Dear Reddit community,
I need some relationship life advice.
I (23 female) am currently involved with a 27 (male) partner. I love him and he loves me, but I often wonder if our relationship is worth continuing. Half the time we are each others' best friend and lovers and we get along amazingly... however the other half of the time we argue over the stupidest things and the arguments go round and round in circles for a while (and I'm not joking, we argue SO fucking much). To give an example, just this past weekend I drove up to see him as well as celebrate his friends' family visiting from South America (we are long distance) and on the car ride there, I ask if we are staying in his motorhome he has there. He wouldn't give me a straight answer and I was wanting to know so that 1) we could save money instead of going to a hotel 2) we wouldn't have to worry about checkout times 3) I wanted to know where the hell I was driving to! Instead of giving me a straight answer about why he preferred to stay at a hotel, he went round in circles and got upset that I was asking. We eventually figured that argument out and it turns out he didn't want to stay in the motorhome because he still needed to clean it and he didn't want to welcome me in that kind of environment (the next day we went to his motorhome so I could help him organise).
That same night when we're celebrating his friend and her family, he starts smoking his friend's vape and is attached to it pretty much the whole night. Obviously it is his choice what he does with his body, but it sucks when your partner tells you he quite vaping/smoking and then as soon as he has the opportunity he picks it right back up again and blames his friends for his vaping problem. The group was playing some fun Brazilian music to dance to, and so I go up to my partner to ask him to dance with me and I playfully try to push the vape away from his hand (he was just sitting there vaping). I didn't slap his hand, I didn't forcefully take it away from him, I wasn't disrespectful in anyway - I was just trying to be playful and was hoping he would put it down and dance with me. I allowed my expectations to upset me. I was expecting/hoping that he would put it down and dance with me. Instead, he was like "not now babe" and reaches for another hit of nicotine. I got upset by this because we haven't seen each other in over a month, we only have a few hours together, and first he gets weird/upset about the motorhome thing and then it feels like he chooses spending time with the vape over dancing with the person he calls the love of his life. (and maybe I am overreacting with this particular situation, it just hurts watching him hurt his health like that then blame his friends and it feels like my partner has no self control when it comes to that kind of stuff).
That was Friday. On Sunday morning, his alarm went off at 6 am which of course also woke me up. He started getting up/moving around/making a bunch of noise, and I try asking him what's going on. No response. I ask again and I ask "Do we really need to be awake at 6?" because in my mind his flight back to his state isn't until the afternoon and I was the one taking him to the airport so do I need to start getting ready too?? like why are you up so early? can you please explain what is happening? Like the motorhome situation - in which he would not clearly explain what was going on - he just got mad at me saying I was tripping about the alarm and that I shouldn't ask him questions in that kind of tone of voice (what tone of voice?!?!?). He just started getting so upset that I asked if we needed to be up at that time and I was so confused by his response because it really didn't seem fair to me. When he got back in bed I did not want to be touched by him - I was so sad that I feel like I can't even ask my partner simple questions without him getting upset. He tried to go on explaining why I shouldn't ask questions like that and justifying his response. I get first thing in the morning after not much sleep people can be a little cranky, but dude to tell me I'm tripping and then evading my one question/getting defensive? not cool to me. After it's clear I'm not buying his response, he apologises and asks me to forgive his reaction, which I do and we're back to being fine. That day before dropping him at the airport, we drop off some his clothes we organised at the donation centre and then he realises he can't find his car or motorhome keys. so we spend the whole time before the airport with me driving him around to various locations to find his keys, we search my whole car, he has me search my entire bag... we can't find the fucking keys anywhere. But we were both like, no worries, they will show up somewhere. And we had a good time about it. No arguments, no complaints, he was grateful that I was helping him with his shit.
The next morning I find them in my car and I send him a picture with "omg babe, guess what I just found!" and instead of being relieved/happy that I found them, he BLAMES ME for not having seen the keys before. to be clear, I never once touched his motorhome keys. I had no idea until Sunday morning that we would even be looking for them. He blames ME for HIM losing HIS keys. I wouldn't take that shit from him. Then he went on saying that I need to "centre myself," that he has a right to feel the way he does blah blah, and sure he has a right to feel whatever he desires, but he has no right to blame me for anything! especially after I spent a good amount of time and fuel helping him do things he should've figured out on his own a long time ago and it is so easy to ship him the keys. not a big problem at all. and when I sent the key picture, he had a New York bottle opener on the keychain, and I was like "oh cool! Have you been to New York??" with the intention of getting to know my partner better - I think it's could he potentially took a trip there and I was asking in a light hearted way and his response (over voice message) was a sarcastic "yeah babe, I go there every weekend." Again, I don't understand this response. I don't understand why my question was so bad and why he felt like avoiding it? Maybe he was stressed about the whole key situation/ feeling jet lagged from the flight. But still. it sucked. I basically told him that I wouldn't take this shit from him that he cannot blame me and not take ownership of his own shit.
I just don't understand. I also have such a hard time leaving him. I tried before in the past - I felt pressured to move to Florida with him; he talked a lot about moving into together, having kids, etc etc and it was just moving too fast for me and I felt like I needed to leave because I can't give those things to him right now and it's not fair if that is something he wants and for me to stay in the relationship wanting different things at the moment. He convinces me to stay with him, saying he can wait for those things, but doesn't want to lose me. I stayed.
I'm just sooooo tired of these arguments! I'm tired of feeling like I can't ask basic questions without him getting upset. I'm tired of being made out to be the bad guy when I'm clearly not at fault. I'm tired of feeling like I acquiesce to him. I sometimes feel like he needs me more than I need him and I don't want to be his mother cleaning up after him/keeping track of his shit and then getting blamed when I don't know where HIS things are.
And we have silly arguments like this so much in the past too. I feel like maybe I'm deluding myself thinking that when we are together for longing periods of time that we won't argue so much - that it's the stress of travel that causes us to bicker. or that I'm holding on to the really good parts of the relationship where we make each other laugh so hard and we can meaningful conversations. I worry that if we do someday have kids that they won't be able to come to him without him getting upset/weird/non-communicative. *sigh* what do I do? I know I just talked about the arguments of this past weekend so this post feels a little biased. But I feel stuck. Part of feels like maybe I should leave him, but the other part of me sticks it out. Am I secretly addicted to the drama? Or maybe I don't have a strong enough will

In my youth, a few decades ago, I met an only boy a few years older than me, in his early twenties named Tyler at a coffee shop. He drove a blue wrangler and was smoking cigarettes in the village with a friend at the only coffee shop in the early foggy morning. I think I may have bummed a cigarette on my way out the door with my americano and began to make conversation. Tyler had just drove from Seattle and boasted of his time back to get his friend home to Carmel Valley. We started talking about music, my favorite band was Modest Mouse. His was some one I’ve never heard of. He was very cool. Plump but cool. He’s seen modest mouse on the Lonesome Crouded West tour. Brock drank whiskey out of a plastic water bottle. Rebel. Then he told me another story.
Tyler had gotten busted for something illegal which I’ve forgotten now, but had gone before a judge and sentenced to a lot of community service. More than 100 hours. I don’t remember what it was but it wasn’t anything serious. More like what a normal adolescent who was unlucky enough to get caught was issued. At the time he lived just north of San Francisco and was given options to what his services would be. Tyler chose trail maintenance. Tyler worked for weeks. It was summer and was home with his parents waking up at dawn, grabbing breakfast and lunch at the local Safeway before heading to the hills to clear trails for 10 hours. Going home exhausted.
One morning Tyler saw an old man outside the grocery store, looking very tired. It was close to 5am. He approached the old man and offered to buy him a sandwich. The old man said he would very much like a sandwich. Returning with the food the old man asked what Tyler was doing that morning and Tyler explained that he was maintaining a broken trail that was high in the mountains close by. The old man seemed interested in this answer and offered to help for another sandwich and some beer to which Tyler obliged even though alcohol was a violation of parole. But Tyler was a rebel and wasn’t directly supervised once on the trail he was working, so he got another sandwich and a few tall cans and rode away with the old man to the hills.
Tyler told me the old man took direction well and ran off with a few tools and worked all day. He made sure the man had done what he asked throughout the day and was pleasantly surprised to see he was a good worker. They took lunch, drank their beers, worked for a few more hours and at the end of the day, the two hiked back to the blue Jeep Wrangler and headed back.
Tyler asked the old man direction to where this seeming homeless man wanted to be dropped off. Expecting a bridge or over pass. The old man didn’t give an address but immediate signals, left here, right here, straight here. The house style was passing slowly got bigger. Gates more decorative. The cars that passed were nicer.
“This guy must have a nice camping spot” Tyler told me. His suspicion never alerting.
The old man pulled up to a gate with a touch pad. Pretty fancy in 2000. The old man pressed the code. The gate opened.
A long driveway. A big house in trees. The mad shows Tyler into his house. Tyler is astonished. It beautiful. The old man leads Tyler into a library, there are gold records on the wall. He studies a few and the old man gets settled, fiddling with things. Bits and bops.
All the records say: Tom Waits
Tyler looks at the man. The man stairs back with a smile as he opens a floor to ceiling cabinet full of liquor bottles.
“I hope you like whiskey” he says with a smile.
Tyler expresses that before this day he had listened to Tom waits but hadn’t seen or noticed a picture or the man. His recollection of the night that fallowed was also hazy. Or he didn’t think my reaction was merit enough to continue the story. He slept on the couch in the study and woke up at dawn to go work trails.
I never saw Tyler again.
Are there more stories like this out there?

Hi guys! This is my first time posting here and i need your opinions. Me and my MM have been together for a little over 2 years now and since then i’ve celebrated my birthdays with him (even if it was one week later). We don’t really date because it’s hard to find an opportunity(or so he says) only when it’s my birthday and one other time last year. My birthday is coming up in a week and i kept mentioning it to him for about a month now that i wanna celebrate it with him and it’s also the perfect opportunity because we both would be free that day… or so i thought. Today when i asked him again about it he told me that “he’s not sure” and that “he doesn’t think it’s possible “ because he has lots of meetings next week including that day and that he can’t just cancel because “it would seem weird if he would cancel meetings just to hang out with friends”(his excuse for when he’s meeting with me). The thing that bothers me is that the week after that one (on the day that we’re both free)he has another bday celebration and he can’t miss that one even though it’s 2h30min away(5 hrs driving in total) and the week after that one he planned meetings again on the same day we’re both free( he works 6 days a week so we can only meet on a particular day). But what bothers me is that i asked him what if he had meetings on the day with the other bday and he said he would cancel them even though “they’re really important and can’t really postpone them” so then why can’t he do that for my birthday or why did he even plan them when he knew it’s the only day we could actually go out together. It just hurts me that i’m not a priority to him … He told me when he can find an opportunity we will do smth and that’s all he can tell me…and that’s probably gonna be a month from now at least, but that’s not celebrating my birthday… Do you think it’s right for me to feel upset?
PS. I know it seems like i make a big fuss about my birthday and that I should’ve known what I signed up for but tbh i never cared about celebrating my birthday before him, but he’s special to me and i just wanna spend it with him and have fun together …it’s also the only times we actually went out on dates so i was expecting it. How would you guys feel?
Thank you for reading all of this

Rape is Funny if you have an advanced or a distinct sense of humor. it can be used as a plot device or punchline in comedic situations. There are many forms of comedy that rely on taboo subjects such as death, disability, or tragedy. Just because something is considered taboo doesn't mean it can't be used for comedic effect. In fact, often times the most effective comedians use these types of topics to create laughter through shock value or irony. So, while some may find rape jokes offensive, others may see them as another form of edgy humor that pushes boundaries but who fucking cares.
Also, there are instances where rape jokes could maybe serve as a way to challenge societal norms For example, comedian Louis C.K. has been criticized for his use of rape jokes, but he has also been praised for using his platform to to make people laugh & entertain folks. By using humor to tackle difficult topics, he has opened up conversations that might not otherwise happen. Finally, just because someone finds rape funny does not necessarily mean that they’re a rapist themselves.
Comedy is subjective and people will always have different opinions on what is funny but this is my argument on why rape could be funny.
stacks - “rape funny as hell. Rape is funny. You know why rape is funny? cause like, imagine a nigg-, Imma put this in your brain, imagine a big ass black guy just grabbing a girl by her neck and just raping her and she's like, “Oh, get off me😖, oh stop, stop🥺🙏”
That is funny as shit. I would die laughing. I would be crying laughing.
If a bitch just get raped in front of me, my nigga, you think I'm gonna help? No, I'm gonna be laughing too much. I will laugh so much. I'm not even gonna help the bitch get raped.
But a bitch getting raped is funny as shit. Tears coming down her eyes, “STOP, get off me, what are you DOING😖😫? AH, fucking stop it😖”. She's looking back at him and, Bro, that is hilarious.
Nigga that is the funniest shit on earth. If you ever watch a bitch get raped in front of you, nigga that is comedy. You can't get no better than that. You CAN’t get no better than that. That's funny as shit.
look, if a nigga raped that right there, you seen that ugly bitch? If a nigga even raped that, that'd be even funnier. That'd be hilarious cause she's ugly. Now she making an ugly face while she getting raped. Hey🥴, get off me,😫 wat awre u duUig🥴? “
You know what I'm saying? That should be hilarious. Nigga, I'll be crying. Nigga, I'll be in tears, nigga. On, GOD, I'll be in tears. That's the type of that's the type of comedy I want in my life. I want real comedy, man.
That shit, man. Real comedy is a bitch getting raped on all fours. That's funny, nigga. That is funny.”

My ex-fiance (38M), we'll call him John and I (30F) met 8 years ago. We both came into the relationship with kids from previous marriages but did our best to blend our family. I thought I knew what love was before him but he taught me what love really was. You know, that kind of love that when you think about it your heart hurts but in the best way possible. During the few years we were together we had broken up and gotten back together twice, but every time we came back stronger than before. During that time we got engaged, and even though we had our issues we were happy. When we hit our 7 year anniversary I thought this was it. We had made it through deaths of those close to us, medical issues, issues with family and COVID. If we could make it past all of that, past the 7 year itch it we were meant to last.
During those 7 years I had been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder on top of my already crippling depression and anxiety, and God bless him for sticking it out with me while I was adjusting to all of those medications. I know I was an absolute mess during that time. But January of 2023 I started having a lot of strange symptoms that caused me to spiral. I eventually made a doctors appt and was referred to Neurology for possible MS. After a negative MRI I was referred to Pulmonology for a sleep study for Narcolepsy which I thought for sure was a waste of time and money, but I'd do whatever I needed to do to find out what the hell was wrong. Everything had caused us to fight more than we had in years and I was ready to get back to our normal. Unfortunately I had to wean myself off of all my medications for the sleep study which was by far the hardest month, but eventually got diagnosed and sure as shit I have Narcolepsy.
My medical team and I decided it best to stay off of my medications until we found a narcoleptic medication that would work. Through all of this I tried my hardest to let him know how I was feeling so we could at least know that there would be light at the end of the tunnel at some point. After months of trying new medications and dealing with the absolutely horrible side effects I found a medicine that seemed to be working. Because it can cause adverse reactions to just about everything, they didn't think that getting back on my other medications would be safe. (I have to check every OTC medicine I take with the manufacture to make sure it won't cause any issues, which I follow religiously since taking an antibiotic sent me to the ER already).
We hit a wall in September and decided therapy would be our last ditch effort to make our relationship work, the fighting had gotten so bad that we didn't know if we could keep going the way we were. We made it 2 sessions in before we had a huge blowout and both said we just needed to call it quits. It took me about a week before it sunk in and then it hit my like a freight train. I went from being sad to spending most of the day in tears and sobbing myself to sleep. During that time he moved into the guest room and I stayed in our bedroom to give us some distance until I could move out. He went on a trip to think and get away while I was in that house reliving every good memory we had had there. After he got back I broke down and begged him to work things out, I knew I loved him and didn't want to think of my life without him. I had gotten to the point that I had planned to end my life because a life without him wasn't one I wanted. So fucking selfish on my part because I'd be leaving my kids without a mom. He kept saying that we couldn't make it work and we just needed to move on. As hard as it was, I tried to accept it and shut myself off emotionally to get through it.
I eventually was able to find an apartment that would keep my kids in their schools and with their friends. My moving date was mid-November and I slowly started packing, getting rid of things I couldn't take with me since I needed to downsize and buying the necessities to start over. The night before my move he told me he wanted to work things out and not to leave. All I remember was being so damn angry that he waited until everything was paid for, rented and packed. As much as I still loved him I knew I needed to leave. We decided that we would try and see if we could work things out living apart, maybe that was what we needed. Some space to just get our heads in order. It didn't last long. I was so angry that he would wait until I was out the door to decide he wanted to work things out. After I had spent weeks begging him to work things out. I just couldn't see past my own anger, I wasn't ready to forgive him.
Around mid-January 2024 we started talking again and even though I knew I wasn't in a good headspace I decided to try and work things out due to his insistence. During that time he re-proposed but I just couldn't feel the same as I did before. I knew that I loved him, through it all I never stopped and said he was the love of my life and would be until the end. Despite that it lasted until the last week of February. I drove to his house with the ring in it's box and told him I just couldn't do it. I knew that I had broken him, but I couldn't see it working. As hard as I tried I couldn't picture us, even my own future. I was just so lost.
A couple of weeks later it clicked that everything I had been going through was my bi-polar rearing it's head, unmedicated and in full force. I was so erratic, going through the worst manics I had experienced, the depression and anxiety had gotten almost unbearable and the thoughts of suicide had gotten so bad that I didn't think I'd make it. I had pushed everyone I loved away and isolated myself from the world. I felt numb inside. Despite the risks I went in and got back on the medication I needed so fucking badly to survive.
During that time John and I started talking and seeing each other. I hadn't told anyone else about getting back on my medications and he had been there when I started them the first time. So who would be better at helping me through it than him? I made it abundantly clear that I wasn't ready for anything. I needed to work on my mental health and get to a good place before I could give to anyone. But if he was still around by the time I was in that good place mentally and he still wanted me, I would be all in. We would set a date and get married. No more dating, being engaged for years again, it would be marriage and till death do we part. Throughout that time he assured me that if he was still around and wasn't seeing anyone by then he would be all in as well. We both loved each other more than anything, I just needed to be ok.
During one of our conversations I told him I was close to being better but I wasn't 100% there yet, but he was the one. When he told me that I didn't need to be perfect, because my mental health would never be perfectly in check. I knew I was well enough that I could say that I was ready to be with the love of my life. I finally started to feel again, like everything I stopped feeling had been held behind a wall and it just came crashing down, flooding me with every last emotion I had suppressed. I told him I was sure and ready to move towards our forever. Once I did it was like a switch had flipped. He said he wasn't sure that I really knew what I wanted and that he needed time to figure things out before he could give me a solid answer. That was almost a month ago. We still talk and see each other but he says he is still trying to figure out if he can be sure that I'm all in.
I refuse to beg him to be with me, I've done it before and won't to do it again. I know I love him more than anything. I still get butterflies when I see him and my heart hurts so damn much when I think about how much I love him. I keep telling myself that he's going through a lot, and needs time and I need to be patient. But part of me feels like he's punishing me for breaking his heart in February. I'm at a loss. I'm hurt that after all of this time and all of those conversations we're in this state of limbo. Do I wait and hope that he eventually figures out whatever he needs to figure out or do I just give him space and cut off the daily communication and hope that one day he'll tell me that he wants to move forward?

How do you process your s/o looking at other women?
I’ve always envied women who don’t bat an eye at their man looking at another woman. I understand that men think differently and the women they look at don’t mean anything to them. I know I can look at an attractive man and it has no meaning to me, but for some reason when I see my boyfriend look at the cocktail waitress or another beautiful girl I can’t handle the way it makes me feel. We’ve had 1 or 2 conversations regarding this and I explain that I see married men check me out regularly and I find it so repulsive and more so humiliating for their wives. Even so, I’ve seen him look maybe without even realizing.
For more context, he’s not a words of affirmation type of person. I know he loves me very much and he shows me this with his actions but he does not compliment me. I want to say it’s been over a year since he said I look pretty? Again, something I’ve addressed many times but I think it contributes to how I feel about him giving other physically attractive women attention. I’m generally a very confident person and this side of me wasn’t brought out until maybe 2 years into our relationship. It causes me to resent him, not want to go out, and seek validation from others. I feel a little humiliated asking for advice on this but I’d love some insight on other users mindsets or how I should think about it? Mens opinions are also valued! I feel like I need another perspective.

I guess I'm just looking for some guidance since I don't know who to turn to. My family lives in another country and so it's just me and my thoughts. Sorry for the long story. Please be kind. Thank you for reading and helping.
So I (32F) have been in a commited relationship with my boyfriend (38M) for over a year and we've been living together for a few months. He has a now 3.5 year old son who I met very early in this relationship. His son had a lot of bad temperment issues but I feel he's gotten better. I'm sure it was very confusing for a toddler and now he seems to be getting use to the dynamic/split weekends. My boyfriend and his ex weren't married and only knew eachother for a very short period of time before she "accidentally" got pregnant. Tbh (and I did my best to be objective) it very much sounds like she "trapped" him. He has a very good career and she's around 10 years younger than he is, working a dead end job when they met. He didn't want to have a child with her - she chose to keep it - they tried to stay together for the baby - got engaged - but in the end their relationship was very tumultuous and they split up when his son was 2.5 years old. He financially supports his son more than I feel is reasonable and she gets a chunk of change too that I don't think is fair but I also don't think it's my place to really comment on. Even though I don't say anything it doesn't mean it doesn't bother me. I ask for nothing, am successful, and my own earnings are more than enough to live pretty comfortably. But I wouldn't mind being treated or made to feel special every now and then. I hate to admit it but I think I've developed some jealousy (?).
My issue is that I don't know how to feel about the situation now. As we've gotten more serious I really wish he didn't have a kid. I actually like his son, I play with him, buy him things, and have no ill-feelings towards him. He has grown on me and he's very fond of me too. Unfortunately everything is starting to feel less special as I creep closer to wanting to start my own family. My boyfriend wants to get married in the very near future and he really wants to have a baby with me. I'm an only child and always wanted an older brother so I thought it would be nice for my baby to have an older bro (I don't imagine having more than 1 baby). Plus, I'm extremely inexperienced with babies so it might be helpful that my boyfriend has experience. But, I'm having 2nd thoughts about this whole situation now.
I'm scared it won't feel special or sacred... it'll be my first but not his... the whole idea of being tethered to another woman I don't necessarily hate in any way but I would never want to have long term contact with any of my significant other's exes... there's going to be this weird competition between how her child and my child turns out (his family gives that vibe)... His parents will favor their first born grandchild and pity him due to the circumstances... the grandparents already spoil and treat him in ways I personally dont agree with... Again, I feel I cannot say anything and they'll feel it's not my place to comment on it so I'm stuck. I'm also so bothered by the idea of growing a baby for a man that another woman already grew a baby for. Even though it wasn't his intention I'm so put off by the idea. Makes me feel like rubbish and like left-overs... im starting to feel embarrassed and weirdly ashamed that I somehow let my family and myself down because I didnt find my own man who hasn't already had a baby with another woman, like somehow I'm a failure. I'm first generation Asian so it's a pretty taboo situation. And what if he leaves me and my baby too? My head is going to explode.
Is it wrong that I want my future husband to myself? I feel so damn selfish and disgusted with myself about these intrusive thoughts. Family is sacred to me and so special, especially since my upbringing was very rocky between my parents. I dream about having a beautiful family unit and the trinity between mom/dad/child. I've been a wreck for about 3 months over this. I never thought I'd have kids and I finally started having those pains where I yearn for my own baby. Please help however you can.

Throwaway account because the subject matter is cringe and id rather not get bullied on my main, thanks.
TLDR: My boyfriend thinks the romantic codywan RP I'm doing with a friend is emotionally cheating and wants me to stop RPing and to stop engaging with the fandom. AITAH?
I (f27) am in an argument with my bf (m29) of two months concerning a text based roleplay I'm doing with a friend.
I'm a cringey fandom roleplayer. Fandom and RP have been an enormous part of my life since I was 13. It is my most beloved hobby, two of my best friends in the whole world, I meant through RP. Roleplaying is basically like creating fanfiction with another person. You each play a character, you write a couple of paragraphs, then the other person responds. It's a game. It's fiction. The things my character says or does are oftentimes not things that I would say or do or endorse, because I'm playing as a character. The relationship I have with my RP partner is not the same as the relationships our characters might have with each other. We DO NOT bring our real lives into the RP. I promise, this is relevant so keep it in mind.
I know it's not everybody's cup of tea, I know a lot of people see it as childish and cringey, and I'm okay with that. It was something that I was deeply ashamed of and was bullied for for a long time, but I've come to accept that it's something I don't have to be ashamed of, but it's still a sensitive topic for me and something I really don't like to disclose. Growing up, I felt a lot of pressure to keep this hobby a secret, or to abandon it entirely because people who found out about it were mean about it. When I was 17, one of my closest friends emailed large potions of my "Mermaid Destiel mpreg RP" around the school. So, I'm sure you can imagine why I'm having such a hard time looking at this situation rationally. It's all caught up in my feels.
In 2019, I started doing Codywan (Obi-Wan x Commander Cody, if you're a casual Star Wars fan and know nothing about the fandom, I am so sorry.) rp with a friend, and we're still doing that RP to this very day. She is one of my closest friends. We have written thousands of pages together. The RP is most definitely romantic, but it isn't smutty. We tried writing porn a couple of times years ago, but it never went anywhere because I didn't enjoy it. The old threads have long since been deleted.
My boyfriend absolutely hate the RP. I have never, ever tried to hide it from him. I told him about it when we first started dating, before we were official, because he asked what my hobbies are. He's a Star Wars fan, not really into the fandom thing, and we had a good laugh about it. Sure, he's made a couple of snide remarks about how cringy it is, but I'm not going to pitch a fit about that because, yeah, it is cringy. I'm self-aware enough to know that. But yeah, it's never been a secret. He's never been very interested in it, and that's fine by me. Every once in a while he'll ask me questions, and I'll answer them. I guess that's why I feel so blindsided about this whole thing.
Recently, he asked to read a couple, just out of curiosity, and I let him, and he was fucking furious! The section he was reading was romantic, describing the characters holding hands and kissing because they were on a date. He accused me of emotionally cheating on him with my RP partner. I think that's ridiculous. Like I said, the role play is fiction. I have never felt romantic feelings for my RP partner, we've never kissed, we've never even met in person. Yes, we chat about all kinds of things outside of the RP because we're friends. Outside of the rp, we do not flirt. We do not talk about our sex lives. I have never come ever said anything bad to her about my boyfriend. I've never hidden the fact that I have a boyfriend from her. I do not see her out as my primary source of comfort. We talk about fandom, other hobbies, life, things like that.
I just feel so fucking confused. I pulled up our "out of character" thread and begged him to read it because I felt like that would prove my innocence, but he absolutely refused because he "already saw everything he needed to know". I asked him if married actors are cheating on their spouses when they have to kiss other people in movies, and he said that wasn't the same. I asked him if it was cheating for an author to write about a romantic relationship, he said that it wasn't the same because authors work alone. I asked him "what about people who co-author books together?" I mean, christ, were Terry Pratchett and Neil diamond having an affair without each other when they wrote Good omens? That's fucking ridiculous. But he got absolutely furious and told me to "shut up and stop trying to defend myself!" He told me I ruined Star Wars by doing this to him, and he wanted me to delete discord and Tumblr. I told him absolutely not, I hadn't done anything wrong. It still makes me so fucking mad because he was talking down to me like I was a fucking child, and my punishment for disobeying him was taking away my social media.
He was mad at me and gave me the cold shoulder for a couple of days, but yesterday, he sat me down because he wanted to have a talk with me. He apologized for freaking out at me, he said that his behavior was irrational and unacceptable, and he did agree that he had no right to try to force me to delete discord and Tumblr. You told me that the role play made him really uncomfortable, and that he felt I had betrayed him by hiding this from him, which is absolute bullshit and I called him out on that, because I hid nothing from him. He tried to tell me that I never told him it was a romantic RP, and I told him that he knew from the start that it was a ship RP, what did he expect? Then he said he doesn't mind if I kept RPing, but he doesn't want me engaging with the Star Wars fandom anymore, and he wants me to block my friend. I told him that he's talking down to me again, that he is punishing me without even bothering to hear my side of things. I asked him, again, to read the OOC thread, because if he genuinely thinks our relationship is inappropriate, I need to know. The characters we play are fictional, the relationship is fictional, there's a line between fiction and reality and we do not cross it. The RP isn't going to give him an accurate representation of my relationship with my friend. If he wants to judge that relationship, he needs to look at the OOC thread. Well, when I suggested it, he blew up at me again and told me I wasn't listening to him. He told me I was being petulant, fucking petulant, and unreasonable. He hasn't spoken to me since, and he's still absolutely fuming.
Look, I'll be honest, there's no way in hell I'm staying in this relationship. I do not want to being a relationship with somebody whose first response is anger. I want somebody who respects me enough to have an adult fucking conversation with me. If he had just talked to me instead of accusing me of cheating and blowing up at me, things would be different. But he didn't and I don't do second chances, not for stuff like this.
But this is the first long-term relationship I've had since I was a teenager, so some part of me feels like maybe I misstepped. Is doing a romantic RP with someone "cheating"? Was I in the wrong? AITAH?

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

This takes place in the USA during an adult training for Boy Scouts of America.
About seven of us adult students and one instructor.
We start off with friendly introductions and MAGA Boomer introduces himself and is seemingly very eager to refresh himself on flag rules and etiquette.
The instructor starts talking about flag etiquette, how to display it, raise it, retire it etc.
MAGA Boomer gives a few nods to the instructor in agreement and confirms he thinks this so very important and that everyone needs to know how to do it.
During some small talk between the different sections of the class, our MAGA Boomer decides to tell everyone that he flies the flag on his flagpole at home, upside-down.
There is a silence after that but we try to be respectful, we are scouts and being courteous is something we've been taught.
Later, while going over how to fly the flag at half mast our MAGA Boomer decides to chime in and ask what the protocol is for him and his flag.
Instructor looks him in the eyes and tells him there are no protocols for that since he is already breaking the flag rules.
It becomes painfully silent in the class room MAGA Boomer decides to stay quiet, for the time being.
Later on, during a discussion on proper displaying the flag, our MAGA Boomer says that he believes the country is in distress and thats why he flies the flag the way he does and just wants to be respectful and not make a statement.
Instructor once again looks him in the eye and says "But you're making quite a statement flying it the way you do and it's not correct.".
MAGA Boomer mumbles something about "this is not the right time and place" and shuts up a final time and proceeds to pout the rest of the class.
The instructor is my new hero.
Footnote: A US Flag displayed upside down is a sign of dire distress in instances of danger to life and property.

Huge shout out to & for helping with Brainstorming and Co-Writing this.
As always, all credits for the original Nature of Predators and it's content goes to Space Paladin15, thank him for allowing artist and writers to use his original work of art for their own uses.
Gaian Ref Sheet-Here, Done by the artist
As well as a *Huge* thank you for Julian Skys for filling in for the editor for this chapter. I'll post a comment as to why I haven't been posting too much, safe to say though, kept ya waiting huh?
[FIRST] [PREV] [NEXT]
[Subject Memory Transcription: Rux Limpbut, Venlil News Anchor and TV Show Host]
Date [Standardized Galactic(?) Time]:August 1st, 2136
Now I'm regretting not taking that transfer last week. This just keeps getting better.
I was in my car outside of the Network’s station. I was at my wits end yesterday and was trying my damnedest *not* to freak out on air. Now? Now I had the pleasure of my network telling me they needed me to come in way early to report on some breaking news. Just as I was about to leave for Solgaliks sake!
I took a small sip of the “coffee”. Now this was a blessing, coffeehouses on Gaia were open paw around, no matter what. I was giving a small prayer to those “ancestors” for their love of anything strong. Well, anything strong that wasn't alcohol. They could stomach one drink or two but after that? They were out.
Slurrrrrp
I let out a relieved sigh as the warm liquid flowed down my maw, the reward of caffeine soon following after this. Hopefully in time for the recording. With that I opened the door, grabbing my briefcase as I greedily drank the rest of the coffee as I approached the wide doors of the Networks station.
They creaked a little as they always did as I appeared in the doorway, a sleepy, overworked ghost. I tossed the coffee cup into the trashcan by the door as I nodded over the after work plans that I had to either postpone, or completely not do.
No bar time, going to be too tired. Not going to have enough time to do more digging in what that Farsulian diplomat released, even after it's been nearly two months. Brahk. Still need to be ready for the shift tomorrow-
“Rux?” The front desk secretary pulled me up and out of my thoughts as I blinked a couple of times, my ears raising as one of my eyes focused on her, a bit frizzled from the overtime I was clocking at the moment.
“Hm? Oh. Hey Liakal, caught me off guard almost as bad as the padcall I got. What's up?” I rubbed my eye as I fully focused on her, making my way over to her.
“Well, whenever you're ready for them they'll give you all you need, apparently, when you get into the studio. What they told me is uh, it's not a pleasant amount of news.” She nervously played with her claws and her headset, her lips quivering a bit.
“That bad? Speh. What about that uh, guest? She gets off-”
“O-oh! Mrs Tarva. She got off the planet easily. I can't say anything else though Rux. They said whatever they have to tell is very, very pertinent not to be let loose until you broadcast it… sorry Rux.”
I patted the top of the semi circle desk that Liakal was sat into, before giving her a quick, albeit small smile with a finger gun before I quickly deflated. It was that bad. With a nod from me I departed into the hallway to the left of the front desk, approaching one of the elevators.
A button press, a chime and the feeling of gravity and anxiousness about to make me hurl later, I was on the floor with the studios. I retraced the steps I had taken only claws before to mine. The green sign saying “Predator Problems” told me I hadn't failed as usual. Something had to be done with our program and segment name, if for nothing else there was apparently much more juicy stuff to talk about.
Opening the door, I expected the hustling and scrambling of the cameramen, the lighting crew, audio specialists. But nothing except a small huddled group of uniformed men. Brahk, I was hoping this wasn't the case but I was never that lucky. I resigned myself to fate as the group finally paid attention to me, and the door clicking and shutting behind me.
“Mr. Rux. Please come over here and sit. You're all good, we just need to go over what we need you to announce in this upcoming impromptu broadcast.” Why the hell were the Gaians on Prime? Wait no. That's not the problem. Why are officers from their military here? Oh stars.
However I could feel my body coming towards the oval shaped table. Eventually knocking into a chair and pulling it out, resting my briefcase onto the ground and taking a seat, pulling up to the desk. I rested my paws on it as I gave a look to the group assembled around it.
All were wearing roughly the same uniform, their fur patterns one of the only differing things between them. Aside from the one at the end of the table. They wore a green beret atop their head, nestled in between the horns that adorned it. They cleared their throat and slid a small packet of papers towards me, startling me a tiny bit.
“While I wish to be polite and respectful, there's simply no way to say this without being blunt. Sole Speaker Jikem is dead. With the current atmosphere on Gaia we thought it'd be best to announce the formation of an emergency government and a leader to head it. All of which has been done in a roundabout manner so as to not alert any radicals or terrorists.”
I had only taken a cursory glance at the front of the small packet before that bombshell of an information was dropped onto me nonchalantly. My paw was halfway to the front page to turn it before my gaze looked up at the Gaian at the end of the oval table who had done so.
“What? Sorry can you-”
“Rux. Come on, you know what I said. Now, I know it isn't everypaw that you get to report on the death of a head of state, let alone be the first one to do so. I'll most certainly give you that. So, we'll give you some time alone…well mostly, to get acquainted with the packet and once you and your crew are roaring to go we'll release the news to the Commonwealth.”
I took a small lookover of the second page but had to pause for a short moment again as I took it in. Yes, yes I did have some questions. Half from the large info dropped on me and the other half that I was now reading with my very own eyes now.
Before they could fully get up I had worked up the courage to get a short clearing of the throat and read out of the lines in the packet out aloud after I had decided it would be better to ask now rather than after. “In conjunction with recent attacks the Armed forces has decided to-” I put down the packet in its entirety now.
“What in the stars could you possibly mean by “safeguarding” democracy? This just seems to be some type of justification for a military takeover. I mean, who's going to fall for this?”
The chairs of the small clique of officers seem to find themselves filled once more as they returned to their positions, most of them now gazing between me, some random crew member scurrying near me and the head honcho with the green beret.
The intensity of the stare of the Gaian at the opposite end of the table seemed to intensify, seemingly his gaze looking through me. “Mr. Rux, I can assure you any such speculation to that matter and that, frankly, justified if albeit imaginary fear is going to be the last thing people on Gaia are going to worry about. Alright?”
I anxiously nodded back, sighing. “L-look I'm just-”
The Bereted officer seemed to nod while holding up his paw, my line of reasoning and thought being stopped by the intrusion. “Worried, you ancestors are always worried. It's why we're here, yes? Anything too dangerous or otherwise unsafe we've always volunteered for so as to save our more cultured self from such. Think about this announcement like that. A warning and an update from our side of the Commonwealth about current affairs, nothing more, nothing less.”
With that it seemed settled for the time being, as the small clique once again rose, and this time was actually able to depart to the booth that overlooked the studio, keeping what I was sure to guess a keen pair of eyes to observe anything.
I settled into my seat more as I gave the small packet a read. It was general stuff as of this point when it came to announcements. Why it's happening, what happened in more details, what they planned to do in the upcoming future, all that juicy stuff. Overall a very plain, if very informative script to go by. Still, being the first to announce the death of a head of state via “Unnatural Causes” would make even some of the most resolved Gaians a bit jumpy, yes?
Once I finally gave the entirety of the packet a quick read over I sat it down giving a glance to my, by now, very familiar set that we used for “Predator Problems”, the entire reason for why I had started it had been to educate and warn people about what to do with predators and the like. Now I was going to have to educate them, apparently, about the fact that our “brothers” in species so to speak were having a bit of topsy-turvy time on their capital planet. Now I was kinda hoping I was one of the more conspiracy theorist nut jobs just so I didn't have to get contacted.
Resigning myself to fate, and the fact that apparently I of all Vens was the most level headed to announce this, I looked over the studio, eventually finding the small group of uniformed men again. I got up and out of the chair as I made my way over to them, flicking my tail into a questioning sign as I did so, my approaching presence quickly noticed.
“Seems like you've got some questions, you read the packet though yeah?” One of them said, I simply signaled a yes with my ears to respond.
“So, is this immediately being aired? Or is it being aired later on tomorrow-well, this paw? Should it be the first thing or the last thing or is it the only thing I'm doing for this one?” With these questions the small clique seemed to talk in-between themselves, small glances were made in my general direction, they seemed to come to some type of conclusion though as they turned back to me, the bereted one now taking center stage again once more.
“Yes. It's being immediately aired. You do realize you are a bit of a celebrity on Gaia, yes? A special breaking news from you would certainly draw the right eyes. Then it'll spread from there. We do have other stuff for you to read, but it'll appear on the prompter. Other than that though we'll take our leave once everything is said and done.”
I gave a small thanks to Solgalik, as that would mean I would be able to go back home and get at least a claw or two of rest. Speh, if I just slept here I could get an extra one easy. But I didn't have much time to dwell on that, instead I apparently had a job to do right now.
With that bit of information I decided to go around, talking to the crew, who as of this point has finally settled down and has stopped scattering from the Gaians. A small conversation with each helped us plan out the next few tantalizingly painful minutes that were about to unfold live on air.
With everything and everyone in place, I took my seat at the curved table in the middle of the cameras, getting my little tie ready. With a countdown from 3, I settled into my on screen persona as the red lights of the cameras went on.
“Good Paw to everyone tuning in! I'm your host as always, Rux Limpbut, and this is Predator problems. This time though, we do have some breaking news that we need to get to. So with that being said, I suppose it's time for me to get to it.”
I straightened my back, placing my paws firmly as I closed my eyes, breathing in and then opening my eyes again.
Alright. Just gotta break the news that the head of state of the other half of our Commonwealth is dead and their Army just decided to seize power for democracy's sake.
“I have some sad, and what some can and should be saying is unsettling, news. Sole Speaker Jikem of the Gaian Cooperative, has died earlier this paw. Details are scarce and hard to come by as of this point, but from preliminary reports and investigations, it seems as though he *may* have been assassinated while at a checkpoint. As many of you know he was elected on a lockstep ticket with the current governor of Venlil Prime, Veln. He oversaw the last closing years of the Dominion-Federation war, as well as the beginning of closer federation ties. Many people are bound to ask as of this point what is going to happen, and the easiest and most truthful answer is…we don't know.”
I shuffled some papers, discarding the packet to the side of the table before continuing on with the information I was to spout out.
“Already reports are coming in that the Armed Forces of Gaia have declared a state of emergency and already there are rumblings that they have formed… an emergency government?”
I gave a bit of a confused look before continuing, I could see the group of uniformed Gaians nodding as I did so, apparently that was good enough for them.
The rest of the news report was generally a bit unsettling, or at least info packed by many people's standards. Updates on the federation at large, some reports on the status of the Venian Commonwealth and what was the plan going forward and before I knew it the red blinking light on the cameras had vanished, and the lights overhead had dimmed.
“Alright, that's good for us. We'll have one of our guys stay over the paw to help your team edit it but other than that? You can head on home.” The bereted one informed me, before signalling to one of the clique, most likely the one to stay here and “help” us edit.
I rested back in my chair and closed my eyes, I think it was time for me to get some shuteye.
—----------
Smoke billows out from the mouth of the Uniformed figure, a lit cigar cradled in his claws. He takes a survey of the trio gathered in front of him.
“So.” The figure grunts out, leaning back into his chair.
“So, what?” One of the trio asks inquisitively, shifting in their seat.
“So now what? Not many paws you get to make a masterstroke of a situation like this. Sole speaker is dead, people are looking to any type of stability and we perfectly fill the slot.” The Uniformed figure takes the cigar up to his mouth, smoking it lightly.
“Well there are numerous concerns.” The most center of the trio speak.
“Like what to do with those brahking predators that apparently still exist.” To the right of the first speaker.
“I vote we integrate them posthaste!” And finally the one on the other end.
A thick billowing cloud of smoke escapes the lips of the Uniformed figure, fidgeting for a moment before rolling forward. His face now fully lit.
“Gentlemen. Calm down. We have plenty of problems with plenty of solutions. But that's why you put me in charge of this little emergency government anyhow right? Levelheaded, warhero, clean political record.”
The trio murmur for a moment before returning a nod, the middle one piping up as he did so.
“Yes, that is why we decided to throw our towel in with you Marshal.”
The Uniformed figure now places his elbows on the table, his paws bridging each other while the cigar is still in-between in his paws.
“That's Marshal-at-Arms Jyuvernik to you. Now where were we? Ah right. The Dark corner. I want you to send a diplomatic team to assess the cattle debacle.”

I hate venting online as it’s futile and embarrassing for me (no one has to feel this way. This is just my own personal view that is mine and only mine) So, I will probably delete this soon for I also hate showing weakness to strangers (probably due to being bullied as a kid/teen). Showing weakness and emotions always leads to more abuse it seems and im often weary of others. So, with this, I’ll try and open up even if it’s temporary.

A bit of backstory I guess. My mother died when I was 7 which left behind a hole that needed to be filled. She came along to help us as she struggled with a divorce of a abusive ex husband. She had issues but At first, everything was fine, I even had silly nicknames for her that she “enjoyed” she responded with kindness to these (one was care bear, another was pumpkin because it was fall and she liked the smell, the others I don’t remember). In the beginning, I would even want her over often (when I was little) as I wanted someone to become a person I could look for as a mom but not as a replacement to my actual mom. 

With time as dad got more ill she would be by his side more (which is totally understandable, I would too for my lover) and it slowly evolved to hospital visits. I would slowly pick up being a “parent” for her disabled daughter when I was 9/10/11 when she would go out with dad to spend time with him, go to the other room to isolate from us (either needing alone time or to help him. Not my business), be with him for hospital stays, etc. I was used to this since prior, I was used to helping my dad with his medical issues and helped him get ready for life by the time I was late 7/early 8 due to his own health failing as well.
Hop years later and after problem after problem with her and me I realize my step mother never genuinely cared about me. I know it takes two to tango and it’s partly my fault, I get where I fell in my faults and I’ve accepted them as my lessons in day to day life. However, as I became more reclusive to her as she showed a lack of accountability (and to this day, she won’t admit and see why it was so wrong for her to do things that were heavily against me) I was then always the scapegoat as she showed love and gushed over her actual kids. My achievements were worthless and often met with a “you should’ve already been good at that”, “you should know better by now”, or “that should already have been done if it was something important to you”. The typical “you aren’t good enough” wearing different clothes. The feelings of being useless had already creeped in by the time I was 10/11 so this was going on for a long time (along with many other issues that I’m not gonna get into). Even as I got nearly straight A’s in college I was never praised except by dad who unfortunately died when I was early 19. I know I should seek praise but I would’ve loved a good job from her… I know that’s silly but it would’ve been nice to be seen as her actual kid worth my of love. I know my pesky teen years didn’t help but I was still your kid in some form and I was treated like a punching bag from her own jealousy and hate for me.
Now with no family left except a few aunts, she tried everything she can to ensure I don’t become independent (I don’t wanna talk too much about it, I’m too tired plus this post is getting rather long).
The parts that hurt the most were: She refused my safety from my childhood to adulthood. She never cared what truly happened to me it seems. Never really paid attention unless to berate (usually in the form of gossiping to others and embarrassing me in front of others so when my teenage self got upset she can use my reaction as “proof” and to “justify” herself) and yell at me. She snooped around my room and life to gossip to her kids about me how much of a failure I was and how disgusting of a person I am. Then got mad when I isolated or kept my life very secretive. She would find issues with me just to try to make my dad hate me (thankfully it failed. I’m unsure if this was a attempt to further isolate me because I wasn’t a part of her “actual kids”. I don’t know and I’m too tired to know) or get him to yell at me so she could stay in the other room and listen to how I was being scolded and begin crying. When she realized she couldn’t control my life she tried hiding food from me as I was early 20’s because she had “control issues with me” (her words not mine). I didn’t like things going to waste so I’d eat nearly expired foods often and she would get pissy that I was “stealing from her”. She gossiped to strangers about how I never do anything with myself and suspected I was just a useless failure. (I was in college with a job, thanks.) When I did finally snap she held on to it but when she snapped she expected to be forgiven. She also would steal from me and blame me (but would expect me to keep my hands to myself when I was hungry and didn’t have the time or funds to get food…).
All I wanted was a mom to care but I guess I couldn’t get that because the one I got died when I barely got to know her. There is more to say but I think that is all of us here, too much to say about someone who was supposed to love us. My apologies if my post is in shambles I never really let anything out like this so I’m sure I kinda sound “childish” but like- I really hate Mother’s Day and I just wanted to let it out, even if I delete this later.

TODAY'S RECAP

Sheila loves that she got to spook Li and delights in anticipation of revealing herself to the Forresters. We see the aftermath of Steffy, Ridge, and Liam accepting the truth. Neither Finn or Deacon knows their partners as well as they think they do.

Deacon and Sheila at Deacon's

Sheila: I'm glad I went to the hospital. Nothing was more fun than scaring the bejesus out of Li! 😄 (Sheila can't stop giggling). It couldn't have been more perfect -- Li being there. Hahaha!
Deacon: She was furiously attacking you, tryna send you to the grave, for real.
Sheila: I know! It was so much fucking fun! More fun than I've had in a long time. 😆 Poor Li, she was just jealous that Finn couldn't let me stay dead and felt compelled to save me! Hahahaha. Li couldn't take it! (💭 Suck it, Li!)
I know. I know. People wish me dead all the damned time. IDGAF. I'm used to it! 😏
Deacon: This is going to keep happening if you keep popping up 👻 and surprising people. 😛 You're going to get a similar reaction to Li 🤯😡😤💥 Hey, how about trying subtle?
Sheila: Fuck that. I like to go BIG! 😆 I expect people to react like Li. I'm looking forward to it. 😏 I can't wait! Hahaha. 😂🤣
Who will be most shocked? Brooke 😫 or Ridge 😡? Oooh, I sooo wanna roll on up into Eric's place. 👏👏👏 Whoooey! Fun! 🎉 Donna is a screamer! 😮 (💭 These bitches will all freak out beautifully in a perfect combination of shock 😳, fear 🫣, loathing 😠, and disbelief 😦. Hahaha. Yay! 🤸‍♀️).
It was so perfect how Li was just there. How can I orchestrate my reveal to the Forresters for maximum shock? 😀 I can pop in at FC and be the model who walks in to see Ridge for alterations! Hahaha! HAAAA! 🤭
Deacon: Does "changed'" Sheila just wanna shock people? (💭 Sheila Sheila Sheila. Gotta try to control the crazy 😵‍💫).
Sheila: OMG! You're no FUN! It's just a little SHOCK 😱. Not HARM! 😏 (💭 I'm not going to chop up 🪓, hang or tie up ➰, stab 🔪, drown 🌊, or shoot 🔫 anybody. I'm not going to set anyone's house on fire🔥 or chain ⛓️ them up in a dungeon ⛓️! I'm not going to kidnap any babies or children 👦👶👧, or trick anyone into getting my face 🙂. I'm not going to break in to anyone's home 🏠! That was the old Sheila! No one will end up murdered, kidnapped, bloody🩸, or otherwise injured 🤕, ffs! Gah! Calm down! It's just a little mischief 🙄😏).
I just want to have a little fun 🥳. Come on! Nothing nefarious 👿. Just prankster fun 🤪😝!
Deacon: So remember the nice, chill, mellow, 😌 happy, calm, quiet life we discussed? (💭 Imagine being a stoner and our biggest stressor is getting the munchies 🍕🥪🍚🍪🍰🥯🍟🥨when we're out of snacks and our favorite places are closed.) No fantasies about scaring 👻 people and getting reactions from the Forresters. Let's get back to us, our engagement, and our nice, quiet life. (Deacon, Reddit wonders if you actually KNOW Sheila 🤔).
Sheila: Ppffrrtt. (💭 Alright, fine, we'll seeeeeee😏.)
(Sheila and Deacon laugh 😄😀 and smoochy smoochy kissy kissy 😍🥰. Then Sheila is snuggled up with Deacon getting a shoulder massage.)
Sheila: I missed this. 😍 I missed you and thought about you the whole time. I didn't think I'd be back here. I was thisclose to 💀.
But, here I am! With you and my imaginary ring. 👋💍 😀 WOW!
Deacon: 🙄 No more pretending. I want everyone to know in love 😍💕 I am with you. 🥰 (More smoochy smoochy 😘🥰.)

Hope, Ridge, and Liam at FC

Ridge and Liam: Sheila! Changed? 🤨 Wha? 😦Nah. Nope. No. No fucking way! 😠 Is Finn crazy? 😵‍💫 Delusional? Stupid? Wtf is his problem? 😤
Ridge: You must have gotten it wrong. It can't be.
Hope: No. Sheila is--
Ridge: NOOOOOOO! Grrrr. 😠 Gah! 😦 Not about SHEILA. I know. I KNOW. 🤨 I get it. I heard you. Sheila's alive. Fuck. But whatever. No. I mean about the other thing -- Finn idiotically thinking this is GOOD news. Growl! Huff! Puff! 😤On what planet could he POSSIBLY believe this is good news? How clueless is he?
Liam: (quickly hopping on the anti-Finn 🚂) Yah. Yah. I mean, seriously. Hope. How could Finn POSSIBLY think,💡🤔 with NO ❌ evidence, that psychopath Sheila 👿 is reformed 😇? Wtf?!
Hope: He has reasons. He--
Ridge: REASONS!? REASONS?! 😮 Snarl! 😡 What fucking READINGS?!
Hope: He says she's changed. He's seen her growth. 🌱 He's seen her sprout angel 😇 wings. He's seen a new and improved Sheila.
Liam: Give me a fucking break! It's pure foolishness 🥴 and personal bias! 😦 Gah! Just because the BABY MANCHILD has a childish need to have a relationship with his birth mommy, he's latched onto a fantasy that this demon 👿 psycho has reformed. (💭 Don't worry, Steffy 💕. I'll be your fall back guy.).
It's NOT REALITY! (💭 I'm really postering now, showing off to Ridge, matching him huff for puff! 😤).
Ridge: Yah! Grrrr. Harumph! 😤😡 What's gotten into this guy? 🤨 Growl! 😦 Sheila is an ANIMAL! Grrr! 😦 Animals don't change! Snort! 😤 Spiders 🕷️, snakes⚕️, reptiles 🐊, monsters 🧟‍♀️👺👿 like Sheila never change!
Hope: I felt the same way. (💭 I even gave up on a relationship with my dad ☹️ when he wouldn't break it off with Sheila.) But after seeing 👀 them together 💕, maybe we should keep an open mind 😐.) People said the same thing about Thomas, that he--
Ridge: 🤨 You DID NOT. You DID NOT just FUCKING GO THERE (💭 bitch!) Growl! 😡 Snarl! 😦 Snort 😤! Grrrr. You DID NOT just COMPARE my TALENTED, KIND, LOVING, REFORMED SON (some Redditors say you forgot enabled, entitled, obsessed, dangerous, and consequence free son) to that PSYCHOPATH SHEILA?! OMFG! 🤬
Hope: I'm not saying they're the same. 🫤🙄 (💭 Gah. Eye roll. Patience with the neanderthal. Deep breath.) I'm just saying people can change. So we could just possibly, maybe open the door a teeny, tiny 🤏 bit and entertain the possibility that Finn could possibly be right.
Ridge: You AGREE with (💭 the loser idiot) FINN about that psycho 🫨 Sheila?! What the fucking fuck, Hope?! (💭 Are you crazy and stupid too? Where's Brooke? I can't deal with you, ffs.😠)
Look, Finn has a weird ass connection to Sheila. But WTF, Hope. What's up with YOU? 🤔
Liam: 🤨
Hope: I explained. Sugar was planning to harm 🪓➰🔪🩸 Steffy. Sheila tried to stop her.
Liam: Hearsay. This story of Sheila fighting Sugar came from the least reliable source -- Sheila! (💭 Reddit hates to admit it, but Liam has a point). Sheila told you this story. You, Finn, and Deacon just accept it at face value.
But all we know for sure is that SHEILA didn't attack 🔪 Steffy. Sugar did. That doesn't mean Sheila has changed. It just means there were TWO psychos! 😵‍💫🫨 (Reddit really doesn't want to give Liam credit but kinda gotta suck it up and admit, he's making good points.)
Hope: Deacon and Finn think she HAS changed.
Ridge: Hope. (💭 Whooo boy. I have no patience under normal circumstances. 😑 This is WILDLY FRUSTRATING AF! 😡). Everything Sheila says is a LIE! It's all for show. Gah! 😦 Come ON!
Hope: For--
Ridge and Liam: FOR FINN! FOR FINN! OMFG! 😨
Ridge: She's feeding him the fantasy HE WANTS! Now, she's supposed to be mother of the year, ffs?! Growl! Snarl! 😡 Nah!
Hope: I'm not saying we just accept it. I'm just asking that we keep an open mind, for Finn's sake. (💭 Reddit wonders why Hope doesn't just wrap it up and extricate herself from this whole thing! She should just say ' I gave you the news. Talk to Finn. Byeeee.' Reddit says get out of there, Hope. It's been a looooooooooooooong af day!)
Look, I'm starting to see Finn's side. If indeed Sheila has changed, why shouldn't he want a relationship with her?
Ridge: NOT gonna HAPPEN. 🤨 😡 (Reddit thinks Ridge must have taken a few pointers from Victor Newman only Ridge is way louder.) Finn wants Sheila in their lives. Steffy's not gonna allow it.🫸❌ Absolutely not. ❌ No way. ❌ No how. ❌ Never. Ever. Gonna happen. ❌ Nope. ❌ Nah! ❌ Forget about it! ❌
Liam: Ohhh. Yah! Righ! After what she's endured being MARRIED to this guy who has some bullshit, primal connection to his psycho 🫨 birth mother. Now he wants to invite Sheila into her life? Well, he doesn't GET STEFFY! Steffy will NEVER allow it. She'll draw a line ➖in the sand. The stop 🛑 sign will go up. The hands will push 🫸 back 🫸 hard 🫸.
FINN DOESN'T KNOW STEFFY -- like AT ALL! (💭 Not like I know Steffy and love 😍 Steffy, and will protect Steffy 👩‍❤️‍👨.)
Ridge: 🤨
Hope: 🙄

Finn and Steffy at their home

Steffy: (it all sinks in) It wasn't Sheila I stabbed 🔪. 😣 It was a look-a-like, Sugar. 😖 I stabbed a Sugar -- some woman who was tricked into plastic surgery to look like Sheila. What?! 🤯
Finn: Yah, babe. Isn't that a good thing? 🙂 Isn't that GREAT? 😀 Isn't that a relief? 😀 Isn't that a HUGE weight lifted? 😃 Aren't you thrilled 🤩, happy 😁, and bursting with joy 😊? I know I am. We thought you killed my birth mother, but you stabbed a totally different psycho! Pretty cool, huh? 🙄😃
Steffy: 🥺😠😡 (💭 Wow. OMG. Finn thinks I should be relieved? WTF?!)
Sugar kidnapped ➰⛓️ Sheila. If Deacon and I hadn't gotten there to SAVE her, she might not have survived, honey! This is SUCH AMAZINGLY AWESOME 👍 NEWS!
Steffy: So YOU think I'm supposed to be THANKFUL this monster 👿 is alive?! Are you fucking serious?! 😖😟
Finn: Nah. But yah. Isn't a small 🤏 part of you thankful? 🙄
Steffy: No. 😕
Finn: Relieved? 😀
Steffy: No. ☹️
Finn: Happy for me? 🙂
Steffy: No. 😣
Finn: Honey, babe, sweetheart, listen. We were struggling with the fact that you killed my birth mother, but we don't have to anymore. (💭 I know if I reframe this the right way, Steffy will have an ah ha 💡moment 😀 and feel relief. I just have to find the right words. I have faith 🙏 in us. I'm not even a little bit delusional.🥴 I know Steffy has a good and forgiving heart ❤️. She's just in shock 😳 and horrified 😱 and her mind is blown 🤯. But this will subside. 🙂 I'll just keep talking in a soothing voice. Yah!)
You killed someone who hated Sheila. Sugar was crazy. She wanted to hurt YOU to hurt HER. Get it? (💭 Sugar was the REALLY bad 👹 one. Sheila is a RECOVERING psycho! Big difference! 😀)
Steffy: So I'm supposed to be ooooh all happy and shit that psycho A is dead and psycho B is alive? 🤔 Nah! Finn, I'ma speak slowly so you can understand me when I tell you, NO I'm not happy or relieved or whatever tf you want me to be -- because the DANGER IS BACK! (💭 This man has the THICKEST, HARDEST HEAD! Fucking hell. He's freaking me out so badly that Dawn can't even find any emojis to express the emotional wreckage on my face! Anger, disbelief, confusion, fear, stress, anxiety, frustration -- all the feels!)
Finn: Nah. It's not back! That's the glorious, wonderful, amazing, beautiful, exciting, magnificent 😀😃😄😁 thing I'm just not adequately conveying to you, my love! No fear or danger! Sheila tried to PROTECT YOU. She tried to SAVE YOUR LIFE! She's your best friend ever! She wants to get pedicures together, not shoot us and leave us for dead! She's past that nonsense now. No more danger, honey! ☺️💕
She offered her own life to save you! She tried to fight Sugar. She loves us!
Steffy: Look. 🤨 Sugar's scheme was to blame Sheila. So, Sheila was just selfishly protecting HERSELF from getting blamed. That's all it was! (💭 If I just reframe this the right way, Finn will have an ah ha 💡 moment. He has to! I just have to find the right words to get through his thick skull and penetrate his delusional thinking. He's really worrying me and pissing me off. Wow. Just wow.)
Finn: Nah. She offered her own life! She cares more about us than her own life. SHEILA'S A HERO! Super Sheila🦸‍♀️ to the rescue, only she was chained up ⛓️ and fighting at a disadvantage, but she tried!
Steffy: Hero? HERO? 🤢🤮 You're calling SHEILA fucking psycho CARTER a HERO? Are you on crack? 😮 She tried to KILL🩸us. (💭 He's gone off the deep end into LA LA land 🤪.)
Finn: When Sugar told her--
Steffy: (Angry 😡 and frustrated 😖, Steffy Slams a chair 🪑💥 hard on the floor.) I DON'T GIVE AF ABOUT SUGAR!!! I don't CARE her!!! 😦😣 She means NOTHING TO ME!!! (💭 STFU Finn! OMFG! Ahhhh! I have NO PATIENCE LEFT for his delusional BULLSHIT! I can't seem to get through to him! Why tf won't he LISTEN??!! 🤬)
WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SHEILA! 😠
S H E I L A !! 😡
We've been over this a ZILLION TIMES how she had terrorized my family for generations! How do you not GET IT?
Finn: I do. I underst--
Steffy: NO YOU DO NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND!!!! 😡😤 GENERATIONS! GENERATIONS! That vile bitch is a LUNATIC! 😵‍💫🫨😈
(Steffy pleads 😫 with Finn in frustration 😖😣 to comprehend.)
She tried to KILL ME! And my MOTHER! And my GRANDMOTHER! 😩
I lost TIME with my mother! 😩 I lost TIME with YOU! 😫😣
She's tried to POISON people. So, even if she did try some feeble attempt to get that other stupid psychopath friend not to hurt me, SO FUCKING WHAT?!
NO! NO! NO NO NO NO! 😡 She's NO HERO! I NEVER want to hear you say that AGAIN! (💭 La La La La I can't hear you! I won't hear you! NO!)
Finn: 😑😞 (shakes his head. 💭 She's not getting it.)
Steffy: 😡😖 (shakes her head. 💭 He's lost his mind.)
Steffy: Do you hear me? She's vile. She is in no way a HERO! 😠 She left us in an ALLEY to DIE! What are you thinking? 😩
Finn: Yah yah. I knoooow. I know her past sins. She's made some mistakes 😒, some bad judgement calls🙄, she's been kind of a mess 🫤. She hasn't always put her best foot forward. She hasn't always been super thoughtful. Sure, she's wanted a lot of people dead 💀, but that was THEN and this is NOW! She's been working on herself. She's very into self help these days, and yoga and shit. The fact is she tried to save you!
Steffy: Don't CHALLENGE ME on FACTS ABOUT SHEILA! I'll give YOU the fucking FACTS Mr. Man! 😡 You will lose.
Finn: How about the handy dandy fact that she's alive and you didn't kill my birth mother? ☺️ That matters to me! I'm your husband (takes Steffy's hand). You're the most important person 💕 in the world 🌎 to me. But my birth mother was a mystery. I almost lost her. I just want to help her. I don't want to turn my back on her. 😟 (💭 She's kind of a hoot too, and stubborn and strong, kinda like someone else I love! ❤️)
Steffy: (looking miserable 😖) But you have to. I love you. 😢God, I love you! ❤️ (💭 And my heart is breaking 💔 right now.) You are SO GOOD! But Sheila is EVIL 👹. You are naive (💭 delusional) to think she'll change, that she won't devestate our lives.
Sheila is NOT going to be IN OUR LIVES, no where near Kelly or Hayes.
You can't have BOTH. 😟
It's either HER.
Or ME. 😐
Finn: 😕I hear you. Of COURSE it's YOU. It will always be you. ❤️ (Steffy and Finn share an emotional embrace, both with weary 😞, teary 😥, worried 🥺 expressions. They hold on to each other, emotionally spent.)
The end.

“Is it true?”
“Is what true?” asked Simon.
“That your mother is my father?”
“Well just think about what you’ve just said. Actually think about it, and then get back to me,” smirked Simon. He loved patronising anyone and everyone.
“Back to you,” whispered Oscar.
“Yes.”
He turned his back from Simon and faced the other way.
“Are you an actual fucking dumbfuck?” asked Simon.
“My ex always said I was a boringfuck.”
“Explains a lot...” smirked Simon. His grin literally ate shits on weekends.
“Yea, she said ‘Your phallus is so ridiculously small and mushy that I’d get more satisfaction dragging my vulva across a floor covered in frozen peas’”
“Is that so?”
“Yep,” said Oscar. “And that’s how I ended up with my pea son.”
“Oh I was gonna ask,” said Simon.
Pete the pea son was gargling in a nearby pram. He was a little green round baby rich in vitamins I think. I don’t know, I’m not a vegetable doctor.
“And your niece?” asked Simon.
“Yep. My ex made love to a carpet of peas and that’s how I have my pea niece.”
“Your pea niece,” smirked Simon.
“That’s what I said.”
“Is she....tiny and mushy?” laughed Simon.
“No she’s half frozen.”
“Heh,” Simon said.
Heh Simon said. Heh Simon said. Heh Si- I haven’t played Simon Says for seventy nine years so I don’t know if that’s how you play it or not.
“So anyway,” said Oscar. “If your mother isn’t, then who is my father?”
“Aren’t you more invested in how your ex wife gave birth to your niece?”
“N...no...that makes...”
“Sense?” smiled Simon. “That makes sense?”
“Yea coz my ex woz my auntie. Auntie antijoke was her name.”
“But that would make the kid your cousin.”
“Oh yea shit,” said Oscar. “So I....”
“Fucked your...”
“My...sister?” asked Oscar, head tilted.
“Correct!”
“And that’s your mother?”
“Yep!” said Simon.
“Ok cool. She’s hot too so go me!” said Oscar. He highered his palm for a hoi foive. Simon clapped dat shit so quickly it was just a fleshy blur, like Japanese genitals. “Well, I’m glad we got to the bottom of this,” said Oscar.
“Me too.”
“Now we can go back to this in depth game of chess,” said Oscar.
“Yep. Your turn.”
“I’ll move my castle to that black square.”
“I’ll move your pea niece,” winked Simon.
“Oh please do naughty boy!”
They both laughed in beautiful love times.
The End
Is what is said when it’s the end of a story, just like now. The End.
“Touch my pea niece with both hands you filthy boar-cunt.”

i 22/F and my boyfriend 24/M have been together for 2 years now. i have a problem with how he respects me sometimes and would love advice on if im just being too much.
let me start by saying, when i make a decision i always think about how it will affect him and if it will make him upset or make him feel any type of way. of course i want him to do that because i feel like that's what you do in a relationship, think about the other person and how it affects them. i have been going through really awful mental health problems lately and i haven't been able to leave my house or function without having constant panic attacks some days. and i told my boyfriend to just not drink as much as he has been, and don't get high because both of those things make me extremely anxious which just adds to it. not to mention im also missing going out once in a while and getting drunk with my friends when i was able to go out, so him calling me wasted makes me a little sad especially when he does it so often. anyway, he has lied to me about getting high and even crossed a boundary from before i was even going through this hard time and told me "i didn't even think about you when i was doing it." i tell him all the time that i would never do anything to make him feel upset or any type of negative way even if you weren't going through what im going through, and not only are you doing this, you're also doing it while im going through an impossible time in my life.
i told him i want him to treat me with the same love i treat him with. i WANT to make him comfortable and happy. for example, he was extremely uncomfortable with me going to bars with my friends because bars have always made him on edge because of what could happen, and i respected that, and i haven't gone to a bar since because i want to do that for him and make him happy and i've never seen it as problem. but when i ask for a few things he can't do that. am i crazy?
TL;DR my boyfriend doesn’t treat me with the same respect i give him in every situation pertaining to either one of us.

To be honest I'm still reeling, it's been a long time since a book took me on such an emotional rollercoaster. The Chain of Dogs will stay with me for me the rest of my days.
The reprieve that was given when the one tribe from the Seven Cities attacked the others and recognised the Wickans as the true badasses they were, Coltaine giving Duiker command of the refugees and the deal they made to be guided to Aren. The soldiers giving up all their pay along with the Wickans. That gesture being recognised for what it was by that tribe and them not taking advantage. The refugees making it! Dare I hope!?
Good thing I didn't, as that hope would have been stomped into the goddamn ground a few pages later.
Damn it Erikson. The entire time reading Nil lead Duiker up to the walls I could feel the dread building. So when Nether cried out about how he could help as there were too many, I thought I had it figured out. I was both right and wrong.
The final stand of the Wickans and 7th was truly some heartbreaking shit. Infuriating, depressing, shocking, sad, and extremely disappointing with dashes of hope thrown in. As hard as it was to read. I couldn't help but to get pumped at the middle finger they gave as that last stand. Lull and the standard, only dropping it to assist Bult. Coltaine and the last of the cattle dogs defending him, taking the throat out of a dude that speared it before going down. The pain and turmoil of that archer tasked with making the shot to end it, all seen through Duiker's eyes has he sat helpless.
But goddamn that description of the crows was chilling!
And you finish with that only to have your broken heart set on fire with what happens to the army when they finally decide to attack 🥴
I'm new to the series, I've only read GotM and DG. Just started MI and just got slapped in the face with the prologue in that and the information it hits you with. It doesn't stop does it?
Rel and Dom, I would say I'd see you in hell, but how this series is going they both end up as Ascendents for all I know. Speaking of which, by the time Laseen's true motives were explained, all I could do was shake my head in a half hearted acknowledgement.
I'm sure this has been discussed into the ground, I just had to voice my feelings to others besides my wife who just started back at me a blank, albeit interested look as she has no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

With 10th being around as long as it has now I think most of us should know our army's pretty well by now - So! Which unit(s) in your faction do you consider terrible / nigh unusable?
Preferably no Fortifications! I imagine we'll see a lot of Aircraft mentioned so do *consider* adding a non-flyer runner up if you'd like hah
For Daemons, I'd think it's most likely the Exalted Seeker Chariot. It's huge so even with 14" Move it's a PITA to get around the board, it's special rule sucks (force BS after killing a unit) & it's damage output is pitiful vs anything above basic chaff. When I can bring a Hellflayer that's smaller, cheaper, has an infinitely better ability (50% chance of d3+3mw's into inf) *&* is capable of putting out meaningful damage I just can't see any reason I'd bring it beyond a fluffy mono-list; & even then I'd consider a Tormentbringer ver. instead
For CSM, even without knowing the prices for certain, it's hands down got to be the Heldrake. Unless there's a Chaos-y Miracle & GW prices it at like 125pt, in no world am I spending ~205pt for a T9 model with only 5A. Without bringing Obj. Control it's just... pointless. Which makes me sad because it's one of the quintessential CSM models. I suppose it's still paying for it's sins all the back from 7th hah. Hell even into 9th it was fine, I blasted countless characters who didn't think to screen directly behind them. I do fear if 11th will get rid of Aircraft altogether or if they're just going to stay stuck in purgatory for eternity
As a non-flyer runner up, I could maaaybe say Lord Disco but I love that man too much to ever speak down about him so I'm going to tentatively say Chaos Spawn. Getting dropped to OC0 is pretty painful as one of their main perks of being sneaky 'lil devils & getting onto an Obj. suddenly doesn't matter anymore. I will say they might be secretly decent however as being able to knock opponents down to a (potential) 0OC themselves is really unique & might force someone to focus on them instead of something more juicy. I wouldn't be at all surprised if we start seeing them more than the Index era armies had. Regardless, when you have to choose between something like a Rhino or a blob of 2OC Traitor Guardsmen for around the same price it's normally a pretty clear choice
Anywho, what about *your* army? Which units do you shed a tear for everytime you pass by them on your shelf?

We lost our moms and our foster kid in the past two years. My auntie that was like a mom has slid into dementia and doesn't want us to visit or call anymore. Because I'm a woman, people will wish me happy mother's day if I want to hear it or not... and I definitely don't.
My mother died not speaking to me cause she was pissed off that I wouldn't take care of her at home during covid... and I still don't know what killed her other than that it was cancer that she chose not to have treated. I lie to myself about how I failed her, I tell myself she knew I was there at the end and just didn't have the strength to speak.
It's a huge fucking lie. She wouldn't look in my direction, even though she was talking to the docs and nurses. I was alone with her when she died. She didn't say goodbye, she wouldn't so much as squeeze my hand, because I'm that much of a failure as a daughter. But I can't bear to think of it that way, so I lie and lie and lie. And I let others lie to me, never calling them out on what my heart knows is true.
My foster son died of an overdose 3 months later, after moving halfway across the country to try to reconnect with his blood family. Which I encouraged him to do.... and failed him, too.
I feel inadequate, incomplete, incompetent, cold, uncaring. And I have to watch while people that still have every fucking chance to make things work for their moms and their kids piss and fucking moan over what did or didn't happen for them. You're here, your kids are here, your moms are here, your future is in your hands and you can fucking do anything. You're choosing to settle for relationships in which you are not respected, that are not ideal and throw yourselves little fucking pity parties over not getting breakfast in bed or what the fuck ever for the Perfect Celebration. Fuck that, go live a LIFE that means loving the people around you every fucking day, not just chasing the Hallmark Moments.
If it helps at all, I hate myself more than I do you. Because for a very short window, I was really really fucking happy, with a kid that called me mom and wanted to be with me, and a mom that wasn't completely horrible if I graded on a steep curve... and I fucking missed it with the workaday worries that ultimately don't matter.

The silence is what kills me the most how could you go from this loving and caring person to being so cold I feel like you didn’t tell the truth because of my actions well i truly don’t know what you want from me you say all this stuff and I do them pour my heart out and you just act like nothing happened it’s all good the writing on the wall and I truly hurt at the thought of life I mean nothing makes sense honestly everything either we can’t talk about it or it’s something that very strange I could care less about what could of happened I just wanted the woman I use to know back like your pulling me apart being so cold and distant but next minute your being so sweet and talking and texting I give you what you ask for then it’s right back to cold just remember I can only take so much I feel like I need the truth and it’s not fair to be left feeling like I’m not worthy and alone when at the end of the day throughout everything, I still put myself in ridiculous positions to see a smile, not asking for much but what I am asking for is you to be straight up?

TW: abuse
Yesterday my ex (m35-ish) reached out to me (f28) via LinkedIn, roughly 8 years after we broke up.
Turns out he's been back in the area for a bit. He asked me to reconnect over lunch or dinner sometime. I turned him down because he can't be trusted.
The cliff notes of what he's done:

• Intentionally failed a drug test at work, resulting in his termination. Had me pay for everything, including his rent and car payment. Then had me lease a storage unit when his car was repossessed and he was evicted. I was barely making above the $7.25 minimum wage.
  
• Cheated on me and got the other woman pregnant. Successfully hid it until the baby was already 3 months old.
  
• Hacked my email account in an attempt to blackmail me so he wouldn't have to pay back the $1,000 he still owes me.
  
• Tried scamming desperate men on Craigslist out of their money by pretending to be a trans sex worker.
  
• Consistently accused me of cheating. Would ignore me for days if he knew I talked to a guy if it wasn't work related.
  
• Told his affair partner about how I was assaulted while at school. Blamed me for it and used it as a justification for his cheating.
  
• Thought it was fun to get me drunk to have sex with me.
  
• Tried to sabotage my birth control to get me pregnant.
  

I'm sure you're wondering why I put up with all of this. I was in my late teens/early 20s and I didn't know any better. I thought that's what it meant to be a ride or die and I was a hardcore people pleaser.
I found out he was cheating when his AP messaged me on Facebook. Him hiding his affair and his baby was what finally convinced me I needed to run. I haven't spoken to him since and I never thought I would again. Needless to say him messaging me has really thrown me for a loop.
I've been happily married to an amazing man for almost 3 years now and we've agreed it would be a risk to my mental and physical safety to meet up with my ex. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wondering why the fuck he would reach out to me after all this time and all he's done.
Being the nosy person that I am, I have occasionally done a little social media stalking of my own and perused accounts belonging to the mother of his children. From what I can tell, they stayed together all this time and had two more children together. The youngest isn't even 2 yet.
I have zero plans to see this man, I've already told him it wouldn't be appropriate for us to meet up. I'm starting a new job soon and I plan to block him from LinkedIn before that so he won't know where to find me. But before I block him, I want to know what the hell he's thinking. I also want to know if I should warn the mother of his children if he's up to his old ways.
Should I talk to him? Should I message her the screenshots of him asking to meet up?
TLDR: Crazy ex asks me to dinner after 8 years. He has young children and I think he might be trying to cheat on the mother.

I am not saying 100% that hes going to see K but he just said it again to salty that he is not flying out from Florida. I do have a strong feeling that he is going to see her. I do believe that she will see him before he leaves. They have been together for a long time they have history they split and have not seen each other since. I do believe that they need to see each other just for closure if just for that. BUT tell me what wild behavior it would be if he showed up in az with K because we all know he does not want C to go. I mean i am sure people will pay big money for a sub only live if he leaves this hanging in the air. C you better start mentally preparing yourself for the hell he is going to put you to. P.S make sure you bring all the tea back to keep up your views.

From this video
I'll list some main points from this video. Please try not to read too deep into meanings behind the words. Also note that not everything is translated. Just things I thought were interesting.

• 1:10 In terms of being consistent or not, (GnW is) in the middle or leaning on not being consistent
• In general, I don't think any character is inherently consistent or not, but if I had to say, then I think (GnW is) on the side of inconsistent

He then talks about why characters are called inconsistent

• 1:30 Characters like Cloud and Aegis are strong offensively, which is overlooked in talking about consistency. In return, they are weak defensively off the stage.
• They are inconsistent because if they get edge guarded, then they will have a hard time with that game.

Wraps it back around to Game and Watch

• 2:00 Game and Watch has an easy time recovering, so he will not lose a stock early from recovering.
• However, he is the 3rd lightest in the game next to Pichu and Jigglypuff. Realistically, he's about the same as Pichu because his air dodge is frame 3, so he cannot get out of combos like Pichu can on frame 2.
• What makes him different from characters such as Jigglypuff and Olimar is that Game and Watch has a hard time killing
• Everyone says you can get others to 150% easily, but if you get your opponent to 150%, then they will get rage. Shows 150% Ryu Shoryuken killing Game and Watch at 60%
• Game and Watch has an easier time getting out of combos against characters that try to maintain advantage, but a really hard time against characters that have true combos
• 3:30 Also, his hit animation is terrible. He spreads his hands and arms outwards in all directions.
• Him having slow fall speed can lead to him getting hit too. Being light should make getting out of combos easier but Game and Watch doesn't.
• There are many situations where I get the opponent to 150, cannot get a ledge trap read, get one combo'd to 50, and then die.

Game and Watch Neutral

• 4:15 Game and Watch is not good at going in, so his neutral gameplan tends to be more basic/clean
• GnW can't hold forward.
• Hard to make a comeback, especially characters that can time you out
• Game and Watch has a hard time killing, but is strong defensively
• I think consistency ultimately comes down to the person

Burst Options

• 5:00 Characters that can skip ledge are really difficult. They often get to 150%.
• Characters that have a hard time at ledge are easier, so if those are the only characters you face in bracket, then he is more consistent, but if you can't read their ledge option, then GnW gets blown up, so its hard to say he is consistent.
• GnW has to read the opponent's habits at ledge to reliably kill, so it's easier against opponents you know. This is why I am consistent in Japan.
• Overseas, maybe I wasn't playing well, but I don't really know the players.
• I think given more time, I can get up to a 50% win rate against Sparg0 and Sonix, even though they've beaten me a lot
• Ledge trapping is just reading habits at the end of the day.
• I used to lose a lot to Tsubaki and Jogibu, but after I studied them, I stopped losing. I lost to Toriguri like 7 times in a row on Tamisuma(Online tournament), and I've won twice at Maesuma now.

"Do top players not change their habits?"

• 6:55 They can change, but I tend to adapt during the set
• I hope I can win against Zackray with this same thought process

Also

• 7:10 Two characters I tried really hard to deal with but couldn't were Yoshi and Rosa
• I can win sometimes, but not consistently, so I started using Steve against them
• I'm starting to think Sonic is also not possible, so I've been studying Steve vs Sonic. I've been watching KEN, Onin, and Sonix's matches a lot.
• Oh yeah also Metaknight. That character will kill you off one hit at any percent, so it's very inconsistent.
• More than half the reason I'm consistent is because I have secondaries. Solo GnW won't get you consistent results.
• I used to not care about character weight that much. I even thought it was normal, but people started preparing for the matchup by killing GnW early, so good players would instantly take stocks over and over and it was really difficult
• Characters with bad mobility are easy, but characters with good mobility are hard to deal with. Neutral is hard, and they can catch your landing and Up B OOS. I lost Umebura SP9 to DIO upairing my up B.
• GnW is actually exploitable. It's just his recovery.
• I still think this character is probably in the top 5. Also great as a secondary.
• I think at the end of the day, it comes down to the person