'm sure he's a very hard character to understand to many of the people that follow the series; like 'who would want to kill the person they think of as their best friend?!', but I get him, despite how ill that may sound.

Nikolai's more sane than any of us, although we might think of him as the most insane. He is forged with feelings, he is forged with a body. Nikolai doesn't think, he feels. He feels his chest ache, he feels his head spin, and thinks to himself 'then if I'm free of my body, I won't feel anything'.

He knows that's not true, he knows better than anyone else; but chooses not to believe in it.

Nikolai knows what he is, and he knows he was given no opportunity to choose it, and this pains him; so he denies it.

He runs away from himself, runs away from his feelings; and oh he tries. He tries to tell people this, he tries to make them understand, to ask for help. He walks around talking in excited gibberish philosophy, and in the end, they call him insane and leave.

When they don't understand, when no one understands; he starts killing. He kills to prove to them what he said is true, to show them what they're not willing to use their minds to understand.

He was stuck in this vortex, until Fyodor showed up and made his pain double, no, multiplied.

Fyodor tells him exactly what he wanted to hear so desperately.

"You stand up against god in order to lose sight of yourself."

There, a new feeling bloomed; something he had never felt. We call it love, we call it obsession. Nikolai was terrified, so he made himself a solution: omit the cause, make the pain stop.

again, he knew killing Fyodor wasn't the way out; but chose to believe it was. He was terrified, and I'm sure any interaction he ever had with Fyodor pained him. I say this because I've been there myself, exactly where he was.

now something unexpected has happened, Fyodor's dead.

I doubt Nikolai really ever saw it in himself to kill Fyodor with his own hands, he couldn't, he loved him. He probably just planned on playing around carelessly just like he did, until someday fate itself, god himself, decides for him; and so he did, Fyodor's gone.

Or maybe there was a tiny glimpse of hope, in the bottom of his heart, that god would give him a chance in the end to be with Fyodor. He knew Fyodor didn't care about him, he knew it was all one sided, but he hoped anyway; maybe that was what kept him from performing his plan.

Now it's over, he is left with a void that cleaves his flesh and bone open. I wonder if he'll resist it, I wonder if he can last.

I wonder if he'll suicide :)

[iwriteasfotini]

Our Love is Written in the Stars

......EVERYONE HAS A STORY......

*I am preparing for lots of links, so bear with the slow process of building this post to be more interactive. And I am still figuring out tumblr formatting.*

The Heir and The Spare - Year One, Sirius POV (25 Chapters, ~109k words) Rating: Mature Posting to Begin 10/31/24

THATS Quick Stats - Coming 10/28 THATS Synopsis - Coming 10/29 THATS Chapter headings - Coming 10/30 THATS Evergreen Content - Coming sometime after 11/23 THATS Playlist - Coming 11/23

The Prince's Pact - Year Two, Severus POV (25 Chapters, ~122K words) Rating: Mature Posting to Begin 12/21/24

The Bonds of Friendship - Year Three, James POV (28 Chapters, ~139k words) Rating: Mature Posting to Begin 2/14/25

The Heart of the Lion - Year Four/Three, Regulus POV (35 chapters, ~171K words) Rating: Mature Posting to Being 4/13/25

What is this series?

**Special Note: I am a parent, I was a teacher, and I want to make sure my content is consumed by audiences of AN APPROPROATE AGE. If you are underage, please do not engage in the stories with Explicit ratings. I am working very hard to offer two versions of certain chapters to make sure this story is as accessible as possible.**

A canonesque Marauders era year by year series spanning 1971-1981 (maybe beyond).

A return to Hogwarts in the 1970's with modern attitudes about sexuality and gender because this is way more fun. Also I'm not getting into muggle racism or politics at all. The magical world has enough problems to tackle.

An exploration of morality and celebration of love.

A culturally expansive look at magical practices around the globe.

A creative delve into the six types of magic (inspired by POS wiki page and Evitative).

A testament to difficult choices in difficult circumstances.

A soul bond concept but not an AU.

A single POV for each installment. I refrain from chapter to chapter shifts.

Culturally diverse cast, plus all six main characters are at least bilingual.

Main Ships

Jegulus (platonic Jily and no Jeguily, if this proclamation stresses you out like it would me read this post.)

Wolfstar

Snily (turbulent, open relationship)

Side Ships

Rosekiller, Dorlene, Dumbledore/Grindelwald, Frank/Alice, Minerva/Poppy

I'm not sharing all the side ships due to spoilers.

Music

This series has two main theme songs, then each book has one/two theme songs. Plus sometimes I have a song attached to a chapter, which means each installment has its own playlist.

>>>Master Playlist<<< (Theme songs only - very short playlist)

>>>Epic Playlist<<< (Every single song in order, really really epic)

I will be sharing all of my playlists from Spotify, but due to spoilers, it won't be until each installment is fully published. Feel free to build your own playlists and please share them with me if you do!

Other things to know:

This story contains a large cast of queer characters who may or may not label themselves. There are also characters who identify as trans and nonbinary. Fair notice, my Regulus is not trans, though I know this is a common HC these days. But maybe with a little imagination you could still HC him as trans? And I'll say it until I'm blue in the face, I know this isn't realistic of the time period. Who cares!

Rating will span Mature to soft Explicit throughout the series with alternate chapters offered for a little more descriptive smut.

Posting will happen daily beginning on the scheduled day and continue at one chapter per day until each installment is complete. Then a few weeks of break between installments, for my sanity and to let people catch up.

Warning: People who have sensitivity to the following themes should approach this work with caution. It gets DARK. I will use trigger warnings by chapter and much of this does not begin until year five or later.

Underage drinking; underage recreational drug use; profanity; domestic abuse; blood; animal harm/death; self harm including attempting suicide; death; violence; grief; psychological abuse; torture; nonconsensual sex/sexual abuse; minor homophobia; sexual content; sexual themes

A final note:

If this sounds like an enticing series to you, please follow me or the tag (#Our Love is Written in the Stars) so you get updates when I start posting. I'm also going to share certain previews on Tumblr. This is a major passion project. I am writing for me 100% but I think some of you might also enjoy it, so I'm going to share.

Thanks for taking the time to read this introduction post. I hope to see you in the comments on AO3. Cheers!

**I do not agree with the original author's personal beliefs.**

**You can't find me on AO3 yet because this series is my first work of fanfiction. But my author name will be fotini.**

[covid-safer-hotties]

What It's Like Being COVID-Conscious in 2024 - Published Aug 26, 2024

Aug. 26, 2024 – On a warm July evening, Raleigh Rivera, 29, went to see a band play a backyard show in East Los Angeles. The audience – around 40 people – wore KN95 or N95 masks, tested for COVID beforehand, and agreed that they would excuse themselves from the rest of the crowd if they needed to take off their masks for any reason. Before they played, the band showed their negative test results to the attendees and asked their permission to perform without masks. They were lit with far-UV lighting, which has been shown to safely kill airborne viruses.

This might sound like a scene from three or four summers ago, when taking COVID precautions was encouraged by most health officials, policymakers, and community members – but it happened this summer. For Rivera and the rest of the crowd – who identify as COVID-conscious – life hasn’t gone “back to normal,” as it has for so many others.

Rivera and other COVID-vigilant people have cause for alarm: At the beginning of August, the percentage of people testing positive for COVID reached its highest level since January 2022, according to CDC data. The public health agency’s wastewater testing tracker shows “high” or “very high” virus levels in most U.S. states.

Many studies have shown that properly masking gives you an extra layer of protection against COVID. But Rivera, like others in the COVID-conscious community, is usually the only person wearing a mask in any given setting.

“Continuing to think and live this way kind of feels like you’re living in an alternate reality all the time,” she said. She has POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), a chronic blood disorder that can cause your heart rate to jump if you stand up. Along with masking wherever she goes, Rivera and her husband have air purifiers throughout their home and use a saline nasal rinse and an antimicrobial mouthwash before heading outside.

Despite her vigilance, Rivera caught COVID in the fall of 2023. She got on Paxlovid right away, yet she was hit with crushing fatigue that incapacitated her for a few weeks, she said. After she recovered, her POTS symptoms – which can include fatigue, lightheadedness, and nausea – worsened. She is just starting to get her appetite back, almost a year later.

“Everything is still a risk calculation, wherever I go. But at this show, I felt like my body could finally relax,” she said. “I felt very present and a part of something in a way that I haven’t been able to experience in a long time.”

Local governments in places like New York City and Los Angeles have considered imposing mask bans – mostly in response to protesters wearing masks at rallies to conceal their identities – regardless of the summer increase in COVID case numbers.

“It takes a lot of confidence,” said Rivera. “It gives up a piece of my social currency. I know there are places I’m no longer invited to because [wearing a mask] either weirds people out or bums them out that I’m going to keep this reminder of the pandemic on my face.”

For Rivera and others, much of the onus of community protection seems to fall on those with weakened immune systems. One of their biggest concerns is the lack of masking in medical settings. While some health systems have brought back masking policies since numbers have started to climb again, many have not done the same.

Aaron Friedberg, MD, a professor and internal medicine doctor with a specialty in long COVID at Ohio State University’s Wexner Medical Center in Columbus, wears a mask in every clinical setting, even though the hospital no longer requires it.

“There are still some people who get very sick from COVID, even though it’s much less common now,” he said. “To me, wearing a mask is a relatively easy thing I can do to improve their health. It’s an important way of showing respect for your patients, to protect them.”

Bernard Camins, MD, an infectious disease specialist at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City, also understands this worry. The hospital still sees plenty of patients with COVID, he said, but the vaccinated and boosted hospital staff does not tend to see transmission of the virus because they continue to wear the right personal protective equipment.

Olivia Belknap, an associate marriage and family therapist in the Los Angeles area, is COVID-conscious and sees many clients with similar concerns. She said there is a lot to what it means to be COVID-conscious.

Nowadays, many might consider taking COVID precautions to be extreme, but Belknap herself (who was also diagnosed with POTS after a COVID infection) and some of her clients are not yet comfortable getting on an airplane or eating outside on a restaurant patio. She sees clients who aren’t willing to step indoors almost anywhere that isn’t their own home.

“A majority of [my clients] have sought me out because they know that regardless of what levels of precautions they’re taking, I’m not going to pathologize them for it or discourage them from doing those things,” said Belknap. “It’s more about finding meaning and connection in your life while still doing things in a way that is safe for you and makes you feel comfortable.”

Belknap said it’s not her place to tell people they’re being too prudent or too lax in their precautions. Sometimes, she works with clients who are anxious about taking the first steps in loosening their own restrictions; other times, she’s talking to people struggling to come to terms with what it means to have a substantially smaller social circle for what could be the rest of their lives.

Although it seems like the rest of the world has moved on, the worry is valid for those whose lives may be upended by a post-viral reaction from a COVID infection, Camins said.

“It may not be death, but it’s still debilitating. You’re alive, but it’s not a fun way to live life,”

While protecting yourself against what could be life-altering long COVID symptoms is more than justified, Camins said there is a potential downside for those with weakened immune systems: They might get sicker from other viruses than they would have before.

“The only thing I worry about for this community is that, since they’re very careful about COVID, they’re probably not getting exposed to other viruses that their bodies can build immunity against,” he said. “At some point, if you let down your guard, you’re going to get sick a lot.”

There are times when Rivera wants to give up on masking altogether, like when she attends a wedding. She still goes to many of them, and she puts in the time to do her makeup, despite knowing most people won’t see her face for most the night. She’d like to be able to take her mask off indoors, eat inside without worrying, or have a drink with friends.

There could be a future for Rivera that doesn’t include the same level of precautions she’s currently taking – but that comes with conditions.

“There are some places that I know I will continue to wear a mask forever, like in medical settings or traveling,” she said. “But I also know that there will be no more weddings for me if I am permanently and significantly more disabled than I already am, and that’s very possible with another infection.”

[dominickeating-source]

‘Star Trek: Enterprise’ Actors Say Season 5 Would Have “Crushed It,” Defend “Naff” Theme Song

In addition to all the new Star Trek Universe show panels from Mission Chicago we have covered, there was a fun panel for Star Trek: Enterprise, which celebrated its 20th-anniversary last year. On hand were show stars Connor Trinneer (Charles “Trip” Tucker), Dominic Keating (Malcolm Reed), and Anthony Montgomery (Travis Mayweather). The trio shared stories of their time on the NX-01 Enterprise, including some frank discussion about the series which ended in cancellation after four seasons. TrekMovie was there to report on the highlights.

7 years and movie?… that ship has sailed

When the moderator asked the group what it was like walking in for the first episode, the actors talked about how they were given high hopes for their future:

Connor Trinneer: We weren’t walking into a pilot, we were walking into a series. We had that luxury. So that was a little intimidating. We knew we were in it together. And we knew we were going to be together for well… Anthony Montgomery: It was supposed to be seven years. We signed for seven years. They told us we were doing movies, because they didn’t do movies with DS9. They didn’t do movies with Voyager. So they told me that the fans love Star Trek and you guys are going be here for at least seven years, and you’re going to be doing movies and everything. And you guys know how that all turns out.

Regarding if they thought the show were more anticipating the show being big or worried it would fail, again they talked about the initial excitement, which soon turned to concern:

Anthony Montgomery: Really big, initially. Connor Trinneer: But then, we wondered for a long time if we were going to be coming back to work. Anthony Montgomery: That started in season one.

As for what was planned for the show beyond a fourth season, speaking for the group, Montgomery made it clear they were on a roll once they got to season four and it would only have got better:

Anthony Montgomery: They’d never told me where we were going, but I can tell you it would have been fucking great. What? Come on! Did y’all see season four? We have really stepped into our own by season four. So if we’d gone five, six and seven, man, I don’t know what it would have been, but we would have crushed it!  I love that guy [points to fan] saying “you guys could still do it.” No, no, that that spaceship has sailed.

Dominic Keating, Connor Trinneer, and Anthony Montgomery entertained the crowd at Mission Chicago (Photo: TrekMovie.com)

About that theme song…

One of the more controversial elements of Enterprise was the theme song: Russell Watson’s “Where My Heart Will Take Me.” As a group they defended the theme and talked about how producers were very optimistic about it, although Keating noted he wasn’t a fan of the new version of the song used for the final two seasons:

Connor Trinneer: They were very psyched about it. They were really excited about it. Dominic Keating: I got to say when they suddenly introduced a tambourine and the upbeat version of that song for season three, I got to say, that is some goofy shit. I am watching the show now and I am on season three and I can’t even listen to it. It is naff, really naff. The original song? I didn’t mind at all. I thought it was rather beautiful. Anthony Montgomery: I thought it was fantastic. And it fits our series. It does. For what our show is and what it represents in the franchise, I thought it was a perfect song. Connor Trinneer: I think I heard it for the first time and went, “That’s a song, that right there is a song.” Dominic Keating: I thought it was rather fitting with the graphics and absolutely the human endeavor and flight and I thought it was pretty cool.

Representing Florida and Britain

The actors also talked a bit about how they developed the cultural identities of their characters. Connor Trinner described how he was taken by surprise when the writers identified Trip coming from Florida about halfway through the series:

Connor Trinneer: I’ve had done a play in New York for about a year playing this guy from Oklahoma and all this said was [Trip is] a good old southern boy. I know Oklahoma is a tip of the South or south Midwest. Anyway, I went in with that accent and worked on that and knew it really well … and then they wrote that I was from Florida and I went to the producers and said I’m not doing Florida and they’re like, “They’ll never know.” And I was like, “People in Florida will know!” And sure enough there was a family that came on the Make A Wish Foundation to our set and they were from the town Trip is supposed to be from and they were just like, “I just want to thank you so much for nailing our accent.”

And Leicester-born Keating talked about how he was proud to represent Britain, and he was given some leeway in portraying a British character:

Dominic Keating: It was it was an honor. And if anything, I got slightly a wider berth how they were particular about what they’ve written. Connor, if you wanted to change anything, you have to bring up the writers’ room, didn’t you? It had to go through a whole order of command to change an “and” to an “or” or a “but.” I could just go, “A British guy wouldn’t say that.”

Dominic Keating, Connor Trinneer, and Anthony Montgomery entertained the crowd at Mission Chicago (Photo: TrekMovie.com)

Source: TrekMovie.com - April 26, 2022, article by ANTHONY PASCALE

[ferminadaz]

HANNIBAL

I find it funny that I haven't gotten down to watch the series earlier. The picture I used for the post, the most horrifyingly magnificent image from the series, is something that's been hanging on my wall for years, whilst I had no idea it was from the series, so you can imagine my pleasant surprise, when I saw it on the screen.

But to the series.

Of course I had to go down the rabbit hole of hannibal fandom on tumblr and though it doesn't surprise me that people are still rooting for season 4, I myself cannot identify with the sentiment.

Why? Because for once I'm not yearning for more. The story, for once, and for once in the longest while, feels complete. The story said everything it had to say, not less, not more, just enough. Usually, when I finish something that has such hold on my heart, I tend to go through everything concerning it, from youtube, tumblr to pinterest and fanfictions. I need to re-immerse myself in that particular story universe, exhaust it and enjoy it more. But for some reason, in case of Hannibal, I had no such inclination, even despite loving every second of the story.

I was trying to discern the reasons for that, since it's so unusual in my case. I think it's because it feels so intimate, as if I shouldn't interfere, only feel happy I was able to observe and enjoy it from afar. Maybe, the closer Hannibal and Will got, the bigger the distance between them and the viewer got. Gosh, I'll never cease to admire the intimacy the writers managed to create between the characters, it's such a rare sight really.

But back to the premise of this post - why there never should be a fourth season? The series have its charm precisely because it ended the way it did. If there was season four, things would have to be said explicitely, would have to be elaborated on, which would straight up collide with the whole motive of the series - the motive of unsaid and untangible.

We never get to feel Will's emotions, the minds of the killers, Hannibal's apetite, none of it. Nothing is said directly, only in a roundabout, concealed fashion of metaphors and similes. The magic would be completely lost if anything ever crossed the threshold of explicit.

And the creators made it abundantly clear in the final episode. It all came together: the "see?", the beauty, both of them, their relationship to themselves and also one another. It was the ultimate ending, phenomenally tied together. We know they survived and we shouldn't know more than that. Those three series have been a foreplay of intimacy between those two, can you imagine how intimate the fourth one would have to be? It would straight up feel like imposing, like breaking into someone's home to watch them change their dirty underwear.

The story, the chracters we knew, the era they went through, ended there and everything beyond is a story for another time, story unseen by anyone, their very own story.

I pray there will never ever be season four, let the sleeping beasts lie.

[mariacallous]

Five months ago, software engineer Shikhar Sachdev adopted a peculiar hobby. While his friends met for drinks or played FIFA 23 to unwind after work, he would come home, boot up his laptop, and spend hours filling out job applications, for sport.

Sachdev is content with his job at a San Francisco fintech company, but he writes a career blog in his spare time and had noticed a recurring sentiment: Job hunting these days is the worst. Friends described returning home from an exhausting day of work they hated, applying for new positions, and quickly growing discouraged by clunky application software and a low response rate. Research suggests the frustration is widespread: 92 percent of candidates abandon online job applications before completing them, according to the recruitment platform Appcast.

“You might hate your boss. But if you think that searching for jobs is worse, you're never going to change,” Sachdev says. “I wanted to try to put some data behind the claim that job hunting sucks.”

Sachdev set himself the challenge of applying to 500 software engineering jobs to observe exactly what made the endeavor more or less frustrating. Halfway through, however, he hit a snag. “I wanted to chop my head off,” Sachdev says. He scaled back his target to a still brain-melting 250 jobs across a range of industries and company sizes, chosen largely at random—companies he’d seen on billboards, for instance, or friends’ employers.

Sachdev timed each application from start to finish and for consistency always applied directly through a company’s career page—he ended up spending about 11 hours total filling applications. Since he wasn’t looking for a new position, he always stopped short of clicking “Submit” on a completed application, except for a few choice roles that piqued his interest. (He landed three interviews, but didn’t pursue the jobs.) He aimed to make each application serviceable, but wasn't as thorough as a truly ambitious or desperate job seeker would be, so he figures the times he logged are underestimates.

Sachdev found it took an average of 2 minutes and 42 seconds to fill out a job application—but that doesn’t include time spent identifying suitable roles, and the time could vary widely from job to job. The longest took more than 10 minutes, the shortest less than 20 seconds. Much of this variation sprang from the particularities of applicant tracking software.

Applying to work at a company that used Workday, for instance, took 128 percent longer than average for similarly sized companies in the same industry. Workday spokesperson Nina Oestlien called customer service a “core value” at the company and says that application timing is determined by how customers configure their applications. (Disclosure: WIRED owner Condé Nast uses Workday. Also, we’re hiring!)

Starting Over

Sachdev’s job hunting obsession was born partly from rejection. Originally from Geneva, Switzerland, he graduated from UC Berkeley in 2019 with a degree in environmental economics and philosophy. Most of his friends lived in the Bay Area, and career opportunities in the region abounded, so he resolved to stay.

As Sachdev’s senior year wound down, he began furiously applying for local jobs. But his heart sank each time he reached the portion of an application that asked if he needed visa sponsorship. Since he lacked US citizenship, he needed an employer to sponsor him, likely with a specialty H-1B worker visa. “When I would click the H-1B box, my application would go straight into the garbage,” he says. “I was getting rejections four minutes after I applied.”

But Sachdev has the tenacity to power through the uttermost tedium for months on end. And he discovered what looked like a loophole. Foreigners who earn STEM degrees from certain US institutions can work in the country for up to three years without a visa under a federal program called Optional Practical Training. “Who stays at their first job for more than three years?” he rationalized. So when the visa sponsorship question popped up in an application for a product manager role at a major tech company he wanted to work for, he clicked “no.”

After he landed an interview, Sachdev spent 40 hours scouring job sites for tips, cramming his notebook full of hypothetical questions and their responses, compiling a presentation the company required—and totally neglecting his coursework. Half a dozen interviews later, he got the job. His heart soared, but not for long. When he explained his immigration status to the recruiter, she rescinded the offer. Sachdev started over, eventually landing a job with a startup willing to sponsor his H-1B visa, and decided to parlay his experience into a career blog offering help to other hapless job questers.

Job hunters have long complained about the process, but it developed fresh annoyances after moving online starting in the mid-’90s, says Chris Russell, managing director of the recruitment consultancy RecTech Media. Online job boards like Monster and CareerBuilder flooded companies with candidates, giving rise to applicant tracking systems built to help recruiters manage the deluge.

These systems promised to save recruiters time by automatically ranking and filtering applicants based on keywords. From the perspective of applicants required to laboriously enter their information into the software, they felt like a new barrier. “These systems were built with the companies in mind,” says Russell. “They never really considered the user experience from the job seeker’s point of view.” A cottage industry sprang up of tools and résumé whisperers promising to help job seekers get past the automated scanners.

In recent years, new features like psychological assessments and “digital interviews,” in which applicants answer prepared questions into their webcams, only placed more barriers between candidates and human decisionmakers. Meanwhile, the fundamentals of hiring remain stuck in the past, says Scott Dobroski, a career trends expert at jobs platform Indeed. It takes three and a half months for most Indeed users to find a job, he says. “All the other parts of our lives have sped up. The hiring process has not caught up.”

Time Wasters

While job hunters have much to gripe about, from “ghost jobs” to the dreaded “résumé black hole,” Sachdev decided to focus his efforts on the initial application process. He identified three main factors that affected the time it took to apply: the size of a company, the industry it was part of, and the applicant tracking software it used.

Applicant tracking software was a major source of Sachdev’s frustration. The most common systems he encountered were Workday, Taleo, Greenhouse, Lever, and Phenom, which adds AI-powered features on top of systems like Workday. More established systems such as Workday and Taleo redirected him away from the careers page and made him create a separate account for each application, adding significant time and vexation. By the end of his 250 applications, he had 83 separate accounts.

Newer offerings such as Greenhouse and Lever spared him some of these frustrations. Applications through Lever, for instance, took 42 percent less time to complete than the average for similarly sized companies in the same industry.

Sachdev also spent many excruciating minutes retyping information he’d already uploaded on his résumé because software would misread it. Workday, for instance, would routinely populate the education field with “Munich Business School” even though Sachdev’s résumé clearly says he graduated from non-soundalike UC Berkeley. “Sometimes it's not even the time,” he says. “It's the mental fatigue of having to do it every single time.”

The longest application to fill out was for the US Postal Service, clocking in at 10 minutes and 12 seconds, while the shortest was that of hedge fund Renaissance Technologies, which requested only his name and résumé and consumed a mere 17 seconds. In general, Sachdev found that government applications took the longest—a trend that Indeed’s data backs up—followed by aerospace and consulting jobs. Younger industries such as online banks, AI firms, and crypto companies were amongst the least time-consuming. Legacy banks, for instance, took about four times longer to apply to than their newer online counterparts.

Sachdev also found applications to large companies more time-consuming than for smaller firms. In general, a doubling of company size added 5 percent to the average application time.

While the process was largely an exercise in repetition, Sachdev encountered a few creative takes on a musty old format. Plaid, a fintech company that provides APIs to connect software with bank accounts, invited applicants to apply via API. (Sachdev opted for the old-fashioned route, for consistency.) The gaming company Roblox let candidates apply in-game.

While hiring software has historically been stacked in employers’ favor, more job seekers are using their own forms of automation. Bots and tools like LazyApply use text-generation technology like that behind ChatGPT to automatically mass apply to jobs, to the likely chagrin of overwhelmed recruiters. When Sachdev posted his results on discussion site Hacker News, one commenter claimed to use bots to fill out job applications and ChatGPT to write cover letters and correspond with recruiters, fully taking over only at the interview stage. “Can you blame him?” Sachdev says. “Because the companies are doing it too. Their résumé parsers, their application tracking software, and their tools are also using AI. So it's almost as if the applicant now has this weapon they can use against the companies.”

An AI arms race that floods the job market with unserious applicants and insurmountable filtering tools is in nobody’s interest, however. Indeed’s Dobroski says some platforms, including his own, have begun rolling out a new approach that aims to save time on both sides, albeit also by leaning on algorithms. Instead of sending hundreds of résumés into the void and hoping for the best—“spray and pray” he calls it—candidates can list their skills, qualifications, and preferences and let AI suggest suitable jobs to apply for. “The matching really speeds up the hiring process, and it connects the candidate with employers that they otherwise may not even have considered,” he says.

Sachdev has his own ideas for what would make job applications more productive for both seekers and recruiters. First off, he advises applicants to save time and mental anguish by prioritizing employers that use simpler software like Lever and Greenhouse. For jobs he’s really serious about, he’ll try to make a human connection with the hiring manager on LinkedIn.

There’s a saying Sachdev likes, from computer science professor Randy Pausch: The brick walls are there for a reason. Facing and surmounting hurdles can help a person discover how much they want something. But if an employer erects too many barriers, “is an applicant really going to think, ‘That brick wall is there for a reason?’ Or is the applicant going to exit out of your website and go apply somewhere else?” Sachdev says. “I think it's the latter.”

[colourfulgreyscales]

On biphobia among normies.

Instead of talking about celebs or characters or fandoms (since that's a common trend around here., although I see nothing wrong with that)... I will regale you with examples of normies in my life (as well as myself) to whom biphobia affects.

My two bi friends, a man and a woman, who are married. The wife's gender expression fluctuates within the femme side of the spectrum, whereas the husband's gender expression has a lot of feminine elements to it, from flamboyance to painting his nails. Their hetero appearance affords them less advantages because of this. Instead, they are confronted with accusations of the wife identifying as bisexual because she is either a "good friend who wants to beard," or a "tool" for her "gay" friend. No need to explain about the husband. They had been in an open relationship in the past, but as of right now, they are monogamous, which might or might not change in the future.

A lot of trans friends of mine of different genders who identify as bi. Both their gender and their sexuality is under a microscope, constantly.

There are at least four bisexual male friends in my life in the following situation. Two of them are very proud bisexuals to the point of activism. All three have mostly queer friends, but in many cases their circle of friends read as gay, with different ranges of gender expression. They spend a lot of time in the gay locations (bars, neighborhoods, vacation spots, you name it) Three of them are married to gay men. The fourth one has been polyamorous with two boyfriends last time I saw them. All four of them have shown clear attraction to women from flirtatious interactions, to the way they looked at them, that clearly look different from the way gay men do it. One of the married guys has a husband who might or might not be attracted to more than one gender as well (the evidence is inconclusive from my end).

The woman friend who after many years of dating and living with men, one of whom she became engaged to, ended up married to a woman. She did question her sexuality and realized she was bi, because i her experience, her feelings were legit. She decided to go unlabeled out of pressure from her circle, who had issues with the word "bisexual" and insnsted she should identify as a lesbian; and she was tired of explaining why she felt bisexual or fluid (her wife was her first obvious attraction to a woman she experienced) suited her better. Her wife (who I don't know how she identifies,) is fine with her as she is.

My most recent ex-girlfriend is a febfem woman. She has also felt the pressure of identifying as a lesbian, especially as she has been open about not being attracted to men or male presenting people of late.

And finally, there is me. After years of being single and dating female-presenting people when I was not, I followed my heart and I am currently seeing a man. I feel intimidated about the implications this might carry, on top of feeling terrible about the potential passing advantages that this relationship will grant me that I haven't had in a while (even if my gender expression fluctuates, but rarely goes high femme). I already lost some friendships after coming out, but I still deal with comments like "I thought you would be deep into women/pussy right now." I am only open to my close friends of all sexualities and my bisexual friends.

[themswritinwords]

WIP Intro: The finished stories

It's time! Or at least, the beginning of time! I can and will talk about each at length in their own posts, but let's start with the basics.

1: The Hundred Fifty Seven Deaths of the Immortal Ethan Ellis

Genre: Horror-comedy (I think? Identifying the genre for marketing purposes is my biggest obstacle with this one)

Status: Edits/rewrites and querying

Pitch/one-liner: After waking up during his own autopsy, reluctant and disillusioned immortal Ethan Ellis gets pressganged into a road trip with the autopsy tech who saved his life as they search for answers to why his newly mended body is now going haywire.

Blurb/query bit: Ethan Ellis has just woken up in the middle of his own autopsy, which is a first even for a guy who’s gotten himself killed over a hundred fifty times. Now his newly-reanimated body is going haywire, forcing him to relive those untimely ends; that would be another unfortunate first. Ethan and the very confused, slightly traumatized autopsy tech that saved his life want answers. If they can’t find any, this could be it for him—for real this time. But between the running tally of his past failures to make a difference in the world, a carsick cat that hates his guts, and the growing apathy he’s been fighting for decades, for the first time in his three-hundred-ten-year-long life, Ethan isn’t sure whether he cares. To make matters worse, Ethan finds himself catching feelings for the woman who saved his life. Then he starts seeing the ghost of the wizard-wannabe that cursed him with immortality in the first place. Then his fellow immortal turns up to help, but for some ungodly reason decides that ‘help’ means ‘kidnap the autopsy tech (and her horrid little cat) and press-gang Ethan into the only thing he hates more than his growing certainty that nobody in this world cares anymore: a road trip.’ A little like if The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue were written by Christopher Moore, Ethan Ellis is a horror novel for horror weenies (aka me, the author), and a comedy for depressed optimists (also me, the author), with just a little bit of romcom for flavor-- because really, what says "romance" if not being stuffed in the back of a '99 Chevy Malibu with a woman who has already held your literal heart in her hands and only dropped it once?

Standalone, with potential for a series if desired; probably going to serve as my debut novel. I already have several queries out on it, and I'm hopeful about my chances for a few of them.

2: The Rockbridge Experiment

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Status: Rewrites, with the goal of shortening (first draft was a shelf-busting 365k)

Pitch/one-liner: A struggling human detective, a dying elf, and a conflicted half-dwarf are brought together to solve a string of troubling kidnappings and murders, but stumble into a conspiracy of hidden magic and vicious human experimentation that runs far deeper-- and nearer-- than any of them could have guessed.

Blurb/query bit: (still working on this, so bear with me if it's disjointed) For Detective Evan Grant, life last week made sense. At least, as much sense as it can make when you're questioning your entire life and solo parenting your orphaned younger siblings. Then she got this assignment. Fae in the human district. What could go wrong? A lot, it turns out, and none of it in the way she expected. She probably has a crush on one of her new coworkers, the other definitely sees the future, and all four of her siblings manage to get themselves suspended. People are vanishing into thin air, a terrorist is back from the dead, magic isn't extinct after all, and she definitely doesn't want to be a cop anymore. Life is imploding around her, and she's got no choice but to hold it together. If she doesn't, someone's definitely gonna die. Maybe a lot of someones. Led by visions of the corpse of a man not yet dead, it's a race against time for Evan and her new partners--a terminally ill elf who also happens to be the last Arcanist in the world, and a half-human, half-dwarf who is frustratingly distracting for reasons Evan can't even begin to unpack. Unfortunately, that race plunges them headlong into a conspiracy that threatens to upend the delicate balance between humans and Fae, and if they can't get ahead of it, war may start all over again. It's a game of chance with a hopelessly stacked deck, and little do they know, they're about the play against the dealer. With an ensemble cast written in multiple POVs, The Rockbridge Experiment is part slow-burn mystery, part horror, and part Southern Gothic, all wrapped in an alternate-Earth urban fantasy setting. The Dresden Files meets Bright, minus the misogyny and copaganda apologetics.

Part of a series, which sucks for the already doorstopping wordcount, but I'm doing my darndest to get it publishable because I love the universe and characters I've created here, and really believe in the stories I'm telling with them. My strategy is to get something else published first, then query this one so agents aren't as put off by the word count.

Stay tuned for in-depth posts on each work, detailing the characters and some of my favorite bits of the story. Also stay tuned for a masterpost of WIPs.

[princess-of-the-corner]

On the inhabitants of Meridian, in the comic Elyon actually asks Vathek about it, and he tells about three groups:

The main group, at least in Meridian's region, are the Galhot, such as Vathek and Aldarn. Most of them have minor magic powers, enough to disguise themselves. They built the city of Meridian after the arrival of the Escanor tribe.

Another race known by name is the Kahedrinn, the ancient enemies of the Galhot. According to Vathek's tale they were so terrible Kandrakar intervened by allowing the Escanor tribe to cross the dimensional boundary. Only an arm is shown for the Kahedrinn... But it's enough to identify a grand total of four living in Meridian: lord Cedric, the royal gardener, and the wife and daughter of the gardener.

The third group are the Escanor, that is the humans of Meridian, named after their leader Escanor. Considering both him and one of his followers have names straight from the Matter of Britain, they're almost certainly Britons from the sub-Roman period... Explaining how they turned the tide, the Kahedrinn were suddenly facing a Comitatensis host and got smashed. According to Vathek, after the victory the Galhot made Escanor king, and Elyon is his direct descendant.

Aside for them, the comics give three other "groups":

The Whisperers, that is Phobos survellaince flowers. They're normally just plants with enough brain to spy on people and deliver his orders, but at least two (Caleb and Rascal) mutated and got full sapience and a humanoid body.

The Annihilators, that is Phobos' war Whisperers, with humanoid bodies and heat vision. They're supposedly created by Phobos' by infusing Whisperers with Cedric's essence, but the fifth arc shows them existing a hundred years before the series.

Whatever Phobos actually is. Because the comics imply he's actually a being just younger than Kandrakar that made such a mess that the First Oracle surrounded Metamoor with a mystical wall/veil just to contain him to a single world before sending in the first Guardians to kill him... Except the thing always came back, with Prince Phobos being just the latest incarnation. And the last one, given this team managed to catch him alive and later Will killed his soul.

Inch resting.

With there being so few of the Kahedrinn, it'd almost make sense to just combine the species and have it that Cedric's whole snake form is just some sort of spell thing he can do?

I'm definitely scrapping the Escanor thing because.... yeah the alien immigrants being granted the right to rule. Not just in terms of 'oh we'll crown you king!' but all descendants are still Human despite generations of interbreeding with the locals, and also Magical Birthright nonsense with the Heart of Meridian. Even if there was a Human who helped them that was crowned King, by the time of the present era, Elyon should not still read as Human.

The Whisperers/Annihilators are interesting, but don't seem to be proper Sapient species outside of a few exceptions. (Actually, I can further combine Caleb's backstories by having him be a Whisperer made by a very young Phobos, but given proper Sapience by Nerissa).

As for the fuckery with Phobos!

That actually makes some sense in the like. Plot holes I mentioned. It wasn't just that he was a very evil 8 year old when he tried to kill baby Elyon, that was just everyone going 'damn it this fucker's back again!!!'. Which, my Zelda-loving ass kinda likes. Though I think I'm going to still roll with the conspiracy nonsense the plot hole gave me. So Phobos is 'normal'

[churchofthpl]

an elaboration of sorts

(this one doesn't rhyme;

most of them don't, but

the one before the last one did

and that's the one that this one

is a sort of extension of)

i see them in everything,

and i could talk about it for hours.

my list of examples is endless.

some of them have cool stories;

some of them don't, but

they still have a place of utmost importance

in my heart.

here are ten of them.

one; she is that feeling i got when i listened to the safety dance by men without hats for the first time. i was twelve years old. i'd been a fan of the ramones for a while, i was getting into other bands in their scene, i knew punk rock, i knew what it was like to be heard by music. the safety dance was different; it was like my future self was being heard. a future self in which i was happier and i had more freedom than i did aged twelve and i felt free to love and be loved back.

two; he is the mural of a swan on the side of my dream college. when i went for an initial visit - the same visit that caused me to apply before even leaving the building - i arrived twenty minutes early to my show-around, so i was stood outside. in front of the main entrance is a huge painting of a swan. i remember sitting on one of the benches opposite it and just looking over every detail and admiring the effort that went into it. i am working my ass off to get my grades up so i can go to that college.

three; they are the first pair of earrings i ever got. i got my earlobes pierced at claire's when i was six years old. they were tiny studs with aqua-coloured gems on them. they lasted a little over a year before seven-year-old cecile took them out. they were really pretty. i still have them somewhere.

four; she is the rocky horror picture show poster on my wall. it's "camp", thank you very much, though my cat seems to be afraid of it.

five; he is the folder of drawings i did as a child. the last time i saw my dad, i was twelve years old, and the last gift he ever gave me was a folder of every piece of art i did as a child that he kept. my best friend at the time joked that i should burn them. i thought about it, very briefly - i kept them. i kept them until i moved out of the apartment. they got lost in the moving, as did a lot of things, because my apartment was cleared out entirely only a couple of weeks after my mom's passing, so there were a lot of things i wasn't in the headspace to remember to take. i never got around looked through the folder.

six; they are the storm that england got a couple of weeks ago. there were tornado warnings in towns only a couple of cities over from me, and though i didn't say anything because it felt silly, i was terrified. the winds were so loud i could hardly hear myself breathe, and the rain was flooding my garden. i stood in my porch and recorded it, deciding that joking about it would calm my nerves a little. (they were there when i sent these recordings to a group chat.)

seven; she is the pair of scissors that were used when i got my first masculine haircut. i was at a point where i didn't know if i was a transgender boy or a butch. it's funny to look back on, because between then and now, i have gone through 'phases' and experiments with my gender and presentation, i have identified as multiple things, and i am back here, now, yet again not sure if i am ftm or a butch.

eight; he is the first muji pen i ever bought. it was a lifechanger. i need to go out and buy some more soon - i wonder if ryman is open on a sunday? they're my favourite brand of pen to use. almost all of my poems that are in notebooks have been in muji pens. all of my handwritten essays have been in muji pens that had the labels ripped off by the invigilators (you know, just in case i printed the answers in japanese onto a pen label and stuck it on the pen).

nine; they are the copy of gloom that i stole from my old group counsellor's office back when i first got transferred to my current school. i only did it because i thought the box looked cool and i was a bit of a kleptomaniac. he never asked for it back. since then, i've taught myself to play, and gloom is my favourite card game of all time.

ten; she is - above all else, i suppose - the first thing i smile about every morning. no, seriously. that's not even me being sappy. i check my phone first thing every morning, and she's always the first notification i read.

[christoplack]

Percy Pringle (Paul Bearer) shares a story of how just days before Christmas in 1990, his car was repossessed, and he was on the verge of bankruptcy until a call to Rick Rude changed his fate: "It was four days before Christmas, in Dallas, Texas. World Class Championship Wrestling had closed down a couple of years before, and The USWA was ready to move back to Tennessee to make room for the new Global Wrestling Federation at The Sportatorium. I found myself without a job, and on the verge of bankruptcy. My car had been repossessed, and we didn’t have the money for a Christmas tree, much less presents to put under one. It became painfully hard to look into the eyes of my ten-year old and three-year old sons. I knew in my heart that my wrestling career was over, and it was time to make a drastic change. I called my friend “Ravishing” Rick Rude, who was working for The WWF at the time. I told Rick exactly what was going on in my life, and that I planned on moving back home to Alabama and go back to work in the funeral industry. He was very sympathetic, and asked me not to make any quick decisions. In fact, Rick told me that he would call me back before the end of the day. When we talked again a couple of hours later, he said “Vince wants you to call him at home.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Now, let me know what he has to say.” Rick concluded. I immediately fell back onto the sofa, dropping Vince McMahon’s telephone number to the floor. After about twenty minutes, I finally realized that it wasn’t a dream, and gathered the strength to dial Mr. McMahon’s private home number.“Where have you been all these years?” I remember Vince asking me, and after some small talk he told me that he would certainly like to meet with me after the holidays. The conversation still didn’t solve my Christmas problems, but I did have a sleepless night thinking that I may finally make it to “The Fed”. Early the next morning, my phone rang, and it was Mr. McMahon’s right hand man, Pat Patterson. Pat wanted to know if I could catch an early afternoon flight to New York, because Vince wanted to see me sooner than expected. Of course, my answer was positive, and he provided the flight information I needed. Things were happening so quickly, I could hardly digest them. Darkness was falling over the New York skyline as my American Airlines jet made it’s way into John F. Kennedy Airport. As I walked down the jet way, I spotted a well-dressed gentleman holding a card with my name written across it. I identified myself; he took my bag and told me to follow him to my limousine. “Limousine! Hell, I don’t even own a car.” I thought to myself. I actually felt like I was one of the Beverly Hillbillies as the limo driver took me through New York City and into Connecticut. Finally, we arrived at a majestic five-star hotel in Stamford, where I was whisked away to my penthouse suite. I wasn’t in the room five-minutes before my phone rang, and it was Pat Patterson. “Percy, Vince want to see you at 10 o’clock in the morning.” Pat told me, “I’ll pick you up at 9:45. In the meantime, you can eat, drink, and do anything you want to do. Just sign your name, it’s all courtesy of Titan Sports." To say that I was nervous is an understatement. I was scared to death, as I entered Vince McMahon’s office the next morning. Which, by the way, was my wedding anniversary, December 22, 1990. We talked about everything under the sun. It didn’t take long for Vince to make me feel right at home. As he looked over my resume, he began to laugh. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. “You have a degree in Mortuary Science?” Mr. McMahon questioned me, “This is just too much.” Little did I know that they were looking for a manger for The Undertaker, and Vince wasn’t aware that I had a background in Funeral Service, as well as being a wrestling manager. It was a match made in heaven, and when I left Titan Towers, I had a WWF contract in hand. We made it through the holidays; the WWF contract was a suitable anniversary gift for Dianna and myself. I went on the road in January 1991, as The WWF character known as Paul Bearer, managing The Undertaker."

[thepirateandhisson]

Once Upon A Mamma Mia Masterpost

Once upon a time, I half-jokingly made this post about an idea for a Captain Swan/Mamma Mia AU. And then I proceeded to write the first chapter hours later and it spiraled from there.

Anyway, this is a masterpost for links to each chapter of the fic, as I have finally completed it! This is my first ever completed multi-chapter story and I’m really proud of that fact. It was my first true venture into writing again after years away from it so I really enjoyed getting to work my creative muscles in this way after a lengthy absence.

If you’ve read this story, I hope you enjoyed it! If you haven’t, I hope you may give it a go one day! Once Upon A Mamma Mia

Chapter One: Honey, Honey (AO3)

It makes sense that, after finding Emma, Henry would start to have questions about his dad. If only they were easy to answer...

With Emma's silence on the matter, Henry takes things into his own hands and invites the three men from her past to his birthday party, determined to figure out which one is his father.

Chapter Two: Knowing Me, Knowing You - Part One (AO3)

A glimpse of three strangers in Storybrooke causes Emma to begin a trip down memory lane...

Chapter Three: Knowing Me, Knowing You - Part Two (AO3)

Nothing terrified Emma Swan more than the knowledge that if she took down the walls that so tightly guarded herself, she would willingly hand her heart over to Killian Jones.

Chapter Four: The Name of the Game (AO3)

With his potential fathers showing up in Storybrooke, Henry needs to figure out a way to identify which one is his real dad.

Chapter Five: Does Your Mother Know? (AO3)

Emma still isn't sure why her past has decided to visit her now, and all at the same time, but she's determined to get to the bottom of it. Meanwhile, Henry's determined to get to know his potential fathers.

Chapter Six: I Have A Dream (AO3)

Emma reunites with an old friend, Henry finally meets everyone in Operation Papa Bear, and chaos bubbles under the surface.

Chapter Seven: SOS (AO3)

Emma has to deal with the aftermath of Henry's stunt in Granny's, even if it means promising another meeting with the three ghosts of her past. But first, she needed to ground this kid.

Chapter Eight: Mamma Mia - Part One (AO3)

Much like Emma, Henry doesn't listen. No one else seems to want to find out but he needs to know who his father is.

OUTTAKE: the best things in life, the very best things, happen unexpectedly (AO3)

It's been ten years since they spent the night together on Halloween. But now he's back in her life and, despite the mess that's going on with Henry having three possible fathers, she can't stay away from him. Killian Jones was not a man that a woman could easily forget. [Rated M]

Chapter Nine: Mamma Mia - Part Two (AO3)

Dealing with Neal in the midst of a bar fight as Tiffany’s ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ blasted through the speakers is not how Killian thought this day would go.

Chapter Ten: The Winner Takes It All (AO3)

Killian is making Emma feel better after Neal's antics but the guilt is weighing heavily in his gut. He has to tell her, even if it means losing her.

Chapter Eleven: Waterloo (AO3)

Oh yeah, Henry needs to get ready and Neal needs to be dealt with, but Emma can definitely do all of that before the graduation ceremony later that morning.

Chapter Twelve: Slipping Through My Fingers (AO3)

Henry was going to find out the results of the paternity test no matter what. He just hopes he likes what it reveals.

Chapter Thirteen: Thank You For The Music (AO3)

All adults want to do is talk and maybe all Henry wants to do is wish he never started this.

[girl-by-the-seashore]

I did not mean to be the daughter that left. Or, I guess I thought it would be different - I have been dreaming of going abroad all by myself for years. I wanted to leave. At the time, my grandmother's musings of "well, sometimes it's nice to stay home, you've travelled and lived on your own, you might like staying home" fell on deaf - or, defiant - ears. I was going to go far and I was going to do great things.

The greatest thing I have ever done and will ever do is be her granddaughter, my grandfather's granddaughter, my parents' daughter.

In the end, I didn't go as far as 13-year-old me had hoped. I'd had dreams of Europe, or, at the very least, the other coast of the country. I worked so hard to be able to do it, dragged myself through hell to protect the opportunities my parents had given me to chase my dreams. When I got there, when it came time to make my choice.... I realized I didn't want it anymore. What I wanted was to be less than a day's travel from my family. I wanted to prioritize my home, the local communities that raised me. And so I left, a medium jump from my original dreams but big enough to get the independence I still so desperately wanted. I left so that I could learn, and grow, and come home with the tools I needed to ensure a home for the generations to come.

My family descended on my new home for thanksgiving and I received them joyfully. There was over 20 of us, plus three dogs, crowded around two massive tables covered with pumpkins, gourds, fall leaves, candles, and heaps and heaps of food. We shared our gratitude for one another, sobbing over the pain of change - we are so far dispersed now, and you can only share so much of your life over email. My grandmother's memory is going now, but she always recognizes me. I have a reminder set in my phone to message her every four days - I send her a photo of myself or whatever I've gotten into, a short update of my day. I live so far away now, but I can't let her forget me. I think it would kill me.

I drove my parents to the airport in the car that I bought for myself. My parents hugged me tightly and told me they were proud of me. I didn't cry until they walked away. They'd gotten me to the point of being capable to live the life I wanted, and I didn't want them to see me cry over how much chasing that life hurt. I drove myself home. I played my music on my radio. I returned to my apartment that I had decorated with my roommates, who had added more fall decorations since I'd been home last, who were cooking in the kitchen and filling our home with wonderful scents. I wrote my to-do list for the week, filled with school assignments that excited me and tasks for a job that I adored. I realized I had indeed built a life here, I had a family of my own choosing, I had things keeping me here. I wanted to stay. My heart was breaking over the distance from my parents, from my grandmother and her fading memory, and my grandfather and his dedicated kindness. But I was in the right place for myself.

I resented my sister when she left. I couldn't imagine how she could leave our family. Ironically, I moved to the same city she did at the time, although she was long gone from it. She had told me I would love it. It is a funny pattern, how I keep thinking my family doesn't know what is best for me. They know me better than anyone, and they routinely correctly identify what will be the best choice.

I really didn't mean the daughter that left. I listen to Noah Kahan's "You're Gonna Go Far" and I sob with the pain of the juxtaposition of leaving my loved ones while simultaneously loving the life I've built for myself, the life that is only the possible because of the opportunities my parents and grandparents made for me.

I think, at the end of the day, I just thought I had more time. I think I thought my grandparents would always be the same - I could go as far as I wanted, then come home and they would still be here. I was okay to leave if I knew they would be waiting for me when I came back. Leaving, knowing my grandmother wouldn't be the same when I came home next, that dementia would continue to take her from us, was a much, much harder choice. Many days I still don't feel like it was the right one, but I know it would hurt her more for me to sacrifice the life I wanted because of her. I can know that and regret every moment I've missed with her at the same time.

Grief only exists with love. We can't stop time from continuing. I can't return my grandmother's memories. I can only do my best to honour my family's hard work by making choices that give me a well-lived life.

Image ID: a black and white photo taken through the windshield of a white car. The street is lined with trees that are bare of leaves.