How to apologize to a man

This is honestly a bit of a sad story, as my friend was in a hostile relationship. Let’s call her Gem.
Leading up to my wedding Gem (who was a bridesmaid and my best friend of 20+ years) disappeared because she had a new boyfriend. From day one of her telling me about him he was jealous and accusatory of her talking to other men. They had known each other for years but reconnected and immediately got serious. He immediately made her delete friends that were men and insinuated that she was being slutty before she was with him. I saw this as a red flag right away and tried to tell her that he had no business knowing anything about her past if she didn’t want to tell him specially so soon into a relationship.
Over the months leading up to my wedding there were many more red flags but I tried hard to be ok with it. My fianće and I went to dinner with them and her bf seemed funny. But Gem blew me off a lot. We barely talked and I didn’t have much help with wedding stuff. I did mostly on my own. I tried not to hold this against her. At dinner I had asked if he wanted to come to the reception. But I specified that Gem would be busy and sitting at the head table. He laughed it off and said it was fine. He didn’t need to come.
On the day before my wedding, her bf was nowhere to be found in the morning when he was supposed to be giving her a ride to my city an hour away. She called me crying causing a bunch of stress. She told me that her boyfriend said he was going to call ME the bride and tell me that Gem was being a bitch. My shudders went closed on him in that moment. I told her to just get here when she can. My fiancé and I had errands to run.
She made it to my house after a bunch of drama and guilt tripping from her boyfriend. He was insinuating that she would be hanging out with other men at my wedding. (This is just the tip of the iceberg, this guy was seriously paranoid and abusive). She spent the day bitching about him while I told her she should end it. We had a rehearsal dinner that night and then my mom was spending the night with me and Gem and my daughter at our house, while my fianće and the boys were at his dad’s.
All night Gem was distraught. Leaving the house to go talk to her bf, while I pretended not to care. I was determined to not let her ruin anything but it was hard. My feelings were deeply hurt that she couldn’t just mute him for the night. Especially when he was being so abusive. Then she had the audacity to ask if could come after all. I said NO. My mom was flabbergasted. She left again to go talk to him and that’s when he messaged ME.
He was cruel, rude and disrespectful, saying that I should’ve let him come. I honestly barely remember the details of the message because I was so angry and heartbroken and it was all such insane bullshit. Still I pushed these feelings down so the night wouldn’t be ruined, even though it kind of was. I lost it on him and called him sick in the head and an abuser. He said “you don’t know my side” unbelievable. I blocked him.
Gem came back in and said “what did you say to him?” In an accusatory way and this is honestly the part that haunts me. It was the night before my wedding. This one night and day were supposed to be about me and I had this horrible man reaming me out and my friend not focused on me one bit. Not even a sorry for his actions. I don’t remember what I said and I again, just blocked it out. I was honestly scared for her as she couldn’t see how crazy he was being and seemed to have no idea how awful she was being herself.
The wedding day was wonderful. I put the stuff from the night before in the back of my brain and enjoyed myself. Though I was a bit cold to her throughout the day.
The next day I sent her a huge message telling her how awful it was and that she needed to end it with him. My husband and I went on our honeymoon and didn’t talk to anyone for a week. Gem did not end it with him and it took many more months. She eventually apologized to me. It’s been 10 months and I’m not over it. We’ve been friends for 20+ years and I’m not sure I even like her anymore. I’ve been struggling to even want to talk to her. Not sure where to go from here but it feels good to share this story. I honestly think some people are not capable of being selfless for their friends in their wedding day. Choose your bridesmaids wisely.

I’m scared of starting a family because of my dysfunctional family.
I’m scared of the idea of starting a family of my own because of the trauma my parents have given me.
For context, I’m F18 and I am lucky enough to be in an extremely healthy relationship with the one person I see myself marrying, but the idea of starting a family on the long run absolutely terrifies me.
I absolutely love my partner, I love our relationship and there is no one else I see myself being with, we did talk about how we wanted our future to look like and he hinted that he’d eventually want kids and I would be lying if I said that this doesn’t scare me to the core.
I know I’m still young, and I’m not planning on starting a family for a long time, it’s just that the idea of having to share my partner with someone else just scares me and I know how selfish this sounds, I know that this is a clear sign that there could be some underlying issues that need to be addressed, I am self aware enough to know that I need to get to the bottom of this because if this isn’t some trauma caused by my dysfunctional family, I don’t know what is.
I love kids, for a while I actually changed my mind and after overcoming a hard time, I realized how much I needed my mom, therefore the idea of being able to give that emotional support to someone in the future made me look at motherhood in a completely different way, and for a while I thought that I had “overcome” my fear of having children, but ever since the relationship with my father has drastically changed throughout the years, I realized that there is so much I need to heal from.
My father is no longer the loving and caring man he used to be when I was younger and now turned into an aggressive and emotionally abuse individual who shows no sign of empathy whatsoever, I just cannot comprehend how someone can be aware of how mean and harsh they can be and not feel bad for the slightest bit. I just cannot recognize him anymore and I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that our relationship is never going back to how it used to be.
My mom, on the other side is the opposite and this is truly a blessing I’m insanely grateful for because throughout all my ups and downs, which have been many in my adolescence:,), she’s always been there for me in ways my father hasn’t, and although she has made many mistakes that had a huge impact on my life, she managed to show regret for all the hurt that was caused, which shows the differences between her and my other parent.
Sometimes all I want from them is to apologize for what they did and so far my mom is the only one who managed to do so. Earlier this year i’ve started going to therapy and after a few trials and errors done in the past, I can proudly say that I’ve found the right therapist for my needs and so far seeing her has helped me tremendously and I’m looking forward to opening up more and digging more into the darkest depths of my soul.
But the idea of eventually having kids just makes me.. sad? Scared? A mix of both? If I were to have kids I know for a fact that I would try my hardest to not repeat any of my parents mistakes. I would love them more than anything and wouldn’t want them to go through what I went through, but that’s the thing. I’m scared that a part of myself is so permanently scarred that once I’ll have a child and give them everything I wasn’t able to experience (such as a normal family dynamic), a part of myself will forever be unconsciously envious. I’m scared that I’d just want my partner to myself and not want to share him with anyone else, but trust me I know how ridiculous that sounds.
If anyone is still reading this I want you to know that you are not your trauma. You are not a projection of your parents flaws. You are your own person and you’re extremely loved. Thank you for letting me share how I feel, I wish you all the best.

Me: Wouldn't it be fun to wait to post this in the summer so you can say happy Christmas in July for once? Also me: that's a terrible joke. Just publish the thing.
Apologies for publishing in 2 parts. I'm not trying to drag it out I'm just aware this is the length of 2 episodes, reddit will only allow me 20 pics per post, and there's just too much going on for our beloved idiot in this one, so. I'm pacing myself.
It's not Christmas in July, it's Christmas 1919 at Downton and I spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering if Mr Fellowes really wants me to believe that the Crawleys decorated the Goliath of Christmas trees themselves (they didn't, but I like that Mary was sipping her tea and offering her view on things. Queen👑 ).
Plus, the setup for this episode intro had an actual checklist:
Tree? Check
Family arriving? Check
Violet judging this year's Christmas cards and looking for the contenders for worst cards of the year (they judge them on both content, and actual card)? Check
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Anna gets a gold heart brooch from Mary and Mrs Hughes is as excited about it as she is. Also, I can see the inspo for the entire Anna/Mary tag on AO3 right here. And Mrs Hughes ships it.
Just kidding, Bates is in prison, and we're all very sad.
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Carlisle is wondering why the Crawleys are being kind to their servants by letting them have some time off at lunchtime on Christmas Day, and I'm wondering if anyone (namely, us, the viewers) is supposed to be surprised by his behaviour.
I mean, blackmailing Lavinia just because? Blackmailing Mary into an engagement with him? Trying to manipulate Anna and Carson? Being physically abusive to Mary, and trying to control her life and behaviour? Bringing Lavinia back to "sacrifice" her to a lifetime as Matthew's nurse, so Mary won't spend that much time with Matthew (not because there was something off about that, just that Carlisle didn't want her to)?
He is an asshole. He was an asshole. He will always be an asshole. Glad we're finally all on the same page.
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Matthew and Mary are exchanging presents behind Robert's head in one scene and I'm very upset by it. Please, if anyone has any ideas, submit what you think they got each other for Christmas.
If you need any inspiration, here's what people would buy each other as presents in the 1920s according to the British Newspaper Archives:
Lots of cigarette paraphernalia Cocktails Banjos PENCILS Dance Frocks Shaving Kits Vacuum Cleaners
Keep that list in mind if you're disappointed with your presents next year.
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Matthew got a telephone call telling him that Mr Swire is very ill, and he will got to London to visit him. Mary gives him some condolences and he says "I'm sorry if I'm casting a gloom". I have a feeling the poor man had been pretty depressed for quite long, probably perked up a bit for Christmas and thought he was bringing the mood down again, but Mary responds with compassion. Oh Matthew.
Carlisle saw Mary go after Matthew in the hall, to ask about Mr Swire, and literally took his newspaper with him and followed her out there because that's completely normal behaviour. Just picture the ridiculousness of it: Mary and Matthew talking about Mr Swire and Bates' trial, romantic themes that they are, and Carlisle is so annoyed by it he's standing there in the background. Reading a newspaper, just to make sure they know he's still around (who could forget, mate).
Also, Mary saying she'll attend Bates' trial to support Anna, and Matthew immediately going "Would you like me to go with you?". Because of course he wants to support Mary in all things.
And this is Matthew's first villainous act for the episode: He asks Carlisle "or will YOU do that?" as in, since you're here, will you be supporting Mary in this endeavour.
Of course he isn't. Carlisle could never understand the concept of being there as emotional support for a Servant. He can't even understand why one would give a servant a few hours off on Christmas Day.
And just like that, Matthew scores one point in showcasing that Carlisle is a waste of space.
Matthew's Villainy points so far: 1
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Btw, Matthew has a few sets of looks reserved for Carlisle: Derision, derision, and more derision.
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They're playing charades (aka The Game), Mary is mimicking falling down, Matthew has a front row seat to it, and they're not playing on the same team so she can't rely on him to guess. Which means he can sit back and have the time of his life.
Carlisle complains about not liking the game and I'm left to wonder why he wanted that life so much since he could find nothing to enjoy in it.
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Mary IS still trying with him, however. He complains again on New Years Eve about the servants having some time off, and she reasons that it only happens twice a year, and he complains again that she doesn't understand because she didn't have to work for what she has.
Fellowes finally does the work on these two. I was having a conversation with another user recently, who was wondering why Mary picked Carlisle when she could have picked someone like Evelyn Napier.
Let's forget the Pamuk Scandal for a moment. Mary clearly wanted something more other than a traditional marriage. When we meet her, she's 21. She already has a husband in her pocket, if all she wanted was a position in society and a title, she'd have already been married to Patrick in 1912. But clearly, she wanted more out of life than to be someone's wife.
She wanted love, and she wanted to have something to do, whatever that was. She would have found both in Matthew, if things hadn't gone to complete shit, so why not consider Carlisle (back when he seemed normal)?
He was a working, self-made man, so he was interesting to her. He wasn't the run-of-the-mill rich boy she'd been exposed to her entire life, and if she married him she'd have a job in establishing him in London society and helping him build his empire. She'd Work, in short. She'd be allowed to use her brain.
But they don't match. At all. He offered her a marriage of convenience, and then was upset that she loved someone else, when Carlisle never offered her love in the first place. She wanted to be able to go about her life, he wanted her under his thumb to do his bidding. She was raised to have a certain respect for other people (e.g. the servants in the house), he thought that because he had money he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
In short, they don't work together. Not even taking into account he was blackmailing her with a scandal, and Matthew was off stage left being Villainous (according to Carlisle. Villain, Perseus, it's all a matter of perspective.)
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I love how they contrast Carlisle's ruthlessness with Matthew's compassion (and look how she looks up to him). Because Matthew is also a working man, but he's kind. And even though he didn't have any connection to mr Swire anymore, he stood by him in his hour of need, to the bitter end.
Speaking of contrasting Carlisle's assholery to Matthew:
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Rosamund's WhatsHisFace of a suitor points out there's only three women following the shoot, and they should divide their time between the men taking part in said shoot (God forbid women are not around to entertain these assholes gents). Carlisle immediately rebuffs him before Mary can get a word in, saying "Lady Mary will stand by ME". Mary is about to, very politely, put him in his place, when Matthew comes in for his second act of Villainy so far, saying "I thought you said you'd stand by me for the first shoot, isn't that what you said?"
He doesn't push her to go with him, he's just giving her an exit plan. So that Mary doesn't have to bring herself in an awkward position in front of all those people, to defend her right to an opinion. And Mary takes it. Of course she does. She can show Carlisle he doesn't get to dictate what she does, and do so in a way that doesn't create gossip.
Matthew's Villainy points so far: 2
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Look how he looks at her. He's so happy she took him up on it. Whatever else happened beyond this, they were friends. He cared for her, and she cared for him. And he has her back here, and she accepted it, so easily. And that made him happy (and so, so smug. A true Villain).
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She loves how un-selfconscious he is. She's always loved it, all those years ago at the flower show when he'd mock himself for her benefit, to make her laugh. He does it here still but now she's not surprised by it, just endlessly fond. Dozens of men spent years showing off their (probably mediocre) skills, to win her favour, and of course she'd fall for the guy who was just being honest. Mary likes honesty, she never got much of it. Her world is a show of mirrors where nothing is what it seems, and it must have been so refreshing to be with someone who was exactly what he showed the world. It's only sad that it took her so long to realise that just as she loved him for who he was, he'd do the same. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
"He does rather beg to be teased" - this asshole has been deliberately messing with Carlisle for ages, hasn't he. I've only counted 2 Villainy points, but I bet he earned himself dozens before. Whenever he'd get pissed off at something Carlisle said he'd just whisk Mary away, just to show him that he could, even if Carlisle was the fiance, Matthew was still an important person in her life, and he'd always be, and he made sure Carlisle knew that (and took great, great enjoyment in it).
Mary: The awful truth is, he’s starting to get on my nerves. Still, you’re not the person to burden with that.
Matthew: You’re still going to marry him, though.
Mary: Of course. Why wouldn’t I.
Matthew is not happy about this. He appears to not understand it, and I wish I could give him a a nice shake. Regardless of the information he doesn't have, Matthew, mate, it's not like she hasn't met other men. Like it or not, most of your lot back in the day belonged in the bin.
And Mary, as a high-society woman, didn't have a lot of options. She had to get married. And at least Carlisle wanted to buy Haxby, she'd be near her family, spend time in London. Before she'd have hoped to actually get some work done, within the capacity her marriage would allow her, but with things being as they are with Carlisle I think she's now hoping he'd be busy with his work and she could get on with her days and maybe not see much of him, as most couples of their class did. And that's not taking into account the actual reason why Mary thinks she absolutely Must marry Carlisle.
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Also, Matthew, let's not pretend you'd like any man she brought home. So either take a deep breath and confess some things, or get on with it.
Carlisle asks Mary why she and Matthew were laughing together. He asks "Am I never to be free of him?" and her answer is, of course not. Because, of course not. First of all, sorry to say Richard, but, they're a package deal.
I can't see either one of them giving up the other willingly, not after all this. But of course, the main thing is the aristocracy thing. He's the head of the family, you'll see A Lot of Matthew, if you and Mary get married. And Matthew has spent almost every minute of the episode so far making sure Richard knows this. One would say, he's trying to push him out (like a villain), through his sheer presence in Mary's life.
"I might understand if you let me think for a solitary minute that you preferred my company to his."
Here's another problem: He should know, this wasn't part of their terms. Of course, he's not an aristocrat, so he's not aware of how loveless marriages of convenience work, but since it WAS a loveless marriage of convenience he was offering, I wonder why THE FUCK, he demands her attention now.
Mary would perform her duty to him. She'd be the best hostess London ever saw. She'd be the pretty wife on his arm, and she'd charm his contacts, and she'd be the stepping stone for him to be accepted in aristocratic circles, and she'd give him children and hold his house. And yes, she'd love spending time with her family, and that included Matthew.
Richard is just being a petty, controlling, fuck. Because he wants more than she's willing to offer, and he wants more than what he'd originally asked. So he, can shove it.
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Richard: I’ve done everything I can to please you.
Mary: Do you mean you bought a large and rather vulgar house?
Richard: You cannot talk to me like that! What have I done to deserve it? What?!
Would you like a list of your crimes, Richard? I've posted it a bit further above.
Also, Mary. She was hoping he'd offer her an interesting life (before he turned out to be an asshole). But all he's offered so far is the same old bullshit she's been offered all her life: A big empty (emotionless) house.
A demanding husband. A life full of constraints and limitations, set to her by a husband who expects to dictate everything she does.
It's at this point that Matthew, clearly the villain of the story, shows up because he hears Richard yelling at Mary and that just won't do.
My beloved idiot covers for Richard here. And she does it because of something she said to Matthew before "He's starting to get on my nerves, but you're not the person to burden with that."
She doesn't want Matthew to feel like he has to come to her rescue. She heard him, when he told her they can't be together (many times) in the previous episodes. And she loves him, so she's let him be. She knows he's got his own troubles, that he's been through a lot, and that shows with how she watches him walk away with a fair bit of worry in her eyes. Plus, she doesn't want him to do anything for her out of obligation. She just wants them to be friends, and friends don't solve your marital (or, in this case, pre-marital) problems. They can provide comedic relief, and support, but that's about it.
And as we said, Matthew is clearly the villain of this story.
Speaking of which, Matthew interrupted Richard's yelling at Mary so, I guess that means - Matthew's Villainy points so far: 3
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Speaking of friends: Matthew will be there, for Mary (and Anna) at Bates' trial, and Mary asks to be there when he brings back Mr Swire's ashes, since the man wanted to be buried next to his daughter (who had to be buried at Downton, and not near her home in London, for maximum guilt-trip points I guess).
I love how those two care, and support each other in difficult times. It IS what friends do. Of course, Carlisle is not happy about that either. And listen, if he was in love with Mary, I'd be very understanding. I'd be telling him to cut his losses and run. I'd be empathising. But I'm like, you've been an absolute tool for years now mate, how am I supposed to see your POV, when you're basically worrying that if those two, at some point, get their heads out of their asses and realise they make a great couple, you'll lose your trophy wife you've trapped in a marriage, through sheer luck (on your end).
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Carlisle, after that entire day of watching Mary and Matthew having a nice time out with the family, pressures Mary to set a wedding date. Mary wants to wait, I guess she hopes for some godly intervention because she definitely doesn't see any other way out of her current situation, and he goes so far as to literally grab her, and in front of her family too.
I'm finally not the only one who wants to shoot him dead. Of course, Robert won't do anything about it because when has Robert ever done anything for Mary (so far), but Matthew looks tempted.
(I had to cut out poor Carson because there's too many people on this frame as it is, but shout out to him for also worriedly watching in the background).
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Matthew: Mary. Can I help?
Mary: After today, I won’t insult you by asking what you mean.
Matthew: You don’t have to marry him, you know. You don’t have to marry anyone. You’ll always have a home here as long as I’m alive.
First of all, I LOVE, that his reaction was to ignore Carlisle, run after Mary, and ask her if he can help. He's not offering to be a saviour. Mary doesn't need one of those (she does need to find that steel in her spine though). But he's offering to support her, and he says it in a way that implies he'd do pretty much anything she asked (Do you want to poison him? I'll help carry him to the pigs pen).
Second of all, Matthew, you absolute Idiot.
Mary supporting you in your grief, you supporting her with Bates' trial, that's normal friend behaviour.
You telling her she can LIVE with you forever, and so she doesn't have to Marry Any Man, is so, so dumb.
What is she going to live with you as, Matthew? Your cousin again? Where is the cousinl-y behaviour line drawn? Private dinners? Maybe with some candles and soft music? Holidays in Europe together?
Also, where is that imaginary limit you've put to your happiness with her for the sake of Lavinia's (very real, according to canon) ghost, mate?
You clearly seem happy enough to spend time with Mary, support her, laugh with her. Is it just the romance that's killing your mood?
Is it that that's the harshest punishment Matthew could imagine, spending his life next to Mary without actually spending his life WITH her, or is it that in spite of how much he wanted to suffer for his mistake, he just couldn't bring himself to cut ties entirely? Or is it that her happiness was more important than his self-imposed martyrdom, so he couldn't keep himself away and let her throw away her life for God knows what (her own mistake, is the answer, because they both like making themselves suffer for past sins. They've got A LOT in common).
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Mary: Didn’t the war teach you never to make promises? And anyway, you’re wrong. I do have to marry him.
Matthew: But why? Not to prove you’ve broken with me, surely? We know where we stand. We’ve no need for...gestures.
Mary: If I told you the reason, you’d despise me, and that I really couldn’t bear.
She makes me so sad. She's so certain she'll be ruined and kicked out of her house if the scandal ever came out.
And I get it. It was how she'd been raised. And all she's heard so far is how she's "a slut" and "damaged goods" and Mary's self-image is in tatters. She doesn't view herself as anyone worth fighting for, she doesn't want anyone else to fight for her, and she won't even fight for herself, and to me that's the saddest part of all.
She's entirely defeated, has been for a long time. This entire season. She's taken every blow and hasn't dodged them at all. Welcoming Lavinia, accepting Matthew as a friend and nothing more. Being by his side when he got injured, taking care of him and accepting his rejection without a peep. Listening to him announce his wedding and helping Lavinia plan it. Baring herself to Carlisle, giving him "the tools to destroy her", willingly, to salvage the family name, and to help Bates. And later letting Matthew call her, and himself "cursed", and walking away from it, somehow. Probably because she believes it.
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She told Carson, after Pamuk died, that "she knows what it means to be happy, but she knows she herself will never be happy" and she has proved to have embraced that sentiment, fully. Her despair back then is reflected here. Mary is not looking for happiness. She's just looking for cover. Some place where she can be sure she won't be hurt anymore.
She didn't believe that would be in a marriage with Matthew, and Matthew's strict morals so far, and his own self-hatred, have only further proven to her that she had been correct. She thinks that if Matthew can't excuse himself a kiss with a woman he loved, he won't ever excuse her having sex with a man she didn't love. And for all the unhappiness, all the cold comfort she sees in her future, she at least has his friendship. And how could she ever risk losing that? What would she be left with? Who else is there in the world, that supports her like he has? Her mother, who brought back Lavinia to push her away from Matthew? Her father? Who values the family above all else? Nothing. And no one. Just Matthew.
So she can bear Carlisle's cruelty, his moods and his demands. And she can bear the thought of living life on his arm to be paraded around London society for his benefit. But she can't bear the thought of Matthew thinking ill of her. Can't bear having him look at her the way her mother, or her sister did. And she's so honest here in her pain. She hasn't shown any of it, of the backloads of it, to anyone other than Anna, all season. But she can't keep it in now, after all that, in front of Matthew.
My poor broken child 💔
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She hears Cora yell her name and there's despair in her eyes. Even now she has family obligations to fulfil, so whatever emotional breakthrough she could have made, gets interrupted because heaven forbid she's not there for the Crawleys to play card games with.
Before I forget, Matthew goes after Mary, hoping to help her in her hour of need therefore, Matthew's Villainy points so far: 4
Matthew directs that accusatory look to Cora and I'm so proud of him for that. Cora's involvement in Mary's life has been nothing short of catastrophic. With her only saving grace being the fact that she wasn't actually willing to throw her daughter out of her house. I don't know how she gets to be so worried about the situation now, considering it's, largely, of her own making.
This whole season has been about pain and loss, in its various forms. And Mary's has been largely contained, because that's who she is, she keeps everything close to her heart, especially the things that hurt her. But it's all spilling out in this episode. There's so many things she can't contain, like Carlisle's jealousy, her own grief, at this point, after so many years. And for all those who look, it's the most obvious thing in the world, that Mary is suffering.
Well. Almost all.
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Robert calls Carlisle grabbing Mary in front of her family "an awkward moment", and calls Mary "tired" of Carlisle.
Yes, Robert. Of all the things Mary is feeling at the moment, tiredness is one of them. Not sure if it's the most obvious one, but with you I've learned to bring a small basket.
He also, unlike Matthew, doesn't respect Mary enough to go up to her and ask her if she needs anything from, idk, her father. Some help, some advice. He asks his wife to tell him if he's overlooked anything, and how is the answer to that not "Pretty much everything that's ever happened in this house".
And at this point, I will leave you, because we're half way through and I've already hit both my word, and my image limit. The first one is self-imposed, for the second one, send your grievances @ reddit.

I’m scared of the idea of starting a family of my own because of the trauma my parents have given me.
For context, I’m F18 and I am lucky enough to be in an extremely healthy relationship with the one person I see myself marrying, but the idea of starting a family on the long run absolutely terrifies me.
I absolutely love my partner, I love our relationship and there is no one else I see myself being with, we did talk about how we wanted our future to look like and he hinted that he’d eventually want kids and I would be lying if I said that this doesn’t scare me to the core.
I know I’m still young, and I’m not planning on starting a family for a long time, it’s just that the idea of having to share my partner with someone else just scares me and I know how selfish this sounds, I know that this is a clear sign that there could be some underlying issues that need to be addressed, I am self aware enough to know that I need to get to the bottom of this because if this isn’t some trauma caused by my dysfunctional family, I don’t know what is.
I love kids, for a while I actually changed my mind and after overcoming a hard time, I realized how much I needed my mom, therefore the idea of being able to give that emotional support to someone in the future made me look at motherhood in a completely different way, and for a while I thought that I had “overcome” my fear of having children, but ever since the relationship with my father has drastically changed throughout the years, I realized that there is so much I need to heal from.
My father is no longer the loving and caring man he used to be when I was younger and now turned into an aggressive and emotionally abuse individual who shows no sign of empathy whatsoever, I just cannot comprehend how someone can be aware of how mean and harsh they can be and not feel bad for the slightest bit. I just cannot recognize him anymore and I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that our relationship is never going back to how it used to be.
My mom, on the other side is the opposite and this is truly a blessing I’m insanely grateful for because throughout all my ups and downs, which have been many in my adolescence:,), she’s always been there for me in ways my father hasn’t, and although she has made many mistakes that had a huge impact on my life, she managed to show regret for all the hurt that was caused, which shows the differences between her and my other parent.
Sometimes all I want from them is to apologize for what they did and so far my mom is the only one who managed to do so. Earlier this year i’ve started going to therapy and after a few trials and errors done in the past, I can proudly say that I’ve found the right therapist for my needs and so far seeing her has helped me tremendously and I’m looking forward to opening up more and digging more into the darkest depths of my soul.
But the idea of eventually having kids just makes me.. sad? Scared? A mix of both? If I were to have kids I know for a fact that I would try my hardest to not repeat any of my parents mistakes. I would love them more than anything and wouldn’t want them to go through what I went through, but that’s the thing. I’m scared that a part of myself is so permanently scarred that once I’ll have a child and give them everything I wasn’t able to experience (such as a normal family dynamic), a part of myself will forever be unconsciously envious. I’m scared that I’d just want my partner to myself and not want to share him with anyone else, but trust me I know how ridiculous that sounds.
If anyone is still reading this I want you to know that you are not your trauma. You are not a projection of your parents flaws. You are your own person and you’re extremely loved. Thank you for letting me share how I feel, I wish you all the best.

I remember this movie that came our fairly recently about an irish or scottish 20-something year old man and american? woman who go back to the mans hometown which is really small,i think they are podcasters or something? they talk about how there were loads of disappearances a few years ago so they decide to figure it out, ​turns out it was the mans mum and dad who kidnapped them all and tortured them in a bunker i think the man was unique looking and the woman was mixed race, apologies if not :/ any help appreciated :)

Sorry if my English is bad, it's not my main language.
So I (26f) am not a person who likes conflicts, if my snack comes wrong I will probably tell you that it came wrong but I will eat it anyway and still be grateful, I have improved about this over the years, but I still hate creating conflicts.
Yet for a few years now I've been feeling fed up with nosy people or people who like to make nasty comments about people, so in a passive aggressive way I often rebut a comment in a way that can make them feel embarrassed. I will give some examples:
One time a friend of a friend saw my leg tattoo and made a joke about how ridiculous it was and what a tattoo it must have meant (I have a cat with glasses on my leg), I turned to him pretending to cry and said I got this tattoo with a friend of mine who unfortunately passed away, that was her cat (a lie, I got that tattoo in a flash), he apologized and walked away. Or another time a co-worker made a comment about my blouse being tacky and I said it was the only thing my grandmother left me after she left (she's still alive).
You must have already understood, so last Saturday I went out with friends of mine and a friend's boyfriend was with us, in my opinion he is Your Majesty the king of assholes, he loves to make derogatory comments, no one in the group likes him and we always avoid him, We didn't know he was coming, it didn't take long and he started talking about everyone's appearance, how much my friend had gained weight, he made fun of our friend who was cheated on by his girlfriend saying that his little friend should be small, he humiliated his girlfriend by saying how ugly she was and today she got better, and it was like that all night. But then he got to me, I normally accept the comments and stay quiet while he laughs to himself, but that day I was tired, so he talked about my short haircut saying that I looked like a man, so I sighed deeply, I looked to him and said it was due to the chemotherapy. We were in a public place and he was silent and stopped laughing, people were giving him dirty looks and for the first time that night he shut up, I said everything was fine and changed the subject, two minutes later he left alone.
As soon as he went, some of my friends started laughing, since many of them already know this side of me, to the others it was explained that as soon as they understood they laughed a lot, but his girlfriend got angry and called me an idiot, saying it's cruel Embarrassing people, it made me think, am I wrong by having these attitudes?

First Previous
"Arran of many stags, the sea strikes at her shoulders, companies of men can feed there, blue spears are reddend amongst her boulders. Merry hinds are on her hills, juicy berries are there for food, refreshing water in her streams, nuts in plenty in the wood."
-Agalllamh na senorach-
"Don't say goodbye, wish me luck and a swift return."
Sorcha's words echoed in Robert's head as he watched the transports race the local star into the sky. Robert was the last to leave the cargo bay, wanting to remain in her presence for as long as possible. It was childish now that he thought of it, but it had earned him a long, deep kiss and a promise she would come back to him soon.
The port where they had been dropped off was located on a cliff overlooking the sea, and the golden light of dawn was echoed on the incoming waves. Beyond the tarmac, grass and bushes grew unhindered and thin trees towered over the terminal. Robert led the 449th toward the building which was built to resemble something out of a story book. A faux thatch roof hung over white walls resembling rough hewn stone while a clocktower with a black slate roof rose from behind. It was a beautiful example of deceptive architecture to give a weary traveler a sense of tranquility. The main concourse radiated the same fairy tale charm with shops lining the interior between cobblestone walkways and a grassy area with long wooden benches under manicured alder trees.
To the casual observer it was a welcome distraction from the busy day to day worries of modern life, to the former convicts who were used to concrete, reinforced walls and armed guards it was heaven on earth. Robert's troops ignored the benches to lay in the soft grass, a luxury unaffordable to the soldier and the convict alike, drawing looks of curiosity from travelers as well as shop workers and Robert had to fight the urge to join his men in this simple pleasure. Finding a seat on a bench, he sufficed himself by running his left hand through the soft blades where the unit colors had been planted.
"How long have you all been fighting?" A stranger asked.
"Feels like forever." Robert replied feeling a pang of guilt at not telling the whole truth.
"Just passing through?" The stranger inquired.
"Here to stay, at least for a while I hope." Robert said.
The strangers face brightened and his eyes reflected the smile that he wore.
"Fáilte Abhaile Óglaigh," He said before continuing to his gate.
Gallóglaigh was the only word Robert knew in Gaelic, and it became apparent that he would have to learn quickly as other people took notice of the rag-tag unit relaxing in the grass. Gallóglaigh meant young soldier he surmised, so óglaigh probably meant soldier, but 'saighdiúir' as well as 'laoch' was also directed at him and his men. Laoch sounded bad, but the people who said it smiled and shook hands with him. 'Saighdear' sounded like 'saighdiúir' and he had no idea what 'ghaisgich' meant, but every face told them how happy they were to meet them. 'Tha gaol agan ort' and 'Is Breà liom tú' found their way to his troops, mostly from women and a number of them tried to pronounce the words themselves which caused more confusion and a few impromptu lessons on pronouncing the words followed by a kiss on the cheek or forehead.
Robert was seriously considering reigning in his troops when he heard a more familiar language from a weathered older man with an amused smile.
"May I assume you're Colonel Grant of the 449th?"
"Yes sir." Robert replied.
"Perfect, I'm your escort, Brian McMurray," he said, "whenever you're ready please follow me."
Robert was able to contain the enthusiasm of his rowdy batch of heathens before they could caused any trouble, to the further amusement of their escort, and they wove their way through the port with the expert guidance of Brian McMurray who led them to several busses waiting just outside the passenger entrance. Troops were filed onto four of the vehicles and Robert was guided to an open deck with his officers while the lower deck of the front vehicle would carry the remaining troops. Brian sat in the front and swiveled his seat around to address them.
"I do apologizefor not having an air transport to meet you, but the MacSweeney family was able to charter these coaches at the last minute." Brian said as the coaches began to move.
"MacSweeney?" Hobbs said under his breath.
"Shut up Cyrano." Robert ordered.
"It's alright Colonel," Brian said, "Yes Captain, Laird Collin MacSweeney, Governor of Arran. Have you heard about him before?"
Hobbs eyes grew wide and he shook his head to indicate he hadn't. Robert turned a shade of red, Jacob and Derrick had the common sense to hold their tounges. Thomas on the other hand...
"Collin MacSweeney, son of Aaron MacSweeney, current lord of the MacSweeney family. Descending from Suibhne O'Niall, chieftain of Argyll. Aaron MacSweeney, settled Arran with the last Gaelic speaking people from Ireland and Scotland in order to preserve their heritage."
"Thank you,Captain Reed." Robert said, half relieved Hobbs had been bailed out, and half curious how Thomas knew so damn much.
"Rather impressive summary I must say," Brian replied, "anywho, the languages you were having trouble with and the history of this world will be made available to your troops, please do study it to prevent any unfortunate misunderstandings. We should be arriving in Brodick Castle shortly."
"If I may," Robert asked, "What is the history and population of Arran?"
"Certainly," Brian replied, "Arran Colony was started with the last 1000 Irish and Scots Gaelic people on Earth. With a bit of hard work and luck we settled the planet as an agriculture world, primarily ranching but expanding into other crops and fishing as well as natural textiles and some light mining and mineral refinement. Today Arran has a population of just over four million."
4 million, from the look of the small port town which hugged the harbor you wouldn't know it.
"And the port city?" Robert inquired.
"Brodick." Brian explained. "The harbor on this island is almost an exact match of Brodick on Earth, so the island was named Brodick as well as the city we just passed through and the MacSweeney family have called it home ever since."
"Brod..."
Robert shot Hobbs a murderous glance before he could finish and the rest of the trip was conducted in silence.
The chartered coaches pulled onto a gravel driveway in front of an amazing castle, built stone by stone into an exact replica of the one on Earth. Troops were ordered to disembark and form ranks below a massive tower that loomed regally over them. An equally impressive man exited to greet the arrived troops, wearing a fine wool suit and a red and black kilt shot through with yellow covered slightly by a leather sporran with polished silver trim. Robert waited for Hobbs to call it a skirt, and was thankful that he remained silent.
"Fáilte Abhaile." Laird MacSweeney said in a neutral tone.
"Apologies sir," Robert replied nervously, "but the men don't speak much Gaelic yet."
"No worries," Laird MacSweeney said, "but 500 does not a regiment make."
"No sir." Robert replied. "We are what's left from Diani unfortunately."
Laird MacSweeney nodded quietly. "We shall have to remedy that. Carry on."
Robert rendered a salute "On the orders of the Terran Military, The 449th Infantry Regiment has been reassigned to Arran SIR!"
Laird MacSweeney returned the salute and began to speak.
"I know who you are and where you came from. I expect all of you to act like civilized people, not the convicts you were previously. Think carefully how you conduct yourselves here on Arran. Housing accommodations for the command staff will be here at the castle, company commanders and enlisted will be housed temporarily in a hotel in the city. This is your second chance gentlemen, you will not recieve leniency from me or my people."
Laird MacSweeney paused momentarily to let the warning sink in.
"With that being said, you are owed three months of pay, which has already been taken care of, and I believe a week furlough is in order to acclimatize you to Arran. Be responsible and respectful, but please enjoy yourselves. Colonel Grant."
Robert nodded and rendered salute again before turning and shouting "DISMISSED!"
The unit cheered at their freedom, but returned the the coaches in a somewhat orderly fashion. Robert tensed slightly at the thought of what they might do if not under watch, and the hand placed lightly on his shoulder made him flinch inside.
"Calm yourself Colonel," Laird MacSweeney said in a gentle tone, "You have a lot of work ahead of you yo get your unit properly organized, but you've done an excellent job considering."
"Thank you sir." Robert replied. "If I might ask, what does Fáilte Abhaile mean?"
Laird MacSweeney chuckled as Robert turned to face him.
"We shall have to remedy that as well." Laird MacSweeney replied.
"Fáilte Abhaile means Welcome home."

Umm hello, please don't judge me harshly, I'm seeking advice. I am aware I'm fucked up badly. I will not be using real names in this. My cousin (M22) and I (F20) have been through a lot together. From abusive parents to being SA'd by another relative of ours. If my parents were abusing me he'd step in and fight them off or take the punishment with me. Not long he started lashing out at everyone and he became a trouble maker so they shipped him off to a military boot camp, that was the moment I knew I loved him. It was when I thought I'd never see him again. When he left my family used me as their punching bag, mentally and sometimes physically. So without his uplifting words or his distractions I started to find different alternatives to cope with the adjustment of his departure and the cruel things that continued to happen to me. In the span he was gone I tried attempting to off myself 7 times before I just called it quits (because I gaslit myself into him getting out and thinking we would runaway together)and started cutting and burning myself instead. Needless to say when he got out he changed so much. He didn't smile, he didn't look at me, I ran up and hugged him and he didn't react at all. He picked up habits like smoking and drinking. His physical appearance changed. He was stronger, buffer, and he had a sharper jawline. The man was handsome. After a week of him being back home he didn't come to see me and he didn't allow me to see him. If he did he'd be around the cousin he knew hurt me sexually. If he saw me get hit or degraded he wouldn't do anything but stare at them while I stared at him. What hurt most is when my mother made us all go to church and the pastor called me out because I wrote suicide notes to each of them and I had a failed attempt to off myself through her diabetic medication but for some reason I lived again. I remember taking the whole bottle and still waking up the next morning by my mother yelling at me for being depressed and tired. Anyway she took us to church and the pastor read the letters out loud and I was forced to kneel in front of the entire church and beg for an apology. My cousin just stood there staring at me again. He didn't react until my rapist started laughing under his breath so he let out a laugh that didn't sound like his regular laugh. This day I never forgot, the embarrassment the humiliation I felt. So I decided to run away that same day but didn't make it far because I got caught by my cousin, he didn't tell anyone but he made sure to keep a close eye on me. Half my family decided to move to California including his immediate family but he decided to stay I still don't know why. Years later (today's time/2 weeks ago) he confesses to me he is in love with me and he has loved me since we were children. For some stupid reason I believed him because those were words I've wanted to hear all my life. Even from back then he changed, he no longer looked at me, he just laughs or join in with their criticisms or insults. But at least no one hits me now. I decided to give this relationship thing a try and it was great, he even started to stick up for me again a little but he doesn't want to get me in more trouble with us being related and in love with each other. Or so I thought. He has a high sex drive and I thought it was normal because he is a guy and according to my mother men in this family does. The first time we had sex together he was rough, he didn't listen to my request or if I yelled at how painful it was, and I didn't even want to finish due to how much pain he left me in. I'm pretty sure it's my fault because I believed his lies still hold on to who he was before he was forced to leave all those years ago. He also didn't use a condom when I asked him to bring them. We got in a argument after and he said something that I don't believe he would ever do. The argument was because my guy friend from college texted me hey (despite me finding over 5 women in his phone) and I never answered him back because I know this guy friend wanted more than to be friends. So after he threw my clothes at me, called me a whore despite him being my first, and stormed out of my room I followed him to clear up what was going on. The words stung but I brushed them off. He was sitting in the living room and I sat beside him trying to get my point across until he said "We are fucking related, its not like we are in a real relationship anyway." That shut me up completely. My heart hurt and I cried on the spot. So I yelled at him for the first time (I said: What do you call this then, this was your first and last time with me you will never have access to me or my heart again) and he got madder. I have never seen him move so fast it was scary. He got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head and slapped me. The look in his eyes terrified me he said I belonged to him and he didn't need my permission to have his way with me. After he said that he kissed me roughly when I didn't respond to his kiss he bit my lip hard and I screamed in pain while he inserted his tongue in my mouth. The only reason he left me alone was because my phone started ringing and it was my mother who was calling to see if I cleaned her house, after I hung up the phone he started crying and begging for me to forgive him. I did. He still reminds me of who he was until he went to that boot camp. I still see it in him. Now its been a week since this happened and he has went back to his old ways of a high sex drive. He still doesn't like wearing condoms so he doesn't. He doesn't pull out though I tell him to and sex is still painful for me. After sex today he told me that I wanted it. He wanted me to have a baby for him, he wanted to trap me with him. I don't understand. I feel disgusted, used, and heart broken. I watched him get dressed and walk out the door with a smile on his face. I'm afraid if I resist his advances he'll take it without my consent and I'd see him just like every other abuser in my family. I'd rather it this way then seeing him as an evil person. I don't want to see him differently he's the only one I have. Is there any advice you can help me with? I'm almost done with my degree and it's not even in a career I want this is my mothers dream job. But I'm going to use it because I worked for it. At the moment I have no job and I don't think going to the police would help anything. What should I do here?

Chapter 1

Concept art for Sybil
Of Men and Ghost Ships, Book 1: Chapter 19
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As Alen woke up from the procedure, his view was taken up by lots of tools and instruments and, of course, the woman in red. At least she seemed somewhat satisfied this time. "All his vitals are stable. Give him a few minutes for the last of the anesthesia to wear off, and he should be good to send back."
Alen tried to sit up, got light-headed, and laid back down. Instead, he looked over at the woman in red. "So it's done? You cut off my foot and replaced it?"
The woman's glare was icy cold as she answered. "I saved your life and gave you a temporary replacement for a mangled limb, yes."
Alen felt a little embarrassed, realizing how he must have sounded. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to imply I wasn't grateful. It's just a lot to take in, you know? But I appreciate everything you did for me and all." Then, realizing he didn't even know what to call her, he added. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just realized I don't know your name."
A little of the ice seemed to melt as the woman folded her arms. Her expression now looked bored, if anything, but somehow Alen felt like he was less on her bad side than a moment ago. "Yes, well, you may call me Sybil, and you're welcome, I suppose. Now, try sitting up again and see if you can put some weight on your new foot so I can see if there are any needed adjustments."
Alen sat up a little slower this time, and the world seemed content to stay in place. After another moment, he grabbed hold of a rail and eased himself down onto his feet, one of which was now shiny and metallic. As soon as it made contact with the ground, he felt a jolt shoot up through his leg and into his spine, and he immediately took all his weight off the foot and raised it, noticing it was heavier than before as he did so.
The woman in red gave him an indecipherable look. "Too much pain for you to handle?"
Alen shook his head. "Not pain exactly...but it felt...I don't know...wrong, I guess? It's kind of hard to describe..."
The woman tilted her head. "Kind of like it's asleep but not quite, right?"
Alen eased his foot down again and nodded. "Something like that, yeah..."
With a nod, the woman seemed satisfied. "That's to be expected. Now try taking a few steps while holding onto the railing for balance."
Alen took a few steps, and while his foot felt wrong, it got easier with every step. The woman nodded. "Alright. I'd recommend using a walking cane for a day or two until you get comfortable with the feeling. You may feel some pain from time to time, and there are several therapies we can use to deal with that, but for now, I want you to focus on learning to walk with your temporary foot."
A new voice Alen wasn't familiar with spoke up from behind him. "Huh, I didn't know you had such a nice bedside manner. Does that mean I just have to break a leg to get on your good side?"
Alen turned around to see a much more around-the-edges man watching. He looked like he might be a bit overweight, but Alen could tell under any fat also sat a considerable amount of muscle. The woman's voice dripped with acid as she responded to the man. "A polite cockroach is a more tolerable cockroach. You should try giving more respect if you want to receive it!"
The man chuckled. "I'd say right back at you, but that'd be starting a fight we don't have time for, so how about we call it a draw for now and move on. Now, how about we get you back to your friends, kid."
Remembering something the woman had said earlier, Alen turned back to her. "Wait, you mentioned therapies? Shouldn't you tell me about them now if I'm leaving the ship?"
The man shook his head. "Yeah, about that kid... Your stay has been somewhat extended. I'll explain as we walk." He then turned to Vanessa, who'd apparently been observing from the corner for a while. "You too. Erik is back with the rest of your people."
Vanessa nodded. "Then I shall accompany you."
-
As Carter explained the situation, the kid seemed quiet. He just shrugged it off as the kid was probably focusing on walking with his new foot and cane, but the kid spouted off as soon as he finished. "We have to go back and get them!"
Carter shook his head. "Even if the pirates haven't already picked them up, there's too many ships for us to deal with now. Sorry, but it's too late."
The kid didn't seem ready to give up as he glared at Carter. "You shouldn't have left them back there to begin with!"
Realizing the kid had been through a lot recently, Carter decided to take it a bit easy on him, but he still took a slightly harsh tone to drive home what he was about to say. "Listen, kid, as much as you wish it wasn't so, in this universe, 'should' and 'can' very rarely match up as much as you'd like. We did our best and gave the pirates a bloody nose on the way out, but you all shouldn't have picked that fight to begin with. If you want to blame someone for your troubles, blame your captain. Although I'd say he's already paid the price for his choices. So how about you just say thanks for saving your ass, and we move on, eh kid?"
The kid was quiet a moment before he responded, his voice sounding less confrontational than a moment ago. "Fine... thanks for saving my ass. But stop calling me kid. My name is Alen."
Carter nodded. "That's fair, Alen. Anyway, you seem to have gotten on one of Sybil's good sides, or at least as good a side as I've seen that part of her have, so I might put you in charge of making any requests your people might have while you're our guests. Think you're up to it?"
The kid, Alen, looked back at Vanessa, who didn't seem to have much to add, before turning back to Carter. "I guess? How long are we gonna be here, though? Can't you just drop us off at a nearby planet or station?"
Carter chuckled. "If only it were that easy. Try asking some of your more...experienced sailors about the Sybil. They might have an interesting story or two for ya! Don't worry too much, though. We'll do our best not to live up to all the stories."
That seemed to have distracted Alen enough so that he shut up for a bit, and they walked in silence the rest of the way.
-
Carter looked at the hold full of people. Well, full might have been an exaggeration. Even with the escape pods, they didn't take up a whole lot of room. In the end, they'd only pulled in about half the stranded crew on time, but they still outnumbered the Sybil's "crew" of one many times over, which meant some precautions needed to be taken.
As Alen rejoined the rest of his crew members, Carter stepped forward and raised his voice to be heard over the din of the bay. "Attention crew of the Trader's Vigilance. I am Carter, Captain of the Sybil on which you now reside. Some of you, particularly the older sailors, might be familiar with some of the stories about the Sybil. You might have been told that she's haunted and that no living person who's ever set foot in her halls has ever been seen or heard from again. I'll be honest with you; those stories are more true than not. However, this time, and this time only, the Sybil has agreed to make an exception to that second bit so long as you play by her rules!"
Of course, it was Erik who raised his hand to ask a question. Carter nodded toward the large alien. "Yes?"
Of course, the crazy alien was grinning. "You speak about your ship as though she is alive. Even more so than most captains!"
Carter nodded. "That's because she is! I'll say this, the Sybil can be temperamental, cruel, and even sadistic at times! You do NOT want to get on her bad side! Even I can't save you if you're stupid enough to do that!"
There was more than a bit of grumbling in response, and Carter held up his hands to get their attention. "Now, like I said, you all get a one-time exemption to that, so long as you play by her rules. They are as follows."
Carter held up a hand with the index finger pointing up. "First, during your stay here, you will be allotted access to one deck, including rooms to sleep in, a mess hall, bathrooms, and even a rec room, even if it's a little bare bones. You are not to leave that deck without my direct permission for any reason. Doing so WILL put your health, sanity, and life in extreme peril!"
More grumbling, and Carter held up his hand with two fingers raised. "Second, as long as you remain our guests, all weapons and armor must be left in the escape pods! If, for some reason, you wish to do any maintenance on them, you must do so within the confines of your pod. Removing weapons from the pod will be punishable by your immediate eviction from the ship, with or without your escape pod! And if there is any question about the Sybil's ability to detect weapons, let me tell you that right now, eleven of you have guns on your person, fifteen have knives, and thirteen of you have other weapons of less common or otherwise improvised design."
This time, the grumbling was louder, but Carter cut them off. "If you don't like that, you are welcome to remain in your escape pods as long as you prefer, and we'll arrange for food to be brought to you!"
A bit of the grumbling died down, and Carter decided to finish things up and raised his third finger. "Third and final, if something that seems like an AI appears and issues any order or commands to you, you are to obey those orders immediately and without question. They will not issue orders merely on a whim, but they do not have to explain their reasons either. Remember, you are their guests, and they are granting you a rare exception to their usual policy of not allowing outsiders to set foot within their halls. You'd do best to stay on their good side. Is that clear?"
This time, the mumbling went on a bit longer, and Carter allowed it for a moment before speaking again. "Alright. Those of you who want to remain in your pods are welcome to do so. The rest of you who currently have weapons on your person, please deposit them into your escape pods, and I'll take you to your deck."
There was a flurry of movement. Unsurprisingly, no one wanted to stay in the pods alone aboard a ghost ship. However, a moment later, Carter received a report from the girl through his earpiece. He walked up to one of the men and addressed them. "Excuese me, mister..?"
The man straightened up and even gave Cater a salute. Something that didn't sit too well with him. "Harris, sir!"
Carter nodded. "Well, mister Harris, I'm going to assume that you just forgot about the pocket knife you have in your lower cargo pocket on your pants and that you did not retain it with malicious intent, but you'll want to deposit it into your escape pod immediately."
The man, Harris, patted his pocket and grinned sheepishly enough that Carter couldn't tell if it was an act or not. "Of course, sir! My apologies!"
Carter just shook his head. "Don't apologize, just don't do it again. I won't be able to save you if you break a rule a second time."
The rest of the stranded crew sorted out their issues in relatively short order, and Carter led them to their temporary housing area.
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Well, sounds like almost all of the characters have gotten to know each other. Now to see how well they all get along!
My Wiki has all my chapters and stories, including the short series and stories that I write for an occasional change of pace or style!
As a reminder, "Of Men and Dragons" Books 1 and 2 are available to purchase in e-book or physical form. (Both softcover and hardcovers are available!) Book 3 is almost done being edited, so I'll just have to get the cover art and formatting done, and it will be available to purchase as well! Hopefully, in no more than a month or two! (Barring more Amazon drama like last time... fingers crossed!)
OMAD Book 1: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09NCPP3PP
OMAD Book 2: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ7FQ1ZJ

Almost a week ago, my (24M) girlfriend (22F) ended our two-year relationship. She was my first love, and I was hers, and I thought she would be the last. A few days ago, in a bad mood, I decided to download one of those famous dating apps to see if she would be there. In my mind, I was 99% sure that she wouldn't do such a thing because I thought our love was something special and at least deserved mourning, even if it ended.
As you might guess, after a few swipes, there she was. For a few minutes, I couldn't move; my heart was almost out of my chest. It was that easy for her—just a few days, maybe even right away after she broke up with me. It makes you feel very replaceable and disposable. After my shock passed, I was filled with anger and wrote her an angry message. I couldn't even say that I saw her profile; I just blocked her from everywhere.
Although it's very heartbreaking, this last incident finally made me throw away my rose-colored glasses. How naive I was. All I wanted was to be loved, and God knows I loved her dearly. However, her love always came with conditions. Now I am realizing that in our relationship, I always had to impress her, and I didn't even ask for anything in return. It was enough for me that she existed. I would do 9 out of 10 things she asked, and she would focus on the one thing I didn't do and ruin our days over it. She would constantly criticize me and always managed to make me feel like the worst man in the world. It didn't matter the topic; in our fights, I was always the guilty one. One time, she broke up with me because I said she wouldn't like a game, but somehow, in the end, I was the one begging for her to come back and apologizing.
My biggest fault in this relationship was having no boundaries. Since I loved her so much, I took everything she said as if it were written in a holy book. I let her change me. I ate vegan around her for two years out of respect. But when I told her that I didn't want to continue eating vegan and she had to accept that since I thought we'll get married someday and it's not sustainable going on like this, she couldn't respect me. I tried to buy her gifts, take her to trips even if I was broke but in the end I wasn't enough for her.
Only now, in the last possible step, am I finally able to realize that even though she did everything in her power to make me feel like the only problem in our relationship, and the reason of our breakup, she treated me so poorly and broke up with me because of her own reasons.
One good thing about breakups is that at least it makes you see the real faces of the people. Now I am seeing hers and honestly I am disgusted. I am hoping that one day I will stop missing her, loving her, and hating her. However, I don't think I will be able to forgive her.

My ex fiancé and I broke up in January for a month when I caught him playing video games consistently with another girl after I had begged him not to do so and I found him searching for a girl he met at the airport on the way to see me, he came back begging for forgiveness I had him blocked everywhere so he made an anonymous Instagram account followed me and messed me and made a post with an apology to me and my son
Fast forward a week later I took him back and he said he would do anything and wasn’t on dating apps anymore (our issues with infidelity first stemmed from him being on dating apps 6 months into our engagement) we were arguining about how arrogant he was being and unapologetic after coming back saying he was sorry then a week later after an argument he ghosted me for a day and I found out he had gone on a date that day with someone he had been talking to on tinder the whole time I took him back. I still had his logins and saw everywhere he was taking her fancy dinners, buying stuff for her birthday, museums everything he refused to do for me. He came back a week later and admit he met someone but didn’t like her anymore and broke up with her (which I did not believe) I asked him to show me proof and to send her a message saying he was back with his fiancé and he refused to do so. We were back together a week again before I found out he was still seeing her and he promptly cut me off he said it wasn’t for her but I knew. I found out they had sex 4 times and turns out her sex drive was low which is what they were arguing about and he was treating her like a prostitute for not putting out with how much money she was spending.
He keeps saying he didn’t cheat and he broke up with me and just started seeing someone new. He says he deserved it and we’re even now because I slept with someone a year ago after I had broken up with him for cheating on me by blocking me out of nowhere and going on a date with a coworker I had fully blocked him at this time for weeks no contact because I was desperate to move on.
I love this man more than anything he’s my dream man minus the loyalty and empathy problems I don’t know how to move forward. I had healed a great deal in January when he came back and I wasn’t strong enough to say no, I hate the idea of us not having our life together but I can’t keep dealing with this.

5:36 PM Wed 5/8/24
Mood: Terrible
Title: Alone
Details: Last year I was told that there is a whole universe out there of people to find. And that I was being endlessly supported and that people were inspired by me.
This year I learned what it's like to be hunted and chased away from goodness. It has been the worst year of my entire life and with the knowledge that there is a whole universe out there--I feel lonelier than I was before.
Not a single person wants well for me. I have to translate my thoughts, behavior, intentions, symptoms, and soul to everyone.
There hasn't been a single rest from it in over 330 days. Just endless messes and ridicule and mocking and advances and terrorism.
I'm thought I was tired of people. But I walk outside and love them so much. I learned I'm not tired of people. But I'm so so so tired of loneliness.
Being around others doesn't stop you from being lonely. Because I'm still translating. My thoughts and feelings are still not reaching and the obvious signals I send to others are being deflected and mistranslated.
I'm tired of translating for to others. On paper it's so easy to understand a person. Watching it's easy to understand and to judge. But actually reacting appropriately to context and injustice and neurodivergence even is so lost to people.
This is why I wanted to write my story. Because people don't know how to cope. They don't know how to accept bad things. They don't know the difference between bad people and good people and even today our societies are too primitive to understand it.
They're still theororizing, contemplating, changing information for their gain...never have I seen any type of science be so abstractly and subjectively defiled as I've seen happen with mental health and neurodivergence.
People cannot separate the symptom from the person and punish and subjugate and continue to dominate those less fortunate.
I'm glad I know what happens to people they don't like. I know how dangerous people can be.
I wish I had someone to protect me. So I still find myself praying and wishing for one person. Just one person I don't have to translate myself to. Just one person I don't have to have grow tired of me. Just one person I don't have to compete with.
Growing up I was used to competing. Siblings, cousins, friends. In public AND private school there's always someone or something to compete. Today I compete with my parents and yesterday I compete with women who love the one I thought I loved.
I grew accustomed to hating my own birthday because of jealousy around it because my uncle was upset he shared it with my brother and I. And because I could never have it the way I enjoyed later. Too much. I'm too much. Too far. Too long. Too attention-seeking.
I had my chance as a teen with two friends so why isn't that enough for me? My parents were happy that I finally was taking a break from illness but since I got what I asked for then I'm a spoiled ass. As if they ever treated me better even then. Golden children are still abused even when the roles swap. Because no pleasantness is atrocious.
My family told me I was fat and going to get diabetes and have a heart attack and die despite never talking to me and being in high school--where weight isn't even done being "distributed" until your mid twenties. Thanks to the prime golden child my sister.
I'm tired of fighting and competing to be heard and to have needs met and to come across as kind or kinder. It's killing me.
Why can't I ever just be me?
Why can't I ever just be my authentic self? The one I want to be as a form of worship? Me in all my phases and feelings?
Why do I have to stuff myself down or look beautiful when I'm suffering in order to be a good and kind person worth saving?
I understand Nettle so much now. I wish I never did.
If I didn't have vocal fry would I be loved? If I didn't have fat would I be loved? If I didn't have brown or blonde hair would I be loved? If I forgave my parents and suffered quietly would I be loved?
If I had sweet doe eyes or a light mousy voice would someone finally think I had autism?
The ones I see on tiktok are drop dead gorgeous women with huge colorful lives and opportunities and get to complain about "pretty privelege"
Some have a light airiness to them that make them seem like fae.
And there's me who never fits anywhere or with anyone.
I have nothing and no one and absolutely no point.
I was okay before--before I had drive and passion to find my people. Before I had dreams of finding my way and accomplishing things. Before I had just one person.
It's so cruel. The people in this world are so cruel. I just want one person.
One person from God--and loving can be worship too. I'm too tired for much else.
Just one person to save me from their damnation that seems to last forever.
I'm so exhausted all the time.
My body hurts. My head hurts. My nerves feel like nothing.
I feel hopeless. Empty. I feel like the woman from my dream.
I feel betrayed--like others saw my future and pushed me into it head first with some kind of pre-revenge. Pinched. Twisted. Groped. Lost. Forced.
Called an attention whore. Gold digger.
I feel confused. People are trying desperately to make sure no one understands me.
I'm one girl. Against a whole universe and groups of people.
The emotional, psychological, and societal manipulation is obscure.
I keep reading revelations 2:24 to feel better.
It feels like Thyatira. I'm trying to hold fast to the idea that God may rescue me from whatever this is. A trial--make believe--experimentation--prisonment for knowing too much.
He asks we wait patiently for him to come and rescue us.
And many biblical figures had to wait for years and years. Upwards to like 100 if you were Abraham.
So while every day things feel like battle now, I am still trying.
I want to give myself OT and PT...I've done it for others so it can't be hard.
And with the flashbacks and emotional flashbacks and meltdowns and outbursts...I'm going to try treating myself for PTSD too.
Until I get the help I need somehow--I don't know what else to do.
I know others are tired of helping me. When you don't seem to receive pleasantness it's par for the course.
But I'm tired of competing for needs to be met. Can't everyone just work harder to understand bodies and minds and signals--then people would have their needs met and there'd be no need to compete.
I'm tired of fighting for myself. I'm tired of doing it alone.
I'm tired of being with others and doing it lonely.
The world isn't just crumbling due to climate change. Our minds are shifting and crumbling with it.
It makes sense. The weather affects people. Everyone I know is so tired. There's no way we are evolved enough to know God and be in his presence. There's no way we are advanced. Even this phone feels archaic to me--the programs we use feel archaic.
I understand now why capitalism is seen as demonic and evil. The control of drip marketing contents and technology is so slow and pointless.
Our resources are depleting. War is happening still. Communism wouldn't help either. It's the same song with a different tune.
I'll keep living because that's what he wants from people. I want to make God proud. I want people's lives to be easier.
I want people to stop competing and performing and wanting to die drenched in lies.
Maybe that's why it's a sin to lie. It halts evolution not just on others but yourself too. Living a lie halts growth.
It's difficult but Faith seems to be the part that is supposed to ground you in it. Like--I don't know WHY I can't lie in this situation but I have to be honest.
Anyways in these moments I wonder if philosophy and religion is a coping skill or a turning something bad into something good.
I guess I should just keep doing what I need to do and not what others want me to do.
It seems whenever I do what others want I suffer more than before.
I usually value collaboration. But when others Stop valuing it--then it's time for something to be done.
These people are messed up. They have no emotional retention. They have no ability to remember the things they do--Like it doesn't exist to them.
The heat, my hormones shifting, the trauma of seeing her again, and other things seemed to trigger a huge meltdown? Fight or flight? PTSD attack?
No wonder the woman from my dream was so empty--her body and mind have been through war and emotional, psychological, and spiritual survival.
I can only pray that I'm not chemically like a porn addicted person--I don't want to lose the idea that sex to me is love. After everything I mean.
I don't have the time in life to heal. There's so much I have to do and everyone still sees me as a wallet drainer and leech.
I don't trust anyone to help me. I don't trust anyone to love me. I don't trust love because it's not enough to make these other things go away.
I understand why people are calling for a civil war on the rich. And their help? To not be seen as bad people? Their help is "we will make others more like us!"
Natural selection affects them too.
Which is funny. They think they've escaped it ofc. I do think that people are right. Celebrities and other rich people aren't useful anymore.
They don't have much use anymore.
Anyways.
I feel lonely. I feel trauma everywhere. Like I've always been hit by a bus.
It's ironic I think--the "I wouldn't do it without a trained professional" people are so dangerous.
I did better without them...always.
It's hard not to hate life.
I always have to compete for needs and wants and sacrafice them.
For siblings, friends, lovers, parents, students, strangers, buyers, consumers, voices...
I sacrafice for these people to have better all the time. I don't have the energy to do anything else. I don't have anything else to provide but what I can scrounge up and then hand off or step aside.
I just want someone.
Someone who knows and loves me and understands me in full.
I can't let these people take away my voice or my story or my dreams for myself when they're already so blessed.
Only those well off say "you should be grateful"
What you did to survive and achieve versus what I did will never be the same.
So I'll hopefully find a way. To let my future husband be able to comfort me and know me in full after this whole experience. I'll find a way for him to know every page in my story and leaf through and bookmark his favorites.
Who in the universe would take away that from their victims so easily? That they could just have one?
These people can be vampires.
I get tired--I fall asleep--they suck the energy out of me.
They leave all their bad thoughts behind.
The world needs a miracle.
Activities: Food Sleep Screens
Emotions: Hurt Overwhelmed Confused Lonely Stressed Empty Hopeless
Unhelpful Thought: I'll never be well. No one will ever understand me. No one does. I'm alone. I'm always alone and I'll always be alone. People will only ever take from me or use me. People want me to die. My parents want me to die. I end up believing them and wanting it too.
I'll never have a life. I'll never have my own life. I'll never be me. I'll never be free.
Cognitive Distortions: Fortune-telling Self-blaming
Challenge: I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry that you've been through so much trauma in such little time. I'm so sorry you have to fight to comfort yourself and your fight response has increased so astronomically.
It must be scary to have to use it. It must be scary to never know when the pain will stop or when they will cause your attacks to start.
I don't know much about PTSD but considering the flashbacks and how even in moments for you they violate every piece of you--it only makes sense that you have resorted to fighting. I'm sorry you're body has to respond so uncomfortably and abnormally.
But try to remember that these are all normal responses to the abnormal. Your body is scared and terrified and it's been 330 days of exhaustion. The fatigue makes sense. The survival instincts makes sense. Your body and brain are working so hard for you so you can keep loving one day when the trauma responses ebb away.
There's no cure that I know of for these ailments. PTSD, depression, SAD, anxieties, potential autism. All these comorbidities must be eating away at you. The fact that they keep triggering you doesn't help either.
I'm sorry they push you. I'm sorry you've been through rape. I'm sorry you can barely pick up the pieces before they hurt you again.
I'm sorry I have to be the one to apologize to you for everything that's happened and still happens. I'm sorry they abuse you as you try to write and don't listen to no or clear boundaries.
The only advice I can think to give so you may have peace in these moments is to stop saving them. Let the bad continue to do bad. Let the Rapists continue to be Rapists. Do not work to absolve them of anything or bring good from their lives.
They're learning how to hurt you in different ways instead. They're recruiting new people late to everything instead.
Teeny tiny Tina, I'm still working so hard for you to be loved. I'm working so hard for you to stay safe. For you and I to stop fighting.
For you and I to stop freezing and being abused and for them to push you your fight responses and fear of your own body.
I'm sorry they tell you it's demons. When it's her. I'm sorry she won't leave you alone. I'm sorry she and others won't have boundaries with you.
I'm sorry they use you to teach her what her Delusions look like in another person because she forgets to be a human in others bodies and can't let her ego go.
I'm sorry they drug you so she can be comforted.
I'm sorry they don't know what you are going through. When I write as if I'm not you I can't imagine this pain.
I hope one day you are safe and rescued. I hope one day you find someone who will save you from her and them and the ones who abuse you.
I know my hopes are meaningless and that under normal circumstances when you are only you--I can always write meaningful advice without resorting to vapid generics.
I hope that one day you can be enough for yourself again.
I hope they don't bleed you dry. Don't kill yourself no matter what they say and do and feed on altruistic notions.
It's a complete mind fuck. The support needs to come from you. When they do it--don't believe them.
May you find peace Tina.
Alternative Thought: You will be saved. You will find help. Normal people know that it's wrong. These stars are illusions.
Normal people can help better. Find a community that can give you a break and accept you. That won't let your mind fall apart.
Don't let their ironic wishes for you give you peace. Don't let it give THEM peace. They don't mean it they just want it to be them.
Do not be like them. Do not live a lie. Address your hatred front on. Address why you hate front on so you may be free from it.
Do not be like them. Keep the bible in mind but please be who you want to be--which is exactly how God created and therefore called you to be.
Your calling is to heal and fight hatred for now.
Your calling is to find safety. May the lord bear you on eagles wings.
You do not have religious psychosis. You need to keep remembering who the fuck you are.
You are too smart for your own good. You are too self sacrificing for your own good. You see the bad in the good for people to address and attack and heal. You are kind when not under duress. You have illness. You need diagnosis. You have had terrible things happen. Surreal and awful. You always find a way to make things right. You always grow and evolve and change. You are you and others will not visibly see it.
Keep your self grounding mindfulness. Mindfulness is not oppression. It's a tool for a single person. Yourself. Not others.
Keep steady. Take a walk. Do something new. Discover something. Don't just stay in your mind doing it all there.
You need stimulation. You may be close to the end of figuring what you need to figure out out.
Then look at these thoughts and see how little and small they are in comparison to who you are and how you faced them. You are always seeking to heal and retain your values. That dualism and unobstructed steadfastness is your namesake.
It's in your birthday, your name, your experiences, your ring, your prayers, your loves, your hates, your stories, and every part of you.
You can never not be you. Except when your free will is in the hands of another.
Keep fighting for peace. Write and draw and explore within your means. Your life may seem so small but the meaning you have, the blessings God gave you to remember, the irreplaceable meaning everywhere is a gift from him.
And with this you never stop creating. Up and down. Up and down. If David in all his emotional complexities is a "man after God's own heart" then allow yourself to fall and thank God for his discipline.
He corrects those he accepts. He shows the wisdom of it to those he loves.
Keep his ever present and obvious love for you in your heart.
And even though you think Jonah is so funny, please allow yourself to give "testimony" one day and ask people to repent and show them God's love. Be unashamed. Be devoted. Be passionate. Don't let others kill your fire.
You know what it's like. You know what thoughts come from these terrible scenarios. You know how badly you want saving.
Others do too.
Show people that God's love IS unconditional. And learn and translate and write.
Translate God's Holy Spirit and intentions and goals to others.
He will bless you. He is pursuing your heart.
Remember how small the flaws are in others in comparison to them. How little it means for them to dislike what you do or help the opposing neighbor.
You are admired. And sometimes admiration turns bad and becomes jealousy.
You are very lonely. And you have learned ways to find yourself in all the versions of loneliness there are.
You are used. You are abused.
And that story lives and cannot be erased no matter how hard they try. Eternity is the sock that fell from their push. It feels so inescapable.
Your healing and self growth is awkward.
But you can still live. And you love others enough to be awkward with them.
Let yourself remember that this means that you love yourself to be awkward with yourself and allow it.
In that way you have already broken one cycle. That people need to see you in good perfect ways in order to have even self love.
You are strong. You are so passionate. And still while moored and mired in guck and hatred you still do everything out of love.
For yourself and others.
Your own body even is reflecting that incredibly. Your brain doesn't WANT to give up. It wants to fight, to survive, to fawn, to freeze.
Your brain and body is fighting for your love. Your self love and your future love and your love for others.
It's natural to feel this exhaustion after it all.
Tell yourself a new fortune too. A new self attribution. Balance it out.
You're going to always have love. It's in all your cells and the things you touch.
When you drop what you like and feel pain--however small--that tiny regret is love.
Your love is worth it. Your drive to be well is always worth it.
We are adapting. Love yourself enough to be awkward with it. It will feel really big and like the world is ending because it's the first time you've felt these ways.
God bless you.

This is a little tangent-y, so I apologize. For context, I (AFAB20) have had questions about my gender identity since I was 14.
I always felt as though I identified more with male characters in TV, movies, book, and other media, and I've always preferred hanging out with my brother's friends and being considered "one of the guys," which I know doesn't automatically make me trans, but I cut my hair off when I was 15 and the difference in how I felt was immediately noticeable.
I never told anyone back then, partly because I hadn't ever personally met anyone who openly identified as trans so the concept was still unfamiliar to me and therefore I was under the impression that maybe I was just a tom-boy as I had frequently been called as a child, and partly because I was still content to exist as a girl. As I mentioned, I was a tom-boy for most of my childhood, so the majority of my clothing lacked any traditionally feminine traits, I didn't yet wear make-up, and the majority of my friends were either equally as tom-boy-ish girls or guys that me and my brother were mutually friends with.
As I got older, however, I did more research into gender identity and was exposed to a larger variety of queer-identifying people, and the discontentment began to grow.
I would start to grow my hair out with the intention of returning to a more feminine appearance, but once my hair reached a certain length I would begin to detest the way it made me look and inevitably I would have it cut short again. The same thing happened with the clothes I wore. My older sister gifted me some of her hand-me-downs, and I tried to enjoy wearing them because they made me look like other teenage girls, but I ultimately hated the way they accentuated the female characteristics of my body. Make-up followed the same pattern.
I tried speaking to a friend about it, but he told me to consider that perhaps I was just frustrated and unsettled by the way women are treated in the world, and it was manifesting in a way that made me believe it would just be easier if I were a guy. I, whether for better or worse, accepted that as being the truth and continued to keep quiet about it.
I continued to attempt to present more femininely, consistently managing to convince myself that I was happy as a girl if it meant getting to live the life I knew was easiest, but without fail I would always revert back to presenting more masculine and without fail it always made me feel the most comfortable in my own skin.
When I was 17, I finally spoke up about it again to some other friends and they each helped me organize my thoughts and try to process what exactly it was that I was feeling. They encouraged me to be open and honest, reassured me that they wouldn't judge me because I was at an age when self-discovery was just as important as it was confusing, and helped me realize that maybe I really was trans.
I continued to present masculine for a while, gave excuses to anyone who asked about it, and just existed. Close friends started using male pronouns for me when we spoke one-on-one or online, and it made me feel so incredibly happy, that I decided to come out a few months later when I was 18.
This lasted a month.
I told my mom in person, and she said, "I believe this is what you think you are right now." She didn't say anything else, and I know I should be thankful that that's all it was, but it still felt like a slap in the face— just a roundabout way of telling me it was a phase that I'd get over.
I was too afraid to tell my dad in person after that, so I made a post online. He never saw it, or at least never acknowledged it. So I sent him the link through text. He responded with, "I didn't want to make a big deal out if it because I didn't think you'd want me to." He then proceeded to never acknowledge it again.
A month after the initial coming out (which I had been so proud of myself for), the constant anxiety that came from wondering what my family was secretly saying about me became too much and I rescinded it all and went back into the closet.
I haven't come out again since, but a few close friends still know about how I feel and continue to support and encourage me in private.
I'm used to being perceived as a woman because that's what I've been my whole life, and I think I've been in the closet for such a long time that I've resigned myself to continue living this way, so I guess my question is does that make me not trans? I can convince myself that being a woman is what makes me happy, but I know deep down that I will always want to be a man. At the same time, I've been told that if I'm not depressed or suicidal about not being able to transition either socially or surgically, that means I'm not actually trans.
Does it hurt not being able to live the way I want? Absolutely. Does it hurt knowing I've been able to educate my parents about trans folk since then, but they still refuse to ever acknowledge my own coming out from a couple years ago? Absolutely. Would I come out and begin the process of transitioning if I could financially support myself on my own and ensure I'd be able to leave if I needed to? Absolutely.
I'm just not sure if actually being able to exist as I want is in the cards for me, I guess.

My apologies in advance if this is long. I was in an abusive relationship/marriage for 23 years. This incident happened when we were still friends. If I had I only known the truth when this had originally happened, I would have been saved from decades of emotional, psychological, verbal, physical, sexual, and physical abuse. (And currently post-separation abuse).
The cast: me, my ex Bub (Beelzebub), my ex-crush B, Bub's gf M, Bub's bf V (It will make sense when you read it.)
TW: Suicide, self-harm, abuse
We met through a mutual friend. We became really close really quickly. He was 17 and I was 19. We would talk for hours about anything and everything. I was raised around domestic abuse, and my family was highly dysfunctional. I suffered severe trauma as a child being raised in this environment with an abusive father and brother. (His namesake). By the time I met Bub, I had been having mental health struggles for many years. To deal with the trauma I still suffered from I would self-harm by cutting frequently. I also had been in a psychiatric hospital twice for suicide attempts. I told Bub about all of this, and he knew that I still did it. He was very supportive and would get really sad when I harmed myself.
Since we were just friends we would talk about our crushes. He had a crush on a girl from high school and I had a crush on one of my ex's B, who was also my high school crush. We only dated for 3 weeks, and we decided we were better as friends then lovers. Though we did have a FWB thing going on when we were both single. He really talked up his crush and I really talked up mine.
Two months into our friendship he got a gf. He told me she was a girl he knew from his home city named M. He claimed her mother would babysit him and his brother. He really talked this girl up. She was into all the same things as him. He said she had beautiful red hair, D breasts, liked the same books, movies and music as him. (Yes, he bragged about these things, as disgusting and corny as it sounds now). I was starting to believe he talked her up to make me jealous, which it honestly did. However, I knew it was petty jealousy and I was very happy for him and expressed that to him.
I don't know whose idea it was for her to start communicating with me, but she started emailing me to get to know his best friend (me). I was totally cool with this and was excited to get to know her. Before I know it, she starts getting really nasty with me for no apparent reason. It really upset me. My natural impulse at the time when I was upset was to cut. It was a maladaptive coping mechanism I had for years, and I did it when I was really upset. I explained this to him, and he said he would talk to her. He showed real concern I was harming myself and he also wanted her to stop.
So, he told me he had talked to her, and she had told him she would stop harassing me for no good reason. I really assumed she was jealous and let her know there was nothing to worry about. We were friends and he had a much longer history with her. She didn't stop. She continued to say the vilest and f'd up things to me, including making crass and insensitive comments about my suicidal ideation and self-harm. Naturally I was really upset and cut myself pretty badly. I still have the scar.
This basically went on until they broke up a month later. He said she was doing heroin, and he was vehemently against drugs. He said that they had a good friend that died of an OD, and he couldn't be with her if she was going to do that. It was over. She never contacted me again.
Not long after that B (my ex-bf) had come back from bootcamp. I spent a good deal of time with him while he was on home for leave for two weeks before he shipped out overseas. We decided in that time that we would no longer be FWB because I was starting to have feelings for Bub. Me and Bub started dating right after that. He ended up telling me that him and M didn't really date, and he had only told me that to make me jealous. AHA! I was correct!
So, I asked to meet her. He was a bit hesitant at first, but he finally agreed. At this point his bf V from his home city was dating her. It was the perfect opportunity to meet her as like a double date. I will say, at that time in my life I could be possessive and jealous. Not proud of it, but I was young and immature. I ended up treating her pretty snidely because of this.
One night we were out with them, and Bub got into a car accident. We ended up having to call his dad for a ride home. When we got to his home, his dad was contemplating letting them sleep there. I whispered in Bub's ear that I was not okay with his ex-gf sleeping at his house. She overheard me tell him this. She pulled me aside and told me they never dated. WHAT? I was furious. Bub made eye contact with me, and by the look on his face, I could tell he knew what she told me. The ride back, to drop them at home in his dad's car, was uncomfortable to say the least.
After he dropped them off, I confronted him. His explanation was I was so pushy to meet her, but he knew how jealous I could be, so he didn't want to actually introduce me to the real M. Ends up V was dating a girl with the same name. I felt so stupid and betrayed. I wanted to end it, but he seemed so remorseful I ended up giving him another chance.
Well, the years go rolling by, and I hear no more about this girl who he was so close with, in the past. Bub was a very charismatic person with a lot of friends. He never stopped speaking to friends permanently and they would come in and out of his life. I found it a little odd that there was no mention of her but didn't think much else of it. I also never really formally met her.
Then Facebook became a thing. He ended up being friends with every person he had ever known. Except her. I would bring it up and he would always have some excuse. We ended up moving in with his brother in 2015. I wasn't really around his brother a lot, so I never got a chance to talk to him at length. I remember at one point I brought her up. I was just so curious at the mystery girl and wanted to see if he was still in touch with her. He told me he didn't know what I was talking about. He said his mother never left them with babysitters and only worked when they were in school.
"What does that mean," I'm thinking. WTF does that mean? I brought it up to Bub and he told me she only babysat a few times so his brother probably forgot. But this didn't sit right with me. He had told me that she would babysit them frequently. He denied ever saying the frequency. What could I do but believe him? It had been almost 15 years by that point. That's a long time to keep a secret like that. Surely, he was telling me the truth. I dropped it for good.
We get married that year. We had a child the next year. We had a stillborn a year after that. All this time until 2022, I started feeling really uneasy about our relationship. I started suspecting that his behavior towards me was abusive.
Sidenote: I didn't include all the abusive behaviors in this post, as it would be a novel if I did. I'm simply recalling the events around the catalyst to my descent into hell.
By the end of 2022 I was broken. I had gotten my first of what would end up being 3 TROs against him. I dismissed the first two. (The second was a dual, as he set up a situation that created the need for me to defend myself. He claimed I wasn't defending myself. That's a story for another day). After the first two, I was still so desperate to salvage my marriage with my eternal hope that he could change. I was just so broken by then I didn't think I deserved any better, and no one else could possibly want a worthless, pitiful broken mess like me.
The summer of 2023, while laying sleepless in bed, the memory of M flashed through my mind. I started remembering details I had long forgotten. Why did I never meet her? Why was she never his friend on Facebook? Why had neither of them reached out to each other? I had met every person he talked about, or he was at least friends with them on Facebook. Why not her? Why did his brother not remember? Why did he say M's mother babysat them all the time? I KNOW he originally said that damn it! Why was her email address, at only 17-years-old, her first and last name? 17-year-olds don't use their names like professionals. They call themselves sparklybutterflies86 for christ's sakes! This was all going through my head.
The next day I confronted Bub. I will paraphrase to the best of my memory:
Me: Was M real?
Bub: I thought this had been settled already.
Me: No. No, it hasn't. You told me your brother just did not remember her and that was the last I spoke of it.
Bub: Deadpanned looking me right in the eye "No. She wasn't real. I thought you knew this by now."
I can't really remember what I said at that point, but it was a lot of "how the fuck could you do that? and other expletives. His excuse was he was an insecure teenager, and he was jealous of B and how much I talked about him. A fucking insecure teenager. Talking up his high school crush didn't make me jealous, so he made up a gf.
He pretended to be a gf, who went on to harass the shit out me. Which caused me to be so distraught that I cut myself. He knew I was harming myself and he kept on doing it. I still bare the fucking scar from that time. He involved a poor innocent girl that I was fucking terrible to. Not to mention the fake story of a friend that Od'd. And his excuse for this deranged, diabolical, INSANE fucking shit was, "I was an insecure teenager." No fucking big deal, right?
23 years. Two kids. One alive and one deceased. 23 years of complete and utter psychological annihilation with this man.
If only I had known.
If you have come this far, thank you so much for reading. I left him for good October of last year, and I have never felt more free.

Throwaway account for anonymity, although this story is pretty popular among my group. I wrote this directly to Charlotte, so I hope you like it!
I wanted to tell the story of my marriage to my now wife and how vastly different our mothers have taken the whole thing. I’m sharing because I find the whole thing absolutely wacky, so sit back and enjoy!
I (34m) and my now wife (30f) have been together for 5 years, and we got engaged back in 2022. We made elaborate wedding plans because I’m very outgoing and extroverted, and she went along with everything because she loves me. We both knew neither of our families would not be involved. While her mother (55f) absolutely hates me because of my skin color, my mother (72f) suffered from Alzheimer’s and dementia. We knew she could never fly in for our wedding, as she could barely leave the house, let alone the state, and my father (77m), as much as he loves me, refused to leave her side for longer than an hour.
Her mother refused to ever meet me and would insult me whenever she possibly could. I really didn’t want her to attend the wedding, so I wasn’t too pleased when my wife wanted her to walk her down the aisle instead of her father (58m), who had a long history of being incredibly flaky for important events. When we created the bridal party, my side had only friends since I’m an only child and she had her brother (26m) as a bridesman. However, he didn’t like wearing suits so he dropped out of the wedding, citing that he MIGHT have work the day of the wedding, which was 6 months away. Her mother called the next day and dropped out, leading to a lot of crying, an argument and a lot of talks to get through the heartache. Her father actually stepped up and asked to walk her down the aisle, and was practically in tears apologizing for not being there for her. My wife agreed and hugged her father so tightly. I was worried but I had to give the man credit...he was trying.
Our priorities changed when I heard that my mother was quickly slipping away, so my wife had the idea of having a private ceremony just for her and my father so she could see me get married. We flew down, and discovered that the cat peed on her only white dress, and my father forgot which day we were getting married. Luckily…thanks to a lot of bleach and phone calls, we were able to get married in front of her, and she had a very good day. She remembered me the whole time, and she absolutely loved my wife. It was probably the most perfect day of my life: I got to solve problems, have my mother remember me and marry my best friend…albeit illegally technically since we didn’t have a marriage license. To this day, we called it our “marriage before God.” My mother passed away 3 weeks after that ceremony. It was pretty devastating.
By the way…we still had our “lavish” wedding to hold, which was still a month away. Her mother and brother wanted NOTHING to do with the wedding, and I was perfectly happy, but I knew she wasn’t. We had a lot of talks leading up to it, and I made sure she always had support, whether it was from me, her bridesmaids, and all of our friends coming together to let her know how much she means to us. Her father was on time and in a suit, so that was already a victory. I later heard that he told her how proud he was of her and how lovely she looked, something he rarely said when she was growing up. He really stepped up to the plate. Our wedding day had just as many calamities as the marriage before God, which includes a very late Bridesmaid, a very cold and windy outdoor ceremony and a very hot and sweaty reception. Oh, and my wife’s mother texting her on the wedding day how disrespectful she and her friends are, and how she’s “guilty” for not being a “good enough daughter.” This really pissed my wife off, and it led to her FINALLY going NC with her. But that text came well after our wedding ended, and it was the most perfect day we’ve ever had. I love my wife so much and what she did for my mother and I will make me do anything to make her happy for the rest of our lives.
Just goes to show not to let negative people ruin your life…even if they gave birth to you.

Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch, Reminiscence: By Their Own Rope to Chapter 7
Welcome back to Tal Verrar, where the artifice is real and the pirates are fake. Let's see if we know the Gentlemen Bastards’ business this week.
Summary
Six months since the last Reminiscence, Locke has locked up the mysterious chairs and is with Jean in Vo Samara. Jean brought rope which was secured around a thick tree trunk. They're practicing getting to the vault. They used harnesses and a safety line to rappel down the cliff.
Someone calls down to them from the top. He'd steal their coats and chop the ropes. He was a highwayman always on the lookout for people to rob. He called them heretics and cut one of Locke’s lines. Jean tried to throw a knife at him, but only the hilt hit. Then the thief fell off the cliff onto Locke’s harness. Jean grabbed the bandit by the hair, and Locke held a knife to his throat.
His name was Trav, and he was unemployed. Jean made it up first and hauled them up. Locke berates the incompetent thief. He left a purse of silver for him. He could be helpful to them later if he remembered their kindness. It had been eighteen months since anyone tried to kill them.
In the present day, they eat breakfast at The Gilded Cloister. They discuss the attack last night and who might want them dead. Merrain is dressed as a waitress and hands them a bill and a note to meet where they first met. They are on their guard all the way there. They enter an abandoned shop where four men in gray cloaks and hats wait for them. The four men are decoys. Jean and Locke don their own cloaks and hats and get in a carriage.
Merrain is already in their carriage. They will head to the docks. They hoist themselves into a boat filled with rowers. Merrain is the coxswain. They enter the Sword Marina and the stone walls of the bay. A man meets them there and says it's a fool's mission. He's Caldris the ship's master. He leads them to a dinghy in a “pissing-pond” for practice. Stragos had tricked him with poisoned wine, too, so he “volunteered” his services.
Every ship must have a woman officer and a cat for luck. They have a kitten but don't need the woman yet. Caldris cut their palms with a knife and put a slice of bread over it as part of a ritual to the deity Iono Stormbringer. They practice rowing for hours. He bet them that they would capsize, and he won.
Locke is exhausted, but he has to see Requin and give him the chairs and tell him of the voyage. Merrain almost didn't let him go. After two hours, he and the chairs go to see Requin. He waits at the service entrance and pays a servant to get him Selendri. She used to be an Eye of the Archon before her injury.
Requin loves the chairs. Locke says he won them in a card game. He tells Requin that he'll be away for a while to find a lockpicker named “Calo Callas.” Requin makes him promise to tell him of any more plans right away.
They learn how to use a Verrari/Camorri quadrant (sextant) among other navigational instruments, books, and charts. Stragos and Merrain pay a visit to fit his uniform. He must look the part of a Captain at least for a day.
The ship The Red Messenger is in the harbor one day. It was seized from a man who tried to smuggle in stiletto wasps. The enormity of his task hit Locke as he boarded for the first time. Two weeks of training had prepared him to climb the ropes to the mast and sails. Caldris was feeling his age as they climbed down. Luckily the captain and the master stay on deck.
Jean found Locke in a sailor’s bar trying to get drunk and forget anything nautical for a night. (Wrong place for it.) Six watchmen entered and caused tension. The bar patrons were hostile, so one of the watchmen left some money for a round on him and all left. Locke and Jean give their free dark ale to a dockworker woman. The woman was choking and gagging. One the bar workers had put some poison (and not salt) in the drinks!
A ship leech used Locke’s stiletto to perform a tracheotomy on her so she could breathe. It was too late, though. The barkeeper accused the doctor of killing her. The other sailors demand he apologize. Then he drank some ale to prove it wasn't deadly. Jean asked where the second assistant was. Authorities would be called, so Jean and Locke made their exit. The free ale was a cover, and the watchmen were used by someone trying to kill them. The Priori did it.
Jean catches a man in the alleyway. He's an Eye, but who can be sure anymore? They want him to send a message to Merrain that they need a place to stay and protection.
They check out of the inn, and Locke sends a note to Requin. Caldris is even harder on them in his training. All three devise hand signals for when they can't speak among the crew. Caldris and Merrain are impressed by Locke's acting prowess.
Later on, Locke and Jean knock out a guard with a hood full of a sedative. A tower is their destination. Stragos had brought one of his own ships for them to do a demonstration. They sail to Windward Rock where a prison tower stands. That's where Stragos locked up the other Captain for stealing and treachery. He says that this Captain is Locke.
In the tower, Locke hands his papers to a woman who shows them to the lieutenant behind a desk. His pseudonym is Orrin Ravelle. He and Jean are there to see the prisoners. They both attack the guards. A poison called witfrost will put them asleep for the night.
Stragos tells Locke about Highpoint Citadel Gaol and Windward Rock. He has arranged for Ravelle to have a paper trail. He will find his crew in Windward Rock. The prisoners were in one large cell. Locke tells them that he chose them to be his crew. (Stragos chose 44 and made their lives miserable so they would want to leave and be on his crew. Four were women and got too sick, or so he said.)
Locke promises them equal shares of any plunder and freedom from the hell cell. They clamber to join.
Caldris had a bad feeling about the voyage if there won't be any women on board and no basket of cats.
Prisoner Jabril is made acting mate. Two younger prisoners row a boat out to a bigger boat. They all board and sail to the Red Messenger.
Merrain had hidden nearby, and after they all left, she snuck into the tower and killed the guards except the two on the top floor.
Locke pretends to knock out the guard on the ship. Duties are assigned. The guard is placed in the smaller boat. Some of the men were on the ship before and were assigned topmen. So starts their voyage. Locke was having fun playing the part of rogue Captain.
They sight sails on day three, but it's too early to be pillaging. Locke orders them to practice archery. Caldris estimates that they'll make it to the Ghostwinds in two weeks.
The crew drank and partied, playing knife throwing games. Locke saw bioluminescent ghostly things called flit-wraiths. Caldris had seen unbelievable things out on the sea. Two of the islands’ populations were destroyed: one by fire during a war and one by some kind of monster from the jungle.
The crew notices there are no cats. Locke had forgotten them on shore. (Uh-oh!) He tells them they're shy and hiding. Caldris is tired and gets little sleep. He is pissed off that there's no cats. The crew will mutiny if they find out. They'll have to fight another ship just for the cats. (They better hope it rains cats and dogs.)
A storm is brewing. The crew ready the ship and its supplies. Locke and Jean spend rare time alone in the stern cabin. Caldris feebly knocks at the door, and has a heart attack. He dies just as the storm hits. (Double uh-oh!)
Extras
Marginalia
Parts of a ship
Ship's cats
Ship's cats in hammocks
St Corella’s fire is actually St Elmo's Fire.
Larboard used to mean left.
Navigate back here May 23 for Part 2, Chapters 8-11. Questions are in the comments.

Throwaway account for anonymity, although this story is pretty popular among my group. I wrote this directly to Mark Narrations, so I hope you like it!
I wanted to tell the story of my marriage to my now wife and how vastly different our mothers have taken the whole thing. I’m sharing because I find the whole thing absolutely wacky, so sit back and enjoy!
I (34m) and my now wife (30f) have been together for 5 years, and we got engaged back in 2022. We made elaborate wedding plans because I’m very outgoing and extroverted, and she went along with everything because she loves me. We both knew neither of our families would not be involved. While her mother (55f) absolutely hates me because of my skin color, my mother (72f) suffered from Alzheimer’s and dementia. We knew she could never fly in for our wedding, as she could barely leave the house, let alone the state, and my father (77m), as much as he loves me, refused to leave her side for longer than an hour.
Her mother refused to ever meet me and would insult me whenever she possibly could. I really didn’t want her to attend the wedding, so I wasn’t too pleased when my wife wanted her to walk her down the aisle instead of her father (58m), who had a long history of being incredibly flaky for important events. When we created the bridal party, my side had only friends since I’m an only child and she had her brother (26m) as a bridesman. However, he didn’t like wearing suits so he dropped out of the wedding, citing that he MIGHT have work the day of the wedding, which was 6 months away. Her mother called the next day and dropped out, leading to a lot of crying, an argument and a lot of talks to get through the heartache. Her father actually stepped up and asked to walk her down the aisle, and was practically in tears apologizing for not being there for her. My wife agreed and hugged her father so tightly. I was worried but I had to give the man credit...he was trying.
Our priorities changed when I heard that my mother was quickly slipping away, so my wife had the idea of having a private ceremony just for her and my father so she could see me get married. We flew down, and discovered that the cat peed on her only white dress, and my father forgot which day we were getting married. Luckily…thanks to a lot of bleach and phone calls, we were able to get married in front of her, and she had a very good day. She remembered me the whole time, and she absolutely loved my wife. It was probably the most perfect day of my life: I got to solve problems, have my mother remember me and marry my best friend…albeit illegally technically since we didn’t have a marriage license. To this day, we called it our “marriage before God.” My mother passed away 3 weeks after that ceremony. It was pretty devastating.
By the way…we still had our “lavish” wedding to hold, which was still a month away. Her mother and brother wanted NOTHING to do with the wedding, and I was perfectly happy, but I knew she wasn’t. We had a lot of talks leading up to it, and I made sure she always had support, whether it was from me, her bridesmaids, and all of our friends coming together to let her know how much she means to us. Her father was on time and in a suit, so that was already a victory. I later heard that he told her how proud he was of her and how lovely she looked, something he rarely said when she was growing up. He really stepped up to the plate. Our wedding day had just as many calamities as the marriage before God, which includes a very late Bridesmaid, a very cold and windy outdoor ceremony and a very hot and sweaty reception. Oh, and my wife’s mother texting her on the wedding day how disrespectful she and her friends are, and how she’s “guilty” for not being a “good enough daughter.” This really pissed my wife off, and it led to her FINALLY going NC with her. But that text came well after our wedding ended, and it was the most perfect day we’ve ever had. I love my wife so much and what she did for my mother and I will make me do anything to make her happy for the rest of our lives.
Just goes to show not to let negative people ruin your life…even if they gave birth to you.

Hi, I’ve never posted here before ever so if I made a mistake, please let me know mods so I can fix it. Sorry if there’s formatting issues, I’m on mobile, and also sorry this is so long. I tried posting this yesterday and it didn’t work, so I’m hoping it works now. I read this sub wasn’t just for grieving passed loved ones, but also for people we just parted with in life for whatever reason. I was wondering if anyone has gone through something similar to what I’ve experienced so here’s my story:
4 years ago, I lost my best friend. He didn’t die, he ghosted me. He and I were in a way perfect for each other. No romance between us, he was gay, and I’m female. We hung out together often, and texted each other a lot. We could talk about anything and we totally understood each other. When the pandemic hit, he and I could no longer go out, I wanted to have video chat dinners with him, but he refused. We instead just called and texted each other. Eventually, he and I safely met in my home, and had a socially distanced dinner together. It was still the same lovely relationship, even though we hadn’t seen each other in months.
A couple of months after this face to face dinner, he slowly starts changing. He’d go off on me while texting, spelling in all caps, pissed off over stupid things. Our favorite singer had just released an album at the time, and since he and I were both fans, we listened to it then compared notes later in the day. He told me he wasn’t a fan of it and I agreed that I wasn’t either. He immediately started getting mad at me for not liking her music. I didn’t understand why he was yelling at me over something so silly. I didn’t bash her, and I still love her and her other music, I just wasn’t a fan of that particular album. I stopped responding when I asked him why he was starting an argument over something so minor, and he told me he didn’t know. I went to bed with him still blowing up my phone about me being a horrible person for not liking her new music. I didn’t want to engage in such a stupid argument, so I figured in a few days we’ll be okay again, and he was just upset at something else and took it out on me. Wrong he did that, but whatever. I didn’t get an apology once we started talking again days later.
Time passes and he starts again, starting arguments over stupid stuff again. I figured the pandemic was really hurting him, and I had nothing but sympathy for him. It was impacting me too, but I wasn’t taking it out on him. I was always his shoulder to cry on and comforted him, I had no problem with this. After like a couple of months of him starting petty arguments, I get fed up of being his emotional punching bag. I tell him in a kind way that he never apologizes to me, I’m tired of being called names, and being screamed at. He apologizes, but says that the album thing broke the camel’s back and we’re not compatible as friends.
I started crying. My best friend in the whole world, was telling me he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore because of some singer’s album. I tell him I’m crying (we were texting at that time) and that I love him and miss him so much, does he not even love me back? I was freaking out cause I didn’t understand how in the world it had come to this. Our friendship was years old, not months. He and I had been through a lot together, I was always there for him and he was always there for me. We were two peas in a pod. He told me it was complicated, he loved me, and that he’d be going to bed for the night since he had an early morning. I told him that I hoped in the morning he still remembered me.
After these last texts, a week passed with no communication from either me or him, and I figured things between us had cooled down, so I texted him, asking if he was okay. He never answered. I’ve never heard from him at all to this day. I knew he was alive cause I had a friend who worked at the same place he did, different departments. They weren’t and still aren’t friends to this day, she said she’d see him at work and he’d awkwardly wave at her. She’d wave back, but she was always pissed off when she saw him for the pain he caused me. She works somewhere else now, so she no longer runs into him.
I miss him, and have never found someone I connect with as well as I connected with him. I still love him, and I sometimes dream of him. I’m sure he doesn’t think about me at all, and never cried over me. I feel like I’m going to grieve our friendship forever. I truly thought he’d be the uncle to my future children and I’d be the aunt to his future children. I thought I’d be the best woman at his wedding and he’d be the man of honor at mine. I’m probably better off since he turned into a toxic person, but it’s hard not having someone in your life that you still love and they’re alive. I have made new friends since, so it’s not like I’ve never moved on, I just have never had another best friend. I never really understood why he left, I assume the pandemic was messing with his head; It messed with mine, and I’m not saying I was this perfect person who never got mad or anything.
Has anybody gone through something similar? Does the pain ever go away? Did you ever get closure?
I was inspired to write this post after watching ‘Mother of the Bride’ recently. It’s about two exes who haven’t seen each other in years reuniting, because the kids they had in different relationships are getting married to each other. I started wondering if my future kid would meet his future kid or niece/nephew (since he was almost a second parent to them) would meet and we’d see each other again.

The next morning, Himiko was awakened by a delighted scream. She shot up in her bed and saw Tenko dancing around the room.
"Nyeh...Tenko? W-What's going on?" Himiko asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
"La-la-la-la-la-laaaaaa!!" Tenko sang. Then, she stopped at Himiko's bed and gripped Himiko's shoulders like a crazy person. "Himiko! I ate your Snoozydoodles right before bed, like you told me to, and I just had the most amazing dream!!"
"What was it about?" Himiko asked.
"There were no degenerate males in the world! And all the girls made me their queen!" Tenko sighed. "It was perfect utopia! A utopia...for girls! The sky was pastel pink! The clouds were extra puffy and white! The ocean was also pink and glittery, and all the food we ate was pink, like strawberry cake, strawberry ice cream, strawberry cupcakes, and strawberry milk! And girls of every shape, size, and color were everywhere! Not a degenerate male in sight!"
"Nyeh...a dream filled with just girls sounds like a nightmare," Himiko muttered. "Most problems I had with bullying was from catty, popular girls."
"W-What?! There's no way that's true, Himiko!" Tenko cried. "Maybe they were males in disguise!"
"No, I don't think so," Himiko shook her head. "Plus, a world with just girls is going to lead to extinction."
"Not in my dream!" Tenko exclaimed happily. "Girls were born from 'Girl Flowers!'"
"Nyeeeh...girl flowers? " Himiko asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah! You plant a pink seed into the ground, and when it grows, the petals open up and reveal a beautiful baby girl inside!" Tenko gushed. "It was so amazing! Girls, girls, girls everywhere!" Himiko wrinkled her nose.
"I bet it smelled like fish in that world," she muttered.
"Fish?! Why would it smell like-...oh! Hahahaha!" Tenko said. "No, no, Himiko! We didn't have to deal with that because there was need for it! All the girls came from 'Girl Flowers,' remember?"
"Oh...I guess that's true," Himiko replied, shaking her head at the absurdity. Suddenly, there was a knock at their door. Tenko went over to open it. Standing on the other side were Tsumugi, Angie, Maki, Miu, Gonta, Ryoma, and Kaito.
"Hey! What are you all doing here?!" Tenko demanded. "Especially you degenerates!" Ignoring Tenko, they all rushed right in and crowded around Himiko's bed. Himiko nervously pulled her blanket up to her face.
"Nyeh...c-can I help you guys?" she whimpered.
"I had the most wonderful dream because of your cookies, Himiko!" Angie chirped. "Everyone in the whole wide world became a follower of Atua, and was welcomed into his kingdom!"
"I had a dream that I finally went to space!" Kaito exclaimed. "And I became the world's best astronaut for discovering a lot of alien civilizations! Everyone voted for me to be president of Earth!"
"There's no way such a title exists," Maki said, shaking her head.
"Well, maybe not in real life, but that's how it was in my dream!" Kaito said. "But, anyways, what was your dream about, Maki Roll?" Everyone turned to Maki, curious to what kind of dream she had. She blushed.
"I'd...rather not talk about it," she grumbled. "It's too dumb."
"Just tell us already, Judge Moody!" Miu spat impatiently. Maki glared at her, then sighed.
"Fine..." she said. "I had a dream where I wasn't an orphan, and I had real, actual parents who loved me. And I was happy and nice to everyone, and I didn't have to worry about being an assassin and stealing peoples' lives." Everyone stared in stunned silence at her. Maki sighed gloomily. "See? I told you it was dumb."
"Geez, that's not dumb at all," Ryoma said. "Sounds similar to my dream, though, I would agree if you had said that wishing for it to happen would be dumb."
"What do you mean, Ryoma?" asked Tsumugi.
"It's pointless to dream or wish for something that will never come true," Ryoma explained. "Even though my dream was...surprisingly delightful, it also felt like a punch in the gut. Hmph...I don't know whether to call that dream a blessing, or a curse."
"What was your dream about?" Kaito asked.
"Well, I'll tell you, but it is depressing," Ryoma warned. "My girlfriend hadn't been killed, and I was back home with her and my cat. And I didn't even play tennis, I wasn't even an Ultimate student. I was a regular guy."
"That doesn't sound depressing at all!" Kaito said.
"But, the fact that it'll never come true is what makes it depressing," Ryoma said. "That's why I say, dreams like that are pointless. It's better to forget about the past and move on with your life"
"Bullshit!" Kaito exclaimed. "C'mon, man, stop whining about how depressing your life is! You say that wishing for the impossible is dumb and it was all in the past, or whatever, so why the hell are you still depressed? If you truly believed that you should move on, you should stop worryin' about the past and look to the future with bright hopes! That goes for you, too, Maki!"
"What? Why me?" Maki asked.
"It's true that you can't change the past, and maybe wishing for it to change is dumb," Kaito explained. "But, if you're still depressed about what happened in the past, it means you can't let go of what happened! You're not moving on! Moving on is accepting what happened, and doing whatever you can to make your life better! Instead of wishing to undo the past, wish for a brighter future! That goes for all of you!" The room fell silent as they stared at Kaito.
"So, anyway, my dream was about me actually becoming the characters that I cosplay!" Tsumugi said, breaking the silence.
"Hey! Don't just ignore my inspirational speech!" Kaito exclaimed angrily.
"It really wasn't all that inspiring," Tsumugi said, haughtily waving him off.
"Seriously! Nobody asked for your opinion, Mahatma Ghandeez Nuts!" Miu said to Kaito.
"W-What?! " Kaito exclaimed.
"Ha! In my dream, I was the world's best inventor!" Miu said grandly. "With my inventions, I was able to rid the world of starvation, war, violence, famine, and all that other bad shit! And everyone loved me! All the guys on the planet wanted to bang me, and my boobs grew a size bigger!"
"Um...can you not share your dreams?" Tsumugi said. "I feel like every time you speak, I want to do unspeakably horrible things to you."
"Shut the hell up, you four-eyed, lamebrain otaku! " Miu spat. "You're just jealous because you have two deflated balloons for chest!"
"Um...can Gonta share dream, now?" Gonta asked.
"Yes, Gonta, go ahead," Tsumugi replied, eager to not have to listen to Miu anymore.
"Gonta was king of bugs!" Gonta replied. "Everyone in world loved bugs, and loved King Gonta!"
"Tuh...that dream sounds stupid as shit!" Miu scoffed.
"Oh! G-Gonta sorry..." Gonta apologized with a hurt expression.
"You don't have to apologize to her, Gonta," Tsumugi said, glaring at Miu.
"You want someone to apologize to, apologize to all of us for wastin' our time!" Miu spat to Gonta.
"Hey! Cut it out, Miu! Stop yellin' at him!" Kaito yelled.
"Don't tell me what to do, Luke Skyfucker!" Miu shouted back.
"Stop callin' me names!" Kaito yelled back.
"H-Hey! Why everyone fighting?" Gonta asked. "Gonta not mean to start fight!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to start a fight!" Tenko growled, glaring at Gonta.
"If you guys don't stop fighting, Atua will unleash his holy wrath upon you all," Angie warned with a creepy grin.
"Nobody asked you, you kooky cult bitch!" Miu said, swatting at Angie. "All y'all are just jealous because my dream was better that yours!"
"Excuse me?!" Tsumugi cried.
"Yeah! Obviously mine was the best one!" Kaito exclaimed.
"You're plainly wrong! Mine was the best one!" Tsumugi said.
"No, it was mine!" Tenko shouted.
"Nuh-uuuhhhh...it was mi-iiiine," Angie said cheerfully.
"Um...Gonta thinks Gonta's was pretty good," Gonta said diplomatically.
"Sheesh...I can't believe everyone is getting so worked up over this," Ryoma said.
"Seriously. It's stupid to be fighting over something like this," Maki agreed.
"Well, I don't think it's stupid at all!" Tsumugi said.
"Yeah! In fact, I want another dream!" Miu said. Everyone turned to Himiko, who had been staring at them in horrified silence. "You better whip us up some more cookies, ya little midget, or else!"
"Well, um...you'll have to wait next weekend," Himiko replied in a small voice.
"I ain't waitin' that long!" Miu spat. "So, chop, chop! Get to makin' those damn cookies right now!"
"Nyeh, but...what about school?" Himiko asked.
"Himiko's right, we need to get ready for school," Maki said. But...I think I'd also like more of the cookies." Everyone turned to her in surprise.
"Wait...really, Maki?" Tsumugi asked.
"It was...a really good-tasting cookie...that's all," Maki mumbled, fiddling with one of her pigtails.
"Or is it because you liked your dream?" Angie teased. Maki frowned at her.
"Shut up," she said.
"I...agree with Maki," Ryoma said. "I want to see if I would have a different dream. One that's more...sensible."
"A dream that's...sensible? " Tsumugi repeated.
"Yeah...one that keeps me away from my past," Ryoma explained. "Do you think you can do that for me, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said. She knew exactly how to do just that.
Part Twelve
"What was all that ruckus about earlier, Monkey Buns?" Kokichi asked as he and Himiko walked together to school.
"Nyeh...just as I was hoping, my Snoozydoodles gave everyone dreams," Himiko replied. "But, when everyone that I gave them to was talking about their dreams, things got a little out of hand."
"Was that the effect of the magic?" Kokichi asked.
"Well, no...that was because Miu was being her usual, annoying self, and then Tsumugi said something, then Miu snapped back at her, then everything sorta erupted into chaos," Himiko explained.
"Didn't you say a while ago that the dream powder can be addictive?" Kokichi asked. Himiko sighed.
"Yeah...even small doses of the dream powder might cause someone to be addicted," she said. "But, it works really well, and that's why I wanted to put it in my cookies."
"Hmm...I hope you know what you're doing, Himiko," Kokichi said.
"Well...I have another idea where the dream powder might be not as addictive...but the effects will be just as good?" Himiko said with a bit of uncertainty. Then, she blushed. "I...used this method to dream about you before we started dating." Kokichi raised his eyebrows at her.
"Really?!" he exclaimed, grinning.
"Yeah...I had to steal your hair while you were asleep to do it, though," Himiko said quietly.
"Yeah, that's not creepy at all," Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around Himiko's waist, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. A mischievous grin crossed his lips. "I wanna know what this other method is."
***
Friday night had arrived. Kokichi was with Himiko in her secret magic room. She was flipping through the spellbook titled, "Inside the Magical Mind." Himiko showed Kokichi the chapter "Build the Perfect Dream," specifically, the romance section.
"Nyeh...these are potions I used to have dreams about you," she explained to him, and pointed to the different dreams. "This is the 'sweet love dream' potion, the 'spicy love dream' potion, and the 'hot and steamy love dream' potion." Kokichi read the description of each dream, his impish grin growing larger across his face as he read.
"So, you drank all of those potions?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Well, one night, I drank the first one, then the next night, I drank the second," Himiko said. "I secretly gave the last one to Miu, because I was too scared to drink it myself."
"Ugh! You gave it to Miu?! " Kokichi exclaimed in disgust.

"Well...I-I'd feel dirty having the last dream!" Himiko stammered.
"Well, then, why'd you make that potion in the first place?" Kokichi asked.
"Because I was curious!" Himiko said. "But, then my curiosity was replaced by fear and feeling dirty, so I gave it to Miu. It's a good thing I did, too, because..."
"Cuz, why...?" Kokichi asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because she was doing very...dirty things with you," Himiko replied. "Yeah...we were having our monthly slumber party, and in the middle of it all, Miu was dreaming and...nyeh...screaming."
"AAAUUUUGGHHHH!!! GROSS!!" Kokichi exclaimed, covering his ears. "I don't wanna do it with her!! "
"Well, she did say that you said that to her in her dream," Himiko said. "But, you only did it to get her to shut up because she kept begging you."
"Ew, I don't care," Kokichi muttered. "There's no excuse to condone bestiality." Himiko sighed and gave Kokichi a playful swat. Kokichi laughed, then eyed her flirtatiously. "Besides, my body only belongs to you...Himiko." Himiko blushed and lowered her head. Every time he said her name like that, it got her heart pumping like crazy. "My body...is your body." Kokichi lifted her chin to turn her head to him. "Mi cuerpo...es su cuerpo, y mi corazón...es su corazón."
"Ohhhh...Kokichiiii...!" Himiko gurgled with delight, biting her lip. She didn't know Spanish, but he made it sound so good. Kokichi leaned in to give her a passionate kiss.
"Okay, that's enough!" he said, stopping the kiss abruptly.
"W-What?! Wait! No! Moooore...!" Himiko pouted, tugging on Kokichi's sleeve. "I want mooore."
"Nuh-uh, Monkey Buns. Tomorrow is another cookie sale, so we can't get distracted right now. We gotta make these cookies like Hiro...baked! " Kokichi said.
"O-kaaaayyy..." Himiko pouted.
"M'kay, so how are gonna do this, HimiCocoa Bean?" Kokichi asked.
"Well...what genre of potion should I make?" Himiko asked. "There's comedy, action-adventure, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, aaannnd...lots of other stuff."
"Comedy!" Kokichi said. "Everyone needs a good laugh!"
"Nyeh...okay," Himiko said, then turned to the comedy section of the chapter.
"So, you'll just pour whatever potion you make into the cookie batter, right? And mix it up?" Kokichi asked.
"Yup, that's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aaaalrighty, then! Welp, do your thang, babe!" Kokichi said, kissing Himiko's cheek. Himiko giggled and read the comedy section:
~COMEDY:~
Laughter is the best medicine, as they say! So, why not have it in your dreams? After all, there's nothing cuter than someone laughing in their sleep! Whether you're in the mood for some gut-busting, slap-happy humor, wild, crazy humor, or even just simple, laughable jokes, every hilarious dream is welcome in clown town!
Slapstick comedy dream: A dream where tripping, punching, bashing, slapping, falling, and everything in between is considered more funny than horrifying! If you fancy a dream like that, give Slapstick comedy dream a whirl!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of pepper for an extra kick, 1 tsp of cinnamon for an extra bite, 1 tsp of dragon spice for an extra punch, 3 petals of the Laffodil flower, and a 3/4 cup of sunlight for some lighthearted fun. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Fun-loving comedy dream: You can't always watch comedy, you have to experience it, too! If you feel like going on a funny, fun-filled adventure full of laughter, then the fun-loving comedy dream is just what you're looking for!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 3/4 cup of elven sparkles for whimsy, 1 cup of pink polka dot pond water, 1 tsp of sugar, 5 petals of the Laffodil flower, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
Joker dream: Want a dream with less gut busting, and more on the relaxed side? Then, a Joker dream is prefect the perfect comfort comedy dream for you!
Boil water in small cauldron. Once water is boiled, add 1/2 cup of dream powder, 1 tsp of funny honey, 1 petal of the Laffodil flower, a pinch of jesterly ginseng powder, and 3/4 cup of sunlight. Mix contents until water becomes a different color. Pour contents into a potion bottle. Add sleep powder before consuming. Drink and enjoy!
"Nyeh...which one should I pick?" Himiko asked. Kokichi scanned the page.
"Hmm...why not all of them?" he suggested. "You can make three batches of cookies, and pour the different potions into each one! Actually, it's way more interesting that way, since people will get to randomly choose their comedy dream cookies!"
"I guess you're right," Himiko said. She got to work, whipping up all three potions. "Nyeh...all done!"
"Do you wanna go to D.I.C.E. headquarters and bake them there again?" Kokichi asked.
"Yeah, but...let's take the short way," Himiko said. "I'm already tired from making these potions." Before Kokichi could ask what she meant, Himiko snapped her fingers, and they magically appeared at the abandoned insane asylum serving as D.I.C.E. headquarters.

Frasier is on a date with a carnival barker named Lola. As they enjoy their meal, Lola asks Frasier about his fancy interests and hobbies.
LOLA: (curious) So Frasier, how did a guy like you get into all this fancy stuff? Opera, fine wine, expensive suits...
FRASIER: (hesitant) Well, it's a bit of a long story.
LOLA: (encouraging) I've got all night.
FRASIER: (taking a deep breath) When I was a child, I used to break into garages and steal golf clubs to sell in the ghetto.
LOLA: (surprised) What? Frasier, I never took you for the criminal type.
FRASIER: (sheepish) Yes, well, it wasn't my proudest moment. But you see, nobody in the ghetto played golf. So in order to drive interest in the sport and move my stolen merchandise, I created a ghetto golf club.
LOLA: (amused) A ghetto golf club? I've never heard of such a thing.
FRASIER: (smiling) Yes, it was quite the success. And in the process of learning about the game, I started learning more about rich people and what they spend their money on. I became fascinated with the opulent lifestyles of the upper class and set out to cultivate my own taste for the finer things in life.
LOLA: (impressed) Well, I'll be damned. Frasier Crane, you are full of surprises.
FRASIER: (raising his glass) Yes, well, we all have our pasts. The important thing is what we do with them. (pauses, then lifts up his shirt to reveal a tattoo of a fierce tiger swinging a golf club) And I'll never forget where I came from.
LOLA: (eyes widening) Wow, Frasier. That's one hell of a tattoo.
FRASIER: (chuckling) Yes, it's a reminder of my street roots and my love of golf. Speaking of which, did I ever tell you about the first time I killed a man? It was on the fairway, you know. He underestimated my drive and paid the ultimate price.
LOLA: (stunned) Frasier, you can't just casually drop something like that into conversation.
FRASIER: (realizing his mistake) Oh, I apologize. I didn't mean to shock you. It was a long time ago and I've since turned my life around.
The two continue their date, with Frasier feeling grateful for the opportunity to share his unexpected past with someone new, but also realizing that some things are better left unsaid.

 It’s been 3 years since this happened but i still feel guilty about it, and i wanted to get some unbiased opinions on this to see if i’m wrong for what i did. When i (24F) was turning 21, i was doing pretty poorly financially. I was in a relationship where my then-boyfriend (27M) was regularly irresponsible with his money. We lived together, and for several months i had to cover large portions of his half of rent. I was already not making much money at the time, so covering his expenses while also trying to keep myself afloat was extremely difficult, and there were several points where i had less than $50 to my name and had to go to sleep hungry. A few weeks before my birthday, my mother (62F) asked me what i wanted for my birthday. She had already known about my financial struggles, so i swallowed my pride and asked her for a little money to help me out with my bills. I didn’t put a specific number on it. I just asked for anything to help me, could’ve been 20 bucks and i would’ve been grateful for the help. I know it’s crass to ask someone for money as a gift but i was desperate and she knew it. Despite knowing that i needed financial help, she insisted on getting me a “real gift” because i should have something meaningful and special for a landmark birthday. Whatever, that’s fine and i understand feeling a need to give me something material. Half jokingly, i asked her for a bottle of tequila to help me celebrate my 21st instead. I suppose she didn’t think that was a good enough gift either, because when my birthday came and i opened it, it was a pair of diamond earrings. Nothing crazy, just some simple studs. I thanked her profusely and acted super excited because i knew that was the reaction she was hoping for, but deep down i felt kinda upset that she’d spent so much money on jewelry for me when i was just struggling to afford groceries. I want to make it clear that i was (and still am) extremely grateful for that gift, because the earrings still cost a lot of money and i know she really thought i’d be over the moon about them. It just wasn’t what i really needed at the time. Fast forwarding to a few weeks after my birthday, it was now time to pay rent for the month. After all my bills, i still had enough money to pay my share of the rent and have a couple hundred left over for groceries or whatever else i needed. But of course, my boyfriend came to me again saying he didn’t have the money to pay his part. So doing what i had to do, i decided once again to cover the leftover amount that he couldn’t. Once rent was paid, i had all of $6 in my account. I shit you not. This was a huge issue for me, especially because i had never had my accounts go into the single digits before and i also needed to get groceries because our fridge was almost completely empty. Being that i was essentially the sole provider for my ex and myself, i decided i needed to do whatever i could to make ends meet. I’m not proud of it, but times were tough. I took the earrings she bought me to a nearby pawn shop. i hadn’t even gotten a chance to wear them but honestly, i didn’t even want to. To me, they symbolized excess in a time of poverty. The man at the counter bought them off of me for only $80 but at the time, that was gold to me. For context, my mother left the tag on the earrings when i opened them, and they were on clearance for $300 so i wasn’t expecting much more money than that. The man who sold them to me texted me almost immediately after i left the shop. I assume he got my number from the form i had to fill out before selling that included my contact info. He told me he’d throw in an extra 50 if i went over to his house sometime. I declined, blocked him, and called the store the next day to complain to his boss that he was trying to solicit some kind of sexual favor from me and using the form i filled out to creep on me. Not really relevant to the story but i thought i’d share that lovely experience. That $80 ended up helping me through the week until i got my paycheck again, and i signed my ex up to be an UberEats driver so the motherfucker could cover his own ass next month. After that i started making a bit more money so i wasn’t constantly so stressed about paying my bills and running myself ragged. The earrings were mostly at the back of my mind until my mom asked me about them one day. I saw my mom at least twice a week, and after maybe a month or so, she asked why i never wore the earrings. I guess every time we hung out she was looking to see if i’d had them on. Not having the balls to tell her i pawned them, i told her i was afraid of wearing them somewhere and then losing them. She tried arguing with me a bit about how they wouldn’t fall off that easily, but i’m already an ~anxious~ person so i basically made it seem like i was just super anxious about them falling off somewhere and she dropped the bickering. Ever since then, every couple months, she brings up the earrings and asks again why i just don’t wear them. I don’t see her that often now, but she still notices. I always have varying excuses for why i don’t have them on. I just feel like i cannot be honest with her about selling them, because she would lose her mind and probably end up screaming at me over it. That’s not an exaggeration either, she’s extremely attached to material things and things that glitter and this would come as a huge slight to her. I just honestly needed the money more, and if she’d really wanted to give me something special that meant a lot to me, she would’ve just helped me as i’d originally asked. Unfortunately i know that even if i explained that to her, she wouldn’t understand just how dire my financial situation was at the time. Or she’d just insist that i could’ve somehow made ends meet. I’ve told a few friends about this as well as my current boyfriend, and they all say i’m NTA and i did what i needed to do. When i told my cousins up north, they both told me i should’ve just picked up more hours at work for extra cash and that i was wrong for selling them. Regardless of the verdict, I feel so guilty for it and for lying to my mom too. I just know how she reacts to most things and it’s never with an open mind. So, AITA for pawning earrings that were gifted to me by my mother? 

(also wanted to apologize in advance if the formatting looks awful, im on mobile)