#but at least when I move out of my parents' house I will suffer less physically as well as psychologically

[norskheks]

got my bloodwork results back and I'm moderately FUCKING allergic to FUCKING

CATS

[maxdibert]

Any headcanons about Severus when he's not at Hogwarts hiding in the dungeons?

Ahhhhh yes!!! I have quite a few based on my personal interpretation. Lets go!

• Based on canon and the fact that Severus seems like someone who probably suffers from severe depression, I think he leaves Hogwarts and returns to his crappy house in Cokeworth as a form of self-punishment. If staying at Hogwarts, serving Dumbledore, and working as a teacher (even though he clearly doesn’t like children) is his subconscious way of repaying a debt to society, then isolating himself in his childhood home is like a second prison. It’s a depressing hole that only brings back horrible memories.

• He’s thought about selling it and moving somewhere else a thousand times, but he always finds himself incapable of doing so, as if something inside him tells him he doesn’t deserve to live in a place that isn’t utterly miserable.

• Despite growing up in a very Muggle-centric environment, he’s completely disconnected from Muggle culture since his parents died. He knows the basics and has more knowledge than the average wizard, but overall, he’s very out of touch.

• The Muggle world reminds him of his father and the disdain for magic his father had, which is why he stays away from anything related to that world.

• Ironically, the fact that no one in the Muggle world recognizes him or associates him with the burdens of being a spy or a teacher, infamous in half of magical British society for being an unpleasant bastard, gives him a certain sense of peace.

• Cognitive dissonance over his mixed heritage 24/7—it’s a constant source of inner conflict.

• Absolutely ZERO self-care. At Hogwarts, he maintains a routine and takes care of himself somewhat, but when he’s alone, he neglects himself entirely. He barely sleeps or stays up until dawn, often forgets to eat, and sometimes even forgets to shower.

• At home, he usually dresses like a wizard, but if he has to go outside for something, he wears clothes he’s had since he was 20. They’re ancient, faded, and worn out, but he doesn’t care because he lives in a shitty neighborhood and doesn’t think it’s worth the time to buy appropriate Muggle clothing.

• Extremely stingy. If he can save money on something, he will. He grew up without enough money for clothes as a child, so he’s very aware of his finances and hates spending on frivolities. He tries to haggle whenever possible and gets very, very annoyed if he thinks someone’s trying to rip him off.

• He could afford a few luxuries, but he never does because he feels guilty about spending money on himself unless it’s strictly necessary.

• Lucius worked very hard to teach him to “speak properly” and rid him of the “provincial” accent he arrived at Hogwarts with, but as soon as he sets foot in Cokeworth, his northern twang immediately comes back, and his way of speaking becomes much harsher.

• Similarly, being surrounded by purebloods and aristocrats taught him certain manners and customs, which he always uses at Hogwarts or in magical circles as a sort of shield, but at home, he’s the same working-class kid he’s always been and couldn’t care less about those pretensions.

• Once again, cognitive dissonance plays a role between the image he projects and his true working-class essence.

• When he’s very depressed, he tends to grab a pint at the biggest dive bar he can find and, paradoxically, feels quite comfortable among the rough crowd there.

• At work, he’s very orderly; at home, he’s not. His house is chaotic, but it’s an organized chaos. It’s full of books, papers, and research he’s working on, and while it looks like a mess, he knows exactly where everything is.

• He spends his time researching potions and reading books.

• He smokes occasionally, even though he always claims he’s quit.

• Sometimes, he doesn’t know whether he hates being at Hogwarts or at home more, but then he thinks that, at least at home, he doesn’t have to deal with putting up with idiots.

[blue-rose-soul]

What are your thoughts if your Devil Bastard AU if Alastor is a female? With Alastor being a woman, what kind of changes you can see with all other Hazbin characters? Will the story be different or will everything stay mostly the same?

Well for one, I think that even if Alastor were a woman - cis, trans, fluid, bi, or something else - nothing about his - her personality would change. Woman Alastor and Man Alastor are very much the same Alastor. Hell, I'm very attached to the idea that as a woman, she would continue to rock old timey suits and trousers (but I also love insanely long hair on characters, so imagine bifauxnen Alastor with hair going down to her ankles). The main thing that would change about Alastor's interactions with other people is how they regard her because, no matter how unbiased any of us thinks we are, we do tend to treat people of different genders in different, small ways we don't even really think about.

I feel like Vaggie would be less hostile towards Alastor on a day to day basis. Honestly, she isn't particularly bad most of the time after their initial meeting in canon, and in this AU they still don't particularly like each other, but there's less arm crossing and glaring in their daily interactions. Sir Pentious is perfectly willing to fight women, clearly, but after moving into the hotel he acts more... I guess gentlemanly towards Alastor? Addressing her as 'my dear' and such, at least until Alastor flashes a toothy grin and icy glare at him. Angel Dust obviously wouldn't proposition this version of Alastor, duh, but he cracks a lot of femdom jokes now. Husk and Niffty still mostly act the same, but with Husk he doesn't shove or poke Alastor when he's annoyed with her. Only Niffty's interactions with Alastor are 100% unchanged.

But the first major departure from canon comes with Lucifer's introduction. As a woman, the traits Alastor shares in common with her mother are much more apparent. Lucifer takes one look at her, realizes she looks like someone he knew, but at the same time not, and tentatively asks...

L: Nicaise? A: [Painful neck snap and glare.] A: How do you know my mother's name? L: Your... hunh!? C: Dad, what's going on? Do you know Alastor?

Lucifer is able to put two and two together much more quickly in this scenario.

Now, Alastor still hates Lucifer on sight, but like her canon counterpart, she doesn't do anything beyond needling Lucifer a bit, trying to provoke him into starting the fight. However, since her method of doing so is mainly by drawing attention to his shortcomings as a parent, Lucifer misinterprets this as her already knowing about their relationship and doesn't take the bait. At least, not in the way she expects, much to her confusion. After reconciling with Charlie, Lucifer turns to Alastor.

Alastor's first thought is that she'd gotten to Lucifer after all and he's going to make her suffer for the insolent jabs. She braces herself for a fight...

Only for Lucifer to apologize to her. He didn't know Nicaise was pregnant, he barely even remembered anything that happened after they went to her house together! And of course, if he'd known he would have stayed, would have made sure that she and their daughter were taken care of-

Alastor is like a deer in headlights while Angel Dust and Husk promptly choke on their popcorn.

The rest of the group bursting out into frantic questions makes Lucifer realize that he maybe should have picked a better time and place. Especially when Alastor steps back and then vanishes into a puddle of shadows. Before he has a chance to process the fact that his youngest daughter just ran away from him, his oldest daughter grabs him by the shoulders, looks him in the eyes, and shouts:

"Dad, what the fuck!?"

[hiiragi7]

(Warning for discussion of abuse)

There is a certain ableist and classist feel to the way that a lot of people talk about highschool education and graduation that I've noticed. "I bet they never graduated highschool" is often used as an insult and to imply stupidity, for example. I've noticed this trend for a long time, but struggled to put it into words.

While education is important, I often feel very put down by the amount of emphasis placed on being a highschool graduate (and, on the opposite end, the disdain for non-graduates). I never graduated, due to a variety of factors; I suffered very extreme abuse starting in first grade from the school environment (As a diagnosed autistic kid growing up in SPED in the 2000s, ABA was the standard), I was being abused at home, I moved schools a lot, I struggle with several disabilities which impacted my ability to learn and developmentally I was never really at the same level as my peers besides in English and art, I developed chronic physical issues while I was still in school due to a genetic condition, and finally, I was kicked out of the house when I was 17 by my parents and I just never ended up going back to school (not that I could have graduated anyway due to a variety of issues).

I was never able to learn quite right and that lead to me falling further and further behind. By the time I was in middle school, I was already so far behind my peers that even if my teachers had wanted to help me learn the content, there was so much they would have had to teach me that it would have been impossible for them to fit it into the time I had with them, especially when they had a lot of other students to attend to besides me. On top of that, I had already given up on my own education sometime during elementary school, so any attempts that were made by my teachers were not well-received by me. I had already developed a complex web of trauma responses to anything to do with school by that point.

It seemed that I was caught in an impossible situation where between the trauma I suffered with and my autism, I could not tolerate even being in a classroom setting, much less learn in it, but there were no other options, which lead to chronic activation of trauma responses which overwhelmed both me and my teachers as well as everyone else in my life. There was also no understanding for me in these settings either, and nobody informed enough to realize what was going on with me and why I was constantly either shutting down and unresponsive or having severe panic attacks. Rather, I was called lazy, manipulative, not trying hard enough, making excuses, acting out for attention, and a slew of other insults as well as near-constant punishments which only served to traumatize me further.

To this day, I only have a second grade education in math. I do not know multiplication, division, algebra, physics, chemistry, and a variety of other subjects. Attempting to study school subjects gives me flashbacks no matter which method I use, whether it's online or with another person or on my own. I am gifted in English, but otherwise I do not know many of the things that people are generally taught in school as kids.

When I tell people I never graduated, often the response is "it's okay, you can still get your GED!" as if me not having graduated is a character flaw that I must eventually work to fix. It makes me feel as though my worth and value as a person is tied to whether or not I have at least a highschool education, and that without it I am less worthy of people's time.

Going back to my initial point, if not graduating highschool makes you "stupid", you must also consider who in practice is unable to graduate highschool - I find it is often disabled kids, traumatized kids, and impoverished kids. Not all of them, I'm sure, but definitely a lot of them.

Tying intellect and a person's worth to whether or not they graduated highschool fucks over those who couldn't through no real fault of their own and frames them as lesser for it. How can you say you believe in disability rights when you shit on those who are too disabled to complete school? How can you say you are against classism when you view people who could not graduate due to having to work full-time as lesser than you?

I feel that regardless of how much people insist they are an advocate (or how much they say "No no, when I said people who don't graduate are stupid I didn't mean those people, I only meant what I see as the acceptable group of non-graduates to call stupid"), there are biases at play regarding perceived intellect and formal education. I am viewed as inherently less-than when people learn I did not graduate. My lack of a highschool graduation certificate or "at least" a GED is viewed with pity by just about everyone I talk to.

I don't have a neat way to wrap up this post, but I do think it is important for people to examine their own biases when it comes to discussing formal education, as well as the overlap of non-graduates and marginalized groups, especially as it pertains to disability politics and capitalism.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Chapter 7- Clandestine

Guys. I am not being dramatic when I say that I suffered from so much Writer's Block during this chapter. I know it's not amazing, but that this point I just needed to put something out there. Please please leave notes and comments and kudos, I need encouragement. CW: Walburga is in this one, guys. Nuff said? If not, transphobia, dysphoria, child abuse, unsafe binding, misgendering, deadnaming, all of those things.

The dream was always the same, now. His mother and father, backing him into a corner, wands raised, jeering at him.

Screaming his old name.

Repeating insults and promising horrible things, choking him with frills and lace.

He would always wake with a scream.

Barty and Evan swore he was cracking with the pressure of exams. Barty suggested drugs. Regulus chucked pillows at him.

-

“We have a plan, Reg,” Sirius reassured him one warm day in May.

It was true. They had a plan. That was all Regulus could remind himself as the days continued to warm.

A month at home. Then, he was to go to Dorcas’s and Sirius was to go to the Potters’.

A month. He could do that. He’d done it before. He had Sirius.

“I still don’t understand why Mother and Father agreed to my going to Cas’s house at all,” Regulus murmured back, not meeting Sirius’s concerned eyes.

That was how Sirius usually looked at him now- with worry and concern. He hated making Sirius worry, hated making anyone worry, but It didn’t help that he was a mess, with deep circles under his eyes and constantly wincing when he moved because of how tight he kept the bandages.

Sirius suggested, once, that he loosen them, but he refused. He hated the feeling of being without them. The nausea. The cold chills. And they kept him grounded, somehow. A reminder that he could fight against his body. Even though he felt, some days, like he was losing. Losing against everything, really.

“I…I think they’re just thankful that you want to be friends with a girl,” Sirius suggested gently.

Regulus mulled that over. He’d always rejected associating with girls, always pushed so much to not be grouped with his girl cousins, that his parents were probably rejoicing at the idea of him spending time with a pureblood girl. As if maybe Dorcas would have a good influence on him.

“Well, if they think she’ll make me more girly, they have another thing coming,” Regulus chuckled humorlessly. Dorcas was fierce and passionate and intelligent and relentless and bold. But she rejected bows and dresses almost as much as Regulus did.

“Yes, but they don’t have to know that,” Sirius grinned, knocking Regulus with his shoulder.

-

It was strange, how the days seemed to pass faster and faster as it got warmer. It was as if they were trying to run away, like they knew Regulus was grasping to them for dear life, and they would do anything to escape his hold.

The idea that he would only have to be home for a month sustained him. It kept him from completely freaking out. He felt the panic underneath his very skin, but he didn't let it break free.

Admittedly, he got sick of the way Sirius and his friends kept looking at him- like he was going to burst into tears or have some sort of fit. It made it worse. Like they thought he was fragile. Girls were fragile. He was not. He was...he could be...strong. He didn't want to worry anyone.

He was terrified, too, that if he became a burden, people would be less likely to indulge him. That they would see him as an inconvenience and stop helping him.

That was the only problem with the happiness that came with being who he was. He was petrified to lose it. And he needed people's help, at least for now, to continue.

He hated needing them, but he did need them. He needed Sirius's old uniforms and Pandora's biology know-how and Dorcas's haircutting charms. He needed them to call him but his name and remind him he wasn't crazy.

So he held the nerves and emotions inside, fearful of being too much, and reminded himself over and over again.

Only a month. Only a month.

-

His parents still had no idea he was called "Regulus" at school- that he was in the boys' dorms and was accepted as a boy there. He'd managed to hide his original letter from Hogwarts. So, he and Sirius decided he would avoid leaving the train for as long as possible when they arrived. That would stop anyone from referring to him as “Regulus” in front of his parents, and stop his parents from using his old name in front of his friends.

So as the train squealed to a stop and students piled out, he sat in the window, watching those he knew reunite with their families.

Dorcas ran to her exhausted-looking grandparents and hugged them eagerly, allowing her siblings to surround her and embrace her as well. She looked so thrilled, so relieved to see her family. The children were dressed in threadbare clothing but they still looked happy. Their smiles and rosy cheeks somehow made up for their mismatched outfits and array of obvious hand-me-downs.

In stark contrast, across the platform, Barty walked up to a very smartly-dressed man. It was clear this man had money- the way he held himself just oozed affluence. The man, Barty’s father, looked down on him with obvious distaste, gesturing towards Barty’s Slytherin tie. Regulus inhaled a bit as Barty visibly deflated, shrugging and making some sort of halfhearted comment back, only for the man to turn quickly and lead his son from the station. Anger riled a bit in Regulus’s stomach.

He then spotted Evan and Pandora walking slowly and waving goodbye to friends and towards Regulus on the train, looking around for their parents. Regulus realized only a moment after Evan and Pandora, themselves, that their parents weren’t there. His chest constricted as he saw a very meek-looking house elf walk towards them. They exchanged a glance before walking toward the elf, who they seemed to recognize, and the three of them walked towards the Floo connection in the back of the station wordlessly.

As they disappeared, Regulus took a moment to control his fury. Their parents didn’t even come for them. As they returned from their first year of Hogwarts. They sent the house elf. He wanted to punch the wall. He realized with a pang that he wasn't the only one of his friends who was in for a difficult summer.

In an effort to distract himself from this thought, he turned his head to watch someone else. Anyone else. And of course, his eyes found James Potter. They did that a lot.

He was walking toward a tall, handsome man with dark hair and glasses, who was grinning from ear to ear; and a shorter, chubby woman with tan skin and kind eyes, whose hair reached all the way down her back.

It was clear, very quickly, that the man and woman were Potter’s parents. Their features, their warmth, their laughter…even if they weren’t both hugging Potter, it would have been easy to see.

And then Sirius approached, waving a bit hesitantly. And in one fell swoop, the woman pulled Sirius in her arms, making him grin and blush a bit, as the four of them began talking quickly to each other.

And Regulus felt the insane urge to join them. To place himself in the middle of their four-way embrace and just drink in the obvious warmth there.

He felt the slightest tinge of jealousy seep through his body as he watched Sirius so easily meld into their little family, so easily receive love.

While he waited on the train alone.

-

“How was your first year, Regina? I trust you did well?”

The question at dinner that night hit him hard, the name stabbing white-hot, even more than usual after not having heard it for a year. He resisted the urge to upend the table.

What should he say?

“Regulus is top in his class, Mother,” came Sirius’s cold-but-proud voice from across the table.

Regulus fought back the urge to smile at Sirius’s pride. It was true. He’d aced every single one of his final exams.

But there was a beat of silence as it seemed Mother and Father were trying to decide how to react to Sirius’s statement.

Finally, Mother said, in a voice filled with cold fury, “Regulus?”

It was clear what she meant. She did not mean to address him. She meant to ask what Sirius meant by the name. Why he was still using it.

And suddenly, Regulus felt as if he was at a crossroads. He could submit to his parents for the summer, like he had been terrified to do. Play their games, allow them to scare him and control him. Or…

He looked at Sirius, who was looking back at him, that same sympathetic expression on his face. And all at once, he felt a stab of anger and bravery strike him.

He pasted an angelic smile on his face. “Yes, mother?” he asked politely, as if responding to his name being called.

Sirius’s mouth popped open and he grinned.

Regulus felt a moment of triumph and pride.

But then both he and Sirius yelled out at once, an invisible spell striking them both in the face.

“Do not use that name in my house,” Mother growled, chin raised and eyes flashing. "And if you dare embarrass our house with this little...illness anymore, Regina...your father and I will have to resort to more drastic measures.

Fighting back the sense of for guilt getting Sirius hurt but unable to be scared, Regulus just slammed his silverware down and left the room silently.

-

Was it better to get something you’ve yearned for for so long only to have someone try to rip it away from you again? Or just not get it at all?

This was the thing Regulus contemplated constantly over the next few weeks.

His parents were ruthless.

They seemed to still believe he only acted like this at home, that it was still a phase- an act of rebellion- and they had the chance to change it. It was as if they’d made an agreement to come down even harder on him this summer, to try to physically stomp the fight out of him. Like they’d agreed that, if they tried hard enough, they could exorcise any evidence of masculinity in him. Like a demon.

If he dared insist he was a boy, he was locked in his room. If he had the gall to correct anyone on his name, he was hit.

He was refused multiple meals for point-blank rejecting the dresses Mother bought him and had spells shot at him for continuously washing the makeup off his face when she wasn’t looking.

But this year, it was different.

He remembered, last year, the place he had been in. The shell he had become. He had been so tired, so hopeless, so frustrated. He’d tried to fight, but he’d had no idea who he was or how to be who he was. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, he’d never been given a true chance. The fight that had left him and the numbness he had felt had been like a trickle of water into his lungs, slowly drowning him without him even realizing.

But after a year at Hogwarts, a year of living, he couldn’t feel like that again. He couldn’t force himself back into that box. He knew better.

So he found it easier and less scary to fight and take the pain, because he knew it was better this way. Better than the way he reacted when submitting to their expectations or being someone he was not.

So, really, having gotten to be who he was for just a little while gave him the fight to remember who he was when he was being hurt and questioned and screamed at. When they tried to force him to forget.

-

After three weeks, though, it still took a toll.

He survived.

He lost far too much weight from the meals he wasn’t given.

He had layers of magically hidden bruises from his Mother’s wrath.

He winced and groaned as he pulled the bandages around his growing chest tiger still. He had heat rashes, now, and his skin was on fire.

He hated his body.

But he kept quiet. He didn’t allow anyone to see him in pain. He felt like that would be admitting defeat.

He also knew that if he showed his pain too much, Sirius would try to do more for him. And part of him was scared that Sirius would get sick of that. That he would leave him alone. Like he had when he'd gone to Hogwarts the first time.

Only twice did Sirius catch him crying. And both times, Sirius's startled look sent them both into waves of tears.

They survived together.

-

He’d stressed for days about going to Dorcas’s with long hair. He tried not to let it show, but he knew Sirius knew.

At Hogwarts, he cut it regularly. Dorcas knew a charm. But Mother and Father had taken both his and Sirius’s wands, and hidden anything sharp. They’d insisted he would do well to grow it out.

Instead, he worried.

But Sirius snuck into his room the night before they were both due to leave and led him to the bathroom, sitting him in the tub and taking a pair of scissors out from his pocket.

“Where’d you get those?” Regulus breathed, hardly daring to speak in more than a whisper. Mother and Father had been a lot more vigilant about checking to see if they were sneaking into each other’s rooms- they thought that Sirius was a bad influence.

“I sent Procyon to James and asked for a pair. I didn’t tell him why,” Sirius murmured, gently sitting on the edge of the tub behind him and snipping away.

Procyon was the family owl. But he was usually locked in his cage when not in use. “How–”

“Remus taught me how to pick locks the Muggle way,” Sirius cut him off, a smile in his voice. Snip. “It took a few nights of trying, but I finally got him out. Good he got some exercise, it’s not like Mother and Father use him often.”

Walburga and Orion preferred Floo calls or in-person meetings. Something about the post not being trustworthy.

“So they didn’t catch you?” Regulus asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

Snip. “Don’t think so. Hold still, you’re squirming.”

But Regulus had to turn to face Sirius. Again, he was risking being caught and subsequently punished. Just for him. “I…thank you. For doing that.”

Sirius studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. “You’re worth it, Reggie.”

And Regulus turned away, not sure how to respond to that, instead just focusing on the feeling of the cool metal brushing his skin.

-

Let it be known that Sirius did not gain his dramatics in a vacuum. Walburga Black was known to be vindictively theatrical in her own special way.

Or maybe she was just pissed about his hair. Either way, she waited until the morning to tell them: Regulus was only allowed to go to Dorcas’s if she deemed Dorcas and her grandparents “appropriate.”

Regulus panicked. There was no way. Dorcas was the farthest thing from what his parents could count as appropriate- her fiery personality was far from ‘ladylike’ and she certainly would never refer to him as anything other than “Regulus.”

And the worst part was that Regulus had no way to warn her. Sirius had left before him for the Potters, and he was the best at coming up with plans. It all happened in a matter of moments. One second, he was packing, and the next Walburga was insisting she needed to make sure that Regulus would finally be around a 'good influence.' That she no longer would just be sending him through the Floo, she would be apparating him and meeting Dorcas and her family properly. Without leaving much time for argument, she dragged Regulus out the door.

-

Dorcas’s house was small. Especially for a family of seven. As they approached, Regulus took in the run-down lawn and obviously old exterior. The lawn was not cut and the paint of the house was peeling. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought back to the obnoxiously expensive way his parents had decorated their own house.

Walburga didn’t hesitate and rapped on the door firmly, sending birds in the tree nearby flying away.

Regulus’s heart hammered as they waited. He started picturing all of the things Mother could say to completely mortify him. Yes, Dorcas knew. But they had never discussed what she was going to tell her family. And she had never seen Regulus around his parents. The way his mother treated him. Maybe she saw him as a boy now, but after Walburga was through? Things would change, he was sure.

The door opened slowly. “Hello, can I help you?”

It was Dorcas. Thankfully, she looked decently put together. (Not that Regulus minded- he’d seen her in her pajamas enough to not care. But he knew his mother would judge.)

Walburga still looked down her nose at Dorcas, of course. And then…“Yes, is your mother home?” she asked snootily. Regulus blanched. He had told her. Told her that Dorcas was raised by her grandparents. Why was she so insensitive–? “My grandmother is here,” Dorcas answered simply, not allowing her expression to change.

Regulus tried to shoot her an apologetic glance even as he wanted to strangle his mother.

Dorcas left, only to return with the older woman from the train station. “How can I help you?” the woman asked politely.

With no introduction, Walburga started in. “I’d like to talk to you about my daughter before I leave her with you. I want to make sure your home is….appropriate for Regina.” Walburga spoke in almost a snarl, not bothering to keep the accusation out of her voice.

Daughter. Her. Regina. He fought back a gag. His hands shook. He felt goosebumps all over his body, as if his own skin was trying to reject the words. He studied Dorcas’s face, searching for disgust there, his heart pounding with fear and anticipation.

But Dorcas spoke up, confidently, her expression seemingly warm, but Regulus could detect a hint of fakeness. “We’re very excited to have Regina. We’ll make sure she’s very safe here.”

Regulus’s mouth popped open audibly, and he felt tears form in his eyes before he could stop them. Hearing his old name come from Dorcas’s mouth was worse, somehow. Why was it worse? His brain reeled and he felt his stomach roil, but then Dorcas threw him a sharp glance, tilting her head just slightly at Regulus’s mother.

His visibly pleased mother.

And it clicked.

“Yes, Dorcas has told me all about Regina,” Dorcas’s grandmother agreed brightly, also throwing Regulus a meaningful look. “She’s always welcome and safe here.”

Regulus blinked. He looked back and forth between the two adults, who seemed to now be in some sort of stare-off. He decided to go for broke and really sell it. “Cas promised to teach me how to straighten my hair,” he murmured, trying to make his voice sound high-pitched and excited, while simultaneously holding back his breakfast.

Walburga looked at him for a moment and Regulus knew he had her. As protective of her reputation as she was, Walburga would never outright ask if he was introducing himself as Regulus in school or telling his friends about his ‘problem.’ That would be admitting in the first place that he wasn’t the 'perfect daughter.'

So all she could do was…

“Alright. Lovely to meet you, then.”

And that was that.

-

Please please leave comments and kudos and love and read the WIP here!

Credit to @betweendyingstars whose beautiful fanart partially inspired a scene in this chapter, though their version of Sirius and Reggie are older.

[legolasghosty]

HELLO MY LOVE!!

10. for platonic Alex and Flynn please 👀

Hello my love, I am so so sorry for how long this took!!!! I have no excuse unless you count college. But here it is now!!!! I hope you like it!!!

Alex and Flynn had a funny kind of friendship. They'd first met when they got paired up in a middle school lab class. However, their first impressions of each other were formed months earlier when Flynn and her parents moved in across the street from Alex's house.

Alex's parents had taken one look at the lesbian couple unloading boxes at the old Murphy house and told Alex to stay away. Alex hadn't had the same aversion to their new neighbors as his parents, but he'd been too afraid of crossing them to actually go say hello. But he watched them sometimes.

Not in a creepy way. He promised. They just seemed so happy, the two of them and their kid. It made him feel a little less alone. Maybe it was possible to be happy being the way he was. That little family had managed it after all.

Regardless, he and Flynn didn't actually meet till September. There may have been an argument and some splashed sugar water during that first conversation. But after that, they got along surprisingly well. They didn't really hang out when they weren't at school though. They both had other friends. And Alex's parents were less than thrilled the one time they saw the pair walking home from school together. So they were lab partners and writing buddies and co-sufferers in math. It was simple and it worked.

It wasn't till high school that they really became proper friends though. Julie and Luke met and hit it off, and soon their friend groups were a big tangle of inside jokes and movie nights at Julie's and one big table at lunch. Alex and Flynn got closer, combining their snarky senses of humor against their friends and whining about how pretty their respective crushes were.

And after Alex came out at home, it didn't really matter who his friends were. His parents couldn't exactly resent him more. So he and Flynn started walking home together. No reason not to. Sometimes they walked in near silence. Sometimes one of them would ramble on and on while the other listened. Sometimes they talked about deep stuff like trauma and what happened when people died. Sometimes they joked around about whatever horrible concoction Luke had created for lunch that day. It didn't matter much. They were friends. They walked home together.

But then Alex turned 18. And well... his parents didn't exactly kick him out, per se, but Alex knew he was supposed to leave. Julie's dad, Ray, had already offered him the Molina guest room at least through graduation, so Alex spent his birthday packing up and moving out of his parents' house. At least it was a Saturday, so he didn't have to worry about school. All of his friends chipped in to help him pack and move everything over.

It was for the best. Alex knew that. But it was hard to think that way when he and Flynn were standing at the intersection of Birch and 13th Monday afternoon, where they'd always turned left together to walk home.

"So, I guess I'm going this way?" Alex said after a minute. Julie was already halfway down the block, unaware of the situation.

"Yeah," Flynn agreed quietly, glancing between Alex and her own route home. The route that wasn't Alex's anymore. "And I'm going that way."

They both stood there for a long moment, both unsure as to what to say. This was good, that Alex was out of the Mercer house. But what did they do now that they couldn't walk all the way home together? What did people do to say goodbye this early?

More than anything, Alex wanted her to know that nothing had changed. They were still friends, he would still be there for them at 2 am when they drank too many sodas and started rambling about her girlfriend. She would still smack him upside the head for letting people walk all over him. They would still talk about everything and nothing and anything in between. But how did he say that?

"Text me when you get home?" Flynn said suddenly, grinning.

Alex jumped, startled out of his thoughts, but then returned their smirk. "Definitely, you too," he responded. "No dying on the way home."

Flynn rolled their eyes and laughed. "As if you could get rid of me that easily, Mercer," she snarked, tossing her braids back over their shoulder. They paused for a second, then added, "So is this how we work now?" in a softer tone.

Alex took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I guess so. Doesn't change us though, right?"

"Right," Flynn said, smiling. Years of friendship allowed Alex to pick up the traces of relief in their eyes. "See ya around then," she said, waving as she headed for her house.

"See ya," Alex echoed as he turned to follow Julie. He smiled as he walked away from the corner. He and Flynn would be alright. They'd been friends for ages, they could manage not walking home together. It might just take some work. They could do that.

[anxiouslyfred]

Demanded Abduction

For @dukexietyweek prompt of Pirates

Summary: On a raid of a town, Captain Virgil meets a noble claiming that he's kidnapping them that night. When the same noble shows up a few days later as they try to depart it's a slightly bigger issue.

Warnings: a few innuendoes, kidnapping where the abductor is against it?

/\/\

Virgil had grown up in a town like this; tormented by Nobility and Pirates alike, with parents proud of being goodly plain folk who didn't strive above their lot. Sometimes he missed that simplicity if not the less than appetising repetitive meals of all they could afford.

He didn't regret becoming one of the pirates though, especially once he became captain and could direct their torment better to the larger houses of wealth and nobles. He even believed his father approved of the choice had it be figured out, knowing how many times after a few drinks during a festival his father would describe how he'd run a pirate crew himself.

Virgil's father had been the one to point out there couldn't be much profit from pirates raiding the shops and homes of the wharf. All monies were taken to the bank mid afternoon and any beyond that taken home to houses near the back of the town. Those should be the ones pirates raided, and they'd even be able to stay in town longer if they reach towns as trade ships or privately owned vessels for leisure and paid the docking dues appropriately.

Even now with years of Virgil's raids gone, the nobility thought a large house out of sight of the sea front would reduce the likelihood of pirates raiding their homes and stealing money, valuables and servants tired of their bullying ways.

"Oh good, pirates are back in town. I was wondering when the next raid would be or if I needed to convince Mother that Lady Valerie's sculptures might be ostentatious but hadn't encouraged pirates to raid her so we should get some." The voice interrupted Virgil's thoughts and he found himself facing a person leaning against the wall, sword at their waist. "You're going to kidnap me Captain Pirate."

"Now why would I do that, fair noble? Better to spill noble blood on their carpets than suffer their presence and rescue parties." Virgil countered, raising an eyebrow and his sword.

The noble shimmied, "Raunchy and if that's your choice then do it. I won't argue. Make me a mess of guts and gore to traumatise my family."

"Way to put a guy off violence. Let's do this instead." he sighed before lunging forward to shove the noble through the door they were leant beside, yanking it shut and hurrying as silently as he could away from them through the house.

He did hope that it would deter whatever was going through the mind of someone asking to be kidnapped but doubted it would.

At least for that night Virgil got back to his ship with no unexpected noble tagging along.

*

Even without their flags or unregistered presence giving away the presence of a pirate ship they could only remain in town a few days before the rich started trying the docks to locate them. Virgil knew the signs to spot as well as he knew which houses had guards prone to violence and ordered his crew to prepare to leave as soon as he spotted the first overly well dressed patrician in the bar.

He did have a few errands to run before they could set sail however so hurried to get stocks of bandages brought and additional dried fruit stocks while his crew re-secured everything below deck, or made similar errands for stocks to repair the various parts of the ship.

“Captain! We left the deck empty for like two minutes, I swear!” The 2nd Mate racing up to him just as he finished his errands definitely wasn't what he wanted from leaving day.

Mentally running through all likely issues, Virgil immediately straightened, “Boarded or robbed? Do we know who's done whatever this was?”

“A nobleman boarded, in what seems to be their attempt at scruffy clothes. He's sat on deck still and refusing to move.” She explained with racing words. “When we tried to force them to they tied a guide rope around their wrist and started trying to tie another around themself and the mast.”

At least that didn't sound like immediate trouble, Virgil hoped, mind running back to the noble from the other night. “With a fake moustache and a poor attempt at bleaching the front of their hair?”

“And a tight corset too. I think they're trying to suffocate themself.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “From the conversation I had refusing to kidnap them the other night, I can believe that. Let's go.”

*

“I don't know whether to call you Princess or Princey, so I'm just going to stick with noble scum.” Virgil stated, sauntering onto his ship and spotting the enthusiastic kidnappee. “So Scum, what'll it take to get you off my ship?”

“I love it! Please do! Although if you want you could call me my name, Remus.” The noble agreed easily.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, leaning close to look at the knot above Remus's hands. “You didn't say what will get you off my ship. Make no mistake you will be leaving it. I won't have some noble family on a quest for vengeance after my crew just because some scum decided they wanted abducting.”

“Captain Virgil!” A booming voice echoed from beside the ship. “I'm of the noble family of Fletcher. Is our errant daughter Alice aboard your ship?”

His eyes narrowed, taking in the immediate frown on Remus's face and turning from them to stand at the edge of his ship. “I have some noble scum who managed to tangle themself in my guide ropes. I've no need for the names of intruders.”

“Our father has sent me to say that either Alice returns home now or never returns and forfeits her inheritance. Is she aboard your vessel?” A nobleman dressed in red stared up at him from the dock.

Virgil hears a hiss from behind him, like a cat trying to scare off an attacker, followed by a sigh. “Never wanted that inheritance anyway and you can't make me leave.” Remus muttered, registering his attention despite Virgil making no move to turn at the noise.

“Lord Fletcher will not chase my ship or swear vengeance should the scum tied to my mast be your sibling? What proof do I have to trust in this?” He yelled back.

“Come to the dock so we can discuss this in person, Captain. Instead of yelling for all the town to hear.” Remus's sibling suggested, gesturing the length of the boarding plank.

*

“Roman does apparently know your name, rather than the stranger your family knows.” Virgil stated, climbing back aboard and moving to untie the ropes around Remus now. “And has provided all your papers, a written letter from himself confirming your removal from the responsibilities as a lord-heir, and another from your father revoking all responsibility towards you and declaring your inheritance revoked.”

Remus laughed now, pulling their hands free from the rope. “He had to put on a show of doing as told, didn't he? Can't just come aboard to say his piece when anything could be said without reports reaching Lord Fletcher to confirm his task properly done.”

“This still isn't a kidnapping.” Virgil added, a glance showing a pout directed at him. “And if you're joining my crew you better be ready for hard work. The First mate is over there, and the second mate was who climbed aboard with me after you first tangled yourself here.”

“I've been waiting my hole life for that. And Hiding down dark holes on vast expanses of water almost describes my dream life and I get to sleep below deck now, right?” Remus agreed easily, jumping up and looking around at the rest of the crew. “Or am I being kept to warm the captain's bed? I'm ever so willing to do that too.”

Virgil didn't reply, walking away to discuss their departure with his first mate and waving the second mate over to Remus. She could start getting them up to speed with the life on his ship.

[lifeinthegladhouse]

the unfortunate news was given that my dad's chemo probably isn't working so he "might" have to do 30 day "isolation chemo" (?) which sounds horrible and scary. I want to visit him then if so... I don't want him to be alone for 30 days. I'm terrified he will be abusive to me.

when my mother died, she couldn't hurt me, even though I was terrified to see her. seeing her helpless body waste away from cancer was traumatizing but also released any fear I ever had of her, even though the memory of her abuse will always live in me.

my dad was not abusive like she was but sometimes i think he is worse for ever enabling her to be around me, ever choosing to "raise" a kid with her, comparatively, she had much less choice in her actions than he did.

i dont know what it means or if it will help. i didnt think these chemo rounds would help... i never thought my dad would get better... but hearing the advancing news doesn't help.

especially after watching someone's long term dying lead to hospice and then death and how irreverently it was handled, in this household (my partner's grandmother).

my dad will lose whatever hair he has left and im sure will look unrecognizable in a way.

whatever anger or apathy i have to combat my sense of obligation that shouldnt even really exist... i feel for him. im scared for him. i dont want him to suffer, and i dont know if it's worth going through.

i dont want to sway his decision, im positive he will die from this either way. i dont want to lose time with him, but ive already lost time. he's had 30 years to fix this and he hasnt...

i dont know if i can physically handle the grief of seeing him this way.

he always sounds livelier over the phone than he is, but... he didn't watch his parents die this way.

i will lose both of my parents to horrible forms of cancer (i mean, they're all horrible). at least Gene froze to death and it shocked everyone and he didn't suffer.

we've been iced in for a week here in p0rtland, and i got money back that i "owed" to unemployment when gene died. it felt like, after 3 years, he was helping me,... of all times to get the money back now... itll help me move out of my in laws... but a horrible thought happened... what if it's because my dad is going to go sooner than we thought?

i cant decide, anyways, and ocd is a bitch.

my back is killing me from days of making music and trying to learn mixing and mastering and animation and editing just for the fuck of it to stay sane, entirely diy.

today i cant focus, anymore... im listening to david bowie and crying alone and listening to my stupid in laws talking in the kitchen. i cant mourn here because this is a house of narcissism and enabling. hell, someone DIED in THEIR family and THEY wont/cant even mourn.

if my dad doesnt take the chemo, he will continue to failingly rely on his weekly (or more) blood transfusions. and eventually, he will die. maybe he will choose that to spare himself, and in a way, i almost wish he would, but i cant say i really wish that, ... i wish he was a better father, i wish he didnt have cancer even if he is 73, i dont wish him a sudden death bc itd be jarring but a long way is almost worse. i dont know what i want. i wish he couldve ever cared for me so that i could care for him. but what happened is he didnt care for me, and i care, but i cant care FOR him. i cant fix this. i cant love or unlove or hurt or unhurt it away.

when he dies i will not have any family left.

and then some part of me will be released from this burden of grieving a family that was always "dead" to me, but now, permanently, which will just feel fucked up.

ive spent 3 years grieving mom and gene. then i will grieve him too. when will it fucking end

in spite of this i have to work hard to perservere bc its what gene would want. its what my dad would want even tho fuck what he wants. its what *i* would want if i was diagnosed with cancer tomorrow myself or in 40 years. im terrified.

im tired.

im so goddamn tired

[craftytragedysalad]

Two dialogues that haven't left my mind since the season finale.

I'm still surprised at how much space Carlos and his family history got in the end, although I still think Gabriel's death is controversial to say the least.

But they tried to show in two chapters how Carlos "thought" he knew his father, but he didn't.

I wish this story had had time to develop more because it was a really good direction to take, but then again, you can't have everything in life right? We'll have to accept that Carlos will have to mature all these ideas without having his father around.

The first dialogue that caught my attention was this one, where Andrea talks to Carlos to try to show him that his father is worthy of respect and admiration.

She uses this sentence above to imply that Carlos doesn't know Gabriel as well as he thinks.

Then we have this scene where Carlos goes to his parents' house, to try to resolve the uneasiness of the last conversation with Gabriel and to invite him to be his best man.

The dialogue clearly shows that Carlos hasn't been interested in his father's life for at least a few years, since he doesn't know that he's been doing puzzles with Andrea and trying to take better care of his health.

My opinion is still that the biggest weight of the mistake is on Gabriel's side because as he himself mentions, he never gave a list of things he did for the Rangers while Carlos was growing up so his son would know his side as a person who fights for diversity in the organization and will have pride of the father.

Then I found myself thinking about Carlos' age. In Gabriel's recording that Carlos found hidden, the year 2003 is mentioned. The little Carlos who appears in the recording was what? 7 years old? Maybe a little less?

Therefore, we can conclude that Carlos is currently between 27 and 29 years old.

He told TK that he came out to his parents when he was 17. In the conversation about children with Andrea, Carlos mentions that he has been having a closer relationship with his father for only two years.

So we can conclude that Carlos and his needs were ignored by his parents for approximately 12 years.

This man who worked in his own organization to ensure diversity, did he ever find it strange that his son never introduced him to a boyfriend? He never thought to ask? For 12 years?

Look, I'm not trying to demonize Gabriel here, I am also mourning his death, but just to rationalize the weight of what was shown.

There would be so much space to work on the development of this father-son relationship that my grief is much more for that than for Carlos' suffering. Yes, it broke my heart to see him so devastated by his father's death, but he was certainly so mad precisely because he had so many unresolved issues that he would never have the chance to resolve.

Yes, I agree that our real life is also like that, when we hold a grudge, sometimes we don't have time to take it back before life knocks us down, but I hope that the next season will work on healing Carlos in that sense, of the understanding that yes, he made a mistake, he moved away from his father, he could have reached out a hand and reduced the distance, but he needs to understand that this is the responsibility of the parents and that he should not carry this guilt alone, as if the universe were with him punishing him for not having fought harder to know his father for real.

I know that Gabriel's death will not stay unresolved. One way or another, Carlos will be brought back to this plot, either through himself in search of a solution (maybe revenge?) or through some event that will end up leading him to solve the case.

I also know that the show is a procedural that doesn't work as deeply into the psychological aspect of the characters, but it would be nice to at least hear the mention of Carlos going to therapy to make peace with the way his and Gabriel's relationship turned out.

I also hope to see more of Andrea and how the two adjust to the new reality, I would like to see them support each other as we saw in the last chapter.

Anyway, sorry for the giant text, but these two scenes couldn't get out of my head and I'd like to talk about this parallel that tried to show that Gabriel was a better man than Carlos could have thought. Even if it hurts to think about the wasted potential of all the dialogues and situations that could happen.

And I will never forgive the show for not giving us an investigation where the two worked together, so Gabriel could get to know more of his son as well.

[despairforme]

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !!!!!

[ Time for a New Year’s post! This year --- WOW! It was packed with action for me. As someone who has lived a very monotone life it was very exciting! I moved into a house together with my s/o, and we have established a wonderful life together. Writing-wise, I had a real break-through. In 2021 there was definitely something off about my writing, but I feel like I left that behind and moved forward in 2022. I also expanded my writing horizon by beginning to write longer (personal) projects, which I enjoyed a lot! Wordcount wise, I wrote a tiny bit more in 2022 compared to 2021, but unfortunately I wrote less on Nnoitra. However! It’s not because I’ve felt uninspired. Quite the opposite! I’ve felt MORE inspired this year, and that’s been the best feeling! I’ve simply been too busy to write as much as I’ve wanted to. Settling into a new life takes time, but I feel like I’ve done that now.

AND THIS MAKES ME REALLY EXCITED FOR 2023!! Now that I have wonderful living conditions with my s/o, and I finally get to be independent (I lived with my parents up until this year) - I am ready to take a big step towards becoming a professional writer. Which brings me to -

PLANS AND GOALS FOR 2023!

Consistency is going to be a big goal for me this year. It’s going to be my focus. I’ve noticed that I simply write more and at a better quality when I write consistently. Whenever I take breaks ( which I’ve been forced a lot into in 2022 because I’ve been busy! ) my writing gets weird and it takes a bit for me to get “back into the groove”. So this year, like I did in 2020, I’m going to be writing on here every day. Regardless of how busy I am, or what’s happening, I’m going to make one IC post. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, but it’s going to be a tiny bit of writing. So that I don’t get out of the groove. Writing on Nnoitra is SO important for my creative flow. I need him. Every day. More stuff that I wanna do in 2023 =

WRITE MY BOOK! I’m not going to “try” to do it. I’m going to do it. It is a short novel, so it’s going to be about 60 000 words. The first draft is going to be finished by March 1st Second draft will be finished 31th March. Third draft will be finished 30th. The final mock-print will be printed by 24th of May. That’s my mother’s birthday and my goal is to be able to present her the book on her birthday. Then once she has read it and given me pointers, I will write another draft - which I will take to a publisher I know from when he was my writing-teacher ( he always said that once I finished a book I should take it straight to him bc he wants to help me get published ). I’m excited!

CONSISTENT POSTING! I’m going to be writing daily on Nnoitra, but my other blogs are also going to have more consistent activity. I’m going to make sure that they all get some activity every month. The past year there are several months where I’ve not posted anything on my other blogs ( especially my one piece blogs as well as Muramasa has suffered ). This year I’ll write at least a little bit on all of them every month. It’s good for my creative flow to have the ability to write multiple different voices.

FINISH A LONGER PERSONAL PROJECT! I’m currently writing a story about my Star Wars OC, as well as a story about my Hogwarts OCs. I’d love to finish one of these ( most likely my Star Wars story ). This isn’t something that’s going to be published, but I would really like to print the story in book-form. Holding one of my stories in my hand would be... Amazing. Not to mention I’m absolutely in love with the story and how it’s turning out. This is by no means going to take priority, but I’d love to keep working on it and finish it sometime during the year.

WRITE FANFICTION! I used to write a lot of fanfiction when I first started writing way back in the days, and honestly? I really miss it. I loved getting feedback and have people actually read my stories. It gives a different feeling compared to roleplaying, which is more interactive. I’d love to be able to work on “shorter” fanfictions, instead of huge ones which I’m currently writing ( I have been writing a Merlin fanfiction since 2018 and it’s still not done ). I’d love to write for many different fandoms, and get inspired by the feedback.

WRITE SPECIFIC SHIPS! This is related to my other blogs, as well as fanfiction. I’d really like to write Muramasa/Byakuya, Mayuri/Urahara and Shinji/Aizen this year, either on my blogs or simply write fanfiction for these ships.

MASSIVE WORD-COUNT GOALS! The time for being satisfied with 20 000 monthly words is over! I used to write more close to 50 000 words. This means I should be able to write more close to 600 000 words in a year, in contrast I only wrote just below 300 000 in 2022. My word-count goal for 2023 IS GOING TO BE 500 000.

TALK/CHAT MORE WITH MY FRIENDS AND MUTUALS! Being social is one of the things I’ve struggled with in 2022, and I know it’s not good for me when I don’t talk to people, so I’m going to chat more with you guys! I miss talking to you!

Now for some goals that are only related to Nnoitra and this blog! 

DAILY POSTING! As mentioned, I’ll go back to writing every day for him. This doesn’t include one-liners, but actual in character content. 

REBLOG MORE ART! I’ll get better at reblogging my friends’ artwork because I want to support them.

CREATE MORE AUS! I already have a ton - but I want more. You guys can look forward to: haikyuu!au, footballer!au, band!au, shinigami!au.

PLOTTING AND MORE INTERACTIONS! Yes, I absolutely need and want more interactions! Both with my current partners and new ones. I want to plot more pre-established relationships ( specifically in AUs as well as main verse ).

COMMISSIONING NNOITRA ART! I need more artwork of him, so I’m going to do at least one monthly commission of Nnoitra artwork! I used to do this, and I really miss having a commission to look forward to.

SEND MORE ASKS! After I began counting my sent asks vs received asks, I’ve come to realize that I’m incredibly fortunate to receive a lot of asks. I want to give back to the community that’s so kind to me, and send out at least as many as I receive!

WRITE SOME SHIP STUFF FOR NNOITRA! I really miss writing ship-stuff for Nnoitra. I have an idea for a ship-story for him, so I’d love to write that. It’s going to be set in an AU and also in fanfiction-format. I want to write some romance for him, but I don’t expect him to find a partner ( he is simply very hard to ship with, though we will keep our three eyes open for ships for him! ). I just want to have some happiness for him!

MAKE PROGRESS IN HIS MAIN VERSE! I want to continue his story! I’ve been writing his main verse for 8 years now, and so much as happened! I’m excited to see how the story continues, and who he meets this year. I hope he can make some personal development, and have a good year!

As you guys can see, I have big plans for 2023. I believe I’m finally going to have the creative year I’ve been dreaming of. Everything is aligning perfectly for me. I’m better at dealing with my chronic illness than I’ve ever been, I’m in such a great place mentally ( I am literally so happy all the time? ), I live in a beautiful place with the love of my life, I take good care of everyone around me. I feel inspired and creative. I truly wish everyone the best year! I hope you all can be happy and get to write as much as you want! HAPPY NEW YEAR LET’S HAVE A GREAT ONE !! ]

[13beachesxx]

starting to wonder whether i was neglected between the ages of 12-18 and had to parent myself through it. never thought it was possible since there was always somebody in the house, but none of those people took an active parent role in my life so...what did that leave? mom was gone for the majority of that time, dad was also gone. aunt was there but her day to day responsibilities towards me and my sister were making sure we got our dinner after school. we were left entirely to our own devices after that. i can't remember a single time anybody ever helped me with homework or schoolwork, sure i was always an independent creature when it came to that stuff and maybe if offered, i would have turned it down, but nobody was even checking or keeping track of a single thing i was doing. the only time i remember mom & dad joint parenting was when i got suspended for that card thing when i was 9/10, and then they were gone again. maybe in the same way that her projects are her distractions now, she sought other countries and programs and studies as a means of escape from here, which is not really impossible to imagine given everything that was happening in our home and the kinds of toxicity people unleashed on each other. but why didn't they take us with? why didn't me and my sister get the luxury of also moving to france, to los angeles, while she studied and worked and found herself? it hardly seems fair in retrospect, not for the nice luxury life that would have afforded but for the escape from the crazy abusive person it would have afforded. maybe i wouldn't have taken on so much damage if they had done that. maybe i wouldn't have sunk into the depths of anorexia and all the other darkness. maybe, maybe. it's all speculation and What If's but i'm realizing a lot of major things in this moment.

it feels crazy to say i was neglected because i felt the opposite of that, but maybe i'm only thinking of material issues where i was clothed and fed and in that sense, i never had to worry. but anything above that, emotional and developmental issues, i guess, i was on my own. i figured it all out on my own. i always used to be surprised myself at my independent streak, going off to live alone at 15 in a different country for a summer and not suffering in the slightest for it, not missing home or family. quite the opposite, i felt like i was thriving. maybe that's because i've always been parenting and looking after myself since i could remember, or at least since the age of 7/8 when we left moscow and that close, real family unit i had felt so solidly for a couple of years instantly dissolved. when we were in moscow we were a family unit, the four of us, and even that is crystallized in my mind as the Best Part. whenever anyone else got added into the mix, shit started going sideways. i do believe my parents would've grown apart regardless of all the outside insanity and forces pushing on them, but maybe they would've lasted longer together. maybe even up to my graduation. we could never be a solid unit in that home where She resided, and it's crazy i'm realizing this now and none of the adults could back then. They should've seen the problem clear as day and then moved us out. i would have rather lived in a smaller apartment and do with less than have to share with her (and grandma, love you grandma but you too were perpetuating that bs).

it's taken this video to make me realize all of this, but wow, way too many of these apply to me and even that too is somehow me bearing witness to myself that i did, indeed, experience childhood trauma. even now i'm so reticent to call it that because some Part inside of me is like "you ungateful shit, what about X and Y, and Z". as if abusive dynamics can't exist in families that are well off, in children that are spoiled, that have their every whim fulfilled and then some. as if abuse can't happen to any person in any home regardless of these circumstances and you have to have lived some kind of Tiny Tim upbringing in a house like the Cratchits to have Really Been Neglected.

none of my friends grew up like this, we all had some level of privilege or wealth that afforded us, in the first place, the education it did, and everything else after. But every other person who was in my friend circle did fine, and did not suffer the way I did because their family was not toxic and twisted at its core. maybe A*****'s, but her toxic mother was out of the picture long before she moved here and her dad had seemingly taken on two of his stepchildren with a kind of love and care that would otherwise not be seen in someone not biologically related to their kids. though irony of ironies, that applied to me too. Ana's parents up and left for italy and she too, i'm sure, felt a hole inside and a great neglect because I remember her tears, missing her mother, the diary entries, all of that. In a way we were similar in that regard, except I don't ever remember crying because I missed my mother. Pretty sure i was already shut down and emotionless by then and feeling nothing about it all. it was just the way things were, and i did not mind. maybe everyone just dealt with their shit and stiff upper lipped it, and i'm the big baby who couldn't handle it all. it's either that or what happened to me was Much Worse than what happened to my friends or even to my sister, it can't be any other thing. and i can't work out which it was, as if it even makes a difference, because the damage was done and my body went into dissociation mode and my mind left its home and neither quite fully returned for a good 12 years. i'm still working to put myself back in my body and mind fully, even now. which is crazy. maybe by 40 i'll have gotten there. i hope so. i need to learn to be present once and for all and to do it before i die. it's not my fault in fight or flight mode i took permanent flight, bu it sure is my responsibility and even duty now to restore myself back in order. i'm tired of feeling incapable of doing things and want to feel capable of everything instead.

[edge-oftheworld]

we started in this little town, or maybe it was my parents’ house. maybe it was a school. either way we knew we needed to leave, move away from the predictability and the controlled routine. we daydreamed about getting away. getting away together, or making it out but leaving our loved ones behind. we were conflicted even then.

the black and white town became our muse, this town that never existed but was a place to us, an experience of an area that was caught up in our perceptions, a shared headspace we didn’t understand back then when the outskirts of a messy megacity down under didn’t meet our needs and we had no words to explain why. just a restlessness for something more. for the high of meeting people out of our league and wearing name brands we’d never been able to afford before. it’s easy to promote body positivity when you’re doing it in American Apparel underwear and not hand me downs from Best and Less. we were loved and we were wanted and it felt like a fever dream but it felt like being alive for the first time ever. and who were we to complain? we’d achieved more than we ever dreamed of.

but the self doubt crept in, and the other side of the optimism of ‘she’s just a little bit older, but I want to get to know her’ was the memories of ‘she’s 17, I told her I’m 20, I can’t take her out cause Mum’s got no money’ and ‘I’m not being me’ but how can I when I never got to learn who that is? when I stepped into this role, the role of a lifetime, but being a star doesn’t negate the times my teacher told me I’m mentally disabled, so unstable, so I stayed in bed all day. but at least I’m not alone. just like we did back then, we told each other it’s going to be okay. we repeated it again and again and maybe we believed it sometimes, or maybe it lost its meaning and instead became another piece of confusion because we had everything, why wouldn’t it be okay? we did something about it. we called it the new broken scene. the album was finished in 8 weeks.

desperation came from many different angles. when we used to long for freedom and opportunity we now long for rest. it’s still longing for freedom. it’s still the same escapism but don’t you remember? we’re young. we’ve gotta stay optimistic. it’ll be okay. we told the rest of the world that. we look back on the encouragement we got then when it reached its audience and we got to share in the feeling with them and in giving them hope, we got to cultivate a little coming back. it was a lifeline, but people don’t like lifelines when they’re a reminder people need them. a reminder things get hard and messy and this is the era of bubblegum pop, we don’t acknowledge that around here. try to step away from that, away from the pressures to stay innocent and untainted and be your perfect fantasy and suddenly we’re the assholes. but maybe we are, maybe we have been all along.

we’re tired and looking for something bigger that’s going to give us the edge. restless for change like we always are. we’ve seen suffering now, we thought we knew it before, but we definitely do now and it’s terrifying. we hold onto each other a little tighter as a result. could we take this emotion and turn it into song? could we sanitise it, with a badboy party lens, that same desperation and angst and the tiredness that tips right into a self destructive overenergetic party vibe like a toddler kept up past its bedtime, if household toys were replaced with cigarettes and alcohol. the sugar coated pain. turning triple time into four. we turn heartbreak into a phenomenal live show. we make it. we’ve found our feet. we’re tired. too tired to know what calm means.

so that’s what we name our album, as we collaborate with the biggest and the best. self deprecation kicks in in different ways, and hopefully it doesn’t drive us apart. our homeland is burning down when we’re so far away. if we fly in a plane to sing at a show and raise money for its relief, are we part of the problem that caused it? tired of travel. just want to go home. which one? tired of trying, of doing everything they say will make us feel better without taking away our authenticity and creativity. maybe something needs to give. it’s tiring seeing your loved ones suffer. and so the angst makes its way out in industrial beats. prime targets for an orchestral or acoustic rearrangement. we do neither. a kaleidoscope of too many bright lights made us colourblind. it’s there, collectively, in our minds—which mirrored section is the fragment of a life that’s real?

we’ve all got stories to tell, and maybe some time apart will help us access them. time with loved ones. new friends. turns out we do want to hang out together without the distractions of the big names and bright lights. there are things no one shares yet until they’re ready, supported by a whole body of work. we know better than to ask questions. we know that the public will. we’ve done this dance before, figuring out how much we want to share. even when we do it alone, we still come back to each other.

we’ve gotten help now, and that has to be one of the best feelings when we see evidence of that in each other. pride and love and a calmness we finally found in the familiarity of it all mixed with the growth we all feel so honoured to witness. growth that reminds us of those times we told ourselves it would all be okay. this is one of the most uncertain times of history but maybe we’re watching our own prophecy come true. sorry for being self destructive, I’ll take better care of you now. care of me. we get nostalgic and we wonder if the world is going to change. if we made the right choice. as we grow older and move forward in our lives, sacrificing so many things, but we still have each other. and pop punk. maybe we can make a song about that

then we’re touring again and it hits different when you thought it might be something you’d never get back. there’s activism to be done until it becomes too much, when you’re a bit more self aware instead of pushing things away to later it becomes too much a little more often these days. or too little, either way, we can process that a little better now. step aside and make art, or do it in the meantime, switching between confidence and vulnerability like maybe they weren’t such opposite things to begin with. maybe motivation and grief can come together. maybe we’re getting older and we’re so scared of the world now but we always were, except when we didn’t know how to look after ourselves we were scared of staying put even more. maybe it’s okay to grab hold of that tension and make the most of it. maybe life is just a series of doing things while scared or sad and finding the good parts in it anyway. really living.

we’ve found our place a little more now, and yet we’re constantly fitting together in new ways. we each have our own boundaries in how to interact with people and we compliment each other on that now, our strengths falling into where each other might be lacking. and that’s okay, we can embrace it. but still be pretty self deprecating. maybe things will be different now. maybe we’re healing. or maybe we’re just surviving and trying not to get too repeatedly traumatised, that’s valid too. maybe our big dreams were just the longing for something deeper, for connection and validation and self expression and the freedom from the monotony and weight of their expectations made for some idealised person none of us were capable of being. and one day, eventually, we’ll probably write a song about that.

[determinandum]

would you be okay doing a natal chart reading of mine? Here are my placements. Hope this is a fine format to do it in. Let me know if you need anymore deets. Thanks! (Bottom part is part of fortune in 5th house)

Hey there!

Very much ok to ask, and also I love your icon (Beau is so cute!)

Let's see what we're working with:

8th house Sun is like consciousness working in the background. It's like getting energized by uncovering things that are lesser known or bringing clarify to topics. You're probably madly good at focusing on something when you want to be, and when it can be self-defining. That said, the 8th house still has that transformative part, so your ego and sense of self might evolve in time as you experience life. Your inner child might have to suffer a bit more depth when young, only so you can resurrect the things that bring you more energy later in life. Either way, you may end up very different then where you started, as you get older. Tapping into hobbies and play and creativity can help you heal more than most, and whether it's with people or passion projects, you're likely going to be more thorough and want to understand the things you like intimately. How this will play out exactly can be seen more in the signs.

That said, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn are all in the 8th. So delving into things is how you learn, but also how you overcome. Issues to do with shared values and taking on psychologically the values of others can be a theme, such as a parent (either a father figure prominently or a mother figure taking on this role) could have tried to instill such strong values that it's hard to disengage and escape them. You're likely going to be pulled towards both structures and unstructured thinking with Jupiter and Saturn in the mix. You're a doer too, and possibly need to be moving your life in one direction or another and may not be content with that direction being small,but rather pursuing mastery. I would warn against burnout because the chance to take the extremism of the 8th house and then Saturn's durability and then Sun and Mars's will and expand that by Jupiter? You could work yourself to hell if you really loved something or you wanted to get something ardently. So while I don't think moderation is the solution, learning to use your regenerative powers and using perspective and planning activity when necessary may fatigue your soul out less.

With this mix, it's likely you want to master some occult topic, but this will depend on the sign all the planets are in. If it's earth, water or Sagittarius, this heavily applies. If it's air or Aries/Leo,you may be drawn to the arts or some form of management. You have a lot of resilience, and the sign of the 8th will show how you use that resilience, and how exactly you can work best to build it up.

Moon in twelfth is a treat if it trines the 8th placements. It's not unusual for you to find your comfort in your vision. This can be the cliche of an overactive imagination but it can also be psychic gifts in the area. The home is somewhere that dissolves, but that can be transcended. You may either have a loving or a very lonely early home. Either way it makes you more sensitive to environment, and very sensitive to the world's needs. You can take a lot in, and music and art will help you feel more secure. It's a bit of a rollercoaster having a moon in 12th, but it will also allow you to accept fully whichever sign falls in it as well as have a broader compassion capacity in general.

Venus and Mercury in 7th is a bit funny to me because you sound sweeter than your strong heart. While all that Martial 8th house powerhouse of a thing is trudging on, these two placements will help you reach a social balance, because you'll likely choose words that are balanced and ideas that harmonize well, and may find that at least mentally pursuing moderation in some aspects suits you well. A bit of a socialite and a lover of the arts placement, you'll have to choose at times between breaking the mold and people's expectations vs. keeping the peace. Ideally there will be times when both can be integrated.

The people who spend more time with you one on one will find out that they have a good friend and someone of amiable mind to rely on in you, and it's likely have a lot of affection for friends and people you interact with on a daily basis if these two are conjunct. You may however get bored easy unless Venus is in a fixed sign or cardinal earth/water and require variety and intellectual stimulation. Here art isn't so great if it's not balanced with good ideas and good ideas aren't so great if they're not expertly exposed so you likely strive for a bit of both. You may overgive or overdevote at times if you trust people, especially if Venus is in water/earth. Your capacity to learn will probably improve if you represent concepts manually or through some artistic form or by association with things you like.If Venus and Mercury are conjunct, some good poets I know have that, and musicians :) .

Uranus and Neptune in 5th if conjunct or same sign are likely a good indicator of ability to feel into how people's egos are moved by social change and who we become. You can look at the world and see it as an amalgam of souls having their Hero's journey. You can also aggrandize your self image in a spiritual sense, and here the mystic archetype becomes sort of ideal, and the want to embody a sort of otherwordliness comes strong. A lot of the 90s general brought on this aesthetic shift as you know :) with self expression being way more otherworldy looking than it was years ago. Many had Uranus and Neptune nearby. It would depend which sign or signs this is in, to see what you idealize or dream of, and where you can bring something original. The conjunction itself rather tells you can have genuine insight into the soul that will need some channel to actualize. And it's also a generational indicator of our relationship with the affect of technological improvement and social movement on the whole, where Neptune is more perceptive of changes and integrates them more subtly into your self-identity as well in the 5th.

Pluto and Chiron in the 3rd are sort of....firstly fun because Pluto rules all your 8th House,so all of that intensity goes back to...knowing for you. Uncovering truths, a detective's mind, a relationship to duality and lie vs truth that will be very impactful to you. With Chiron perhaps you yourself will have difficult lessons you always carry stemming from psychology or certain patterns of thinking. Obsessing over things is possible here, but so is transcendental healing truth. Depending on the sign's element, this will tell if the truths you can uncover and information you can revolutionize is philosophical or visionary (fire), socially uplifting and Logos-like (air), mystically subtle (water) or fundamentally progressive (earth).

Lilith and SN in 4th versus NN in 10th do make me think you may carry some sort of a wounded conscience in the chart regarding how you're treated. Difficult experiences may occur and here you can metabolize them and use them for growth or they may pull you back. Your soul's body of experience, or previous lifetimes if you will in that interpretation of the South Node, might have to do with self-reflection. You already likely have a keen insight, a way with intuition and are naturally fairly more easily in tune with your environment than others . What is needed or desired in order to progress even further now would be,with NN in the 10th, creating your own internal order leading to external discipline so that you can build a legacy out of your life and knowing. Since the 10th house is about time, NN here is about learning to build things in time or within your lifetime. If the 8th house supports this, you're set to be quite on the uptake in life, since you have a lot of drive.

Part of fortune I consider to be a place to draw luck or have Fortune's blessing. If it conjuncts Uranus/Neptune is could mean divine insight but depends on the sign. Either way in the 5th it means what benefits from the luck is you and your ability to self express, or that by self-expressing the traits of your planets here, and being warm and engaging, you may see more opportunity open up.

That's what I see:) Signs would have helped too but I hope this sheds some extra perspective.

Thank you!

[biblicallyaccuratepigeons]

Longpost that summarizes an old rant I saved a while back.

[context: i was watching a yt video released last June about pride and the issues with it (particularly that year) and had been thinking lately about the US school system. the following is an edited version of the comment i typed out, decided not to post because it was too long, and saved on a document to collect dust]

I think, if someone gets their personal validation from a tshirt or a series of colors, there must be some issue there other than "that the person isn't the same as everyone else."

An issue that I see a lot in the queer community, at least the younger part of it in (particularly northern) America, is that they're so busy putting on a show and "living their truth" that they've forgotten what it means to have to truly suffer for that truth (i.e. the mother crying in public and online because people moved the location of what she considered was her child's gender identity, which was most likely impermanent anyway, when just decades ago, and even still today, American children were sorely beaten and/or thrown out of the house for being queer in any way; just decades ago, the word "queer" was a hateful slur, and still today, there are people who are genuinely afraid of me just for being subtly queer). I think both wings, left and right, are keeping us like babies, doing everything they can to divert our attention from real issues, and keep us from maturing enough to see how wrong they are regarding these issues--and desperate people who don't know where else to turn, or how, are eating it up like the slop it is.

My thoughts always return to the US education system, and how much the media is allowed to overcome what little we're taught in the way of critical thinking and ethics. We're stuffed into a place we don't want to be, with adults who think it's their jobs to parent us however they like, teaching us things that don’t fit into a long enough timeframe or in ways that aren't flexible enough for everyone to learn, until either our 13 years are up or we quit. We're assured that we'll make nothing of our lives if we don't finish, and then when we do we're assured the same if we don't fork over thousands of dollars for some piece of paper no one looks at anyway and 2+ years of wasted time.

In what could possibly turn out to be 21 years of our lives (if we don't fail a year or two), we learn very little about actual life skills and critical, abstract thinking--unless we're already "gifted" enough to already be thinking critically and abstractly anyways. Those of us who have already figured that out then get bogged down with work, burn out early, and hate ourselves for an undetermined amount of time while our "less intelligent" friends (whom we know to be wonderful and equal) go to college, get married, have kids, and build careers. We know we could be better; it's what we've been told all our lives. That whispering shadow follows us around, saying things like, "It should've been you," "Why aren't you like that?" and "You're such a failure."

And for the kids who don't figure it out, well fuck them I guess, it just means more sheep who will follow every sentimental word the media says. Why bother teaching people who don't care to learn, even though the reason they don't care is because the adults didn't first? Conflict is good actually, division is good actually, arguing is good actually, war is good actually. Why? Because, uh, wait, nope, we're only allowed to teach that reason to the Gifted kids. Shoulda studied harder! Have some food stamps.

I know a lot of right-wing bigots compare the lives we live with the ones presented in George Orwell's book, 1984. That's why I always encourage people to read it for themselves. These guys might be overexaggerating some things, but, like everyone involved in this whole debate about what we're going to do next, they have a point. The manner in which the government is raising our children, the way kids often hate their loving parents for no reason other than "it's what I'm supposed to be doing at this age," or "because it's cool." Our hearts being directed by outside forces towards the wrong things, like patriotism or cheap Pride merch. The many who don't know better. The few who do being too exhausted or busied to do anything real about it.

The worst part for me is knowing that no matter how much I think about it, no matter how much I talk about it, I can't put a dent in the zeitgeist. And thinking and talking is all that I, a cherished Gifted kid, ever learned how to do, so what now? All the work ethic, all the valuing of human life and rights, mean nothing if I can’t do anything.

They teach the Gifted how to think, and the "normal" people learn how to do things on their own because they have no choice. 

If only I’d been born into an abusive home, I catch myself thinking. If only I’d never known how smart I am. Then, maybe, I would be able to do something. Maybe I’d have been able to make myself move on my own, proactively instead of reactively. Maybe I’d’ve taught myself taxes, and how to stay at a sucky job. Maybe I’d’ve proactively used a knife instead of my fingernails. Maybe I’d’ve stabbed instead of slashed. Maybe I’d’ve done heroin. Maybe I’d’ve walked into traffic. Maybe I’d’ve tied myself to a bag of heavy rocks and jumped into the river, to finally feel that cool, delicious, watery peace. Maybe I’d have a knife kink instead of a rope one. Blood instead of burn. Death instead of imprisonment. Yandere instead of tsundere. Hate instead of lust.

And I would be no better off than the normal kids.

[hvneybxns]

(—) ★ spotted!! MALLORY WELLS on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 30 year old looks like GRETA ONIEOGOU but i don’t really see it. while the ACTRESS is known for being PERSONABLE my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be NAIVE i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song EVERY KIND OF WAY BY H.E.R { she/her - cisfemale}

mallory was famous before she even really knew what the word meant. her mother was an a-list actress who was a little too good at ruining marriages and mallory was a product of that. her mother may have been out of the running for roles for a while when her kids were born but mallory was a house hold name already and when she was cast as the baby of the full house clan her life course was forever cemented.

mallory grew for the first eight years of her life knowing nothing other than filming and the spot light, interviews as young as four, she was the shinning apple of her mothers eye, her ticket to staying in hollywood and it didn’t matter if mallory wanted to play. she would work. mallory played her part and took on the role of doting daughter until her father realised just who she was when mallory was turning 11 having just wrapped up two home alone films. declaring that she needed time to be a kid her dad put a ban on mallory appearing in anything for the next 6 years, at least until she had finished her high school education. he was important enough to make it happen too and moving in with her dad at 11 gave mallory the breather she so desperately needed.

at 17, a year ahead of where she should have been thanks to private tutoring mallory asked her dad if she was allowed to go back to work, her mom wasn’t around much, back to working her own sorrows away and he was still busy being a star himself. she wanted to work too. she’d been allowed to grow up and it was her choice now. with her fathers grace she began to audition again quickly landing herself a role and she felt like it was a breath of fresh air again. it took her a while but she began to land the bigger gigs, the jobs with people like jackson blackwell that was enough to make her blush.

in 2013, the course of her acting really took a turn when she was first nominated for her first oscar and she knew, without a doubt that stepping back into the lime light was right for her. for five more years she worked, building a reputation of her own, her name separated from her mothers and her fathers alike, her relationship with both of her parents still there, just different and a little less reliant.

the real turning point in her life though, happened in 2018. she should have realised he would be no good for her, he was older, he was directing the film she was shooting, he would keep her up, after filming drinks lasting hours as he told her all about his messy divorce, his wives wrong doings, he sold her the sun and painted her as the moon, the only thing keeping him going. two weeks after they had finished filming, she called him to say that she was pregnant and he told her that he would destroy her career if she ever told anyone whom her unborn child belonged too. with that, mallory decided she would do it alone, she had her family, she had felicity and jackson, she didn’t need him and 7 months later she gave birth to her beautiful baby hadley at the start of 2019.

it took her some convincing but she returned to the world reprising her role in charlies angles and found she was no less of a bad ass as a mother as she was before. even the whispers and the wondering was nothing that she hadn’t dealt with before. besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t get to watch hadleys father suffered when jackson figured out who had left her in the situation she was in, her ex had connections but it turned out her bestfriend had more.

now she’s a bad ass single momma who continues to take hollywood by storm. you’ll find her at womens rights protests, civil rights movements and anything that makes her feel like she’s kicking ass and showing her daughter what it means to be a woman.

[fangirling-throughlife]

Wages, the economy, and mental health.

I'm almost turning 25. My family went through a shitty thing a few years ago that left me without an economic fallback that could have supported me for a year or two comfortably, so I didn't live in a dorm when I moved abroad 3 years ago, so I didn't really socialize, and I started working at the first company that gave me an offer over a year ago, before I'd even graduated. I have a salary low enough that I pay less taxes. I'm moving to a co-housing this week with 4 strangers because it is impossible to rent something by myself, and I'm looking for cheap stuff to add the few touches the room doesn't include that would make that 24 m2 feel a bit more like myself. I studied for 6 years, have worked full-time for 14 months now, barely had a social life because I would have had to commute a lot to just go out, and I have to be so extremely mindful of expenses that I can't relax. I'm even considering adding a side job to have some spare money to save some (I just think that we shouldn't work just to pay the bills, we should strive to save money and be able to go out or go on trips without having to recalibrate our budget for the rest of the year). 75% of the "new" clothes I have from the last few years are hand-me-downs. I wanted to go on a trip (to my parents', how extravagant!) to celebrate my 25th birthday next week, and besides the fact that there's a team leaders event and that I'm my boss' backup for a deadline, I couldn't go anyway because it would cost easily 400€ just to fly there.

The thing is, my parents spent my whole summer holiday saying that, for my mental health, I should quit my job and move back to Spain and do something I really love. I don't hate my job, but it's not as rewarding as something you devote 40 hours a week to should be. Now, my mum said that before I do that, I should consider salaries, because if I move to earn a minimum salary, it's not that good of a deal, because I'll be suffering economically no matter what. In the past 14 months, that's the one thing that stopped me from quitting: knowing that I at least have a job. It doesn't pay great, but a lot of people my age don't have a job at all. And realizing that in this economy, it's unfair of me to ask my parents to support me for however long it'd take to get back up on my feet if I quit (plus the moving and stuff), even though I know that they would gladly do it to stop watching me break down from a distance, I just stay put, clench my jaw and go through the soul-killing routine once again.