I am at a hopeless rock bottom right now and it isn't making any sense to anyone, so I am going to try here. It is going to be a long one, so please bare with me.
I grew up in a family where love was limited and conditional, for myself and between my parents. I had watched my parents beg each other for the minimal respect, change, and genuine love. I had too begged for those things from them, in which I eventually developed this disorder.
I have struggled with the obsession of love/true love/soulmates my entire life. I have had countless favorite people, in which I would have given ANYTHING to be reciprocated the kind of love I was willing to give.
And in all of these endeavors, I acknowledged I do not love correctly. I realized this when I got out of my first relationship when I was 18. I have dedicated the last few years to unlearning these things. I still struggle with the want to control, the games I want to play, the general pull and push. I have been trying.
I have acknowledged that what I envisioned love in my head is wrong. Love isn't the constant fight for reassurance or the constant proving myself as worthy. It isn't the begging, fighting, or the challenge.
I have told myself for years, love is in the little things. Love is learning a song on the guitar cause they would love it, memorizing their order so you can surprise them, or bringing a jacket cause you know they would forget one. Love is the small laughs over inside jokes, the loud laughs over little fails, and the shared memories that were created on accident.
Love was supposed to be in the little things.
But over the last few months, I have been shown a dark side of it.
I was on a work trip.
One of my supervisors gave long speeches at dinner about his fiancé and how their wedding in June is going to be the best day of his life. That same night, we went out for a few drinks. He proceeded to send a few other girls and I messages about "spending the night with him." He went on the next day like it was a usual occurrence for him.
I was utterly disgusted. My gut sat in my stomach for days.
Another one of my supervisors on this trip did something some what similar. He is "happily" married to his wife of 17 years with young daughters. But as happy as this man is at home, he hit on every waitress, took up countless numbers, and would disappear for days at a time.
Again I was disgusted. I could've easily said this was the work of nasty people, but it got worse...
Once again, on this trip... one of my dear friends/coworker spoke about his plans to propose to his 5 year girlfriend. We were all beyond happy for him. But within the night, he made a closer relationship with another one of our close friends. He started confiding in her of his doubts, how he is not happy, and he doesn't know what else to do, but marry her anyway. He then dedicated the rest of this two week long work trip to his new found interest in his friend. He gave her a sweet little nick name, held her hand, and walked her to and from everywhere they went.
I was very dumbfounded by this information. I was under the impression that they were happy at home and that they had found something people prayed for, but I was wrong.
When I returned home, I received some also unsettling news.
One of my best friends found out she was pregnant by her boyfriend (who is a very very close friend of mine as well). I have known her boyfriend and his family for 10 years, they have been incredible and wonderful people to me and everyone I know. So for the last 7 months, I have watched them prepare for this baby. They are building a house together along with a life and family. She was so excited. But as of last week, she informed me of him entertaining random women online. She said he described it as a thing that didn't happen before and he did not know who she was.
But Saturday, her and I sat down and talked a lot about it. Turns out, he lied again. He had been seeing these women their ENTIRE relationship. They are having a baby and he is out there with "random women" who he has been seeing for years.
I thought I knew him better, but I am incredibly disappointed. This particular event has triggered me beyond belief. I had watched them do my healthier version of love for a long time, only to find out it was one sided.
I began to look at all the long term relationships that have been shown to me in my life. My parents, never have been happy. My aunt and uncle who have been together since they were 14, have one conversation a day about the coffee machine. My friends from high school, who went literal years of break ups and cheating to now hitting 6 years. My friends parents, who have cheated divorced and remarried several times. My other friends parents, who have been on the verge of divorce over small things several times. And now all of these...
I struggle with what is real and what is not. I struggle with trust, intimacy, and connection. But I have been trying to get better with the hope that one day I can be good to someone and they be good to me. I have never cared about money, a nice car, nor a large house. I want to love and be loved and raise a happy family in the healthiest way I can. All in the hopes that i can experience love in the little things, like how I imagined real love to look.
Now I don't know what love looks like. All of my ideas have been disproven. My dreams have been crushed. I am fighting the urge to recluse and regress in all of my efforts in vulnerability, but I am distraught.
I feel like love romantic love is not real anymore.
I am honestly taking this more towards men than women, because of my sexual orientation and just from personal trauma, but I know that I am not supposed to do that.
I am turning away from a connection I have been trying hard to sustain and be healthy in, all because I am triggered by the actions of other men, my fears, and my new found hopelessness in love.
And everyone I talk to says this quote I have heard a million times, "I know love exists because of the love I give." I understand that love is real, logically, but i want to experience it. I want to know what it feels like to love and be loved, equally and truly.
But is the pain and dishonesty truly worth it? Is it something I would have to put up with to experience long term?
How do I even begin to when given this example of modern day "commitment."
What do I do? Before I ruin the connection I am building. How do I let go of the fear of being hurt so I can learn to love?

I got my gallbladder removed in September 2022, I had complications (bile leak, sepsis, acute pancreatitis after ERCP that's now chronic, gastroparesis, almost liver and kidney failure).
Now, I have pain in my sternum since october 2023 and reflux it's not stomach acid (I'm still on pantoprazol tho) but non-acid-relux aka. bile. Idk how it's treated, my voice gets hoarse, pain in sternum, my esophagus is bloated or slightly burning and my stomach feels warm.
How can I treat it?

I wrote a letter to remind myself to be kinder to oneself as surely this feeling will pass.. right?
Strangers by Correspondence
Neither friends nor strangers, we acquainted ourselves with one another, sharing desires for love that the other dismisses. Tormenting ourselves, we pity our own feelings, attributing the pain to our own making. In the liminal space, she existed before we truly knew her, her upbringing leaving wounds we thought we could heal. All this time, we believed our wait for something more would only lead to inevitable disappointment. The only one to blame is the fool in the mirror; so wipe away the paint and ask yourself: What are you? A kid pretending to be an adult, thinking you can handle it all.
Understandably, we longed for companionship, seeking the kind of relationship we saw in our friends. "When will it be my turn?" we asked, never considering that loneliness would creep up on us, slowly killing us inside. Desperation consumed us during those times, leaving no doubt in our minds.
Then came the day we approached her in class—frightened, confused, and terrified. We didn't know anyone, nor did we want to know anyone. But there she was, an angel—or her name was angel, as her ID said so, sat next to her and a nickname was introduced her otherwise true name —sweet and kind. Yet, it wasn't her looks that drew us in; rather, it was her perseverance and gleeful attitude.
As we saw her more and more, she grew more beautiful with each passing day. Butterflies runs around in our stomachs as we wrote these words, a testament to our delusions. We never intended to pursue someone so intensely, but in our worst moment, we blurted out our feelings in a burst of false confidence a drunken text.
We may have felt like idiots at the time, but we don't regret it. It was the first step towards regaining our confidence. Flattered she was, and hopeful we were. But fate had other plans.
In the end, we still hold on to hope, embodying the essence of the hopeless romantic. She may never see us the way we see her, but we still check up on her, because deep down, we care for her. For what's it worth we formed a bond. Created a safe space between us. We were never friends, nor were we strangers—just acquaintances, bound by fleeting moments of connection.

“Ready to make history, baby?”
I looked over toward Sheila as she stood on the gangplank leading up to The Burger. I still couldn’t believe she named our research ship ‘The Burger’... emotional relevance be damned.
“It's not exactly history,” I corrected.
“Oh come on! If your survey is right, this trench might run even deeper than the Challenger Deep, and you’re gonna be the first person to explore it! How is that not exciting?”
“Might be deeper, we only have a limited amount of topological data. And even if it is deeper, we’re talking only a few hundred feet at most, it’s really not that im-”
Sheila silenced me with a kiss.
“Nerd.” She teased, and I found myself too flustered to reply. After five years of marriage, she still could leave me speechless with just a kiss. God… how did someone like me end up with a woman like that?
Then again, how did someone like me end up where I was in general? It was honestly a little overwhelming. Standing on the dock, getting ready to board that ship and join the ranks of Jacques Piccard and James Cameron (yes, that James Cameron) as one of the few people to take a manned submersible down to the deepest parts of the ocean. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared too. Diving down that deep could easily be a one way trip if even the slightest thing went wrong. My submarine would be experiencing between 600 to 1100 atmospheres of pressure and while we’d tested it over and over again to make sure it would actually be up for the challenge, there was still a lingering iota of doubt in the back of my mind. All that needed to go wrong was one little thing, and that would be it for me.
The scariest part is that I probably wouldn’t even know what had happened… I’d simply be gone… and Sheila would be alone. The thought of that caused a momentary spike of panic in my chest that almost made me want to call this whole thing off.
Almost.
But, then I felt her hand close around mine. I looked up into her bright blue eyes, and saw her gentle smile.
“You’re gonna be okay, hun,” She promised. “You and your team have been running the numbers, right? It’s gonna go just fine!”
I nodded slowly.
“It’s gonna go fine…” I repeated, before she leaned in to kiss me, and gently pulled me by the wrist up onto the deck of the Burger.
She was probably right.
It probably would be fine.
Probably…
The trench I’d be exploring was a fairly recent discovery, located south of Greenland, in a vast stretch of water situated directly between Newfoundland and Iceland. It’d been uncovered during a topological survey in the area, and my team had taken an interest in investigating it further. At minimum, it was believed to descend to about 35,000 feet deep (over 10,000 meters), although the current theory was that it might have run even deeper. Determining the exact depth of the yet unnamed chasm was just one of the intents of our dive. The rest was studying the organisms that might be found down there, and how they might have differed from the ones found in other deep ocean trenches (some variation being expected given the isolated environment they were developing in.)
I had to admit, it would be exciting to see what new life might have developed in a place such as this, especially if it ran even deeper than our predictions… and that excitement was enough to make me chase the fear of the risks out of my mind, even if it was only briefly. While Sheila went to make sure we were ready to embark, I caught myself wandering out toward the rear of the ship where my submarine, The Tempura, waited for me. Did this submarine deserve a better name than The Tempura? Probably. But, this was my project, so I got to name it and since Burger was already taken, Tempura was the next best name I had. I liked to think that the subs namesake might approve… if she hadn’t died fifteen years ago. Shrimp don’t live very long.
As the ship began to depart, I caught myself reminiscing on how I’d ended up here… it really was all because of those damn shrimp, wasn’t it? Well… maybe not all because of the shrimp. But they were certainly part of it. Back when I was a lot younger, I never really gave much of a shit about anything at all. I guess I did have a thing for the ocean… the great, romantic vastness of it. The sense of adventure that it beckoned with. The endless mysteries that lay within its dark depths. I used to read about it all the time when I was a kid and I especially loved the classic adventures: Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, and Melville’s Moby Dick… but that love was just confined to my books. I didn’t really have any interest in actually going out and seeing the ocean. Hell, the idea of going to a beach and standing in the sun with my toes in the sand seemed miserable to me. I was happier (although calling myself happy might’ve been a little disingenuous) alone in my room, enjoying the company of books as opposed to people.
Then came the shrimp.
One of my online friends kept them as a hobby. He used to post pictures of his tanks all the time, and I always thought they looked kinda cool. He said that if I was interested in them, I should try keeping some for myself, and during a particularly bad bout of depression, I figured that maybe it might be worth a shot. So, I bought a cheap tank and some cheap decorations, bought myself some shrimp… and promptly watched them die over the next few weeks. That… that bothered me. I don’t know why but… it really bothered me. I’m still not entirely sure how to describe what it was that I was feeling. Guilt? Defeat? Shame? Here I was, trying to set up a habitat for these creatures just to have something to do to keep the suicidal ideation at bay, and I’d failed almost right out of the gate.
Was I just that bad? Was I just that much of a failure? Was this just going to go to shit just like everything else in my life did, because I was just such an abysmal piece of shit who barely deserved the life she had? Had I just not tried hard enough? Was I too apathetic? What had happened? What went wrong?
It bothered me.
It bothered me enough that I made up my mind to just dump the remaining shrimp down the toilet and toss everything. Forget about it. Move on. End of story. But… that wasn’t fair, was it? The shrimp didn’t all deserve to die just because I couldn’t be bothered, did they? Sure, they were just shrimp, but they were alive too, just like me. They deserved to be alive.
I owed it to them to try and keep them alive, didn’t I?
So… I didn’t dump the shrimp.
Instead, I started doing some reading. Started looking into what I was doing wrong and how to do it all better. I actually got really into it and a few months later, I had a nice planted tank. Looking back, it was amateur shit… but it made me happy. I’d even picked out names for my two favorite shrimp. Burger and Tempura. They’d been the last survivors of my original batch, and they were the ones I ended up caring about the most. Caring for Burger and Tempura gave me a purpose. It became an obsession… and that little obsession drove me to finally start turning my life around.
Like I said, shrimp don’t live for very long. Burger and Tempura were long dead by the time I graduated with a degree in Marine Biology. But they were the ones who inspired me to finally get my life in order. Hell, the shrimp were half the reason that I met Sheila. She was something of an aquarium fanatic too… we’d met on a forum, and gotten to talking. I found out that she just so happened to be studying Marine Biology at another school, and we bonded pretty quickly after that. After graduation, I moved to California to be with her and after that, the rest is history. She was my rock. She was the one who always pushed me to be the best possible version of myself… and I loved her more than I ever knew I could love someone.
A glance back at the shore, fading into the distance tore me out of my reminiscing, and I shifted my focus to the present, going over The Tempura to perform some quick checks. My colleagues and I would be checking and rechecking the submarine over the next two days as we made our way toward the dive spot. Considering the danger that descending that deep posed, I didn’t want to take a single unnecessary risk.
I had too much to live for, after all.
***
The day of the dive, I couldn’t notice how excited the rest of the crew seemed… well… Sheila’s usual crew seemed excited. I guess to them, this was just another research expedition, no different than the ones Sheila usually took this ship out on. Lately her research had been focused on the analysis and study of whale calls. Her recent voyages had involved following their pods, recording their calls and playing them back to see how the whales reacted. It was fascinating stuff, but my research was admittedly a lot different than that.
My obsession had drawn me to the denizens of the deep sea. I’d used The Burger for expeditions before, although none of them had been on quite the same scale as this one. Up until today, the most ambitious thing I’d done was send down unmanned submersibles with cameras. Those submersibles had typically returned. We had lost a few early on due to technical glitches, but the past few years had been blissfully uneventful. Logically, this dive would probably be uneventful as well. But it was still hard to get the jitters out of my head.
My team and I did the final checks necessary to make sure that The Tempura was good to go, before setting up the crane to begin lifting it up. In less than an hour, I’d be inside of that thing, descending to the darkest depths of the ocean.
It didn’t feel real.
I felt Sheila’s hand on my shoulder, and looked over at her.
“Moment of truth, huh?” She asked. She probably meant it to sound encouraging, but it just sounded ominous.
“Moment of truth…” I replied.
“You’re gonna be okay, honey. I know you will.”
She reached out to gently squeeze my hand and gave me a reassuring smile that I meekly returned.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be okay,” I agreed, although there was an element of a lie in it. Statistically, yes. It probably WOULD be okay. But there was that lingering anxiety in the back of my mind that just wouldn’t go away. I looked quietly out at the submarine before me and couldn’t shake the thought that it sort of looked like a giant coffin. Unconsciously, I found myself squeezing Sheila’s hand tighter than normal. She just held me close and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, before gently rubbing my back.
“You’ll be okay,” She promised.
“Dr. Jenner, we’re ready for you.” I heard one of my colleagues say.
Moment of truth.
I took one last look at Sheila, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips for luck. She smiled at me, and I smiled back anxiously at her before heading over toward the submarine.
The crew helped me enter the cockpit and get myself situated inside. The cockpit of the Tempura was fairly cramped and not particularly comfortable. Space and comfort aren’t really luxuries you can afford in a submarine like this. The instruments I needed took up a lot of space, leaving little room for me in there… and I am not a very big person.
Once I was inside, they sealed the hatch. Then the diagnostics checks began.
“Grayson, can you hear us in there?” I heard Sheila say through the radio.
“Loud and clear,” I replied.
“Great. We’ll keep in constant radio contact, just to monitor the signal. In the meanwhile, how’s everything looking in there?”
“Green across the board so far,” I said, although I hadn’t finished running all my final checks yet. Ultimately, nothing was out of place.
This submarine was as good to go as it was going to get.
“I’m all good in here,” I said once I was done. “You can drop me when you’re ready.”
“You got it, honey. Let’s get you in the water, run one final round of tests and start lowering you down.”
A short while later, I felt the submarine begin to move as the crane lifted it off the deck and lowered it into the water. The Tempura honestly resembled its namesake in a way, being long and cigar shaped, only vertically oriented instead of horizontally oriented. We’d admittedly taken more than a few design cues from James Cameron’s Deepsea Challenger. Why fix what isn’t broken, after all?
Once I was in the water, a 1000 pound releasable ballast weight would cause the submarine to sink. Releasing that weight was also my ticket back to the surface, and I could either trigger it from inside the cockpit, or, in the event that the release failed for any reason, it would trigger automatically after roughly 12 hours of exposure to salt water.
Ideally, this would be the first of a number of dives I’d be undertaking… and if all went according to plan, the Tempura could be the first of many similar submarines that would allow other researchers to safely and effectively descend to extreme depths. If all went well, this could be a massive leap forward for researchers like me, allowing us to better explore the deepest depths of the Hadal Zone and learn all we could about the ecosystems down there via direct observation.
If all went well.
If.
Through the viewport, I watched as I was lowered into the ocean. A few of the other crew members had donned diving gear to escort me down, and after they did their final checks and I did mine, we were fully ready to go.
“All’s green across the board,” I said into the radio. “You can start my descent.”
“I hear you, honey,” Sheila replied. “We’re letting you go. Have fun down there.”
“Yeah, I’ll try…” I said quietly as finally, my submarine began its descent.
I took a deep breath, and told myself again that everything would go fine. We had checked everything on this submarine. We’d tested it rigorously. I wouldn’t have allowed myself to set foot inside of it if I hadn’t personally assured that it was safe. But anxiety never really goes away, does it? The crew couldn’t accompany me far. After only a few meters, they fell behind me as I sank deeper and deeper into the infinite, empty blue of the ocean. Soon after, the tether was released.
I was officially on my own.
“60 feet,” I heard Sheila say over the radio. “How are you doing in there?”
“Good,” I replied. “Doing… doing good.”
The submarine continued to descend. Through the viewport, I could see a few stray fish, but nothing particularly eye catching. I almost felt alone down there… almost…
“120 feet…” Sheila said.
“Still doing good,” I replied.
The descent continued, as the waters slowly grew darker and darker.
“400 feet…”
Everything around me just kept getting darker and darker. Only a fraction of the light from the sun ever reached these depths… and I’d be lying if I said that darkness didn’t feel a little… oppressive.
“800 feet… still feeling good?”
“Yeah, still feeling good…” I said, although it was a bit of a lie. If anything, I was second guessing all of this, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“1000 feet… still good?”
“Still good…” I murmured. “I hear you loud and clear.”
Deeper… deeper… deeper.
“1500 feet…”
Three miles. I was three miles away from home. Three miles away from Sheila.
“2000 feet…”
Still a ways to go.
“3000 feet…”
By this point, it was fully dark outside of my cockpit. Outside, all I could see was inky darkness. Even the submarine’s lights didn’t really cut through it. And the kicker? Relatively speaking, I wasn’t that deep. Fishing trawlers reached deeper than this. Better to conserve power until I was at the bottom. My descent continued.
“6000 feet… still good?”
“Still good…”
The check ins were becoming less frequent. My descent still continued… deeper… deeper… deeper. By now, I’d entered the Hadal Zone. But there was still so much deeper o go.
“8000 feet…”
This was past the depths that most whales would dive to… and I still had a ways to go.
“10,000 feet.”
This was close to where the ocean floor usually bottomed out… and yet there was still so much further to go. No. I was really only a third of the way there. How long had it been?Not much had happened beyond my descent and a few sightings out of my viewport, but time had been passing. A glance at my watch confirmed it’d been almost an hour since I’d started to sink… and I knew I wasn’t even close to the bottom yet. The submarine continued to descend, sinking ever deeper as I dropped into an infinite darkness that few had ever dared to witness.
“15,000 feet.”
This check in came later than the others. At this point, Sheila and the crew must have figured that no news was good news, and they were right. I just continued to sink peacefully, down into the crushing depths of the ocean.
These were the depths that one might normally find deep sea fish… and yet I was going somewhere even deeper than that.
“20,000 feet…”
So close…
I continued to sink.
“25,000 feet.”
Soon… and finally…
“30,000 feet. You still doing alright, honey?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m doing good,” I assured her. I was so close…
By this point, my real work had begun. I’d engaged the lights and begun documenting what little I could see using the on board cameras. Granted, there wasn’t much life at these depths and what little there was, was scarcely documented. Most of what was down here consisted of invertebrates and microscopic life that seemed to float past my viewport.
The light seemed to draw a few creatures in search of food. Small, hardy things that resembled shrimp.
“How’s it looking, Grayson?”
“Dark,” I said, half joking. “We’ve got some life… shrimp. They’re translucent. Can’t get a great look at them… but we’ll see what the cameras pick up.”
“They’ve recognized you as a friend,” Sheila said. I could almost see the smile on her lips as she said it.
“Yeah…” I replied, “Tempura sent them a message, told them I’d be down. How am I looking on depth?”
“35,000 feet… you seeing a bottom yet?”
“No… not that I would until I was there.”
“Damn… how deep does this go?”
“It can’t go that deep…” I murmured, although I really wasn’t so sure about that.
The submarine continued to sink…
36,000 feet…
37,000 feet…
38,000 feet… and then finally, just past the 39,000 foot mark, I finally saw solid ground below me.
Looking through my viewport, I could see a familiar dark brown diatomaceous sludge, covering the seafloor. Microscopic life, likely similar to what had been observed in other deep sea trenches, such as the Challenger Deep.
I needed to gather a sample.
As my submarine reached the bottom, I extended the mechanical arms, pressed flat against the surface of the Tempura, and opened the collection port near the bottom of the ship. Slowly, I sifted some of the sludge into the port. My disturbance of the seafloor kicked up a cloud of the microbial colony, and I could’ve sworn I saw something wiggling through the debris. A pale, white thing, perhaps some sort of sea cucumber? I hastily angled my submarines camera to try and catch a glimpse of it, before returning to my collection. Even in this forlorn place, there was still so much to see! And here I was… completely forgetting my fear as the excitement took hold of me! Few people had ever been down to these unfathomable depths… and yet here I was.
It didn’t feel real but it was! I had reached the deepest part of the ocean!
“How’s it going down there?” I heard Sheila ask. Her voice was a little garbled. The connection down here was faltering.
“It’s beautiful…” I said. “I can’t wait for you to see it!”
“I’ll bet…”
“I’m going to do a sweep of the area, see what samples I can gather,” I said. “What’s my time right now?”
“Three hours. You’ve got nine before your connection to the weight deteriorates and you start to ascend.”
“I’ll make the most of it,” I said. The plan was only to stay down there for six hours, and I didn’t want to push that limit. Life support would only last me for so long, and one little error was all it would take for the ungodly pressure down here to crush me.
I began to move the submarine. Mobility was limited. This thing wasn’t built to travel far. But I still had some limited movement. I recorded all that I could, filming the shrimp that investigated my light, and the things that slithered and crawled through the muck, likely feeding on the carpet of single celled organisms that populated these depths.
The first two hours were… well… I hesitate to call them uneventful, they were actually very fascinating, but little of note happened beyond my recording of a few specimens.
Midway through the third hour though, as I was reaching one of the rock walls of the abyss, I noticed something just above the edge of my viewport swimming away from the light. I could’ve sworn I saw slender, pale tentacles of some sort. Was that a squid? Were there squid down this deep? I wasn’t aware of any species of known squid who could reach these depths… but in this unknown place, what use was the known?
I moved my light and my camera to try and catch another glimpse of it, but whatever it was, it seemed to be gone. Maybe I’d see another one. I still had plenty of time.
“You made a noise. What’d you see?” Sheila asked.
“Something big… I think,” I said.
“Down there? Like a fish?”
“Squid. You wouldn’t find any vertebrates down this deep… the pressure would crush their bones.”
“Jeez…”
I didn’t reply to that, still searching for the thing I’d seen. I shone my light up along the walls of the chasm and angled my camera up as far as it would go. I could see a few volcanic vents, spewing dark clouds into the darkness, and more diatoms. But not much else. Strange invertebrates crawled along the walls. Small creatures, no bigger than an inch long. Related to isopods, perhaps? If I could collect one as a sample, I would have… although taking any of those back to the surface would surely kill them. They were built to live under the impossible pressure of these depths. Taking them to the surface would rip them apart.
I went back to my research, and it wasn’t long until I saw something in the darkness, just on the edge of where my flashlight reached. Trailing white tendrils, snaking their way through the darkness. My eyes narrowed as I moved the submarine forward, trying to catch whatever it was in the light. I saw the shape move, its body turning… I saw its tendrils unfurling. Whatever this was, it was big. It was almost as big as The Tempura… although it was also slender. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought I was looking at some sort of floating debris, but this far down? No. And debris wouldn’t move like that.
This had to be a deepsea squid… or perhaps some other type of cephalopod? Something that preyed upon the various invertebrates down here, perhaps? It seemed to float, just out of sight for a bit, as I tried to get closer. I angled up my light to get a better look at it. The light seemed to shine through it, like some sort of ghost… but I did manage to get a look at it.
Although that look…
That single look made me freeze up.
This things slender tendrils certainly resembled a cephalopod of some sort, but the rest of it… the rest of it looked like something else entirely. Its body was thin, emaciated and translucent, yet despite that it still had characteristics that almost seemed… human. It wasn’t human! Not by any stretch of imagination, but the resemblance was there. It almost reminded me of an exhibit I’d seen in a museum once, depicting a preserved, fully removed human nervous system. I could see a similar shape in its translucent body. Its head seemed almost human as well… albeit with no eyes, and a lamprey like mouth I could only describe as fleshy yet crablike.
Still, despite having no eyes I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was looking at me. And that was when I felt something hit the submarine.
I felt a sudden jolt of panic in my chest. For a moment, I thought that the pressure had started to crush me, but no… no, everything was still fine. Something had just hit me. But what? It didn’t take long before I got my answer.
Another pale creature floated past my viewport, swirling gracefully in the cold dark waters. I watched it for a moment with wide eyes, before noticing its ‘head’ turning slightly toward me. Then, almost instantly, it launched itself at the submarine, darting toward me with blinding speed.
I heard a distinct THUD as its body collided with me, and I could see its pale tendrils pressing against the viewport, twisting and writhing violently. It was trying to attack me. The first creature that I’d seen lunged as well, pounding on my submarine with another THUD. And moments later, I could hear more impacts against the hull. There were more of them… and they did not like having me down there.
“What’s going on?” Sheila asked.
“Somebody doesn’t like me…” I said. “One of the animals down here… some kind of squid, it’s just started attacking the hull.”
“How bad is the damage?”
“Not sure… could be nothing, could be-”
I felt the submarine shake as I tried to move it. The thrusters that pushed me forward weren't responding. Had something gotten caught in it? One of the creatures perhaps?
“Grayson?!” Sheila asked.
“Lost propulsion…” I said. “Fuck… I can’t move.”
“Then drop the weight and come up!”
“No, it’s fine, there’s no other damage, I can still use the port and starboard thrusters to-”
“Grayson!”
I paused. There was genuine panic in her voice… enough to make me realize that even if these things stood little chance of actually breaching the hull, taking the risk would be a fatal mistake.
“I’m on my way up…” I finally said, before reaching out to disengage the ballast weights.
Immediately, I felt myself beginning to rise, although the tentacles clinging to my viewport didn’t disappear.
“We’ve got you…” Sheila said. “Rising up to 38,000 feet.”
The submarine continued to rise, but the creatures clinging to me went nowhere. In fact… I was sure I could see more of them. More pale shapes coming up through the darkness, and these ones filled me with dread. I thought I had been looking at some sort of eerie undiscovered life. But seeing what was coming up toward me now… I knew that I was looking at so much more. The creatures swimming up toward me through the darkness carried weapons… makeshift stone spears and daggers. Primitive tools… but tools all the same.
Signs that these were more than just undiscovered animals.
Much. Much more.
The word: ‘Mermaids’ crossed through my mind, but these were something far different than the ones I’d heard of in folklore. These looked like they’d swam out of the depths of hell itself. Boneless pale tendrils reached for me… and they were getting closer. The pale shapes reached my submarine as I rose higher. I kept praying to whatever God may be listening that the dropping pressure would force them off. The air in a submarine is pressurized, so during normal operation, there should have been no danger of decompression sickness for me.
For them… well… normally I’d feel a little guilty about subjecting an undiscovered species of deep sea mermaids to the horrors of the Bends. But given my circumstances, I didn’t have a lot of other options.
They didn’t let go, though.
They should have. But they didn’t.
What were these things?
I saw a splayed hand press against my viewport. Or… it somewhat resembled a hand. It had suckers on it, like a tentacle and the ‘fingers’ curled open like tentacles. The creature crawled over my viewport, clinging to The Tempura as it rose, and I could see the folds of its crablike mouth opening and pressing against the glass. I could see some sort of bile rising up through its translucent throat, before it secreted it all over my viewport. Was it trying to digest me? Was that how these things fed? How strong were its stomach acids? Were they strong enough to-
The window cracked.
My heart skipped a beat.
“No… no, no no…”
“Grayson, what’s wrong?!”
“They cracked the window… S-Sheila they… oh God… oh fuck, they just…”
“THEY DID WHAT?”
“It’s secreting some sort of enzyme… it’s on the window, it’s… FUCK… I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die…”
“You’re not gonna die, baby! Just… just keep ascending, okay? You’re at 30,000 feet… just keep going…”
I nodded, and kept on rising, although the question of whether or not the rest of the creatures were trying to digest the other parts of my submarine floated through my mind. How much damage could The Tempura take before it imploded? How much longer did I have? The submarine still continued to rise… 25,000 feet… almost halfway home… almost… almost.
The creature outside of my viewport slithered along the glass, searching for a better area to try and digest. Past him, I noticed a few of his companions dropping off. Maybe the change in pressure finally was getting to them?
From the corner of my eye, I suddenly noticed a flashing light. A warning. The hydraulics on one of the Tempura’s arms were shot… what else was damaged?
I checked my oxygen levels. 32%.
I should’ve had at least 14 hours of air. I’d only been down there for about 6 hours… I shouldn’t have been this low.
31%.
No… no, no, no, no… they’d damaged the air tanks!
30%.
29%
“20,000 feet!” Sheila said. “You still with me, baby?”
“Y-yeah…” I said. I didn’t mention my air situation. I didn’t need to worry her further.
The submarine continued its ascent.
15,000 feet.
24%. I was running out of time.
The creatures still clung to the Tempura. How had the pressure change not killed them yet? My oxygen was dropping faster than before. I was hemorrhaging air. Another crack formed across my viewport. I let out a little, involuntary gasp before trying to force myself to stop hyperventilating.
“Grayson, what was that?”
“I-it’s fine…” I stammered, “It’s fine!”
“Grayson what the hell is going on down there?!”
“They’re still on the submarine… they’re still…” I paused, looking at my oxygen levels. “19%...”
“19% of what? Grayson what’s going on!”
I paused.
18%.
“Air… I’m… I’m losing air…”
“That’s fine, you’re going to make it!” She said, although I heard her voice cracking a little. “You’re gonna make it!”
I didn’t answer.
12,000 feet.
11,000 feet…
My oxygen level continued to drop.
15%.
14%.
12%.
9,000 feet.
The creatures still clung to me, as the submarine continued to rise. The one on my viewport was still there, slowly crawling along the glass again. I stared into its eyeless face and swore I was looking at the face of my killer.
7,000 feet…
Oxygen had dropped to 9%. It dropped to 8% before I even got to 6,000 feet. I was going to die here…
The viewport cracked again and I squeezed my eyes shut. The submarine rocked. I was sure one of the thrusters had been damaged. My ascent slowed.
“Grayson, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry Sheila…”
Another crack spread across my viewport.
“I’m… I’m not making it back up…”
“YES YOU ARE!”
“I’m sorry…” The tears started to come as the reality of my death became clearer and clearer… this was it.
“YOU’RE COMING BACK UP, YOU HEAR ME! GODDAMNIT, I’LL BRING YOU BACK UP!”
“I love you…”
That creatures face pressed against the glass. It vomited more of its stomach acid onto the cracked glass, and I wondered if this might finally be what broke it. Part of me hoped it would be… the one good thing about dying this deep was that at least I’d die quickly. My suffering would be over. Then, the creature suddenly pulled back, twisting and writhing violently. I saw other shapes moving past it in the water, other ‘mermaids’ that had been clinging to the submarine.
Something was agitating them.
Something was scaring them off.
Then I heard it, over the radio… whale songs.
“What the hell…?”
“Grayson, are you still there?!”
“I… they’re finally breaking off. Sheila, what did you do?”
“I’m broadcasting some of the orca recordings we’ve been using. Are they still clinging to you?”
“No! They’re backing off! I… whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”
The submarine kept rising.
5,000 feet.
4,000 feet.
4% oxygen.
I could still do this, right?
The submarine continued to rise.
3%.
3,000 feet.
2,000 feet.
2%.
1,000 feet… so close… I was so close…
I could almost see the surface through my viewport, rushing up toward me. I tried not to breathe. Tried not to move. All I did was hope.
500 feet.
I closed my eyes.
“Grayson we have your signal, we’re coming to pick you up!”
Sheila’s voice sounded so far away as my submarine finally breached the surface of the water… and with the last of my strength, I pulled the emergency release on the hatch, and threw it open, taking in lungful after lungful of fresh salty air.
I didn’t dare so much as touch the water beneath me… but I was topside again, and in the distance, I could see The Burger!
“We see you!” Sheila said, “We’ve got you baby… we’ve got you…”
“I see you too…” I said through the tears. “Thank you… thank you…” I didn’t have any words left in me after that.
As soon as I was back on the ship, I collapsed into Sheila’s arms, breaking down into tears as I clung to her, terrified that at any moment, some sort of unspoken other shoe would drop and I’d lose her all over again.
“Shh… it’s alright baby… I’ve got you… you’re safe… you’re safe…” I felt her fingers running through my air and I knew that what she said was true.
I was home.
I was safe.
***
I left my colleagues to review the data that the Tempura gathered during its short expedition. As far as I know, they haven’t published anything. I have a few ideas as to why, but I’ll keep those to myself. Let’s just say that some people would rather this information not become public.
I have a feeling that the Tempura may not be diving again for some time, if ever. I will confess that I do consider that a bit of a shame. Despite everything… I would consider it a success. It endured far more stressful conditions than I had expected, and from what I heard, required fewer repairs than I’d thought it would. But, even if it was approved for another dive, it wouldn’t be me piloting it. No. I will never be setting foot inside of that machine again, nor will I ever be returning to what my colleagues have been quietly referring to as ‘The Jenner Trench’.
I can’t.
Every night, I wake up crying after dreaming of pale shapes outside of my cracked viewport, clinging to Sheila and sobbing. I can’t put myself in that situation again.
I can’t.
Instead, I think I’m going to spend the next few years on solid ground. There’s a teaching position available at a local university. I think that might be the best place for me right now. Who knows, maybe I can help some other deadbeat discover a passion for marine biology.
After everything, my love for the sea remains unchanged… I’m just a little more wary of it, these days.

With the shortage it’s been 6 weeks without taking Zepbound. I did 1 month on 2.5 and 1 month on 5 and I was making great progress but am really struggling without it, as many of us are. I met with my doctor a week ago and we put in another prescription to start back at 2.5 but insurance won’t cover it this time around. I haven’t been able to get 5mg refilled in 6 weeks. My doctor was willing to put in the prescription for 7.5 but that seems like a huge jump to me after not taking it in 6 weeks and doing really well on 5mg. My insurance only covers 5mg and 10 mg as maintenance (covering more than 1 pack a year) and will also only cover 1 month of 2.5 and 7.5 a year. We put in another PA request for 2.5 but unlikely that will go through.
I’ve read a lot about it not being recommended after so much time to move up / start where you left off, but I can’t afford to pay out of pocket, even with the coupon for 2.5 (if I could even get it). I’ve thought about plan C and the whole process makes me a bit nervous and it’s also not the cheapest when I was paying 0 for zepbound with insurance.
What am I even supposed to do? I’m exhausted from calling pharmacies, insurance, my doctor, and googling nonstop. Would starting 7.5 really be that bad of an option?
The first week of 2.5 I had pretty much no appetite and the second week hit me like a truck with low energy, fatigue, brain fog, constipation etc. I quickly cleaned up my act and 2.5 was a lot better and moved up to 5 because of insurance. First week of 5mg I did my best to get in vitamins protein water etc. which made it a lot better than the first 2 weeks of 2.5, but the first day of 5mg for the 4 weeks was extreme fatigue, on and off stomach aches but by day 3 of the last 2 weeks I had pretty much no side effects and even went 11 days inbetween shot 3 and shot 4.

Female, 5’10”, weight unknown. Musculoskeletal conditions, treatment-resistant depression, ADHD, various GI issues with conflicting diagnoses. No drugs or alcohol.
Hello! When I was 12, I began having gastrointestinal discomfort and inappetite (and also an overgrowth of vaginal yeast that I know may have been related). After a few tests, I was told I had H. Pylori and needed to be treated. I was put on three to four antibiotics and a PPI. I took them for over a month, and one of them I took for at least 3 months (I would assume the Ranitidine).
While I had a few stomach issues before then, such a lactose intolerance and discomfort after certain foods, I realize that majority of my stomach issues started soon after that. Nowadays, I have a plethora of digestive issues: IBS with mixed constipation and diarrhea; ulcer-like pain when I take NSAIDs (so I don’t) or certain supplements/medications; early satiety; aches; regurgitation; generalized discomfort, sluggishness, and unwell feeling after eating even small amounts; many others; and nausea if I mix foods that don’t ‘fit’. Foods that don’t fit is just a term I’ve applied to what seems to happen when I eat foods that don’t comprise a very normal meal. Like if I had fish and rice, it would be fine. But fish and a biscuit would make me gassy and bloated and sick. Or if I tried to just nibble at some leftovers, like let’s say I have a few bites of spaghetti with a few bites of shepherd’s pie — I can only imagine how uncomfortable I’d be. I also have no appetite and rarely crave anything.
I’m not at all claiming all of my issues are due to imbalances. But, I do think that, given how some current literature suggests conservative treatment and reintroduction of pro-digestive microorganisms, some of my issues may be linked.
Is there any advice for treating this? And, I’ve been seeing doctors for my issues since I was 13-14. I’ve been given a number of diagnoses, but the treatments never worked, and they’ve ruled out any comprehensive problems (celiac, parasites, organ issues, crohn’s, early dumping, etc).

Cover Art!
Just because you’re transported to another world, doesn’t mean you’ll escape from your pain.
Abused by her parents, thirteen-year-old Frances only wants to be safe and for her life not to hurt so much. And when she and her class are transported to the magical world of Durannon to fight the monsters invading the human kingdoms and defeat the self-titled Demon King, Frances is presented with a golden opportunity. If she succeeds, Frances will have the home she never had. If she fails, Frances will be summoned back to the home she escaped.
Yet, despite her newfound magic and friends, Frances finds that trauma is not so easily lost. She is dogged by her abuse and its physical and invisible scars. Not only does she have to learn magic, she has to survive the nightmares of her past, and wrestle with her feelings of doubt and self-loathing.
If she can heal from her trauma, though, she might be able to defeat the Demon King and maybe, just maybe, she can find a home for herself.
[The Beginning] [<=Chapter 216] [Chapter Index and Blurb] [Chapter 218 May 28 or see the next chapter now on Patreon]
The Fractured Song Index
Discord Channel Just let me know when you arrive in the server that you’re a Patreon so you can access your special channel.
Frances and company catch up before the final battle.
***
“Hold on. How would he win this battle if we outnumber him and surround him?” Ginger asked.
“He could target our leadership. Focus on killing Titania, Antigones, you and Martin,” said Ayax.
“Only, he’d have to kill Sebastian and Megara, as well as Edana and you too, Frances, along with a whole list of targets. I’m not sure how he could pull that off,” said Elizabeth.
Ayax grimaced, brow furrowed, but Frances knew the answer to that question.
“Thorgoth doesn’t need to find half the targets he’s after. Myself, mom, Titania, our strongest mages and the rest of the people that will be on his list have leadership positions. Like it or not we’ll be involved in the battle and he just needs to find us on the battlefield. A well-placed spell and he’d snuff any non-magic person out,” Frances said.
“So what do we do then?” Martin asked.
Frances’ heart was pounding, for she knew the answer, but was afraid to give it life. Yet what could she do but tell what she knew was the truth?
“Take the battle to him. Thorgoth will have to operate by himself with maybe just his Royal Guards. We need to hold him and his escort and defeat him before he hurts everybody else.”
“So, all the Otherworlders, our best mages?” Ayax asked.
“Not all of them. But my mother and I, Jessica and Leila, Dwynalina and Jim and Nicole, with a few Otherworlders holding off his guards,” said Frances.
Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Ayax and I can go after Queen Berengaria. I can’t imagine her going far from her husband.”
“This is assuming we can at least split the attention of the dragons and keep them occupied of course,” said Martin. He touched Ginger’s elbow. “Not that I don’t trust you dear.”
“Oh I know, but it is a consideration.” She swirled the wine in her cup. “That means Martin and I will be directing the battle with Sebastian and Alexander.”
“It’s likely you’ll be the overall commander with Martin. Alexander and Sebastian would then take charge of their own contingents,” said Elizabeth. She bit her lip. “Do you feel up for it?”
Ginger shrugged. “I mean, we have to—”
Elizabeth reached out to pat her friend’s shoulder. “Martin, Ginger, you know we have every faith in both of you, but if you need help, there is no shame in asking for it.”
“Besides I think we’re all scared. I know I am,” Ayax said with a smile. Even so, they could all see how her tail looked like it was trying to twist itself into knots. Frances figured her cousin wasn’t trying to hide her fear, just trying not to alarm or panic them.
Martin sighed. “I think that’s the problem, Liz. Duty compels us. Love binds us. So I know no matter what happens, I know we’ll stand together to face him. Still, we are afraid and while I know I won’t run, I worry that fear may cloud my judgment at a crucial moment.”
Ginger wiped her eyes, but her tears now flowed freely down her cheeks. “How do I know I won’t panic, and make a bad call? How do we know we are all coming back? We can’t. I…I guess we have to accept that, but I don’t want to lose you. Any of you.”
Drawing her friend into a tight hug, Elizabeth gently patted Ginger’s back. “I don’t either. I suppose that for me, I’ve always looked to my faith in God, and in you all. Have we not triumphed in all we’ve faced?””
Frances found herself nodding, her throat unclenching and the tight nervousness in her shoulders and neck fading. What remained was a faint feeling of lightness that lifted her chin.
“You’re right. We should believe in ourselves, and hope. Hope for a future when we win this war. Hope that our good will triumph over Thorgoth’s evil. Hope that in a few days, we’ll be home with our family, and our friends.”
Martin gave Frances a wondering look. “How are you able to hope that?”
Frances smiled. “I think that I have always been good at having hope. I didn’t realize it until now, but even in my darkest moments, I always hoped that I would find a place where I could be me.”
Ayax stood up, raising her glass. “To faith, friendship and hope. May it see us all through our final trial.”
Rising to their feet, the five touched glasses and drank deep. They all were smiling. The pain and fear in their hearts soothed by the hope they held and the determination to see each other once again.
***
“Frances, can I walk with you?”
Frances would never have said no to her best friend, and she could tell that past Elizabeth’s bright smile, her friend was worried. There were just too many small signs learnt from years of friendship. She was scratching behind her ear, and her eyes were narrowed just slightly from the tension in her face.
“Of course,” said Frances, falling in beside the tall Otherworlder. “How are you and Ayax?”
Elizabeth giggled. “We’re great! Fantastic even. She and I are even talking about what we might do after the war. We have so many plans and well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about that.”
Frances waited as Elizabeth continued to walk beside her, lips pursed.
“I know that after the war, I’m choosing to stay here with Ayax, with all of you. I just…” her voice trailed off, and her walk slowed to a crawl.
Taking a slight breath, Frances touched her friend’s hand. “Liz, you know it’s okay for you to doubt that.”
Elizabeth stopped and shook her head. “Oh no, I don’t have any doubts about my decision. At the very least, I’m past the point where my doubts aren’t going to change my decision. I know I’ve changed too much in the past seven years. I’ve come to terms with my sexuality. I’ve fallen head over heels in love with a woman who loves me just as much. I’ve commanded armies, led soldiers into battle and helped to make decisions affecting hundreds of thousands of people. I can’t go back pretending I’m Grade 8 and neither do I want to.” She squeezed Frances’s hand. “My decision is the right one. I know it in my heart and I’ve prayed about it. I can do a lot of good here and me going back? That won’t just hurt the people I love here, but it’ll hurt me and my family at home. I can’t hide who I’ve become and I’m proud of what I’ve grown into.”
Frances closely studied her friend knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t mind her staring.
“So what are you feeling, Liz?”
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth sniffled. “Guilt. It’s stupid. I know I’m making the right choice. I’m sure in my heart that God is encouraging me to make this choice, but I still feel guilty.”
“How could you not? You know your family loves you.”
“And I’m abandoning them. I know I’m doing the right thing but I still feel like I’m doing something wrong,” said the Otherworlder.
Frances hugged her best friend, squeezing her tight, hoping that her warmth and touch could comfort the woman who she’d trusted as much as her own mother.
“Liz, if they are everything you told me, they’re going to be alright. Have faith in them, like your faith in me and your friends.”
Elizabeth let out a sigh, but returned the hug. “Thank you, Frances. If…if the worst comes and you are sent back without me, go to them. Tell them I love them.”
Tears in her eyes, Frances nodded. “I promise. If you are sent back, I will take care of Ayax.”
Elizabeth let out a gurgly hiccup. “Thank you. I know you will.”
***
The historic coronation of King Martin and Queen Ginger would found what would be known as the Congrey dynasty. Con for Conthwaite and Grey for King Jerome’s dynasty.
It was an unusual coronation as King Martin and Queen Ginger were long-betrothed but not married. Yet King Jerome and Queen Forowena’s wills had been clear. Apart from that, the coronation involved as many of Eridale's traditions as possible in light of the circumstances.
Down the parade route attended by all those that could be mustered, King and Queen marched in at the head of an honor guard composed of their closest companions. These included Frances, Elizabeth, and Ayax, who held three poles of a crimson banner that hung over the pair. The fourth corner was held by Martin’s sister Mara, who wore a slightly undignified grin. Yet, nobody could really blame her.
Martin wore a black-white checkered tunic with red-gold trimmings and shoulder epaulets. His trousers were dark gray with again red-gold tassels. Ginger did wear a dress. It was of a dark maroon with silver lacing. A bejeweled gorget studded with emeralds hung from her neck and her ears sparkled with dark blue sapphires.
There was one minor alteration. As the procession marched up to the entrance of the old Goblin Empire palace, on a raised wooden dais dressed with elaborately embroidered carpets stood the attending dignitaries. They included all the other Erisdalian lords and ladies such as Viscountess Katia and Lord Tarquin, dressed in all the finery they could muster. Other notables such as Prince Timur, representing the Kingdom of Alavaria, Grandmaster Edana of the White Order and Alexander and Eloise of Erlenberg stood proudly side by side.
Towards the center of the dais were three figures. King Sebastian and Queen-Consort Megara, and the former Queen Janize. Sebastian and Megara were standing, holding Queen Forowena’s crown, whilst the heavily pregnant Janize sat, holding King Jerome’s crown. Thorgoth may have taken their decorated helmets, but he did not have their ceremonial attire.
Martin and Ginger stepped out from under the awning, giving their bearers a brief nod, before taking the last steps up the dais.
Whistling a spell, Megara touched her throat with her wand. “Who stands before the crowns?”
Martin knelt to one knee. The bearers of the awning followed. “Sir Martin of Conthwaite. A Knight of Erisdale.”
Ginger curtsied low. Frances nearly split her lips as she grinned at her friend’s perfect form. “Ginger. Just Ginger of Erisdale.”
Janize’s expression was unreadable as she rose to her feet. There was a slight archness to her features, and yet that could just be how she lifted her haughty cheeks.
“As witnessed by all, and by the King and Queen of Lapanteria, do you swear to defend Erisdale with all means at your disposal including force of arms?”
“We do.”
“Do you swear to uphold the laws of the land and the rights of Erisdale’s citizens?”
“We do!”
“Do you swear that until your dying breaths, to govern and reign over Erisdale not for your benefit, but for the benefit of the people and for their future generations?”
From her kneeling position, Frances frowned. That wasn’t quite the right oath. The wording was “Do you swear to govern over Erisdale wisely and justly?” She supposed that she might have missed it, or maybe there was a variation.
Yet as she noted her fiance’s face, she noticed his eyes were wide and her mother’s eyebrow was arched.
Not skipping a beat, Martin and Ginger bellowed. “We do!”
“Do you swear that you will do your utmost not to make the same mistakes as your predecessors and do whatever it takes to preserve Erisdale’s peace, even if it may cost you your lives?”
Frances blinked. Janize had gone completely off script. There was no fourth oath.
However, Martin and Ginger only hesitated for a moment as they exchanged a glance and looked up to meet Janize’s gaze.
The blonde woman’s eyes were bright and the hands holding Jerome’s crown were trembling ever so slightly. Frances had wondered why she’d insisted on doing this. Martin and Ginger had wanted to approach her to ask if she was willing, but the enigmatic former queen had surprised them by demanding they allow her to crown them. She now had an idea as to why.
“We do,” said Martin, smiling.
Ginger returned that smile. Blinking back her own tears, she took a breath. “In the name of Queen-consort Forowena and your brother, King Jerome. We solemnly swear.”
Janize closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek.
“Then as the last heiress of House Grey, I pass the crown of Erisdale on forever. Long live the Congrey dynasty. Long live Martin the Hero of Erisdale and his queen to be Ginger, whom I dub Erisdale’s Burning Heart.”
Lifting Jerome’s crown high, she set it onto Martin’s head. Swiftly taking Queen Forowena’s crown from Sebastian, she set it on Ginger’s head.
“Hail King Martin and Queen Ginger!” Janize bellowed as Martin and Ginger rose to their feet.
The crowd chanted back, their voices filling the great cavern. “Hail King Martin and Queen Ginger! Hail King Martin and Queen Ginger!” Frances could barely hear her own voice over the crescendo. The call that they all raised. Like the sound carried up into the void, she could feel herself be carried up. It was like she was floating on the power of their united song.
Turning around, Martin and Ginger smiled at Frances. Their eyes were wide, and she could see them clasp each other’s hands tightly.
Frances found herself standing on her feet, the pole to her awning in her hand. Without a second thought, she stabbed the pole’s spike into the ground. As her hand dropped to Alanna, she paused for a moment before her mind caught up with her body, and she nodded as if to herself.
Drawing the estoc, Frances raised her blade high, saluting her two friends.
“Long may they reign! Long may they reign!”
Elizabeth was right behind her, hammer raised high. Ayax followed suit with her staff and Mara and the rest were soon drawing their weapons. From the corner of her eye, Frances even spotted Morgan and Hattie raising their wand and staff.
“Long may they reign! Long may they reign!”
***
Helias glanced over his shoulder toward the accursed city. Despite the distance, there was a tremble in the air of Kairoun-Aoun itself.
“Helias?” Sara asked.
“Sounds like they crowned Martin and Ginger. They’re going to attack soon,” he said.
Sara nodded, her tense jaw the only sign of the worry that had seized the harpy-orc. As gently as he could manage with his rough, scarred hands, he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“Sara. We’re going to be fine.”
“You’re lying,” she said with eyes fixed forward.
The general couldn’t help but wince. “Sorry.”
Slowing in her stride, Sara placed a hand over Helias’s. “I still appreciate you trying to comfort me but I would prefer you to tell me the truth. How bad is it?”
Helias looked around. “Thorgoth may pull off a miracle and get himself and Berengaria out. However, a lot of Alavari are going to die.”
“What are you going to do?” Sara asked.
“I’ll have to attend this meeting and see what Thorgoth is planning. We’ll make a plan after that.”
“You and I know it’s not going to change anything,” Sara said, looking up at her husband, who could not meet her gaze. Yet, she didn’t push him away. Instead put her hand around his waist, drawing him closer.
“I know, but I want to be sure,” said Helias in a low tone.
“I understand. See you soon,” said Sara.
***
Helias found himself exchanging side-long glances with Glowron. The pair sat, both leaning forward toward King Thorgoth and a pacing Queen Berengaria, who’d finished explaining tomorrow’s strategy.
“Do you have anything else to add, my good generals?” Thorgoth asked. The king still smiled easily as he swirled a cup of wine in his hands.
Glowron shook his head. His tone was short but he kept this expression neutral. “No sire.”
The goblin general was Helias’s superior in rank and social class. The fact of the matter was that if Glowron had no objections, then there was no way the tauroll could object.
And still, Helias felt bile rise in the back of his throat. He froze, ever so briefly. Closing his eyes, he shook his head. Nothing mattered, except for Sara and Gwendilia.
“No sir. I’ll have my troops ready for tomorrow.”
That should have been that. They would have been dismissed to prepare for tomorrow’s suicide mission, but the king’s whims had other plans.
King Thorgoth put his cup down and leaned forward. “Oh come on my good generals. Surely you have something to improve on this plan.”
Glowron’s expression remained blank, whilst Helias smiled. “Your Majesty, you were the one who taught me everything I know. I can think of nothing I can add to your strategy.”
Queen Berengaria strode toward him. “You’re usually so talkative, Helias. Are you sure you have no other thoughts?”
“I beg your apologies, but I do not have any further additions to your plan, Your Majesty. My lord Glowron?” Helias asked.
“I do not either, my liege—” Glowron fell silent and Helias’s tail stiffened.
Thorgoth and Berengaria were no longer smiling and with a few more steps, the harpy queen had put herself behind the two generals.
“Let me be plain, we are now not asking you about how to improve the plan. We are asking for your thoughts. Give them.”
The Demon King’s remaining dark eye was narrowed. The other was now covered with a black silk eyepatch, the remains of the scar that Queen Forowen had given him, a discoloration scouring a line along the side of his face and right over his ear. In spite of the king’s injury, Helias felt nothing but cold dread dry his mouth.
“Your Majesty, my only thought is that we have no option but to follow your plan. No matter how we got into this situation, the only thing we can do is go forward and try to win this day,” Glowron said.
“And do you blame me, Glowron?”
Helias watched, eyes wide as somehow the much smaller goblin general continued to meet the king’s eyes. “I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t assign some responsibility to you at all, but I believe we ought to have thought of the possibility of such a trap. So the responsibility is mine as well.”
Thorgoth nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, Helias saw the slightest of nods that Berengaria gave to her husband. Alarm shooting his gaze back toward the Demon King, Helias found the full attention of his sovereign and sometimes uncle directed right at him.
“And you, General Helias?”
Lie and he might not be able to make it convincing enough. Tell the truth about what he thought about this war and he was never seeing Sara and Gwendilia again. Thorgoth hadn’t just been hurt, his pride had been wounded and he was now backed into a corner. It would be unwise to anger him, but what to say? What could he say?
All he could think of, and see was his child and her adoring gaze. All he could feel was the touch of Sara’s hand against his. They’d become closer than he could have imagined and were more than just companions with mutual goals now.
If he was to die, then maybe he could tell this truth.
“I am mostly thinking of my wife and my child, my king. The coming battle has me greatly concerned with how dangerous it shall be.”
Thorgoth narrowed his eyes at Helias for a brief moment. The tauroll, staying very still, waited for the presumed reaction by Berengaria.
Whatever Berengaria did made Thorgoth arch an eyebrow.
“I thought you didn’t consider your wife to be worth much,” said the king in a mild tone.
His mind racing, Helias ran with the idea. “She has responded well to the constraints and discipline I’ve enforced on her. She does nothing but facilitate all my needs and has served me well.”
He could feel Berengaria’s eyes narrow, but Thorgoth was already leaning back onto his chair. “Good for you. You are dismissed.”
“Thank you, sire,” said Helias, almost unable to hide his sigh of relief.
***
Author’s Note: While I wish I could have spent more quality time with Martin, Elizabeth, Ginger and Ayax, I do love the best-friend/team that I created for Frances. This chapter and the last was my little way of giving each of them a bit of time with Frances before the final battle.

So my father used to own a cabin. In fact he used to own a lot of different properties. Which I suppose is just a roundabout way of saying that we grew up with money. Where things get a bit complicated is how he actually made that money.
The line that he constantly fed us was that he was an accountant running his own firm in an office in the city. Long hours, lots of business trips. We never saw him much. And whenever we did, he always seemed tired, his eyes perpetually bloodshot, as if he were always trying to force them to stay open.
He was sent off to prison right after I’d finished my first year of college.
The sentence? Fifteen years, for washing hundreds of millions of dollars for numerous cartels. Two weeks after he’d been booked, my mother committed suicide. As it turns out, she’d been helping him out through the entire thing and was facing some time herself. I guess she didn’t want to deal with all that and took the drastic way out.
A few months later, the government had seized pretty much all his property.
All of it, except for that cabin in the woods.
It took a long time for me to feel normal again. But eventually I managed it. Went back to school and graduated with a good enough GPA which allowed me to snag some shitty office job a few months later. But it was enough to pay the bills.
Fast forward about another year and I’ve basically scrubbed that entire sequence of events out of my brain. It took a little bit of therapy, a lot of psychedelics, but I finally did it, to the point where I was comfortable enough to go back to that cabin, the one place where I’d see my father for more than a few weeks at a time during our summer trips.
I decided to take along three of my friends from Uni - Jack, Pedro, Randy.
We drove down there at the beginning of May. The road leading to the cabin hadn’t been maintained at all and as a result, it had become borderline undrivable. I decided to save my vehicle the stress and parked in a nearby lot, leaving us about a one-and-a-half-mile trek through the woods, which really wasn’t so bad.
Our time in the cabin was pretty much spent getting drunk and stoned, and by the third night we had completely run out of food.
We decided to take the thirty minute walk over to the nearest rest stop, where I knew that there was a 24/7 diner. So we go there, eat our meals, and on the way back we notice a burning smell in the woods, as if there was a bonfire raging about nearby.
Of course that was a bit strange given that it was around 2AM. But we didn’t think too much of it at the time and we kept walking.
It was only when the smell continued to grow stronger as we got closer to the cabin that we understood something was very wrong. Soon it had become suffocating, and we could see the night sky tinged with orange in the near distance.
I felt my heart drop into my stomach and immediately I was sprinting, my worst fear realized as I reached the clearing where the cabin was located.
Completely up in flames, plumes of dark smoke blending in with the night.
It was a mix of different emotions that hit me all at once, the combination of them creating a sense of dread so deep I hadn’t thought it possible.
After reeling myself in, I called 9-1-1, with the operator telling me that the fire department would be on their way but wouldn’t be able to reach us for at least thirty minutes. The four of us walked away from the cabin in silence, getting far enough so that the smoke was no longer scratching at our throats.
Around ten minutes later, we noticed that the orange tinge in the sky had suddenly disappeared. And I mean suddenly. Like, gone in a single blink. I thought I might’ve been hallucinating, but it was clear from their expressions that my friends were seeing something similar.
Cautiously, we started making our way back towards the cabin, noticing that the smoke was no longer heavy in the air, having cleared up considerably. Once we reached the clearing, it had disappeared altogether.
I looked ahead, my brain working overtime to comprehend the sight before me. The cabin was no longer on fire. Burnt to a crisp, sure. But the raging, overwhelming flames that had been consuming it just minutes prior had somehow completely fizzled out.
The four of us looked between each other, as if to confirm we were all still seeing the same thing.
Using the flashlight on my phone to survey the damage, I found pretty much what I’d expected. Complete destruction. Absolutely zero hope of recovering anything.
I started taking some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down when I heard Pedro yelling out from the other side.
“Guys… where the fuck did this thing come from?”
We all walked over to him. Nestled in the debris was the corpse of… something. A monstrosity.
It was about the size of a bear, with the sections of its body that weren’t burnt showing pale, clammy skin with deep cuts etched throughout it, in what looked to be some kind of crude pattern. Its head had been smashed in, leaving nothing but an abnormally wide bottom jaw which was still baring long, black teeth. It had an uncountable number of long, thick arms that it was using to hold something that resembled a human infant, one that appeared to be completely unscathed, devoid of any burn marks. The longer I stared at it, the more that I was convinced I could see it breathing.
It was a bizarre enough sight to put us into a near-trance. What eventually snapped us out of it was the chanting.
It was barely noticeable at first, slowly escalating in pitch until it was clear that there were several human voices shouting in unison. Their tones were animalistic, their words strung together with just the bare beginnings of a rhythm. It sounded like they were speaking English, though I could hardly make out anything they were saying.
The strangest part though, was how quickly it was getting closer to us. Definitely not a walking pace. It was more like a sprint.
The four of us shared a quick glance between each other and immediately there was an understanding.
We ran like bats out of hell, tripping over branches, our own feet.
But eventually we reached my car, all of us scrambling to pile into it. As I was fumbling for my keys, the chanting had become deafening, to a point that hardly made sense. It sounded as if there were speakers lined up in a circle around us, all blasting that horrible noise.
And the second that I had put the keys into the ignition, things went silent. I found myself holding my breath as I looked up, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness until what I was seeing was unmistakable. Several figures standing completely still at the edge of the woods. All human-shaped but far too large to be people.
All the air being held in my lungs flooded out with one big exhale and I slammed the vehicle into drive and took a sharp turn before speeding the hell out of there, refusing to look in the rearview until we had made it into the highway.
I drove until I had reached the rest stop, which was now hosting an absurd number of police cars. I parked, got out, and approached one of the cops, asking if they were here because of the fire.
The cop shook his head. “Fire? No. Has there been a fire?”
I explained the situation with the cabin to him, deciding to leave out the creature and the chanting for the time being.
The cop nodded slowly, his expression remaining largely the same throughout.
“Alright,” he said. “We’ll look into it. And then give you an update in the morning. For tonight, just get a hotel or something.”
We exchanged numbers and I thanked him. As I began to walk away, he called out to me.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
I turned back around.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
“Do you happen to be (my dad’s name)’s son?”
For a while I just stared at him. Eventually I nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought I recognized you.”
“I don’t understand,” I told him. “I’ve never seen you before.”
The cop took a deep breath before taking a quick look around. “Come here,” he said. “Come close.”
Tentatively, I did so.
“I can’t tell you everything. I don’t even know everything. But I think you should have the right to know the truth about your father. All of the stuff that’s happened here tonight, all of the shit that you’ve seen… it has something to do with him.
He took another look around before continuing. “Cartels, right? Was that the story they told you? It’s not so creative. But I guess it doesn’t have to be creative to be believable. Cause the shit that he was actually mixed up in… you would not believe unless you’ve seen it for yourself.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
“Look, I have your number. I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning. This is something I’m curious about as well. Maybe you can give me some answers, point me in the right directions. But not here. So get out of here before people start noticing you. And stay safe.”
I didn’t feel like staying in a hotel that night, so I drove back into the city, dropping everybody off before arriving back at my own apartment.
Of course I couldn’t sleep that night, my eyes wired open into the morning as I waited for the officer to call. He still hadn’t by the time that noon rolled around and so I tried calling him instead.
No answer.
Eventually I did receive a call from the police, telling me that my father’s cabin had burned down and that it was due to a forest fire.
I told them that wasn’t possible because there had been no forest fire and that I suspected foul play and wanted it to be investigated.
“It’s already been investigated,” are the exact words that the officer told me. “Don’t worry about it. Just get in touch with insurance. Go over your options.”
And before I could say anything else, he had hung up on me.
It was a mixture of anger and curiosity that compelled me to drive back down there. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for the road leading towards the rest stop to be blocked altogether. There were two cop cars guarding the barrier, with a single officer signalling any vehicles approaching to turn around.
I pulled over to the side of the road and after some careful deliberation, I decided to get out and approach him and ask what was going on. Just to see what he might say.
When I finished the question, he stared at me for a long time. Uncomfortably long.
“Emergency construction,” is what he eventually told me.
After that encounter, I pretty much dropped trying to figure things out.
Some weird things have started happening to me since. Every night, I swear I can hear a baby crying in the apartment across from mine. The apartment that I thought had been occupied by a pair of college kids who definitely do not have children.
That cop that was supposed to call me finally did, a few nights ago. When I answered, I was met with dead silence on the other end. Nearly thirty seconds of it until the line clicked dead.
There’s an abandoned house sitting across the street from my apartment building, one that’s supposedly been there for years because the development of the store meant to take its place keeps getting delayed.
Somebody has started staring at me through its second-floor window. Whenever I catch them doing it, they’re quick to close the blinds, so I can never catch any details. But I know that the moment I turn away from it, their eyes are back on me.
I can’t confirm that any of these things are related. Whether it has anything to do with my father.
I just know that I don’t want to deal with it and that I want it to end.

When I was 12 it was my sister's birthday and she invited her friend who was also our neighbor (who I will call n) over for the party. N was 9 at the time. My parents ordered a giant inflatable slide for the party and at one point during the party me my sister and n were all playing on the inflatable slide. For some reason my 12 year old brain decided that I wanted to touch ns foot/feet because I had a foot fetish when I was 12. I think just because I wanted to touch feet due to my fetish and I guess i never touched a girls feet before so stupid 12 year old me decided that this was my opportunity to do so and from what I can remember it had nothing to do with n in my head as I wasn't attracted to her because she was too young I simply only was focused on her feet. So I literally came up with a game for me my sister and n to play where they had to run away from me and I had to try and catch them but for me I created the game just for an opportunity to grab/touch ns foot when I was chasing her but mostly my plan was to grab it when she went down the slide. From what I can remember I was successful a few times and I got to grab ns feet and I can't remember if I would feel around her foot or if I just grabbed it but the possibly that I might have felt around it scares me a lot even though i I don't think i did and I think I just grabbed the foot. I also might have tried to hold on to it as long as possible so probably around like 2 3 seconds and I feel disgusting for this and like I was a disgusting pedo especially because I think she was 3 years younger and I'm also afraid that what I did was sexual harassment or assault. Like I said it had nothing to do with n in my dumb 12 year old mind and more so with her feet and just the opportunity to get a chance to touch feet but it still makes my stomach sink and I don't know if I deserve to live anymore remembering this.

33M, caucasian, non-smoker, social drinker, history of SVT with overall low risk factors. Currently taking Pantapropozole, Carvidolol, Multivitamin, Iron, Miralax. I'll attempt to make this short-winded and hope this counts as appropriate for this subreddit!. Around ~August 2023, I suddenly started having random spikes/drops in my sugar levels, as well as fatigue and notable weight loss (40 pounds over 4 1/2 months). My previous PCP started the workup and over the next ~3 months, I was in and out of hospital admissions/countless doctor visits. Over this time I started to develop more symptoms, most notably night sweats, increasing GI issues, and worsening fatigue/tiredness.
Because the symptoms were mostly non-specific, I had pretty broad, general workups with few things off (my hemoglobin dropped several points in November then slowly recouped back to 15.5. Saw a hematologist and he basically just said "you had a bleed, it clotted off and now you're recovering. If it drops again come back to me"). Full body CT w/contrast, MRI of spine/brain, colonoscopy/endoscopy, spinal tap, echo, CPX, countless blood tests which I would fail to mention all of, but including endocrine/rheumatological and autoimmune markers, as well as viral potential causes.
At some point in December my gp basically threw his hands up and said "we don't have anything to work with, the few abnormal things are recovering". Fast forward to February, I end up in the ER with severe nausea and a dull pain below my lower left rib cage. They do a repeat CT and mention that my spleen is still "minimally enlarged" but there are no noticable masses, and my liver is "no longer slightly enlarged". These are two things I was never told about, I suppose because they felt they weren't significant enough? But made me realize I needed another opinion/better guidance. The radiologist also noted on the report that I had "mild haziness near the mesenteric root of the pancreas level", but "pancreas unremarkable otherwise" as well as normal lymph nodes in the area. He recommended checking for pancreatitis and/or mesenteritis.
I go into a new GP in March. She's fantastic - extremely thorough and importantly doesn't immediately try to blame this all on the easy things. She gets me into GI and hematology (had another GI doctor but she wanted me to get another opinion, as the old one basically said your colonoscopy/egd are normal, come back in 7 years). Hematology came first, and he basically said objectively, you acutely then chronically bled, used up all your iron stores which caused excess fatigue (fatigue/tiredness is still a primary issue for me but is substantially better than a month ago when I started iron supplementation) and now you're recouping. We can do a bone marrow biopsy or a PET scan, but I can tell you what they will show: nothing. I asked about the spleen/livemesentery involvement and he just said "your blood work and scans show no sign of a mass, if malignancy were making you this symptomatic, it would be more obvious and you wouldn't have seen any improvement. In addition your liver has reduced in size and your spleen is still barely enlarged with no signs of mass, malignancy doesn't act this way".
I leave the visit at least more optimistic about the situation, but still feeling awful and like this is some type of GI related malignancy that's killing me, frankly. (As a side note, symptoms became so problematic that I had to stop working full time which has obviously been another stresser during all of this).
Then the GI visit comes (about 2 weeks ago now at this point). We go over everything and he just basically says "let's skip the MRI and go for a pillcam to get a closer look at your small intestines, and an endoscopic ultrasound to take a closer look at your pancreas and this inflamed part of your mesentery". Sounds great to me! I know people go years looking for a diagnosis sometimes, but the last 8 months have been the most exhausting/stressful/longest of my life and he seemed adamant about getting to the bottom of this.
Here's where my concern/question comes in: back in December in my last hospital admission, the hospitalist asked what I thought this may be. I pretty quickly said PC, because of the way things progressed and the initial, non-specific symptoms + sugar issues (which seem to have mostly gotten better? I've also regained 30 pounds since, which is a "good" sign I know). He kind of laughed and just said "your pancreas has been imaged and looked at twice by two separate radiologists and neither saw anything to worry about" (this was before the February scan showing mesentery involvement). I kind of gave up on that idea/worry for a long time because of the assured way he answered my concern over it, but now I've got it in my head that that's what has been the culprit all this time and have been told CT's miss signs of PC pretty frequently, and the mesentery/spleen findings are a result of pancreatic tail or body involvement that's spread, which the GI did mention it was unlikely to be in the head as you'd almost certainly see bile duct involvement/jaundice evidence at this point, or the classic pale/clay stools, which I haven't had.
I know there is pretty strong evidence to this point to suggest it isn't a pancreatic tumor, given 3 contrast CT's now over 9 months with no sign of it, improvement in some symptoms (night sweats are virtually gone, fatigue is significantly better), some of the more obvious/common symptoms not being there, like the stool/jaundice, but instinctively this just feels like the right place to look. I'm not terrified of a diagnosis at this point, but I'm absolutely mortified that this is going to get worse before I have the chance to even figure out what it is because of the things that have continued to worsen (nausea/malaise in the morning especially, tiredness/dyspnea... Well, the dyspnea has improved since the iron supplementation as well, but considering I could get up and run five miles 9 months ago and now a small flight of stairs whip me...). The idea of losing ~6 months of valuable time if I'd pushed this concern harder back in December is also a hard pill to swallow. Speaking of, the pillcam is Thursday, and the EUS is the 28th. I tried to move it up but they are booked out (I feel like I they suspected pancreatic cancer they would have got me in sooner as well) and I don't want to push it anymore in the case that it isn't that, and I potentially take someone's spot that needs it before I do. I guess I'm asking for someone to talk me off this ledge and trust that something obvious wasn't missed, or even recommend I continue to push this as maybe it sounds like a familiar situation someone has witnessed in the past where it ended up being something like PC. I think I've mentally accepted almost every potential outcome of this situation except for that one, which likely has to do with me being intimately familiar with what it looked like in the end for a friend.
That was... Long-winded. Sorry, I tried haha. I wish you all the best of health moving forward!

Destructive capability is the amount you can destroy. For example, Sukuna’s fire arrow can wipe out entire cities.
Attack Potency is the potency of an attack. When Gojo used hollow purple back in goodwill it may not have destroyed a city but it's far beyond the power of most attacks even Ryu’s granite blast that would be able to destroy a town at least.
Destructive capability and attack potency can be the same but they can be very different. Especially considering the energy output of certain things, and the many many many different ways things our destroyed from vaporization, pulverization, etc. And things may not seem as visibility impressive as other feats but if you use math and calculate the feat then it could be potentially way higher.
And let’s use Yorozu for example. Her true sphere creates infinite pressure that’s high universal the pressure of the attack is truly infinite. It’s that potent. But it only leaves a small creator. That’s because attacks can be small and compact and don’t always reflect by city wide destruction. And also Yuji hasn’t shown the ability to destroy giant structures like a town or even building no more than a wall but does that mean Yuji isn’t above wall? Hell no. He is at least multi-city block level during the end of Shibuya via scaling to the destruction Mahito makes with body repel. Doesn’t mean he can create similar size destruction but his attacks are more compact and small in nature. Let’s use another example Kenjaku. His mini uzamaki are no bigger than a baseball yet they can blow a hole through a special grades stomach. I mean come on.

Growing as a Streamer: A Comprehensive Guide

1. Content Creation

Learning Editing

• Skill Development: Learn video editing basics to create engaging and concise content. Use tools like Adobe Premiere Pro, Final Cut Pro, or DaVinci Resolve. Watch popular videos, analyze them, and remix them.
• Highlight Reels: Create highlight reels from your streams, focusing on exciting moments, funny interactions, and key gameplay achievements.
• Educational Content: Share tutorials or how-to videos related to your niche. This not only attracts viewers but also positions you as an expert.

Crafting Jokes

• Natural Humor: Let humor flow naturally during streams. Engage with your chat, respond to their messages in a fun way, and share your genuine reactions.
• Prepared Content: Prepare a few jokes or funny stories beforehand that you can share during low-action moments in your streams.

2. Humor, Jokes, and Entertainment

Keeping your audience entertained and engaged is crucial for a successful streaming experience. Incorporating humor, jokes, and entertaining elements into your streams can help create a fun and memorable environment for your viewers. Here are some strategies to consider:

Developing a Comedic Persona

• Exaggerated Reactions: Respond to in-game events, viewer comments, or situations with over-the-top, exaggerated reactions that can be humorous for your audience.
• Catchphrases and Running Gags: Develop catchphrases or running gags that your audience can relate to and enjoy. These can become inside jokes within your community.
• Improv and Roleplaying: Embrace improvisational comedy and roleplaying scenarios, whether in-game or during interactions with your viewers.

Incorporating Humor into Your Content

• Comedic Editing: Use video editing techniques to create humorous clips, compilations, or highlight reels from your streams. Effective editing can amplify the comedic moments.
• Sketch Comedy: Prepare and perform short sketch comedy routines or skits during downtimes or transitions in your stream.
• Audience Participation: Involve your audience in creating jokes, participating in comedic segments, or contributing to humorous storytelling.

Maintaining a Fun and Entertaining Atmosphere

• Lighthearted Banter: Engage in friendly, lighthearted banter with your viewers or fellow streamers during collaborations. This can create a lively and entertaining atmosphere.
• Spontaneous Moments: Be prepared to capitalize on spontaneous, unplanned moments that arise during your streams and turn them into humorous or entertaining situations.
• Variety and Unpredictability: Mix up your content and gameplay to keep things fresh and unpredictable. Surprise your audience with new games, challenges, or segments to maintain their interest.

Finding Your Voice and Style

• Authenticity: While incorporating humor, it's essential to stay true to your authentic self. Forced or inauthentic humor can come across as disingenuous to your audience.
• Audience Feedback: Pay attention to the types of humor and entertainment that resonate most with your audience. Encourage feedback and adjust your approach accordingly.
• Continuous Improvement: Continuously work on developing your comedic timing, delivery, and material. Practice, experiment, and refine your skills over time.

3. Audience Engagement

Engaging with your audience is crucial for building a loyal and invested community. Social media platforms provide powerful tools for connecting with viewers, promoting your content, and fostering interactions beyond your live streams.

Active Posting on Social Media

• Platforms: Utilize popular social media platforms like Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook to share updates, clips, and behind-the-scenes content. Your choice of platforms should align with the demographics and preferences of your target audience.
• Consistency: Post regularly and maintain a consistent presence across your chosen platforms. This helps you stay visible and top-of-mind for your audience. Don't be afraid to share memes, thoughts, and engage with trending topics relevant to your niche.
• Interactive Posts: Create interactive posts such as polls, quizzes, or open-ended questions to encourage your followers to engage with your content. This can foster a sense of community and provide valuable insights into your audience's preferences.

Interacting with Others on Platforms

• Community Engagement: Actively engage with your audience on social media by responding to comments, sharing their posts, and participating in conversations. This level of interaction helps strengthen the bond between you and your viewers, fostering a sense of community and loyalty.
• Collaboration: Collaborate with other streamers or content creators in your niche for joint streams, podcasts, events, or even just hanging out in a voice chat together. These collaborations can introduce you to new audiences and provide fresh content for your existing viewers. Remember, other streamers are your co-workers, not your competition; working together can benefit everyone involved.

Effective audience engagement on social media requires a consistent effort and a genuine desire to connect with your viewers. By actively promoting your content, interacting with your community, and collaborating with others, you can build a strong and engaged audience that will support your growth as a streamer.

4. Community Building

Building a strong and engaged community is essential for long-term success as a streamer. A loyal and supportive community not only provides a consistent viewership but also creates a sense of belonging and shared experience for everyone involved.

Support Systems

• Genuine Support: Encourage genuine support within your community by promoting an environment where viewers engage with your content because they genuinely enjoy it, not because of follow-for-follow schemes or incentives.
• Education: Educate your community on the importance of mutual support and how fostering a positive and inclusive environment benefits everyone. Encourage viewers to share each other's content, engage in discussions, and provide constructive feedback.

Discord and Community Events

• Discord Server: Create a dedicated Discord server for your community. This platform allows for real-time communication, organization of channels for different topics, and sharing of exclusive content or behind-the-scenes information.
• Events: Host regular community events such as game nights, watch parties, or Q&A sessions. These events provide opportunities for your viewers to interact with you and each other, fostering a stronger sense of community and belonging.

Moderation and Guidelines

• Community Guidelines: Establish clear community guidelines that outline acceptable behavior, language, and interactions within your community spaces. These guidelines should promote respect, inclusivity, and a positive environment for all members.
• Moderation Team: As your community grows, consider building a team of trusted moderators to help enforce community guidelines, manage discussions, and handle any potential issues that may arise.

5. Personal Development

To achieve long-term success and growth as a streamer, it's essential to focus on personal development and maintaining a healthy mindset. This encompasses not only your on-stream persona but also your overall well-being and resilience.

Mindset and Energy

• Positive Attitude: Maintain a positive and energetic attitude during your streams. Remember, viewers tune in to be entertained and escape their daily stresses. Your positive energy can be contagious and contribute to an enjoyable experience for your audience.
• Avoid Negativity: Refrain from negative talk, self-pity, or complaining about lack of donations or viewer counts. Instead, focus on providing an exceptional experience for those who are present, and celebrate your achievements, no matter how small.

No Envy

• Focus on Growth: Avoid comparing yourself to other streamers or dwelling on their successes. Every streamer's journey is unique, and the key is to focus on your own growth and improvement.
• Celebrate Others: Celebrate the accomplishments and milestones of your fellow streamers. A supportive and collaborative mindset can create a positive community and keep you motivated on your own path.

Continuous Learning

• Stay Up-to-Date: The streaming landscape is constantly evolving, with new platforms, technologies, and trends emerging regularly. Stay up-to-date with the latest developments in your niche by following industry news, attending events, or participating in online communities.
• Skill Development: Continuously work on developing skills that can enhance your streams, such as video editing, graphic design, or even public speaking. Investing in your skills can lead to better content and a more polished overall presentation.

Work-Life Balance

• Time Management: Effective time management is crucial for balancing your streaming commitments with other aspects of your life. Set realistic schedules and priorities to avoid burnout.
• Self-Care: Make time for self-care activities that promote your physical and mental well-being, such as exercise, hobbies, or spending time with loved ones. A healthy work-life balance can help you maintain a positive mindset and avoid burnout.

Personal development is an ongoing journey that requires self-awareness, discipline, and a growth mindset. By cultivating a positive attitude, avoiding envy, continuously learning, and maintaining a healthy work-life balance, you can position yourself for sustainable growth and success as a streamer.

6. Practical Tips

In addition to the broader strategies and mindsets outlined earlier, there are several practical tips and best practices that can contribute to your growth and success as a streamer.

Streaming Setup

• Quality Equipment: Invest in quality audio and video equipment to ensure a professional-looking and sounding stream. This includes a good microphone, webcam, lighting, and a reliable internet connection.
• Optimized Settings: Take the time to optimize your streaming software and hardware settings for the best performance and quality. This may involve adjusting bitrates, resolutions, and other settings based on your internet speed and hardware capabilities.

Stream Presentation

• Professional Overlays: Create visually appealing and consistent overlays, alerts, and graphics that align with your branding and enhance the overall viewing experience.
• Engaging Webcam Presence: Position your webcam in a way that allows for natural and engaging interactions with your audience, while also ensuring good lighting and framing.

Content Repurposing and Discoverability

• Video Clips and Highlights: Regularly create and share video clips, highlights, or compilations from your streams on social media and video platforms. This can help attract new viewers and increase discoverability.
• Searchable Titles and Descriptions: Use relevant and descriptive titles, tags, and descriptions for your streams and video content to improve discoverability through search engines and platform algorithms.

Analytics and Feedback

• Data Analysis: Regularly analyze your stream analytics, such as viewer counts, engagement metrics, and demographic data, to understand your audience better and identify areas for improvement.
• Audience Feedback: Actively seek feedback from your viewers through polls, surveys, or direct communication. This valuable input can help you tailor your content and adjust your approach to better meet their needs and preferences.

Networking and Collaboration

• Industry Connections: Attend or participate in online events, conferences, or communities related to streaming and content creation. This can help you establish connections, learn from others, and potentially find collaboration opportunities.
• Cross-Promotion: Collaborate with other streamers or content creators in your niche for cross-promotion, joint streams, or guest appearances. This can expose you to new audiences and provide fresh content for your existing viewers.

By implementing these practical tips and best practices, you can enhance the overall quality and presentation of your streams, increase discoverability, gather valuable insights, and foster connections within the streaming community – all of which can contribute to your growth and success as a content creator.

7. Long-Term Goals

As you progress on your journey as a streamer, it's important to set long-term goals that align with your vision and aspirations. These goals can serve as guideposts, providing direction and motivation for your growth and development.

Expanding Your Content Offerings

• Diversify Your Content: Consider gradually expanding your content range beyond your primary focus to explore new genres, formats, or topics that resonate with your audience. This could include vlogs, podcasts, or delving into additional gaming genres or categories.
• Multimedia Content Creation: Explore opportunities to create multimedia content, such as video essays, documentaries, or even written materials like guides or e-books related to your niche. This diversification can attract new audiences and reinforce your expertise.

Building a Team and Infrastructure

• Assemble a Support Team: As your audience and workload grow, consider building a support team to assist with various aspects of content creation, community management, and administrative tasks. This could include hiring editors, moderators, or virtual assistants.
• Establish a Dedicated Workspace: Create a dedicated workspace or studio optimized for streaming and content creation. This could involve soundproofing, professional lighting setups, and investing in high-quality equipment and software.

Additional Insights

• Remember, streaming for excessively long hours (e.g., 10+ hours) can be counterproductive. It doesn't give your audience enough time to miss you and anticipate your next stream.
• Set SMART (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound) goals for your growth as a streamer. This could include targets for viewer counts, subscriber numbers, or content creation milestones.
• Stay Ahead of the Curve: The streaming and content creation landscape is constantly evolving, with new technologies and platforms emerging regularly. Stay informed about emerging trends, such as virtual reality, augmented reality, or cloud gaming, and be open to exploring and adapting to these new technologies.
• Experiment with New Features: Many streaming platforms introduce new features or tools regularly. Don't be afraid to experiment with these new features and find creative ways to incorporate them into your content, potentially offering a fresh experience for your viewers.
• Analyze Audience Data: Regularly analyze data and metrics related to your audience, such as demographics, viewing habits, and engagement patterns. Use this information to tailor your content and strategies to better align with their preferences and interests.
• Engage in Audience Outreach: Actively seek feedback and suggestions from your audience through surveys, polls, or direct communication channels. This input can provide valuable insights into what resonates with them and what areas you can improve or expand upon.
• Develop a Growth Mindset: Cultivate a growth mindset that embraces continuous learning and self-improvement. Be open to constructive feedback, and view challenges or setbacks as opportunities for growth and development.
• Set Achievable Milestones: Break down your long-term goals into achievable milestones or smaller steps. Celebrating these milestones along the way can provide a sense of accomplishment and motivation to keep pushing forward.

Perseverance and Resilience

• Manage Expectations: Understand that building a successful streaming career takes time, dedication, and perseverance. Set realistic expectations and be prepared for setbacks or periods of slow growth.
• Maintain a Positive Attitude: Cultivate a positive and resilient attitude, even in the face of challenges or disappointments. Your mindset and enthusiasm can be contagious and contribute to the overall experience for your viewers.

By embracing emerging technologies, fostering industry connections, adapting to audience preferences, embracing self-improvement, and developing perseverance and resilience, you can position yourself for long-term growth and success in the ever-evolving world of streaming and content creation.

Chips of rock flew away, taking the weapon’s edge with them. Ginendertha cursed the fact right before knocking away a spear thrust. For the first time in centuries she was well matched. For the first time, she could actually lose.
The thought of losing spurred her on, taking each of his strikes in stride. Realizing he had the greater strength, she weaved around them trying to make his spear obsolete.
Yet he recognized this and backed off. Every time she slid closer, he moved further away and jabbed at the woman. Packing more power to his attacks each time.
His surging thrust knocked her off balance, this time making her back away from his reach but he suddenly became as fast as her and flew at her with a leopard’s speed. The ax dropped from her numbing fingers, deftly snatching it with her other hand.
Blood flowed from her leg. She had forgotten the fact as she was still adjusting to her new body and became evident when she tried to move again. The longer she stayed in control the more she felt her wounds and fatigue. Not having a body in many years made it feel as new to her as if she had been a newborn.
Before his spear could connect with her flesh, a sonic boom blasted them both from their feet and crash down onto the cold, hard floor. ‘Why was it cold?’, she would’ve thought if she had the time. Pain flooded her leg. A single nudge brought down the dam she built in her mind.
Galakni got up quickly. He strained his eyes to see better in the dark but the darkness was impenetrable. Then he closed them and trained his ears to his surroundings. Apart from his opponent’s heavy breathing, there was the faint whistle of the wind indicating the way out and the withering tree that had not so long ago ascended him to godhood. There was a second voice, this one a shadow of the woman that it had been. This one breathed as heavily as Volra, but more out of hate than exhaustion.
Volra’s body was reaching its limit. Her muscles, already worn out from the constant fighting, pulsed from Galakni’s heavy pounding and cuts and scrapes from the many rocks in the floor. Ginendertha moved one arm and struggled against the overwhelming clubs of pain that slid in like molten magma. It was as if the body weighed as much as a thousand worlds. Nevertheless, she moved, slowly but surely, with one hand pushing down. Then the other. Pushing up, lifting the thousand worlds at her back. She heard his footsteps. She grabbed the broken ax and willed her aching feet towards him, slowly but surely.
Galakni braced himself when he sensed the other woman’s tension. Despite his quickness, the attack came out of nowhere, like a boulder rolling down from a steep hill the force of her charge knocked him to the ground. He knew this was not the assassin, so who was it?
With both bone and scaled fists gripping the haft, he fought hard to not let go, kicking desperately with all his strength at this opponent’s newfound power. The enemy avoided some kicks but slightly reeling from the others, pouring all her willpower into snapping teeth and raking against the stone haft imbued with the power of the gelatinous vortex once contained within the old tree. Neither tooth nor claw managed to disfigure the smooth surface of the Spear of Mof, for once it proved to be the spear of that great sorcerer.
Volra fought for control of her body. The Senerjai attacked her senses, the side effects warping her view of reality. An outsider would see that she was just struggling to get up from the stony ground but inside was so much more. Each breath took centuries, each heartbeat a decade, it seemed worlds would be born, then wither, then die as they both struggled for freedom.
‘This is my body! Leave me alone!’, she yelled within her at the ghost.
Ginendertha clogged her stomach and a purple cloud would spread across her intestines and take over her legs, ‘You’re too weak to survive. I have what it takes. You are but a speck of dust in this world but I can turn you to a shining gold’.
The Senerjai injected Volra’s mind with visions of her promises. Images of battles won, people crying out her name in glee, an army of leather clad men singing her praises in a foreign tongue while a tall, muscular man in bronze armor lifts a helmet from his head and mutters words of adoration and a proposal of marriage.
Volra did not know who the man was but could sense the ideas of world conquest and godhood that infected Galakni’s already venomous mind. Then she rejected it, knowing that it would mean betrayal of her own ruler, Tithra, and were so far beyond anything she ever wanted. Ginendertha tried everything. Showing her Tithra’s head on a platter, a bloody sword before the corpses of enemy tribesmen from the Kynha people, statues raised in her likeness, and her brother’s skull given to the shamans of the Overmountain. Ginendertha tapped into every memory she could reach to convince Volra to let her take control, yet a twinge of despair colored every attempt.
When the body recovered and dusted off her legs, carefully avoiding her wound, it was Volra who did it. Ginendertha said no more.
The assassin limped towards the sounds of Galakni fighting off Kiral. Ax in hand, she lifted it up and brought it down. When it loudly cracked she decided to slam it down a second time. Then a third. The blows grew weak until the very last one missed completely and hit the floor. An intense shudder felt up her arm.
She dropped the ax and fell down and felt no more.
When next she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but trees and singing birds. Reckoning that she was just outside the vicinity of the Overmountain, she breathed a sigh of relief despite the deep aching of her whole body. Pain lanced up at even the slightest movements and her limbs were too heavy to lift. Where was Kiral? Surely she was the one who dragged her out of the Path of Faith?
“Kiral?”, she said in a thin whisper. When there was no response she spoke out a little louder this time, “Kiral!?”, birds chirped and the susurrations of the winds rolled over her, “Kiraaaaal!”, she yelled after preparing for a few minutes.
She yelled three more times but to no avail. Giving no care as to whether surviving cultists or predators prowled nearby. Hoping against hope that her friend was not dead.
‘She isn’t dead. It only could’ve been her who took me out of that place’, she thought.
‘It was her, you fool. But the tree had changed her’, said Ginendertha inside her, ‘Don’t worry, it was common for new initiates to our order to run away once they saw how the powers changed them. It is a hard thing to adjust to the changes in your body especially when the changes are so significant’.
Volra willed her to shut up but it was no use. Though the Senerjai no longer had control over her body, her voice could still plague the assassin’s mind.
It was a trial to move but Volra managed it. First her arms then her legs. Wiggling them to get used to the pain and then increasing the movements by grabbing on to a nearby trunk and pulling herself up. Standing was the greatest challenge then for it meant an even more intense agony, the kind that she had not felt since first training under Noseraph. Without thinking, she took a direction and started walking. She was still breathing, and she had killed Galakni.

Hermione and Harry fall into the Veil by Anonymous
Summary
Harry and Hermione fall into the veil and start popping up in time. This can be just going back to their own time or their parents or somewhere further back.

Love fall through the veil plotlines as they all tend to be very wildly AU and imaginative! This one was submitted for the Harmony Summertime Madness Fest which has both Claiming and Posting open! Works are not due until July so you have plenty of time if you choose to participate!
One of my favorite fall through the veil fics is Rouch's Through the Veil, although this prompt is focused on time travel! (a favorite trope ❤️❤️❤️)
Here's a drabble for fun based on this prompt! Maybe someone will decide to take up the challenge and write it out completely! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione stumbled towards the screaming and snapping sound of spells as she clutched her side. Every movement sent a dull throb throughout her entire body from where Dolohov’s spell had hit her. She ignored the pain with a single-minded focus of finding and making sure one person was okay. The person she was determined to keep alive no matter how many times he ran straight into danger.
Perhaps that’s why she was the only one who reacted fast enough when disaster stuck. In a large open room, dozens of fights were going on, but none as flashy and vicious as between Sirius and his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius laughed as he fought his cousin, taunting her as they exchanged mortal curses. Sirius’ entire attention was on his dangerous and cousin and he didn’t seem to notice he was getting too close to an ominous stone arch in the center of the room. A veil drifted from the arch on a phantom wind-like ghostly fingers reaching out for those closest.
It all happened in slow motion. Bellatrix screeched in fury at Sirius’ latest taunt and snapped out a spell swifter than Sirius expected. He tried to dodge the jagged red curse, but he stumbled, and his arms pinwheeled as he tried to keep his balance and not fall backward through the arch. The veil flared hungrily as if sensing Sirius’ demise.
Harry ran forward, determination in every line of his body as he arrowed toward his godfather. He was going for Sirius. Hermione didn’t yell; she didn’t try to warn anyone. Instead, she ran as fast as she could to save Harry. To save both of them if she was lucky enough.
But she wasn’t the only one trying to save their best friend.
Harry latched on Sirius, yanking him forward just as Remus crashed into his back the momentum propelling Harry into the stone arch as suddenly he and Sirius switched. Hermione gasped as she saw the veil too close to Harry, the gossamer cloth brushing over his face, and stretched out her arm grasping the back of Harry’s shirt to try to haul him back, but he was too heavy.
With a whisper of sound, Harry and Hermione were pulled through while Remus and Sirius crashed backward onto the floor in front of the stone arch.
On the other side Hermione felt weightless, and it was hard to see as if a dense fog covered everything. The only thing she knew was that she had the fabric of Harry’s shirt grasped tight. Whispers in familiar voices echoed around her, too low to make out what they said.
She tried to yell or talk to Harry, but she wasn’t able to make a sound. A part of her wondered if she was dead or dying. It certainly didn’t feel as she thought death would. Would her hand still ache from her grip on Harry’s shirt if she was dead?
Time didn’t have any meaning. The fog could have lasted only seconds or could have lasted days. Hermione only had one point of reference, one sensation. Her hold on Harry.
An analytical part of her thought it was the only thing she could affect and so maybe she should let go and see what happened. But no. That was simply something she was never going to do.
So the stasis held, the whispers washing over her, floating in the grey fog.
Until…
But no…
Was that something different?
Was that change?
The whispers had sharpened. The fog had darkened, and the weightlessness was leaving her.
Her stomach somersaulted and suddenly she realized she was falling. She yanked with all her might on the shirt fabric she still had clutched in her hand and grunted when she slammed into something hard.
“Hermione!” someone was patting her face gently. “Hermione wake up.”
She woke up and groaned, rolling over and clutching her hand to her stomach. It felt like her fingers were broken. They ached so badly. Someone pushed at her insistently, talking and trying to grab at her hand.
“Shhh, shhh, I know it hurts. I have some dittany still in my pocket from Umbridge.”
At that familiar voice, she opened her eyes to see Harry above her, looking at her worriedly. “Harry? Harry!” She surged up, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tightly. “You’re okay!”
“I was a bit more worried about you, actually.” He said in a slightly strained voice from her chokehold, lightly patting her arms to get her to let go.
Hermione let go abruptly, looking around for the first time, noticing they were in an unfamiliar bedroom. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up here, and you were next to me holding my shirt.”
“We fell into that veil, I think,” Hermione said quietly.
Harry opened his mouth to reply but abruptly shut it as they heard voices approaching the closed door to the bedroom. Standing, he swiftly pulled Hermione to her feet, stepping in front of her as they both watched the bedroom door tensely. “Do you still have your wand?”
Hermione patted her pockets for a frantic second before locating her wand. Thank god for tethering charms. “Yes.”
“It doesn’t make sense. They would have been stupid enough to leave us with our wands if they meant us harm, but we need to get back to find out what happened to everyone.”
“Yes,” she repeated, agreeing as her hand tightened on her wand with only a slight ache after the dittany.
The bedroom door opened slowly, and they heard the humming of a lullaby first. A red-haired woman entered carrying an infant that was so small it must have been only hours old. “There, there now, love. I’m sure daddy is going to smush that silly old dog for laughing too loud and frightening you.”
Harry gasped, stumbling back into Hermione and squishing her against the wall.
“Wha–” Hermione’s question was choked off as the woman’s head snapped up, her wand appearing and pointing straight at them. It was the woman’s eyes that caught her. They were the same shade of green as Harry’s eyes.
The woman, however, had no such hesitation. Her spells snapped out lightning quick, disarming them and tying them up neatly with an incarcerous. She didn’t take her eyes off them as she raised her voice, yelling, “James! Sirius!”
​

Hello, I am just looking some other opinions.
My TSH is low, T4 free direct is low, and my T3 Free is on the higher side but still in normal range. Both my Thyroid Peroxidase Ab is negative and so is my Thyroglobulin Ab. I just had a Thyroid Uptake and Scan done today so I am waiting on those results. My provider is saying “subclincial hyperthyroidism” but I’m also concerned for “pituitary hypothyroidism”. I have had excessive weight gain this past year along with heart palpitations, excessive fatigue (I can sleep 15 hours straight), muscle aches, hair loss, can’t manage to control my food intake, etc. I would like to know some other people’s thoughts. Thank you!!

This can be deleted if inappropriate, I've been a long time lurker and honestly can't think of a more supportive and inclusive community that might lend some wisdom or affirmation to help me stay strong...
Creating boundaries as a homeschool survivor in the workplace as an adult is exhilarating and gut wrenching and has left me shaken. Like I've maybe made no progress at all in the last two decades.
I was the firstborn (and only) daughter in a fundamental Christian home by a covert narcissist mother who was the ultimate saint and victim and a traditionally narcissistic father who was absent unless he needed a punching bag, a role my brothers played.
Maintaining the peace and regulating everyone's emotions was an internalized responsibility I understood to be mine by age 7. A large part of my homeschooling involved cooking, cleaning, and parenting my two younger brothers who had gender roles of intolerance and head of household lessons of their own to learn. My younger brother backhanded me for the first time for mouthing off at ten, and I ended up asked to apologize for upsetting him with my attitude problems. For simply having opinions I was the problem child, the sinner. Long story short, lifetime conditioning that keeping people happy and changing myself to keep the peace is fully engrained.
I grew up, broke away, joined the military and thrived, then went to college for political science and then psychology, desperate to understand myself and those around me. I've virtually no contact with anybody in my family, and usually have pretty good personal boundaries. Or thought so.
New job, high stakes, first one that gives me confidence and a sense of fulfillment, the team overall has been amazing, professional, supportive, and doesn't play games. But there are two people that have bearing on this story.
My direct supervisor is a well-meaning but fairly absent and political creature. Highly intelligent, but more interested in everybody getting along than dealing with conflict. He assigned me a trainer when I first started.
She is a master manipulator who pushes all the DARVO, gaslighting, sweet as pie to your face and poison behind your back type who sees me as a pet and personal assistant rather than a coworker who mastered the job quickly and the more independent I become, the more diminishing, controlling, and manipulative she becomes. I almost instantly fell into good daughter behaviors even when I was fully aware I was doing it because she had power over when I could work on my own, even while knowing she was dragging it out because I could do her work as training.
Today she took over a conference I was supposed to be leading, a key step in progressing to being fully qualified, and she took every chance to discredit me in front of my team in the guise of remedial training I don't need and pushing buttons like implying I'm lazy or inattentive or shirking responsibilities.
Enough was enough, I sought advice from a coworker I trust and went to my boss with my concerns. I was articulate, I stood up for myself, let my work and credentials speak for itself. I requested a new trainer. His response was to joke about the honeymoon being over, promised to talk to her. Nothing will be changed except now she'll know I complained. Experience has taught me that "telling" is bad for me.
On the one hand, I'm an HR professional, I know that he can't discuss another employee without talking to them and there are a lot of steps between disciplinary or personnel action from a first complaint (that should have happened weeks ago if I'm being honest). On the other, life experience is viscerally guaranteeing me that I have just made a colossal mistake and that telling on "mom" to "dad" will only result in him brushing it aside and her raining hell on my daily life. I'm caught between being proud for finally standing up for myself, setting professional boundaries, knowing I've done nothing wrong, and anticipating the myriad of ways this could catastrophize. I'm sick to my stomach and that's after taking lorazepam to ward off the panic attack my actions have caused.
I'm expected to go sit in that conference with her again tomorrow. I don't trust her, can't learn from her, needed support and help, and I didn't get what I asked for. Seems like the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Maybe there's movement in the background he can't divulge. But all I see right now is I don't have the confidence I'll be able to comport myself professionally if she's confrontational or acts hurt or sweet and gaslights me tomorrow into thinking I imagined it all, or that I'm crazy or being the manipulative one. I'm that damaged, it might just work. What the hell do I do with that? How do I go to work tomorrow, head held high? Can I even?
Any advice from people further along in their journey would be greatly appreciated. I feel very alone and pathetic at the moment, and frustrated with myself for feeling that way.

Hello, I am just looking some other opinions.
My TSH is low, T4 free direct is low, and my T3 Free is on the higher side but still in normal range. Both my Thyroid Peroxidase Ab is negative and so is my Thyroglobulin Ab. I just had a Thyroid Uptake and Scan done today so I am waiting on those results. My provider is saying “subclincial hyperthyroidism” but I’m also concerned for “pituitary hypothyroidism”. I have had excessive weight gain this past year along with heart palpitations, excessive fatigue (I can sleep 15 hours straight), muscle aches, hair loss, can’t manage to control my food intake, etc. I would like to know some other people’s thoughts. Thank you!!

Basically this debate is I'm having trouble trying to decide which work should go to My OC, my character is going to go to UA but he was going to be in general studies, the reason being is that he wants to be a fighter not a hero. So I need your help deciding which of these three quirks should my character get in order to help him in his fighting?

1. Interia

• Type: Emitter
• Description: This allows the user to control the inertia of themselves and objects they hold or touch. This will ask them great ability to be able to use throwing moves one people that use excessive force and be able to throw other people by increasing their inertia. This also allows them to more easily parry heavy blows.

1. Magic Touch

• Type: Mutant
• Description: This allows the user to flawlessly manipulate their arms and hands, allowing them to use great flexibility and precision when using these limbs.

1. Torque

• Type: Emitter:
• Description : Allows the user to increase the force their body outputs when it generates torque, a twisting force that causes rotation. Using this the user can accomplish a variety of different feats. One of which is being able to create a short range wind pressure attack. The others by using torque correctly they can increase their running speed and in the case of combat amplify the force of their punches they can generate. For example: if trained enough, the user can generate enough power to knock someone unconscious using only the strength of their upper body. In addition this gives their arms and limbs extreme flexibility. This gives them great affinity for using Rasha's palm and/or Soles.

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A few weeks ago, I posted about my frustrations with the animation industry. It was poorly written and missing many details. I have also taken more time to think over your advice and now need more. I am using a separate account btw. I
I've wanted to be in the animation industry ever since watching Spider-Verse and Avatar: The Last Airbender. Not necessarily as an animator, but possibly as a concept artist or storyboard artist. I aspire to create shows that can impact young people like me.
However, everything changed when I worked on my portfolio for animation schools. I experienced burnout and lost a lot of my joy and enthusiasm. It was emotionally taxing, and I began to doubt whether I could handle the demands of the industry on a daily basis. Consequently, I opted to attend a regular university and pursue a standard degree. I'm currently studying international relations, a fascinating but not particularly lucrative field unless I choose to pursue law, which I've considered. Although my university does offer an animation program, it requires numerous prerequisites before students can learn animation. Despite possessing other skills—I could potentially excel as a lawyer or construction manager—I can't shake the feeling that I would be wasting the talents given to me by God. My passion for visual storytelling is something I can't let go of, and I fear that if I don't produce animations or write and draw comics for the world to see, I will have wasted my life. Perhaps if I create a successful comic, it could be adapted into animation like Invincible, but even that presents its own set of challenges.
The animation industry appears to be ailing, or at least losing its allure. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of spending all day on a computer or working on uninspired movies or TV shows. Corporations often overwork employees, resulting in the production of mediocre content. While I've heard stories of animators being overworked on projects like Spider-Verse, some still find it worthwhile because the end product is of high quality. However, much of the industry now seems focused on sequels or streaming shows. Although many streaming shows are of good quality, I'm skeptical about their long-term profitability. People pay for the service, not necessarily the individual shows, which can lead to lesser-quality content like Velma receiving second seasons despite low viewership or reception. Additionally, good shows are frequently canceled.
I'm also developing a phobia of technology. Spending excessive time on a computer has led me to believe that hand-drawn paper animation is becoming obsolete. I recall taking a summer animation course at an art school and disliking animating with a computer; it felt devoid of tactile sensation and made me feel like a cog in a machine. Much of the industry's creativity has been flattened, leaving me feeling despondent.
I want to live a life where I can maintain my upper-middle-class family lifestyle, but I'm also a man driven by passion. However, with the cost of living increasing, I fear that sacrifices may be necessary. If I were to become an economic refugee, I worry that I wouldn't possess any useful skills to transfer to other countries. Unlike others, I can't solely rely on financial motivations; otherwise, I would have pursued a career as an accountant or engineer. Additionally, I've found that I'm not interested in exclusively associating with artistic individuals; I value friendships with people from various backgrounds, including those studying to become accountants, journalists, or scientists.
I've already sold my iPad Pro and gaming computer, leaving me without equipment. However, I'm considering giving it another try. Perhaps I should explore options like CGMA or Animation Mentor. My parents encouraged me to attend college because they believed it would provide better industry connections, and while they were right, I also find it to be expensive and overrated.
How can I keep my passion for visual storytelling alive and productive as the world economies change?

Hey all, currently in cycle 2 of 4 xEP for stage 2B seminoma. I’ve always suffered from GERD/stomach problems and the chemo has created a field day for my gut biome which actually landed me in the hospital for a few days during cycle 1.
Outside of the standard tips like smaller, more frequent meals, has anyone dealt with similar symptoms during treatment and found anything for relief? I keep acid reducers, zofran & baclofen on standby but I still can’t quite get my stomach to ever feel settled or relaxed.