This is going to be long, sorry in advance.
University has been difficult to say the least. I dropped out of my first school due to my mental health basically being nonexistent. I moved in with some relatives and graduated with my associates from community college. I am now finally about to graduate from undergrad soon.
My parents and I have had a very rocky relationship for most of my life. They were extremely controlling and put a suffocating amount of pressure on me about grades. Things like how I was destined to work in fast-food for the rest of my life if I got anything but As, pretty much starting from the time the ABCDF system was introduced in school when I was 9. It got to the point where I went NC with them for while at my first university after they violated FERPA by posing as me to access my transcripts knowing that I absolutely did not consent to them viewing my grades.
One of my parents had started a post-grad program when I graduated high school, and graduated the week before I graduated community college. Something to know about our graduations: my parent’s graduation was a multi-day affair with university commencement, department graduation, and other events. My graduation was one day and one ceremony for the entire school.
My relative I was living with at the time hired a pro photographer to take my graduation pics on their property following the ceremony. My parent had some pro photography done through their university during their festivities, but hadn’t hired a photographer solely for them during that time. Students only had two pro photos taken by the school at mine, one before entering the building and one when we walked.
What was supposed to be my photo session basically turned into grad photos for me, grad photos for my parent (they brought all of their regalia up with them to my graduation), and family portraits without the grad gear because “we hadn’t had updated ones in years.” I haven’t been given full access to the pictures since they were taken a few years ago, and the ones of I have seen have all either been the family portraits or photos of both me and my parent in our grad gear. I haven’t really seen any of the ones of just me, my partner and I, or me and the relatives who actually supported me mentally and financially through community college.
Basically, I kinda feel like my graduation was hijacked a bit. My parent had basically a whole week of events and potential photo opportunities, and the one day I had (not to mention it was my first graduation since my HS diploma) was basically overtaken by family portraits and group pics. If I try and bring up these feelings, I’m always met with a) I’m overreacting and an attention hog, b) it’s economical to have combined the sessions, and c) we haven’t had family portraits done in years so what better time to do it than my graduation? It doesn’t help my feelings either that my “extremely proud of my graduation” parents basically called both my degree and my intended transfer program useless to my face within two months.
I’m supposed to graduate from undergrad soon and I can’t help but feel anxious about them potentially coming for the event after last time, and I guess it has me wondering if I truly overreacted or if my anxiety and our tense relationship is just getting the better of me?

I have been struggling a lot with my mental health lately, and can’t shake the feeling that I may have been through something traumatic in my childhood which is causing current problematic behaviour. I need an outsider to weigh in here. This is going to be long.
(For context I’m a trans guy, AFAB)
I am an extremely hypersexual person who has for a number of years now sought increasingly risky sexual encounters with strangers, especially older and violent men. It is starting to take a huge toll on my mental health as I try to figure out what might be causing this.
For context, my parents divorced when I was 4 and I have had semi-contact with my bio dad for a number of years now. Not the best relationship but nothing too damaging. I thought at first this relationship was causing a lot of abandonment complex which causes me to seek out sexual validation. I then started examining my relationship with my mom and step-dad and realised there may be something else here. I have always felt slightly uncomfortable around them without really knowing why.
My mom does not really have a sense of boundaries, physical or emotional. She has on multiple occasions given unsolicited “advice” about my appearance and how to appear more good looking and sexually attractive. She has also on a few occasions demanded to touch my chest when I’ve explicitly told her no. Most times I’ve just had to give in and let her do it. Her reasoning has always been that she “wants to check how big they are” (which obviously as a trans guy has always made me super uncomfortable). She thinks it’s fine because she’s my mom and “has seen it all before”.
My step-dad, whom my mom married when I was 6, has always had very raunchy sense of humour and will often make sexual jokes around me and my siblings. He has made several incest jokes throughout my life, where he insists he would never do such a thing, despite constantly bringing it up (most recent example was around Christmas when he made a joke about step-dads molesting their step-daughters). I distinctly remember an incident when I was around 10 where I accidentally grabbed his private parts while in a swimming pool, and he kept bringing it up for the rest of the day, as if to shame me.
Before I transitioned he would always make remarks like “if I were younger I would date you” and “if I could choose between you and your sister I’d choose you”, and he was very very opposed to my transition, almost defensively so. I have never reciprocated these “jokes” like my sister has, and I could always tell it bums him out. He has also “accidentally” showed me pornographic videos before, blaming it on his friends for sending it to him.
Not only that but I have a few distinct memories/dreams from my early childhood that involved sexual situations. The first one I can remember I was around 7, where I had a “dream” that I was sitting on an older man’s lap while he made me grind on him. Another “dream” was age 9-10 where I was looking at myself in the bathroom mirror topless while an older man was fondling me. I had a friend around the same age with whom I would play the “forcing game” (my idea), which involved us lying down pretending to be sexually assaulted by an older man who I would voice. I would also regularly between the ages 7-10 “play out” sexual assault scenes when playing by myself. I know kids might have some idea of sex at that age but it always seemed weird it involved older men and non-consent. I had a brief phase where I was terrified to turn my back to the door when sleeping in case someone snuck in and assaulted me. I was also terrified that the outline of my bum would be visible under the covers whenever anyone was around.
For as long as I’ve been sexually active I remember being drawn to non-consensual pornographic content. Due to my high sex drive I’ve also consumed a lot of porn and it has inevitably let me down the inescapable incest tropes. Sometimes it’s the only thing that can get me off and I feel grossed out and hate myself for it.
I am hesitant to think that my parents ever intended to be incestuous, and nothing physical (other than my mom touching my chest) has ever taken place to my knowledge. I feel weird for even considering that their actions may have caused such shameful behaviour in me. However this has been on my mind for too long and I just needed to get it out. I do suspect I have BPD though and sometimes I feel like I am just imagining things or blowing things out of proportion.
I may delete this shortly but any thoughts or advice is much appreciated thank you.

Hey guys,
I'm brand new to tailwind. My company hired designers that built us figma style guides. I'm not sure exactly if or how I should be editing the tailwind config file for best practices. For example, the designers gave us font sizes / font colors / background colors / font familys / font colors. Two of the font colors are primary, and secondary. tailwind has no text-primary class that I could overwrite, so I would create a new one in the config file. However, wouldnt this then conflict if I had a font size called primary? Wouldn't font-primary then represent both the color and font size?
I just dont really understand how tailwind works when you want to customize stuff like this. Should i even be customizing anything or should I just use whats already defined? Like if the design says dark blue is primary color, should I just use text-darkblue as the tailwind style? (Or whatever darkblue text utility class for figma is).
For another example, there are 4 different background color shades that get progressively darker. I assume I will need to create custom colors in theme in the tailwind config file. How should I be naming these?
I just dont really understand how I'm supposed to build this and what best practices are. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks
EDIT: one other thing - for some elements of the design everything is totally custom and one time use (font size / color / letter spacing). Should I be creating utility classes for this or just not using tailwind and writing raw CSS here? What would tailwind developers generally do here?

I'm new to manifestation and I manifested a sp (no movement there and we were really good until end of March and I started manifesting him after that), to get a job I made second round of interviews for (they hired 4 people and I did not get the job), to pass an exam (did not pass).....I do scripting, letter methods, 369, I've tried meditations. I tried everything and it seems like everything is going wrong. I'm new to manifestation and at this point I'm wondering if everything is going wrong BECAUSE I'm manifesting. I for sure thought I'd at least get the job and I'm disappointed everything in my life has been going badly when I'm trying so hard to keep the feeling of having it all in my manifestations. Any advice? What could I be doing wrong?

Hey y'all! So, I'm trying to figure out if my friend might be developing/have feelings for me, or if this is just how he is when he's close with people. A little background: We are both in a co-ed frat (funny, I know), and he's my big (even more fun), his personality is a 10/10 and he is extremely caring and expresses his emotions well, and we're both on summer break rn.
SITUATION THATS CONFUSING ME:
So, right before my flight I spent the night at his place. We were just watching movies and talking, but then it got super late so he offered for me to stay instead of walk home (very nice, it was like 4 am). This is normal friend stuff imo, but what made it seem kinda romantic to me was that we were laying down, smooshed side by side together watching movies in complete darkness. At times when we were laughing too hard, he would put his arm around me and kinda laugh into my shouldebring me in closer. This was pretty much how the night went on, then he let me stay and we slept on separate sides of the bed. I was wearing thick clothing to sleep, so I didn't necessarily need a blanket, but when I woke up I was completely covered by it and he was laying right next to me.
We just kind of looked at each other, talked, and actually cuddled and talked some more before I had to leave. He does this thing where when you're really close to him and he has something to say, he lowers his voice so it seems like only you can hear. He did this a lottt in the morning. I may have described this in a very romantic tone, but I swear to the best of my ability this is what happened without any rose tinted glasses.
Me, being confused:
Like I said before, his personality is very caring and he's fairly open when talking about things. He's never been in a relationship, and I doubt he's had people stay over, but we've talked about stuff like this before and he said that he wouldn't mind a gf (completely different convo from a while back). I have no idea if the only reason he treated me like that was because it was an obligation as a big, or if he genuinely had some sort of feeling towards me. He isn't the most romantic person, so this experience is really confusing to me. Idk if he intended it to be romantic or if this is just him as a person.
What do y'all think?

I worked in schools for a total of 4 years and taught high school English for 1.5. By the time I started as a full classroom teacher, I knew it wasn't the right fit for me. I moved after my first year, then took a 6-month temporary assignment fulfilling a leave. At the end of my 6 months I was asked to stay on because the teacher I was covering chose not to return. I made the tough decision to leave for my own mental health, and 4 months of unemployment ensued as I actively searched for a new career.
During those 4 months I applied to 123 positions and attended 26 interviews at 17 different companies/organizations. Let me say first that I do not wish this job market on anyone. It was relentless. I have previous experience in the nonprofit sector, a master's degree from an ivy league, a restorative justice certification, and had several direct referrals from friends and colleagues, and it still took me several months of full-time searching to get an offer.
I now work as a lobbyist/coalition coordinator at a mission-driven nonprofit that fights for public education funding and reform. It's hybrid and much more my speed, and I make the same as I did teaching. I get to talk to legislators about how unsupported I was as a new teacher, and I get to connect with parents at under-resourced schools and empower them to create change.
I'm also doing 1099 work as a legal assistant and I'm signed up with a tutoring company -- and juggling 3 jobs feels extremely doable compared to teaching. People mean it when they say that we can do anything after surviving this job.
Anyway, I collected data throughout my interview process and thought it would be helpful to share some of the highlights, especially for people in English/History who aren't sure what kind of jobs to apply for.

• I applied for all sorts of positions, but the most common were in the following fields: Curriculum, Training, Nonprofit Management, Social Work, Travel, Fundraising, Higher Education. I looked for job titles like "Program Manager," "Instructional Designer," "Training and Development Manager," "Impact Manager," "Operations Coordinator," etc.
• I was most likely to get interviews in Social Work (3 interviews after 12 applications), then in Nonprofit Management (6 interviews after 28 applications), then Curriculum/Training (3 interviews after 42 applications). I also got 1 interview in Travel and 1 in Fundraising.
• Of the Nonprofit Management jobs I applied for, I was far more likely to get interviews at places that focused on education, after school programing, or youth in some way.
• I was far more likely to get nonprofit interviews than corporate or university. Based on my conversations in interviews, nonprofit leaders are far more likely to understand the breadth of skills that teachers bring to the table.
• I was DESPERATE for a hybrid job -- 75% of my applications were for hybrid or remote positions. Despite this, almost 50% of the jobs I was asked to interview for were for in-person positions.
• I was far more likely to get interviews from applying on Idealist or on the company site directly than applying through Indeed or LinkedIn. As far as I am concerned, Indeed is a complete black hole of fake job postings. Idealist is definitely the most legit of the job posting websites I used, and I was always more likely to get responses from orgs there, even if it was a rejection.
• I live in a HCOL metro area. I made $68k before leaving teaching. The average salary of the 123 jobs I applied to was $65.6k. The average salary of the 17 positions I interviewed for was $53.6k. If I applied for a job that paid under $49k, I was much more likely to get an interview... which felt insulting with my Master's degree.
• I was never invited to an interview that I didn't write a cover letter for. I was surprised because many of my corporate friends said they are completely unnecessary, but I didn't find that to be the case. I used AI to help me optimize my cover letters to the job descriptions and that seemed to help me get interviews.
• Of all of my applications (not just interviews), I was ghosted 60% of the time. 35% of the hiring managers reached out to deny me, and I withdrew my application from 5% of the jobs after interviewing and realizing it wasn't the right fit.

That was a LOT, but hopefully it is helpful to someone getting started on their journey! There is light at the end of the tunnel. I felt hopeless for so long, but I finally feel mentally healthy and cared for at my new position. If you have any questions or want to know more please AMA!

I got a Blackstone about a month ago. I've been using it like crazy. I followed all directions to the letter as far as seasoning and stuff.
I haven't used it in about a week, as it's been raining every day. I have kept the cover on it securely.
I took the cover off today, and everything except for the food surface is rusted. The sides of the griddle are fully rusted.
What gives? Do I have to store this thing in my house to keep rust off of it?

Stand name: Tatari (by Joel Corelitz)
Stand user: Mary
Strenght: B
Speed: C
Range: E
Durability: B
Precission: D
Potential: C

Appearance:

(The picture is created from the stand ability of a friend of Mary, she doesn't actually wear such clothes)
Unlike other stands Tatari doesn't directly posses a physical form and instead transform the users body to look like a humanoid goat hybrid that even has traits unnatural for humans and goats alike. After transformation Mary's body will be covered in grey fur and gain increased muscle mass, bone strength and black hoves for feet, the most noticable features are her long ears and zickzacked yellow horns on her head.
Tatari acts like a different independent person inside Mary that can communicate throught specific methods with her like letters or messages left behind. Tatari is quite like Mary and posseses similar characteristics and traits as Mary like being naturaly curious and thicc headed, this is likely because of how it was created.

Origin:

Mary was originally two persons which were Airy Baron and Mathew Baron who were siblings, Mathew possesed a goat looking stand (therefor its appearance) with the ability to make temporary holes in objects and Airy with a humanoid stand with the ability to control plants through a virus in its blood. During an incident Mathew was fataly wounded and as a last resort Airy located an Rokakaka Fruit which fused the two into Mary with her Tatari.

Abilities:

The first ability Tatari has is to allow Mary to transform her body into Tatari or just partially transform, this increases Mary's overall strenght and durability being able to survive a car crash relatively unharmed, should Mary also choose to only partially transform her mind will merge with Tatari's with the more dominant depending on how much of Mary's body is transformed. This transformation reverts to normal if Mary or Tatari exhaust themselves to much which will cause too much strain on Mary's body if overused.
The second ability Tatari has gained through the fusion of Mathew and Airy are tears which she can shot on command and contain a virus that make the tears of Tatari burn through anything like acid and form corrosive clouds near them, Tatari can also cover herself in these tears without any issue to protect herself or launch them like a squirtgun through her eyes.
If Mary is dying or is already dead for a few moments Tatari can take over for a whole day as a last resort of some sorts after which Tatari also dies and perishes.

Weaknesses:

Even though Tatari is a stand it's still has a body physical in nature being unable to directly interact with other stands
Overusing the tears may dehydrate the body
Due to Tatari's own personality she might not listen to Mary and follow her own desires and fight in her own style (Tatari is kinda a dork)

Im going to send in my cv and expression of interest form for the direct appointment scheme. Do i need to send a cover letter as well?

Not shared, nor my shade; but something to be weaved; just as the measure of disappointment became it's own solution. But I talked my way through things forbidden, just to find myself blind in bed with those who are dead. Clumsy, but altogether natural of course, because it's consciousness what you refer in the description, yet that's what we don't get a lot about. See your deeds the way you are seen, and then return to a restless place: and the question in-between sheets will be why. Well, I just can't motivate myself to work without hot bitches staring. And that's the truth. Sad but True
— Hearfelt comment for an instagram witch.
Del desprecio a ese descarte, no he visto muchas cosas. Así se pasa una más para las cuentas, y aquí otro más para los versos, por qué aquí no hemos sido vistos. Cuánto más querría uno, que sino lo cuentas ni mucho menos piensas: << lo de este pibe que cosa más horrible>>, haciendo eso lamentable, por qué en decirlo nadie ha mentido. ¡Es horrible! Que cara es entonces la cuenta de lo que le sale a uno vivir sin más complejos; mejor seria cobrarmelo, para así saber que de algo ha valido. Bloqueame.
— Heartfelt comment for a random supermodel-to-be.
The Spirit of Fire
Flames begone, flames in spite: their warmth I felt - so I closed my fist until I could feel the warmth of my blood in my hand. And in dreams Fire came up to me and said: who am I? And I said unto him: you are bound to my bidding, thus your name misery will be. But fire wretched as he was, got closer and asked: and who are you?
And I said unto him that the blood of David ran through my veins, as I was his heir; for the mother of God claim me from death as a son. So Fire tried me, and figured it out.
You are son of woman —said Fire unto me— but as Fire acknowledged the name, I extended my left hand, and took Fire by the neck throwing him into the gound. — You are going to lace yourself to the right hand of the beast, and you'll keep him steady, so I can cleanly take him down. And Fire stayed down, and with his forehead kissing the ground asked unto me —why would the heir of David do so to earthly man?
And I said unto Fire that the beast from the abyss had left no mother for God, so I was to leave none of his body left for his head; as I was going to make it bleed until the end of the end of times.
The Spirit of Earth
Shapeless and without body, but keen within her many numbers, Earth came up to me in dreams, and said: who am I? And posessed in spirit as I was, I said unto her, that God had made her maiden again, and that she shall become the coins that Judas never received, which were to become the due payment of man and women for the body of Christ. Then I extended my right hand, and grabbed Earth by her hair —which descended deep into the abysses of hell— and cut it short so the demons of Lilith would no longer had her gripped by her back.
You are now a woman, and I'm going to rise you from the grounds. You'll lace yourself to the left hand of the beast, and keep it steady so with one shot I can cleanly take him down.
The Spirit of Air
A dream shaped by written words, whispered down for years by the currents of this Montain, and it's requiem witnessed but by a few — the end of dreams. But from where I standed at the peak, I called upon the distant currents that went down, and asked them: who am I?
And Air came unto me as bird, which had thousands of letters for feathers, and in the tongue of dead men answered.
"Somebody who only a few will remember by strange deeds; as the burden on your back, is a past tainted by impossible dreams. You were a lunatic giving new names to folk, and folk never bothered to remember —so your name must be freak, as you died in a forgotten shack some short time ago."
And as Air said these things upon me, I called Misery —as I had dubbed Fire — and told him to get inside my shot. The burden as Air had said, became lesser as i took the shot from my quiver. And I said upon Misery; that he was to set ablaze this arrow, as I was taking down the bird of Britain, and that I would do so, so God would give the deeds of Earth some better names.
The Lord is making a bridge between the empire of strength, and the last empire of men. Now by God's grace, I'm making the tongue of free men, the tongue of Spain. You will be eventually bound to my bidding, and if not me, it will be to the one I'm preceding; for I'm giving you twenty years to attone your wrongdoing. Alas, now because of your wretchedness, my shot on earthly men won't be clean, for his left leg won't stay steady.
Your old name was apathy, now I'm calling you Cisma, which in the tongue of dead men means schism. So now by the will of God lay unto the ground and say the words you've been teached. And as the arrow blazed forward, it's bending motion pierced the veil hiding the secret ladder of men. The bird of Britain catched on Fire, and it's hollering resounded throught the ladders of the mountain until the depths of the abyss. A column of air turned into fire, then violenty erupted from the vowels of the bird, and the wild fire spread as a storm from west to east all throughout the five kingdoms of men away from its own fiery wings, with a gift of misery and a few words to say.
"The name of your woman or the name of your man, will no longer explain their purpose to a man, a woman, or God. Charred words written by thunder will now be the new ladder of men — but until then, darkness upon thee."
The House of Water
I head into the coasts, and the beautiful beaches in-between, to find the stranger who burns images in the skin of men. He is the stranger, and has adopted the body of a monster, and he is one who cannot be understood, so he went on to only go out home in stunts, for the burdens in his heart have become too great to bear. Through terrible pains he has given all he once was for an identity, and as I pick up on his past, i found familiarity in the feelings of his heart. Oh dear friend how we found looking in sadness to ourselves, after doing same but with different means, carrying into our shoulders the loneliness of this world. As you have in-skin the garments of the strange doctrine that I preach — I shall congrate you, for you truly have fought the world entire, for my doctrine is the words of those who shall defeat the world entire.
I may not have your strangeness in-body, but I have it in these words, and in the true feelings of my heart. And I say in admiration that there's no higher form of art, philosophy or religion: than those who perform the highest thing they can give a name about.
Now even within solitude, and at odds with what old dead men call God, I see you and I found strength in you, as I can see you are within me, and in that, you are within everything as it should be - as is meant in everyone who does something that touches the heart of another man. I call this the kingdom of God. Yet blind men and women will wonder how can the kingdom of God possibly be within two outcasts such as you and me.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Upong giving my regards and waiting for response, I found my way into a bench. It was a warm afternoon, and the wind carried the water of the sea. The bird of Britain came about down from the wind of north, and layed on the bench were I was sitting.
The bird asked: why hast thou become this?
And I said back to bird, scorched he was and nearing death, that it was me someone who was supposed to give names, yet for years I couldn't figure out one for myself. Then on went to being given a name, Alas all the wrong ones. Did Adan gave himself a name? - I asked the bird back. And there was no response from bird. Then I continued.
A man has the essence of his soul retained by what he is seen doing. Yet I did things nobody saw, so my soul wasn't with God but with something just as ancient, and nonetheless unknown by men in its true nature — then Satan as the better known devil, came about and pushed me into a hole. It was my own doing. Yet the things I did, I thought were seen. But nonetheless what I did was without contemplation on a posible return. Just as somebody who prints an image on their own skin. It's permanent. This is the essence of a memory in the soul of the man who's seen by others. But in the familiarity of a man who picked every irreversible decision like the Alien, I find myself feeling sympathy, for the man is still not what he has been seen doing, he shall redeem himself by what he decides to turn himself into.
Is this a way of saying that you want to get yourself a tattoo? Get a new look? - the bird mockingly asked.
And I gave the scorched bird no answer.
Then the bird said unto me: what about your career as a prophet, uh? And the things you said about returning with substance? Do you actually think this is substance?
And i considered what the Bird said, then I negated with a movement of my own head. It is not i answered, but i find the memories of me not making sense unbearable. For those mean the memories of a fool, un pendejo, an insane person, or both. And I will always try to amend what I don't do well. But now I wish for only one thing, and it is to be remembered as someone who makes sense, and who out of that sense, made good upon the world. I don't expect anything in return for what I do now, as it is merely an outlet to keep me sane while I finish editing my work. It's clear I'm too incompetent to be a competent influencer. As for once, I don't care about influencing anyone into what I think; but to perform what I think it's important.
Then every proverbial student is free to take classes so as they see fit, and to interpret such classes as their comprehension gives them grasp of what it's said. In such regard, this is what I offer now, while I make the journey to Madrid. And the bird tilted it's head so as to observe me with his left eye, then after a long impasse, it made a loud and painful caw, and finally flew away. Soon after the bird flew, I looked upon the stars in the nascent night, and confessed to them, that it was the memories of who we were, what often stumps us into wrong beliefs of who we should be, maybe even wasting an entire lifetime retained by that which other people remembered us as being. But we are not the owners of our own names, the place we go, and our destiny. That's the biggest lie the western world of hollywood heros tell you, as in truth is collective agreement what determines what we look like doing and thus the meaning we should comfort to, recalling that names are practical mechanisms to remember the purpose of things, their meaning, and how their motion is described in the world.
But making the task of beating that collective belief, akin to the Nietzschean ideal of the camel turning into the lion, so as to transform it's spirit and become something else. But if it's the golden dragon of all the huamn values which judges you insane, will you be prepared to wrestle with the entire culture so as to have your way?
As I layed my eyes upon each star counting up to the number seventeen, I confessed of being scared of those beliefs, as revisiting the past, became a painful deed — and as I prepared to leave, I uttered one wish on the seventeenth point in the sky.
Lord please grant me strength, the way you have given my friend strenght.
2.
The night deepen, while the sea tide sang its own song of breathing. Some time passed, and then on the stranger showed himself approaching at the distance. I waved my hand at him, and after the instant, he found his way into my bench while I welcomed him with an extended fist which he casually bumped - after the short acknowledgement the dark alien looked at my face in between it's cover of dark, and looking at it undiscernable in its true features, with suspicion asked.
— What is it that you want?
I acknowledged him as a friend, then mentioned my brief research, as I had come to know him as man looking for a job, yet nobody would hire for things mundane due to his appearance. I listened closely to the news, and came to understand that this was a man looking for a second chance.Then I saw the intent behind his doing, and two words came to stick to my own thoughts. The first one was <> and the second one was <>. I was admired.
In analytical psychology I figured this man was the ESFP —the personality archetype related to the performer and the entertainer—, possessed in an abnormal way by the spirit by which a person submits to it's contrary nature, seeking to integrate and find fulfillment through the chase of what's perceived absent. If he was the ESFP then doing the flip by following the radial axis of each Jungian function in the stack towards their opposite resulted in the INTJ. The mastermind. The architect. The genius yet awfully complex individual. That was the elusive spirit he was chasing.
But a spirit and a character that at its most pronounced embodiment in a person, would experience life as an eternal foreigner hiding from the light of other men. Such made sense to me, for I myself was the INTJ, and had at spirit the ESFP. Him. So where as this man chased the spiritual fulfillment of being a complex and deep individual, I chased the fulfillment of becoming simpler, so I could demonstrate with action the deepest desires of my heart. One who was born plentiful in means to be liked, becomes complex, mysterious and uncomprehended, meeting one who will be seen trying to make sense becoming simpler. For Carl Jung portrayed the anima and animus of individuals, as the sense of what its absent, yet deeply cherished an valued. So I said these things to the alien, while he silently listened to me.
— All of that sounds like bullshit to me. -Said the alien after some contemplation .— Sorry but the things you say, don't mean anything to me.
And alas for I expected such response, as if one thing was true about this journey, was that explaining the journey in and of itself would become it's grimmest task. I affirmated what he just said with a slight nod of head.
— These things I say and how they relate to each other, in its excercise are similar to doing stecheometric balance with equations in the head, but simpler I'm afraid. - Then I paused, looked back into the sea, and continued. — That's high school chemistry, but I don't expect everybody to pick up on it, nor like it, nor understand it.
— Now i have called you a friend, and where I came from we dub with this title the people we share destiny with. As far as I'm concerned, we are chasing the same thing, which is the hardest posible thing. We both innately understand that we are not home, as we want our spirit to return to us, and that's not what a lot of people ever honestly try to attempt in a lifetime; as such is anyone's call to feel complete.
— And very few people ever reach true individuality, beyond the name they are imposed at birth.
Then I looked into the black alien, and in-between his foreign facial features, I interpreted something familiar. Disturbance. And I continued.
— We have given ourselves hell as we lived chasing something hard, so we can avoid the same hell later on when we are finally back to our own house. This is a christian precept, altought a rundimentary one. Does that makes sense to you?
And after listening such, the black alien calmly looked at the veil in my face in silence. Trying to discern what my face actually looked like, but the night was dark. Then turned his stare back to the reflection of the moon over the waters, giving some thought to what I just said. I opened up my backpack, and drawed two cans of beer from it. Offered one to him, and he silently refused with a gesture of hand. I popped my can and gave it a sip, while I myself stared at the tides coming in and out of the shore.
— If you wan't a tattoo, we can work that out. But this sounds annoyingly familiar, and my interest is not religious. Are you religious?
I nodded in affirmation, and complemented saying. — But my doctrine is something nobody has heard nor seen. For its aim, is doing as Christ said, in perfect means. Yet its true that the teaching fits you, as it's the teaching of the future man; and there's nothing in common between the current man and the future man, as they may very well be different species. This is the precept of evolution.
The alien seemed surprised.
— These two men don't know each other, for the current man doesn't know where the future man comes from, for he himself doesn't know where he is going. Yet in deep realization of your own artistic concept, I think you might want new ideas to meet with your appearance. So tell me, are you curious about what truly happens to a man after he dies? Do you want to learn how to read someone's mind? Do you want to blast with words of fire the hearts of an amazed crowd?
But the black alien broke his calm contemplation of what I was saying, and slighty disturbed, aggressively rebuked after hearing such.
— But you mentioned 'Christ', so you must be christian. How can a christian even say anything interesting in this current time? Last time I asked, their sayings were dreaded by restriction - so why would anyone condemn themselves to a life of bore? Are you a christian?
And I nodded after the question, in silence. Admittedly, for I knew what the problem was with being what I was, and my new companion was bang on identifying it. Made a pause, then raised my sight to where it met with the sky and the stars in it, and I said back to him.
— I am, but not one of a type you have ever seen, for the Christ that comes, is a Christ of art.
2.
The riptide sang, in its secret dialect of earth and sea. I looked upon the coast, turned an eye blind, and saw the ocean as the scorpio, and the land as the taurus; as it was the struggle between two lovers, never meant to consume each other. Ideal love then - yet not to confuse with this partnership as it was whimsilcally tied by the means in which i arranged my current conversation; for my lady somewhere waited for me. Then i allowed my eyes to rest still.
The alien looked upon me, undiscernable in my intentions, and again figured for himself that my interest towards him wasn’t clear. In suspicion, and after the moment he collected his thoughts asked “In your weird words you dubbed me performer, so what is it exactly that you wan’t from me. To me it seems like you are gathering people for some form of religious clown show. When you forced this meeting upon me, was this a proposal you thought i would find amusement in?”. And after the statement my own stare wandered in my conversation partner. While as he had his say, i returned to my can of beer, and finished it with a long gulp. Tempered in an unwillingness to fall to my new found friend irritation, i said within my own thoughts: “The alien looks easy going, but he is barbed in wit”.
Then i opened the can of beer that the stranger rejected; the loud pop resounded in the relative silence, interrupting for a moment the steady chorus of the sea. Gave it a long sip, and said.
– Theres no proposal in place yet. But im certain of something, and that is that both of us are messed individuals which reached the bottom doing the same thing - but the way my understandment of the human soul goes: two people can act by mere interaction as reactives to each other, creating a new chemical compound after the fact.
– This new psychology is very much like chemistry. But it is not my intention to draw you into something, but to pull myself out of this «something» by doing right on another person and maybe that person reflecting the good back on me. I just need a conversation partner, thats all. And i will do this with you, and with many people more. Presidents included.
The alien reflected on it, and after the hiatus of a long standing position of suspicion he finally gave in, and eased up with a slight smile. A strange smile of relief. But the smile, was all too familiar for me, as i realized the man was a tortured individual: a person in long standing pain. I smiled back the way he did, and continued.
– Our pain has a common name, and is a name that can be written with words unfortunately. It’s the devilish mother of all spiritual ills and its foundation, rests at the concept of a past that wasnt solved. It’s called «inadequeacy», and for people like you and me, understanding one day that such inadecuacy had to be solved by our own means, lead us into an act where our name changed as the changes in our cover up act to solve our inadequacy did.
– We never honored the past or the present in our pursuit, as we desired in passion to find solution to the present, by matching it into the idealization of some future without ever realizing that the old or present essence of ones being would be crushed into non existance by said future.
– Then we found the realization of that new name, only to understand that its demands became a tyranny on the other faces of our soul: as our soul is not something that can be undestood in unity, but something that conceives in the beginning in multiple things which try to give shape to one thing. Theres many people in a village, and our minds, are no exception.
— But happiness is only achieved by those who have their soul entire - or those who are the same person regardless of the context and scenario. And we gave to much to somebody that wasn't us, as our spirit took possession and lead us down.
– This is this the essence by which someone goes to hell, only to do one thing over again, getting an ever lasting pain for all the things that were given up chasing that which was absent. The more someone is forced into being shaped by the thing that was concevied in lust, the more the individual misses the place they used to call home, for that is no longer within ones reach. Does this makes sense to you?
The alien left me with no answer, and as he contemplated the sea, a tear travelled through his strange face.
– In this state of anguish, affliction rarely ever feels company, as the very individual condition that was pursued, became a full suit and persona to be forced upon and wear. Hell, is one lonely place man because we only learn to speak a language, that only makes sense to ourselves. But i think we can find a way out of it. This is why I'm here.
“Look, what you’ve done, it’s not something i can see the way you can see my own doing on me.” The alien replied. “Besides the way in which i canno’t see your face in this night, you seem ordinary — but what you talk and the way you say it, evokes in every word regret. What is it that you’ve done that has you regret like this?”
As the alien finished speaking, I emptied the can of beer, layed my eyes on the irregular grooves that my feet had left on the sand, and then replied back to him, after making a recap of the story i had repeatedly told myself after falling down.
“My story, is the fairy tale of a guy who makes way for the new coming of a new man; a better man for the world, while he casts disarray upon the earth: much to his dismay, at the expense of his own soul as the people who become victims of disasters, were ones who this man deemed unfair; cruel, evil, despicable in past. That was at the beginning."
"Theres a pile of corpses behind that character — even in covid time, people as close as the local priest of the small town he lived in, would break their neck after falling in the shower, as he had the slightest suspicion of their secret deeds. All clean deads for that matter. Untraceable to nothing but sheer randomness. Magic as it seeems. But were this folk truly evil people or even guilty of anything? You may ask - the man never knew it for sure, as he never had faculties such as godly omniscience to actually know it; which has taken a toll on him, as the burden of justice is an unberable one for anything but a god."
"Which leads to another point: spontaneously picturing random numbers in the head, associating them with psychological compounds by angular momentum, and actually being bang on the suspicion. Truth friend, in its stochastic presentation: it's unberable.”
“Consequential of such attempts to rationalize his own story in the eyes of people such as close family, my dude became clinically diagnosed with referenced thinking. Which are fancy words for schizophrenia. Nobody believed the story as it was uttered."
"Yet the consequences are there for everyone to see, altought not visible in their cause and effect by anybody but this guy, which lead him first into regret over ever starting his quest as a reformer; and then repent.”
“Now before he realized of this lets call it «curse», he preached for years over the internet as the disasters started to slowly creep up. He preached in a fashion parallel to Niestzches Zarathustra; Zarathustra meaning a famous philosophical device artificied by the philosopher Niestzche, who’s aim was to portray the best posible man, as something he dubbed the <<Übermensch>> ”.
“Such concept being the seemingly more elegant brand of a humanist ideal for a not so distant future: today - albeit a wrong one, for this guy was not dyonisian himself. The backbone of his framework, is analytical psycholgy becoming a chariot for a true understandment of human nature: and ultimately a facilitator for love within light: not within ignorance; not within darkness. Most philosophers today though would mock anything analytical in it's aim."
"Then on the guy preached and dwelved further into the relative hole of his own doctrine: and became imprisoned by what he didn’t got right at first attempt, making him in the process the character that Nietzsche from the comfort of his own writers seat, never attempted to actually embody within realistic means: eventually figuring out within himself the ultimate Nietzschean aristocrat: a magic pen granted by being capetian by mother: from judah by father."
"But Alas, you have no idea how common suicide is within philosophers after they finish their best work. As language, becomes the ultimate barrier for understandment, and then to ones capacity to feel love. Difference — true saliency in ones individual destiny— leads to the gravest posible pain. Ironic isn’t it?”
“Besides technical work with a new form of psychology inspired by analytical chemistry, as that drawed from his efforts during the light of day, five years ago, once he felt the urge to try to reach out to the world from a position of what he deemed was greater understandment: he primitively preached during night his new set of ideas for people to behave beyond the limitations of manipulative psychology, albeit a harsh doctrine meant to clear the way for a better product: Christ himself."
"This is not a doctrine a human being can actually perform, as such its christianity at its highest capacity to bear fruit. It’s an impossible doctrine, yet solves the oldest problem posed in the bible. All which sounds very sci-fi bullshit-y but actual problems started for the protagonist in this tale, when the preaching matched with terrible consequences. Not figurative, but within tangible reality.”
“So just as we talk, theres a small legion of hackers pretending to be doing internet social experiments while talking in an artsy matter: much in my own style, entertaining the exact same concepts - a legion of dangerous monkeys, i have no control over."
"One of the many unexpected consequences being this, yet prompted by something evil; ancient: essentially replicating what my protagonist developed and then preached over the years, while these "hacktivists" lay their attention on things and people, as they select them and enforce upon them strict surveillance, to behave properly. Then to destroy them, as they did in 2020 with many corporations and institutions.A bizarre combination of theater actors to my own liking, and then cyber-security demigods: omniscient in their claims to surveill, and they are - derivative such of another device of what I've done; which is to build a theater so people can make-believe that they are infact performing within themselves something greater - but that's matter for another story."
“Most of the corpses piling up flat out dead, have no relation to him whatsoever; they became victims as my protagonist took measures to fight back the monster he found at the foundation of the known world. This is not an elaborate analogy for one's own unseen capacity for evil, as i mean this: a monster as literally as it can be. For these things friend, im doomed as in true strenght, i have nothing but the pen i use to write down what i think albeit always at danger of it’s eventual inversion. I have no real friends left. Not one who can understand, or help bear the pain: as friendship and love are all gated by understandment."
"The full story has many more vertients, but i think i’ve done it enough justice. This is the predicament of an insane man chased by his own shadow as he builds a better man: one who delivers heavenly things, and then a shadow stringed to deliver tyranny as the very strings behind him make the better man stumble while he tries to keep a grasp of his own spirit, and then of his own soul."
"That monster behind, is wicked smart — and cannot be outwitted nor overpowered but anything but divine smite."
“I’m heading now to a new country, to try to get friends from the only institution in the world who knows and adresses the current times being, and who by extension, might believe me. And to clarify, these being the end of times; but not the end of the world. Yet now i myself have a damocles sword pending over my own head, and i need to do something about it before it falls.”
And as i said these things, i reached out to my backpack drawing a third can of beer from it — besides my own super laptop, thats what my backpack had: an infinite supply of beer. Corona, Indio, Victoria, Dos Equis, Heineken; you name it. I popped the can, and gave it a long and definite sip as i emptied it complete.
The alien didn't try to show that he understood, but stood still in silence, with his sight in the sand below and pressing lips, knowing by my demeanor; that these things as I've said them was something that I needed to do. Then he said: "I don't follow man. You say you preach and then disasters occur. Like a prophet from the bible?"
"Yes. Then I preached to get rid of the things that are actually making the world worse, and something awoke soon after, and since then; everything I do is subject to being misinterpreted due to the diffamatory action of this thing. Now everytime I do something, it can be twisted and turned against my original intent. Right now the hackers are my worst problem: I may have a degree in computers but I have no fucking idea whatsoever of hacking. I earn my living as an A.I engineer.".
The alien raised his sight to meet with mine, and after doing some contemplation on the fact, quite simply said: "You are insane". Then lowered his own sight, and raised it again to meet with the sea and continued. "If you want a tattoo, we can work that out. But either way and whatever parts of your story are true and even worse; the ones you may be lying about: you sound dangerous in a delusional kind of sense, and my life is hard enough as is."
I pressed my fists, knowing then the old same thing had happened again. For I had never forced anything upon anybody, and I was willing to respect that until the bitter end. Then I released the build up of frustration with a loud sigh, and after this amend, I replied back.
"I understand and respect it. But let me just propose you that if you ever want to figure what is beyond life as it's lived by person who has never seen what is like to be someone you write a great story about; you can pin me, and I'll show you what's beyond that door. Give it some thought."
The alien; The Black Alien Project stayed there sitting, spechless but calm, almost expecting something else to be convinced about. But pointless, for i knew that nobody can be forced into anything without bringing a transgression into play – and i wasn’t one to taint myself in sin if it could be avoided. Not anymore.
3.
I made the distance at steady pace walking along the shore, until i found a small group of pines in-between the liminal space of the beach and the land. I sat with one of the pines trunk behind my back, and drawed the Schizo Pills from my eternal supply of traveller goodies.
Quetiapine 100 mg, and Olanzapine 10 mg, i made a smaller fragment from the olanzapine pill, and swallowed both complete. As their side effects were concerned, they would soon knock me out of conscience, as this little ritual was my own way of calling the day complete – then i layed there, vigilant, waiting for my own drowsiness to claim me into sleep - but the Bird of Britan came flying from above, and stood besides me.
\Chirp, Chirp, Chirp**
I watched the bird, annoyed, as its presence had become an omen for contempt. For me and the death people of my past. I frowned upon the little shit, and said nothing. The bird made a little nod, while tilting its head in excentricity the way birds do, and replied. — Hey Andrew!, do you remember when you tried to penetrate your own computer to make a universe grow inside of it? I just wan’t to know something: did your computer moan? Did it finally learnt how to scream your name?
\Chirp Chirp**
Ignoring the bird, i closed my eyes and stayed like that for a long moment, hoping to make the bird think i was asleep. Maybe that would make him leave.
— Can’t bullshit me like that Sweetheart. So please tell me something; why don’t you command one of your supermodels; these muses, to come here and warm the bed for you. It's a cold night and you seem lonely brah
. \Chirp Chirp**
I opened my eyes, and irritated, pointed menacingly at the bird turning my left hand into an imaginary gun. I had already failed at something today, and wasn’t convinced i needed the memory of the things i failed at before. Not now.

• Hol’ up cowboy ! you wan’t to bang my bird ass when you should be banging a bitch ass. What happened with Tyrone huckleberry? Did you managed to make him as impotent as you are right now? —I held steady my hand; and tired, the tempation to pull again the trigger on the bird was growing larger. I saw red roses in my own sight, making a terrible omen for a migraine forthcoming. Said nothing.

— The glowniggers are out there brah. You may not be a hacker – and its true, but i took notice of your last words: so now the glowies are going to instead dreambooth* people into every posible kind of scenario of extorsion, while they surveil like a motherfucker. Like you dream boothed yourself for your little ahem "art project". Then we will use Suno*, then Sora* when it open sources. Are you going to protect your hoes?
Said nothing.

• Alright cowboy, i will give meaning to that revelations verse. What was it? Ah yes. Revelations 9:6. Every single person with an internet history will be as paranoid as you were in 2020. Everyone will be diffamated into acts of political terrorism! Aren’t you am-

And as i pulled the imaginary trigger from the imaginary pistol, an imaginary arrow in the sky descended with a blaze of not so imaginary flames on the Bird of Britain, engulfing the little shit in heat, and making it’s body explode into a gore of scorched viscera. As if the bird was in a microwave oven. I inmediately gasped as the explosion was too close from where i was sitting - after the conmotion, stared at the red and burned stain in the floor, and left my sight rest there, as sleep finally found its way into my restless thoughts.
"No longer care for love unless it's between good friends”. Said to myself. There was certainly a migraine coming, but maybe my dreams would help convince it otherwise. And as far as the hoes were concerned, Furious Angels would be there for them. Like the Rob Dougan song.
4.
Found my own mind after the slumber – asleep, then awake. I realized several hours passed - at least enough to wake up and witness the sun rise above the sea. But as for dreams, the light veil of their memories wasn't something to rely upon. But i did remember something, and it was some overtone in dread; an atmosphere of fear – and a kind of dread sustained in it’s inevitability by the urgency that builds upon dearth.
Now what exactly was it though? I couldn’t remember from my dreams, but ever since i falled to my own death i had always present in mind the future succesion of events that would follow when things started to go very wrong. Iran, the U.S, Israel - now whatever was it in the news; the outcome would be the same. A thousand more cuts to an already languishing economy. Make that corpse bleed, and then fall off a cliff.
As such things would be cooked, just as the bird of britain. The bird was still there though: just in pieces and roasted like the contents of a dropped KFC bucket would. But the little shit would return - as it always did. The economy? Not so much.
Yet i digress. None of the world circumstances mattered as far i was concerned – i had built a small and portable solar system to power my laptop, and my beer supply was well, infinite - i made myself sure that i had my needs covered whatever happened around me. Not tied to even a house for that matter. I incorporated myself and gave my back a stretch. The morning breeze coming from the sea evocated in my memories some time that had long passed – late childhood. I rejected those memories as they beared with them things i didnt wan’t to remember - then wen’t on as usual in my morning routine scrolling through my instagram feed, figuring if there were any new hoes to maybe motivate me into doing my God imposed labour.
Labour which was to either write, or to finish the House of Water — then after scrolling i did in fact saw a new hoe; i dropped a Faux Pas comment. Maybe she would play along, maybe not. Whatever. Sometimes I would put in a lot of effort to do a rhyme. But the effort depended on the insta-hoe in question. I know. Not the best of habits, but back in elementary school i was the kind of kid that would only get motivation when the girls in the classroom were present in physEd. And then i would run faster: whole lotta faster. Run Forrest! Run! Women love used to fuel me; and the habit sticked — and at the moment, i was kinda done with the idea of female trascendence. Would rely on their love, but not on their validation. Not like a simp. Fuck that.
Furthermore, what results did i demonstrably mustered after pursuing true egalitarianism and sharing it? Exactly. A bitch gonna do what a bitch gonna do, and so does the human female. After publishing the comment, I locked my phone and walked towards the highway, as i was planning to pay a visit to somebody long forgotten - I had kind of a schedule that i was going to follow, before taking the plane to Madrid and become hispanic Jon Snow from the walgreens Nightwatch.

I’m 22 ftm, and I live with my grandparents. They requested I live with them to help them out.
I’m honestly really devastated at the moment so I’m not sure what to do or say, I’m sorry if this post is messy. I intend on starting HRT on Monday, taking a low dose of Testosterone. I’ve known I was a man since I was 14 years old, and I experience dysphoria with my voice and looking feminine. I’ve socially transitioned, and my school and job accept me for who I am.
My family, though, all have varying levels of disagreeing with the LGBTQ. I came out when I was 19. My uncles are the types of guys to assume all gay men will force themselves on them, my dad told me I will never be a real man and that I’m a beautiful girl, and anyone who referred to me by my proper pronouns or name were essentially bullied into misgendering and deadnaming me. I only know this because a former ally told me he can no longer respect my identity because he “needs to be on (his) wife’s side.” I understood, but it hurt.
Flash forward to now. I dress androgynous and occasionally wear a dress because- let’s be real- dresses are super comfortable. Who WANTS to wear pants all the time? Not me, even if I’m masc aligned.
That being said, my gender dysphoria has been particularly bad- to the point where I did something drastic last year that took me a while to recover from. After healing from it, getting a job, and finishing out my semester in college, I went to a gender clinic that would work with my health insurance to see what options would be best for me.
After about two hours of discussing my personal journey, my family’s medical issues, and discussing the options they can provide, we decided biweekly low dosage testosterone injections were the way to go for how I’d like to present. They draw my blood, see that I’m medically fit, and schedule an appointment a month out for me to get my first testosterone injection in their office so I know how to do them at home.
Last night, my grandmother, 64F (who, by all accounts, is one of my most liberal family members) calls me down to talk after I come home from work. She pulls out a letter that she had opened addressed to me by my preferred name. Again, she knows I’m trans. I’ve explained it to her before, but she’s always been subtly doubtful. It’s small things like “you think you’re a boy” and “you call yourself Dylan” as opposed to just saying I’m a boy or that I go by Dylan. Honestly, the second one sounds like I run around and talk in the third person and everyone calls me by my legal name, which amuses me a little, but is still pretty disrespectful.
The letter is from the clinic, and it shows the date of my upcoming appointment. She said my grandfather (75M) gave it to her, and not to me. They opened my mail without my permission, which is illegal, but they do it all the time. My grandfather mentioned that it was the same place I could get hormones, and if I did that, he would kick me out. My grandmother seemingly agrees with this, and told me that, and that he’s very anti-lgbtq.
There’s a few problems with this story I couldn’t process at the time: - My grandfather was one of the first people I came out to, and he was very accepting of me. This was only three years ago, but I understand his memory and personality may change drastically in old age. He even bought me my first binder! - My grandmother was openly against me getting HRT, and always has been. - My family (her sons mostly) has claimed she’s very controlling and has “always wanted a little girl.” I was her only granddaughter and her daughters, so I feel like that may also affect her. - She has constantly put in my head that I am intellectually disabled. I can agree I’m behind the curve for people my age, but not so much I need to be monitored and watched over for the rest of my life like she seems to imply
That night, I sobbed in my car because of the betrayal. I thought she loved me, but I think I love my grandmother more than she loves me, sometimes. Or maybe just not in the same way.
Tonight, she and I will have dinner out. I don’t have the energy to fight, but I’ll record our conversation if it comes to that so I can organize points at a later date to discuss with her. I won’t be cancelling my HRT, and I have resources in case she does kick me out, but it never really hurts to have more. Thanks for reading, I’ll update later tonight.

Credit to Blue for the wonderful cover art of Trilvri
Thank you to:
u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the Nature of Predators universe.
u/EdibleGojid, author of Dark Cuts, for proofreading.
EmClear, aspiring author, for proofreading
You, the reader, for your support. I love reading your comments.
Please consider reading the works of my proofreaders as they’re all authors of excellent stories and be sure to check the links below for more of my work and beautiful art from members of the community.
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Memory transcription subject: Sawvek, Junior Extermination Officer
Date [standardised human time]: October 5th, 2136
Hard foam presses uncomfortably up against delicate pressure points situated across the length of my entire body, building up to an unbearable ache that makes me shift and turn against the thin mattress pad. I yank at the rough old blanket I’d taken out of storage and clutch it even tighter around my body, trying to keep out the chill. The best racks, the ones near the heating vents, had already been claimed long before I’d decided to move into the Guild House’s Barracks and it doesn’t seem likely that the current occupants will be giving up their spots any time soon.
My mind is still racing from the events of last paw, replaying the scene over and over again in my dreams and in my head. The way my brother had looked at me… That look on his face when he’d seen the real me…
My paw gives a sympathetic throb in memory, still aching from where it had met the wall, but at least I had been able to wrap it up a bit and stop the bleeding. I feel like I should take it as a small miracle that it isn't broken. More medical bills are the last thing I need right now.
I turn about in the bunk once more, rolling around in vain to try and find a comfortable position that doesn’t seem to exist. Through a conscious act of will I try to empty my mind and sleep, but the very act of trying not to think about things only brings them bubbling back up to the surface of my thoughts. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, a damnable drumming sound brought about by the exertion of my own restless tossing and turning. Out in the hallway I can hear the muffled shuffling of feet and murmurs of conversation. The Guild Hall never sleeps, and it seems that neither would I this paw.
Electing to abandon the attempt as hopeless, I cut my rest claw short and get up, venturing out into the hallway. If I can’t sleep anyway then I might as well start my waking claw early, maybe get in a little exercise. It’s not so bad when it’s self-directed, almost fun in a way. If our family had the money to support it then maybe I could have been an athlete of some variety growing up. I had always possessed something of a natural physicality.
“Stop wasting time with worthless questions about what could have been, Killer.” The voice interjects, early and active today by the sound of it. “You’ll never amount to anything more than a wild predator kept on a leash.”
There’s nothing to do but sigh and carry on. It was right after all. This is it. This is my life now.
Making my way down the hallway towards the gym I find myself walking past a row of private offices assigned to some of the more veteran officers on staff. Most are empty at this claw, their occupants either asleep or off doing other work. One room in particular catches my attention though, the one belonging to our newest PRED Team Commander.
The door leading inside is open and ajar, seemingly forgotten in the midst of more pressing business and granting me a look inside. The entire room is a mess, papers and binders strewn about everywhere with official looking documents littering the floor. A map of the city decorates the otherwise unadorned and impersonal space. On its face it hosts a variety of multicoloured pins, all connecting seemingly arbitrary locations as well as photographs of people and places from the records department. The face of the former PRED Team Commander, Vrienna, looks out at me once again with the same cruel eyes that decorate the memorial wall. Beside her photo are another pair of eyes, a pair I recognise, but not one I would have expected to see here.
Trilvri, my brother’s creepy coworker, the one who’d brought him home the night he’d drunk himself into a stupor, stares out at me from the wall. He was younger in this photo, barely of age, if even that, and dressed in a regulation space corps flight suit, but I could still recognise him. Trilvri’s eyes appear somehow more lively than when I had met him in person, though it does nothing to improve his overall disposition, looking, as they are, as if behind them resides only hatred and a feral desire to kill and rend. Come to think of it, he had mentioned he used to be in the corps hadn’t he? ‘Used to’ being the operative word. When I’d asked he hadn’t seemed particularly fond of his time in the service…
Situated as he is next to Vrienna like that, their pitch-black wool and evil-looking eyes bear a striking resemblance. It was the exact same sort of predatory expression that bore into your soul, the kind that made me feel weak and exposed, the same kind that was worn by-
“What do you think you’re doing in my office?” A voice asks from behind, nonplussed, but with a casual depth of power and authority behind it that makes me freeze on the spot.
“Commander Glagrig, Sir!” I turn about on the spot, fixed at attention in the doorway as I stare up at the man himself. “I’m sorry to intrude. I noticed someone had forgotten to close the door so I was just going to secure it.”
“I see.” Glagrig doesn’t seem to believe a word of it, but neither does he seem inclined to press the issue. “At ease. Tell me, do you recognise the man in the photo there? Have you ever seen him before?”
“No, Commander.” I lie reflexively as I shift to a parade rest, not fully knowing why, but knowing that whatever is going on I want no part of it, for me or my brother. It’s only after the fact that it occurs to me that lying might be worse than telling the truth.
“How… regrettable.” The prestige officer says plainly and I can’t tell whether he believes me or not. “If you do ever catch sight of this individual, then be sure to let me know immediately.”
“Y-Yes, Commander.” I subconsciously swallow with apprehension, hoping that he doesn’t notice. I want nothing more than to run away as quickly as I can, but I haven’t been dismissed yet.
“Junior Officer Sawvek, was it?” Glagrig carries on, looking me up and down, dissecting me with his eyes. “You have quite the interesting record on file and Officer Intalran is quite adamant about your potential. Your simulator results speak for themselves, even if they are just simulations.”
“Thank you, Commander.” I can feel myself growing dizzy as I answer with uncertainty.
“Don’t thank me,” the all-consuming void in front of me replies with no hint of warmth, “just remember that your performance is under evaluation. It’s in my interests to keep note of promising young aspirants who might someday join my team, and I would hate to see you squander your talents.”
“I-I understand, Commander.” I flick my tail in agreement, straining not to look away towards the floor.
“Dismissed.” Glagrig brushes past me as he enters his office, moving to shut the door behind himself.
“Um, Commander?” I ask just before the door shuts, feeling a beckoning call of curiosity that even the predatory prestige exterminator couldn’t crush. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why do you have all that stuff up on the wall there?”
The door opens again, just a crack, and I can feel my superiors' weighty presence bearing down on me, almost suffocating in its intensity. “It’s simply a personal matter. I have reason to believe that the prior investigation regarding the kelach incident was conducted according to… insufficient standards. The predator responsible was never found and I intend to remedy that deficiency.”
“How hard could it be to find a kelach?” I tilt my ears in confusion. “They're huge!”
“Despite initial reports,” he answers with an ominous, cold tone that sends a chill up my spine, “it may be possible that we're dealing with something far more dangerous than just a kelach.”
“T-Thank you, Commander.” I flick my tail in appreciation and the door closes.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the malevolent aura recedes. That was too close.
“And you’re a complete moron going back to ask him more questions afterwards, Killer.” The voice rises with amusement. “What? Do you want him to figure you out and turn you to cinders? Only a matter of time, Killer.”
“Ugh, shut up.” I mutter under my breath, quickly turning back around to make sure Commander Glagrig didn’t hear me, but when no reprisal comes I quickly depart. If I’m gonna be stupid I should at least try not to do so right in front of his office.
As the imminent threat of our in-house prestige exterminator dwindles so too does the energy driven by the adrenaline of the encounter. It figures that the moment I roll out of bed I want to take a nap again, but I know the moment I lie back down I’ll be back to full wakefulness in an instant. That’s just how that sort of thing works. With that in mind there’s really only one solution, a big, steaming hot cup of tea.
Making my way towards the tea machine I spot Jonsco, the feisty little primitive that mans our dispatch centre, smacking the top of the dispenser with a clenched paw while holding a mug underneath it.
“Is the tea machine fixed?” I ask as I pull out a mug from the cabinet myself.
Jonsco sighs heavily and shoots me a combative glare. “For the last time it’s not my brahking job to fix this damn tea machine! You got a problem with that then you can go pester someone else about it!”
I shrink back under the harsh rebuke. Jonsco may be small, but there was as much rage and fury condensed into that little package as anyone else in this department. Maybe more.
“I… I didn’t mean to imply…I just wanted to know if it was working again or not… Sorry.” I sputter out, feeling properly admonished as I look away towards the ground.
Jonsco looks at me quizzically, his hard glare softening somewhat as he seems to truly see me for the first time before returning to his usual scowl.
“Right…Whatever you say…” With one final smack the machine coughs and chokes, sputtering to life with a struggle, and a small trickle of freshly brewed tea begins to fill Jonsco’s cup. “The machine is on the fritz again as usual, but if you hit it just right, do a little percussive maintenance, then you can get it started again.”
“Thanks, Jonsco.” I lean back against the wall and watch as the mug slowly fills, impressed by the primitives know-how. “That's actually pretty smart of you.”
“For a ‘primitive’ right?” The words are barbed and spiteful, but lack his typical enthusiasm, more of a simple statement of fact than a real question. I couldn't exactly deny it, those had been my thoughts, and so the silence drags on awkwardly, marked only by the splash of tea falling into the steadily rising pool.
“What are you doing here at this claw anyway?” I eventually ask, dodging the question entirely. “We’ve still got at least another half-claw until our crew's shift is supposed to start.”
“I could ask you the same thing, you know?” The angry little dispatch operator retorts. “I'm here early working an overtime shift so I can afford to put food on my family's table. It's expensive feeding that many mouths. What's your excuse?”
“I had a fight with my brother…” I rub the back of my neck as I turn away abashedly, “moved out of the apartment and into the barracks full time… couldn't sleep…”
“Well then you should hurry up and work on patching things up with him.” Jonsco looks at me with an uncharacteristic hint of sympathy in his eyes. “Your family are the only ones who might actually care. This Gods-damned place is a slyther’s nest and no one here gives a speh about you or your problems. If you want my advice, you should do your best to spend as little time in this cesspool as possible.”
With his cup now full, Jobsco steps back from the machine and begins walking out towards the main hall.
“Thanks, Jonsco.” My words stop him in his tracks as he walks away from me. “I appreciate it.”
“... You're welcome.” He says after a short pause, glancing back to look at me one more time before leaving. “See you around, Sawvek.”
Taking advantage of the tea machine while it’s still mostly working, I fill up my own cup and drink deeply of the warm, fragrant beverage. The taste is bitter and unpleasant, just about the quality I would expect of this Guild Hall, but even at the first taste it’s evident that it’s been loaded with an extra strength dose of caffeine. I down the drink quickly and rinse out the cup before continuing on my journey towards the training hall. Fatigue begins to fall away as I walk, bit by bit as the drug makes its way into my bloodstream, blocking off sleep receptors and energising me. I know I’ll probably pay for it later, no amount of caffeine can actually replace sleep, but for now it feels good and I can see how some people can get addicted to the stuff.
A loud, metallic clanging emanates from the gym as I approach, something unexpected for this time of paw. No one's reserved space in the gym for this claw and not many people are industrious enough to sweat on their own initiative. Peeking my head inside the door I spy Bikim, the perfect, privileged, ‘holier than thou’ brahkass occupying the otherwise empty weight room. His irritatingly handsome face is taut with strain as he performs a series of weighted squats, his back and leg muscles straining underneath his short-cropped wool, and he pants heavily under the exertion.
I’m half tempted just to leave and go back to bed despite the fact that there’s no way I’d be getting any sleep with the tea running through my system. It’s too early in the paw to deal with Bikim’s speh. Before I can slip away unnoticed though, he spots me. I give a heavy sigh and continue my way inside. There's nothing to be done for it now. Trying to back out now would only make things worse later, a sign of weakness.
“What… Do you want… Predator?” Bikim asks between gulps of air as he reracks his weights, practically hanging off the bar to support himself on shaky legs.
“Good paw to you too, Bikim.” I say, forcing civility into my tone. “I’m here to use the equipment. Same as you. I'm allowed.”
“Whatever…” He eyes me with suspicion. “Just keep your distance… I don't want to catch any of your taint.”
“Believe me,” I flick my tail out in irritation, “I intend to.”
Looking around the room for available spots, I march my way over towards a cable machine on the opposite side of the room. Not nearly as far from Bikim as I would like, but the farthest I can get without leaving the weight area entirely. Bikim watches me all the while as I seat myself down and begin adjusting the machine. Eventually he grows tired of watching me fumble around with the machine and returns to his own exercises with a displeased flick of the tail, quite obviously judging me for my lack of experience with the equipment.
A tense sort of quiet settles over the room as we each go about our business, trying our best to ignore one another. Bikim slowly winds his way around the room, cycling from station to station to exercise all the different parts of his body in sequence before repeating it all again. He seems to bypass my corner of the room, glancing over at me with each repetition of his pattern. For myself, I stay put where I am, taking advantage of the varied exercises offered by the versatile machine to experiment with different muscle groups. Occasionally I slip up, dropping the weights with a loud clang that always draws Bikim’s ire. Every time he seems just a bit more disgruntled, a bit less patient. Eventually, the constant disruption reaches a tipping point and the pompous, self-entitled jerk walks over to confront me.
“Do you always do this?” He asks rhetorically. “If you keep slamming the weights like that you're gonna break it. Your form is speh so either fix it or lower the weight so you don't have to keep compensating. Better yet, just leave. You’ve been monopolising the cable machine for almost half a claw now. I don't know why you're even here in the first place.”
“Oh, look at Mr. Know-it-all thinking he can just go around telling us what to do, eh Killer?” The voice rises to the challenge. “Where does a guy like that who's been handed everything his whole life think he can get off with telling us how we should be doing anything?”
“Brahk off Bikim!” I don't even try to reign in the predator inside, feeling justified in letting it roam free for once. “I didn't ask for your advice and you don't get to kick me out of the weight room just because you can't wait your turn! I'm here because I don't have anywhere else to go! Ever since Intalran dragged me into this stupid Guild this brahking job has taken over my entire life! I don't even have a home to go back to anymore!”
Bikim's body tenses at my tirade and his tail flicks out aggressively like a whip.
“That's your own damn fault, predator!” He shouts back, eager for the excuse to vent his own frustrations. “Maybe if you weren't just some blood-starved beast out roaming the streets then you wouldn't be here right now! I’ve read your file! You got a history of herdless behaviour and physical altercations! Someone should have institutionalised you a long time ago, but someone took pity on you and let you slip through the cracks because of your poor dying mommy! They should have known it would come back to bite them! A normal, functional member of the herd wouldn't even think to pick a flamer up off the ground and burn another person to death with it! But you? You did it instinctively! You revelled in it!”
“You think that was easy for me!” I get up and walk towards him as I yell incredulously. “You think I asked for that to happen! You think it was fun for me to get choked out and almost eaten! That thing I burned wasn't even a person anymore! It was a predator in the middle of a feeding frenzy! So yeah, I did what I did, and you know what? It's a good thing I did! If I wasn't a freak of nature then that thing would have kept on going and kept on killing! Last I checked, preventing that sorta thing was supposed to be your job, but I had to be the one to step up! Now I have to live with the consequences of my actions every paw, knowing that I’m a Protector-damned killer that doesn't belong anywhere! Maybe you, in your infinite wisdom, would've known the perfect thing to do in that situation, but I’m not you! I’ve had to work and struggle for every little thing I have! Not just had it handed to me on a silver platter!”
“Oh, so you got me all figured out do you?” Sarcasm drips from Bikim's mouth as he looks down on me. “You don't know me. You don't know my life or what I’ve been through, how hard I’ve worked to get where I am. You just see the end product from cycles of effort and assume that it's always been that way, that it's always been that easy. It hasn't.”
“Yes, I’m sure you had it so hard growing up Bikim.” Saying it aloud almost makes me laugh. “You’re such a child of privilege that it drips off of you with every move you make and every word you say. I hate people like you, thinking that you're better than everyone else just because you were lucky enough to be born into wealth and status. Try living like the other side for a change, scrounging for every credit just so you can afford to eat, and then try to tell me how hard you had it with a full belly and a warm home!”
“You’re right, predator,” Bikim says contemptuously, “I am a child of privilege. My family has a long and decorated military tradition, my father is a captain for the space corps, a brahking hero, and I’ve reaped the benefits of that. That privilege came at a cost though, and that’s called expectations. Second best is not good enough and I've had to put in ten times the effort as anyone else my whole life just to meet standards! At least you grew up with a father who was there for you and loved you without the condition that everything you do is perfect!”
“All that talk about reading my file and you didn't even get past the first page did you?” I snap at him with a snarl. “ I didn't grow up with a father at all! He's been dead since I was in elementary school! Killed in action! I barely even remember him anymore!”
That one seems to give Bikim pause, but I’m not done yet.
“If you and your whole family are such a bunch of brahking heroes then how come you're here, working as a common garrison exterminator in a run-down backwater city like this?” I taunt. “Shouldn't you be out gallantly fighting the Arxur with one of the fleets or on a colony pacification force rather than making my life here harder than it already is?”
“That's the price for failing to meet expectations,” Bikim quiets down, drawing away from the world and into himself, “the price for knocking up a beautiful, wonderful girl right after graduation and refusing to get rid of it afterwards. You get cut off. You lose that privilege, and you do whatever you have to in order to provide and try to be a good role model for your son.”
Now that one threw me for a loop. In the short time I’ve known Bikim I’ve had a lot of thoughts about him, few of them good, but never would I have expected him to be the type to take responsibility… For anything. Still, there is one thing about his story that doesn't line up…
“Oh really?” I take a step back as I watch for his reaction closely. “I seem to recall Jonsco mentioned just the other day that your wife had left you for a Human.”
“Don't you bring that brahking primitive into this!” Bikim's anger flares in an instant before returning to a subtle simmer of regret. “We’ve just been having a… a rough patch in our relationship. I’m not giving up on us. I’ll win her back. She's just… confused and being taken advantage of! It's all that damn predators fault!” Bikim sighs and sits down on a nearby bench. “You're not the only one whose had something taken from them because of this job. You're not the only one without a home to go back to.”
Looking at Bikim now, a sad, pathetic man moping on the bench with nothing better to do on his rest claw than to try to externalise his inner pain… I find it hard to stay angry at him. He's still a narcissistic brahk ass and a complete jerk, but it's hard to truly hate someone when you actually know them. I had made quite a few assumptions about him when we first met, and he certainly hadn't helped my impression of him since, but… perhaps I was wrong to judge him so harshly?
“Nah,” the voice chortles, “he’s a piece of speh that got what he brahking deserves for being an insufferable prick.”
Overhead the intercom crackles to life and I can hear Jonsco's voice reverberating over the airwaves.
“Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment. Repeat. Officers Vaesh and Sawvek please report to the briefing area for assignment.”
“Sounds like it's time for your first field assignment, Kid.” Bikim says, staring up at the intercom. “At least it gets you out of my wool. Try not to brahk it up and make the rest of us look bad.”
“Hmph.” I turn to leave, muttering to myself. “Stupid brahkass.”
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A/N - Hello! Sorry this one took a while. Like I mentioned before I got delayed working on my Ficnapping chapter as well as a crossover One-shot that's still in progress (but hopefully will be done soon). In other news we have new art of Sawvek's life-changing encounter in the Builder's Lane Bloodbath as drawn by Miglove and you can still find that and everything else Nature of Family in the new Master Post linked up above.
If you like the story then please remember to upvote, comment, and use the “!Subscribeme” function to be alerted to all new posts. I post as often as I can but real life has a tendency of getting in the way and my job makes it almost impossible to keep to any kind of schedule. Your engagement and support go a long way towards helping to keep me on track and motivated, so thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll stay tuned for next chapter!

Disclosure: I am not a lawyer and the below is not, nor intended to be, legal advice or legal opinion
I was going to look at some more values of banners, but discovered instead that AFK Journey is straight up lying to us in their in-game store. For those in the U.S., the FTC requires "claims in advertisements must be truthful, cannot be deceptive or unfair, and must be evidence-based." From just a little bit of math, I have found AFK Journey's proposed in-game value/deals to be misleading about that actual value of the bundle(s).
Tl;dr: Over half the bundles listed in the Trolley is of lower "value" than what the game advertises them to be. Although the percentage difference may appear small, these differences can amount to hundreds of Dragon Crystals, such as in the Stargazer Station Bundles (both weekly and monthly bundles). Even if the data is interpreted most charitable to Lillith AND you take into account bundles where you get more value, you would still end up with over 100 Dragon Crystals short from the expected value if bundles are bought at the listed cost.
I have screenshot the store, in case Lillith manipulates the values afterwards. If you have bought one of the bundles that are actually of less value, you might at least have some ground to complain to the developers to get some money/crystals back.
I haven't had a chance to look at the "discounts" in the stores for veracity since I already bought out the stock. If anyone has any idea, particularly for the Epic Recruitment letter and Stargazer Orb in Guild Store, and the All-Hero Recruitment Letter, Epic Recruitment Letter, and Stargazer Orb discounts in the Recruitment Store, please let me know and I can check whether they are accurate or misleading.
Baselines
First, a baseline using the Permanent Bundles and the Dragon Crystals to Gems conversion rates in the Trolley:
1 Dragon Crystal (DC) = 2 Diamonds (gems) 1 Tidal Essence (Blue Essence) = 30 gems 1 Temporal Essence (Orange Essence) = 152 gems 1 Stargazer (Scamgazer) Orb = 450 gems
NOTE: If calculated using Dolly Tickets instead of the Permanent Bundle, this becomes 592.4 gems. The table below uses both to calculate the "Actual 'Value'".
1 Omni-Acorn = 27.2 gems 1 Epic Recruit Letter = 448 gems 1 All-Hero Recruit Letter = 270 gems
1 Rate-Up Recruit Letter = 300 gems (from banner)
1 Dolly Ticket = ~0.956 gems (258/270) (calculated using the undiscounted dolly ticket cost of faction acorns and the discounted gem cost of faction acorns) 60 A-Level Hero Soulstones = ~561.87 gems 60 A-Level Hero Soulstones = 4506.4 gems
Limited Bundles
Of the 17 bundles analyzed (I did not analyze the bundle that included Hero Essence/Purple dust because I could not find a good, objective benchmark), 9 of the 17 bundles are less valuable than what the game purports them to be. Even where I use the higher benchmark for the Stargazer Orb, the two Stargazer Orb bundles also fall under the stated "value."

Bundle Name	Actual DC Worth	Stated "Value"	Actual "Value"
A-Level Soulstone Bundle	527.44	650%	621%
Exclusive Equipment Bundle I	2110	650%	659%
S-Level Soulstone Bundle	3193.2	650%	614%
Stargaze Station Bundle	5820 (7244)	650%	520% (647%)
Hero Recruitment Bundle II	6320	650%	645%
Exclusive Equipment Bundle II	9850	650%	657%
Hero Recruitment Bundle	10875	650%	659%
Recruitment & Acorn Bundle	19220	650%	641%
Rate Up Recruit Bundle I	7839	650%	627%
Rate Up Recruit Bundle II	15833	650%	635%
Rate Up Recruit Bundle III	8125	650%	650%
Ruins Stone Bundle	2825	500%	514%
Omni-Acorn Bundle	3010	500%	519%
All-Hero Recruitment Bundle	5250	500%	500%
Epic-Recruitment Bundle	7470	500%	498%
Dazzling Stone Bundle	9260	500%	514%
Stargaze Station Bundle	11625 (14830)	500%	387.5% (494%)

Hi all! I currently work for a construction company as the Human Resources Manager and have been in my role for 7 months. We’re a small company, but growing (45 employees total). I have not been here long, but during my tenure here I’ve accomplished alot for the company and the owners, and have completed multiple projects/ helped them transition during a difficult time of company ownership changes and payroll related issues. As of a month ago, I sat with the owners and explained to them that I will be moving four hours away to be closer to family, as I am currently five months pregnant, and want to have support from family. I told them I was pregnant at four weeks, so this was no shocker to them, as I’ve told them I have no relatives near me currently.
As we sat and spoke, I explained this was not me giving notice, but rather me seeking to potentially work from home full time- as my job can be completed full time from home. I explained my move date of 6/21 and that my final day in office would be 6/14. (A two month ahead notice) Completely transparent on my end. My boss laughed, and said “you know we are moving away from that”. Meaning, work from home positions. He wants everyone in house, so he can micromanage, look at the back of people’s heads, and have his ego stroked. I’ve got him figured out. Anywho- the owners stated that although this isn’t what they’d prefer, that they would consider several things and ensure to touch base with me again. The things they considered were: letting me work from home until my due date- which is September 23, and also them networking with some people they know in the area to tell them about me for future reference.
Here’s where I’m conflicted- yesterday I see the posting for my job online. It was posted a week ago yesterday and I had just found out. Meanwhile, we never spoke and they never followed up with me like they said they would regarding what their plans were with me. I feel like it’s sort of them giving me the middle finger, especially considering if they don’t plan on at least keeping me part time until my due date I need to know , as I need to find work in my new city in the interim. This ain’t the first issue of lack of communication, and I’ve actually been under the impression that the owners enjoy leaving staff in the dark, and wondering. There’s zero transparency , and as HR I tried initially to change that. I quickly realized that would not be happening , the culture has already been ingrained and unfortunately tarnished . Decided not to waste my time. I could give examples but don’t feel like typing out the stories .
I know I should go to the source - them. And discuss, but I do not trust them to give me the clarity, respect, and honesty I deserve . I expect to be frustrated and more confused . 😕
I know either way I gotta look for work to cover my own ass, but fuck. Who’s gonna hire a five month pregnant lady just for me to take leave once baby is here ? Not my companies problem, I’m just offended and I’ll be damned if they ask me to train this person just to tell me to kick rocks 6/14.
Thoughts?

The lotus leaf is listed as the greatest cleaning agent known to mankind in wikis and was the religious symbol of countless religions. when dirt is wet and becomes sticky mud it dries caked on and stuck and traps or allows for other air or splashes or spills to sort of stick. nanotech is so much smaller its like a big warehouse of crates having dust settle between them and by wiping and buffing and polishing around you remove some of the dirt hopefully most of it and get it underneath it will go right through and under about anything, got a tarpaulin or umm curtains over the window spray the curtains and unseen fine nanotech SHINES the window beautiful perfect coatings. the thin film is like nonstick frypan stuff but not the teflon stuff its safe diamonds arent teflon so the moisture and dirt wont stick as much and easily clean off or sorta slide down? nanotech like INKS and alcohol dyes (food coloring) or other paint pigment powders and !SOME! clearcoat polishes over a certain hardness rating which are safe for homes as under sapphire 9H or 10H it might be some sort of waste product cheap being sold as something like SCOTCH GUARD which may or may not have those long lasting microplastics which could be tiny serrated or jagged. If something is 9H or 10H diamond or sapphire hardness the few enamels or epoxys that bond that strong are small enough and dense that their structure is so tiny it slips through and under inside things and can reinforce them but doesnt damage round cells in organisms. the same way glass cleaner must be diluted and used everywhere as glass is porous and prehistoric volcanic obsidian glass walking spiders can walk up glass with special microhooks in their feet for the holes in glass look a bit like a golf ball dimples everywhere with tiny hole looks like hair lines through it like imagine those office ceiling panels with the holes in white particle board. So glass cleaner cleans out the gunk or else your windows will have a brownness you struggle to clean out of the glass without a deep penetrating cleaning agent that comes out looking a bit like brown river water thats discolored from the porous rocks in the water having umm tiny microorganisms yep rivers of brown. So a tiny drop of glass cleaner or a couple drops in a spray bottle or a bucket of water and maybe some one or two drops hydrophobic glass coating or quickpaint coat and a tiny drop or two or a single spray of PLASTIC AND LEATHER RESTORER
with these drops of stuff in water in a spray bottle or bucket you maybe wanna find something with a high % percentage of surfactants on the back of the detergent/soap bottle to wipe out germs and uhh its the cleaning component in all bubbling detergents the sort of science and cleaning and germ killing powers of it. Some floor cleaners made for timber floors that might be a little streaky and say like a polish or cure or something that maybe gives timber a little bit of a darker look when used regularly and appears subtly more expensive looking like hardwood but isnt carbonizing its a type of cellular structure bonding that reinforces not prehistoric torture the wood into looking blowtorched carbon stuff chemicals its a cleaning product disenfectant that protects and polishes but it needs some sprays of water then a spray or a few drops then buff it in and then dust mop it dry as its got some mild ANTISTATIC which helps lift up dust.. i found one that cleans like magic at my asian supermarkets but im not recommending specific brands over the other its the science of cleaning. then maybe put in a couple drops or up to a teaspoon of 10H hardness and like spray your laundry on the line or your carpet or whatever.. i do everything.. some products not 9H or greater will use some unsafe superglues which ignite cotton fabrics into flames or other things.. now house construction products like liquid nails brown glue for holding timber together might have a clear version called liquid glass that might be for window glazing or whatever i hadnt checked if its safe to use on fabrics and other surfaces the POINT of it is the NAME might say liquid glass but its maybe not silicon dioxide that the florist uses to keep their plants fresh for 2 weeks longer liquid glass as in THAT liquid glass like on your phones nanotech liquid screen protector you apply several coats of one each day then reapply every 8 months the cheap stuff.. some of the auto ones for cars can last 9 or 10 years. i found lots of bargain store looking products of sites like aliexpress or maybe amazon with brands like glassxkare or fantastic XML and adams polishes for tiny vials of 50ml or less of 10H hardness affordable or fantastic XML for like a big 500ML 9H hardness spray bottle that when sprayed into a spray bottle of water and glass cleaner and a drop of hydrophobic coating and plastic and leather restorer and a tiny drop of timber floor polish cleaner that may or may not make it a tiny bit streaky or splotchy the hydrophobic coatings may also be too hydrophobic you can tell if your spray bottle wont suck up water because the water cant enter the tube but if you spray a couple spray bottles of such tiny drops the nozzle will clog and not spray anymore.. nanocoatings can be tricky i dunno what to do. if its scratch protect films make it streaky and require buffing power tools and youre not loud big tools like me maybe aim it at carpets and couches rather than windows and do those without the floor polish. I've found no sort of uhh possible forseeable reasons for any health issues and my stuff looks and FEELS amazingly better, i think bathroom toilets or tiles or shower and tap fixtures or.. walls and floors and furniture and clothes.. i think id only not try spraying my drinking cups and cutlery but i honestly think i might need to drink the stuff its THAT GOOD. my cats LOVE IT! its kinda scary awesome.. i tried brands of plastic and leather restorer and quick paint coat and hydrophobic glass coating from HGKJ black and green labels. I couldnt tell you how safe it is, i just struggled as im a disability pensioner and saw our really old house falling apart and this damn near reversed a few decades off it and brand new snow clothing and jackets and throw rugs i bought felt BETTER THAN NEW i mean ridiculously better than new. ancient poisons used to clean HALF as good and were feared for being too good and too cheap. But diamonds and liquid diamond are naturally occuring hot springs reactions and the reason monkeys stay in there. its literally pretty much good for all life.
(plastic and leather restorer see leather deep conditioner but better and sorta similar to glass cleaner but a sort of UV protect oil and reinforce that adds the rich deep black color back to PU leathers and those vinyl anime girl figures yellowing from the sunlight and UV will becomes their original selves again or old yellowy car headlight covers get fixed up but so do most paints and timbers and other things. but you wanna seal it in with a nano coating when cleaning it out plastic and leather restorer is used in plastic manufacture and when you peel those clear plastic film stickers off shiny new products they help prevent its slow gradual evapouration and why they look so nice and black and arent just to prevent scratches. several days later plastic and leather restorers super shiny rich deep 'wet hair look for your black pleather chair' will seem to have worn off but its UV protect and other things will still be there and some polishes waxes or coatings can help keep it and its colors and UV protect there a bit longer well the look the restorer itself keeps it like how it was quite a while years? till it goes yellowy or faded again.)
So when we look at the water beading on lotus/lily pad leaves and things, ancient people used saps and old polishes and obsidian blades arrowheads since dinosaurs era. which with 200 times sharper than steel knives carbon nanotech its super dangerous deadly and was mostly all used up and we swapped it all out for modern glasses and glazing and safety glass so we dont slice our selves into piles of body parts on invisible pieces. Since the days of ink and whetstone nanotech advanced impossibly high particularly in volcanic hot springs countrys with samurai swords and caligraphy brush ink. Trying to find the scientifically safest and best possible cleaning products super affordably that might be useful for washing clothes, cars, metals plastics and other things.. are strangely not at the home hardware stores.. you see synthetic diamonds been on the gem market for centuries but too expensive to produce till modern different approaches with lasers and different gas precipitation with super high electricity concentrated over weeks or months or special electrolosys solutions will slowly layer and create diamonds but the diamond solution precipitated that grouped to each other or doesnt perfectly slot into the sort of tetris like bonds of the outer layers of the diamond a bit like diamond growth needs spaghetti O's and we're raining alphabet soup at it till with a bout 30% of the letters having a good chance of sticking. every few hours the solution of sublimation precipitate is swapped out creating a couple oven trays of 'liquid diamond solution' 10H hardness brightness and shines up glass with a thin film of diamond giving it moisture modest water resist we can use graphene to increase water resist and 10H+ hardness and apply hydrophobic coatings.. So who makes lots of these liquid finishes and what are they used for? Most are produced by a car race track owner who insists they protect their cars before taking them out onto the track or a speck of dirt or sand might scratch up the paint. But if i wanted to like power pressure washer spray it up onto my roof tiles and thin out some of that lichen and make them more uhh watertight leaks arent a concern but it might prevent a terrible future. anybody know why its not already a thing and there isnt countless guides on the ideal ratios and stuff? i mean its about as expensive as laundry detergent concentrate and used to be in most of those still is in some developed countries.. its what makes american movie sets look so umm bright and shiny and polished and awesome and makes mansions look like mansions or wealthy look and feel and its where LUXURY COMES FROM. is my cheap poor persons attempt at cleaning my own home not good? even if its mildly bad i think i'd use it forever. ESPECIALLY on things like 100% bamboo bed sheets i bought cheap ones from an australian online retailer and a few coatings of sprays and they felt and looked so dang shiny and awesome. Some bottles of the stuff claim 6 drops coats the car but remember many are diluted or not full strength or dont last long as advertised or a big bottle 500ML might be 3months to a year.. rather than tiny medicine bottle 50ml or 30ml sized 3-5 years most i guess, you need to keep applying a coat very often but having it not be streaky or buffing it in is tough so i maybe shaved years off its coating and thinned it out and just apply a bunch of coats as often product claims 9H its only a tiny % the whole spray bottle and needs many many applications to approach that but it is POSSIBLE theoretically. remember all glass cleaner is blue colored so when you dilute it with water you shouldnt have it fully color the water too much or its TOO STRONG. 80s people cleaned 80s glazing which maybe radium or lead tincture as radiation blocking films were often lead or radiation lined literally as a radiation shield was a.. film of radiation so it lasted years and needed double or triple glazing for expensive high rise buildings and cleaning heaps of smoky 80s glass dredged out horror mud floods of brown sludge that got them accused of dirtying things, though 80s squeegee thingys are really bad unless you reverse them and press down on a microfibre cloth with them for good even pressuer and a nice streak free clean using the back black rubber blade part to make a thin line of glass cleaning cloth good contact i previously saw reverse squeegee you mount cleaning cloths into specifically but searching i cant find to buy it when i tested it out at home with a squeegee that doesnt clip in like that. are there special tools you guys use? whats the secret? also the purple ceramic graphene ones seem awesome but maybe arent quite close to 9H either.. the bright shine of 10H or 10H+ on tiles and glass.. when apply hydrophobic it looks like zero application of anything somehow its gone for days. does anyone have a more ideal ratios specific or specific active ingredient amounts by weight or dilute with stuff that isnt water to help it keep its years of coating? does using a power washer make it not last? or last longer? or apply streaky splotchy? if its splotchy would more coats over weeks get it all consistent?
the liquid diamond stuff is in many countrys water or whatever.. but uhh concerns about silicosis maybe arent a thing at all if you cough it feels like its cleaning your lungs not harming them. Silicosis happens when criminal retards enter a sandblasting sealed room containment to steal the literally raw materials from factories or whatever or they use water cutting and sand blasting and CNC machines and sharpening blades constantly without sealed enclosure vacuum air scrubber filters. thats what wrecks those benchtop workers also they maybe mixing or breathing wrong epoxys and resins or dont seal them with the correct sealants and polishes and finishes.

Long story short I got pulled over for expired license and registration which were a month and few days overdue, which I did not realize (yes I know it's NOT an excuse, I f'ed up, downvote me, etc.). It was a genuine oversight and I did tell the cop that and that I never received the renewal letter (which he noted), but that I know it's not an excuse and that I should've been diligent regardless, etc. When he gave me my tickets (which add up to $970 and 4 demerits ugh) he told me he wouldn't tow my car and advised me to find the nearest insurance place, and that my best option would be to plead guilty with explanation.
Anyways I was able to get my license and registration renewed that same day, made reminders on my phone, and I do plan on pleading guilty with explanation. My question is, should I represent myself or hire Radar Rodney to do it? Based on his reviews and what I've seen on this sub, he seems reliable, but I've also seen some people say that you can still get the same result or better if you just do it yourself- plus you wouldn't owe anyone more money.
For context this is my first offence of any kind and my DSR is +9. I know I was stupid and made a COLOSSAL ass mistake, but I'm stressing out a lot about this and would appreciate the advice. I feel like I'm really screwed.

Why is it just acceptable and expected to not hear back from jobs you apply for, or even worse actually interview for? I’m not saying you need to give me the job, but some sort of response, whether positive or negative, I feel should be the base minimum expectation right? I took the time out to apply, write a cover letter, interview, etc, then you just get left hanging. Is this common, or just a me thing?

My partner and I (unmarried) are separating. We are jointly named on the mortgage and deeds for a house we purchased 7 years ago.
When we purchased the house, my partner contributed a small deposit and briefly contributed 50% towards the mortgage for approximately 6 months until she left work to become a full time mother. Since then, I have covered all mortgage payments (actually all outgoings).
Now we are separating, I wish to sell the house but my partner does not. Having no money herself, she wants me to continue to pay for the house until she is able to support herself financially (how she intends to do this is unknown)
We have 2 children who would remain with their mother.
1) What are the chances of being able to force the sale, taking into account the children and her lack of contribution to the mortgage in our time there?
2) Two, even if I agreed to her request to support until she is financially more stable, surely she would then need to "buy out" my share of the equity once my name is removed from the mortgage/deeds?
Property is in Wales
Thank you!

I’m from Ontario and I signed to do business with this company, and it was to be a franchisee and run a window cleaning business. To do this business, I had to pay $1500 + tax to the franchisor to start. Prior to signing I asked whether I would need to use ladders, which I was told multiple times that I wouldn’t need to and I was led to believe that the scope of services were only window cleaning… Turns out, after signing, they told me that “ladders are unavoidable” and that they also do gutter and siding cleaning. I never would have signed or paid if I knew beforehand that I would need to use ladders or do other services. The contract also clearly states that “no personnels are permitted to use ladders” and among the lines of how the scope of services are only for window cleaning.
After constantly being told that I would have to use ladders, I decided to leave as I did not want to at all. Finally, on the leaving call, they tried to get me to stay saying that I can hire other people to use ladders and that i can clean gutters and sidings without ladders (lies). I knew even if I hired people to use ladders, the contract still states that no one is permitted and that gutters were not something I initially agreed on.
After leaving, I demanded the initial $1500 + tax and a fee of $60 + tax (to register the business) back as Company A breached my contract and deceived me..They also tried charging me $175 + tax for 7 Facebook customers that were interested in a free consultation… So I demanded for that fee to be cancelled to due to their breach.
After 2 weeks of my demand being sent, they demanded ME to pay them an extra $1500 + tax for “liquidated damages” in response to my initial demand (this was in the contract that they could), yet when I asked for an itemized bill, they refused. I also have another friend who left at the same time and they did not file them for “liquidated damages”. This just seems like a penality and retaliatory action against my initial demand. Keep in mind, the contract also states that any jobs i have sold will be taken back for them to deal with and I would get no compensation for it.. so really they could’ve made money from me leaving.
I now want to bring this matter to small claims and I was wondering if I would have good grounds to argue for this?
Note: - The contract was signed on Nov 30th and the old one said that if I resigned before May 1st, liquidated damages were not enforceable. However, after making me register officially for the business on Feb 11th, they made me sign a revised contract a few days and the only section that changed were regarding termination by choice and that liquidated damages can be applied at any given time. I left on April 17th… - In an email in response to my demands, they basically admitted to telling me to use ladders, but that letter is under No Prejudice Save As to Cost so I’m wondering if there is any way I can use it against them? - They claimed that because of a severability clause, even if they breached, I would still have to pay? But I’m not sure if this can apply to such a fundamental breach. - They also told me to quit my job to do this and I (stupidly) did. - This company went (WITHOUT PERMISSION) into university classes to present their business to vulnerable students like me and encourage them to sign up…
Thanks!