I'm well aware this argument is often misused by bigots as a dog whistle. I tried to be as clear as possible that I am an ally and a member of the LGBTQIA+ community myself.
Under a recent hot comic on comics, I said:

I'm bi and 100% an ally to trans people.
Separately, I'm against any unfair advantage in sports. Whether that's steroids, an inability to create lactic acid, that gene that makes your muscles denser and easier to form, or having gone through male puberty and later participating in women's sports.
But to clarify, I would say this only applies to sports that are primarily about physical strength rather than skill. Any kind of race, weightlifting, and the like. Sports where you are not interacting with the opponent.
I ran cross country. The boys and girls who were at a similar level did the exact same training. But the boys always had faster times. Yeah, the top girls will beat most boys, but we're talking about the winners. And in that regard the fastest men's mile in the world beats the fastest women's by 24 seconds. It's simply not fair to cis women.
The argument you posed here is a nonsense one. That people with an unfair advantage may not be number one right away doesn't mean their advantage was meaningless. Barry Bonds didn't automatically have the home run record once he started steroids.

Which still has 428 upvotes, on a sub where it absolutely would have been downvoted if the majority opinion was that I were being bigoted.
And yet, the mods banned me for it. I tried to explain in the mod mail that I didn't break their rules, and they responded with, "except for the one about bigotry," and a mute. Nevermind that it clearly didn't, otherwise they would have gotten my account totally banned since it's a site-wide rule, but when I could respond, I did:

To be clear, my comment was not hateful. I even clarified as much to start. I am entirely in support of trans people's identities and rights. What I was basing my stance on was information I gathered from google scholar.
https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0 %2C5&q=trans+muscle strength&btnG=&oq= trans+muscle+
https://bjsm.bmj.com/content/55/15/865/
https://academic.oup.com/jcem/article/105/3/e805 /5651219
Which, albeit limited, does show that MtF retain a level of muscle strength higher than cis woman, though lower than before they started HRT. I was having productive discussions in the replies, and was entirely open to changing my stance if presented with conflicting data.

To which the mod only responded:

Oh great, you're doubling down on your fascist hatespeech in my modmail.
Here is the only reason people are attacking trans sports players: Fascism.
There is no other reason. This is not up for debate

So I'm just wondering, AITAH here?

More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
[First] - [Prev] - [Next]

with the PC launch and multiple posts of people asking for advice, figured I'd try to give some general gameplay tips
Ghost Weapons
kunai-will instantly break the defense of and stun three enemies at base level, allowing you to directly attack their health, if used on enemy with no stagger damage remaining (as well as dogs) it will do damage to their health, from my observation about half of their health but this may vary based on difficulty level and progress through game/armor and charm loadout
sticky bomb-instantly knocks down and does damage to one enemy, knocks down and does less damage to enemies in proximity of sticked enemy (basically sticky grenade from halo that doesn't require aiming)
way of the flame-temporary sword effect, inflicts burning to enemies hit and ignores stagger health while active, directly attacking melee health this ghost weapon is earned in a mythic tale mission if you are avoiding spoilers
smoke bomb-instant staggers all enemies in radius of Jin, allowing you to assassinate or chain assassinate multiple enemies (do not sleep on the smoke bombs, took until my fourth playthrough to start using them and they're incredibly useful in an emergency)
every ghost weapon has at least one charm that will give it additional bonuses (for example, one charm gives you five kunai instead of three per throw) so don't ignore shrines
Stances- each stance does increased stagger damage to a specific enemy type and will do base stagger damage if you're not in the right stance (stone=sword, water=shield, Wind=spear, Moon=heavy)but light attacks are the same strength no matter the stance and melee damage stays the same no matter the enemy type and if you time your strikes properly after an enemy swings at you, you can completely ignore stagger damage, even if you missed the perfect dodge/parry window
damage/defense scale
GoT doesn't give direct numbers for it's defense stats, but the rankings of effectiveness of a stat goes
Minor
Major
Massive
Colossal
more general tips
I'd recommend doing the mythic tales as soon as you find them, as they always give a good bonus for completing them
focus more on stagger damage versus melee damage when given the choice between the two, especially on higher difficulties and in duels
if you're going for 100% do it your first run, because when you start a new game+ profile it resets all of your materials and undiscovered locations, so you'll need to do them all again for the achievement
when you're nearing the endgame and want to 100% undiscovered stuff, the guiding winds will show up on the map they're just hard to see, so teleport around until the guiding wind stops abruptly and you've found your location
some of this stuff might seem obvious to more experienced players but most of this I've had to explain to people before the PC release so figured it could be helpful for new players to know, hope you enjoy GoT as much as I have!

I guess this is my attempt to reflect and vent.
Backstory we were together for over 2yrs in a long-distance relationship (2.5hr drive)
I messed up big with my FP.. Couple weekends ago we made plans and got ourselves an airbnb to spend time together and connect. Day comes and I ended up coming down with a cough, which in result made me extra tired (my sleeping too much on our time together has been a sore spot). Anyways everything we were doing I ended up passing out during; laying in a hammock, relaxing on the bed watching tv, back rubs, most of the first day I slept through. Which she brought up saying it makes her sad - I did not handle this well and ultimately things went downhill and I said "if your feelings are you're sad bc I'm tired then thats stupid". She ended up spending an hour outside away from me while I continued to stew in bed.. she came back eventually and had a pillow between us so I didnt attempt to cuddle or anything and just went to bed. Woke up to her crying and telling me "i want to go home", so I started packing up my things 🙃 basically after 2hrs arguing I left. Ran away. When we still had 2days left on the airbnb.
She seemingly forgave me for this as I hadnt left like that before, and given that I promised not to do it again. So I offered to come over the following weekend to make up for the bad one. Things went well the first day.. but the sexond day when night time came and I asked "if (M) would mind that I stole one of his edibles to watch the northern lights" and she immediately got upset and asked why? (Context she doesnt like me smoking weed, but said edibles were fine). So i responded "Nevermind sorry I even asked then" and went to lay down. She was not accepting of this apology as it was said with a tone and now I was closed off. I apologized several more times, before getting upset we couldn't just move past this and asked that we talk about it in the morning. Nope, we had to talk about it then. So i was overwhelmed and started packing up my things to leave..again. I ended up staying til morning and woke up to a buncha gifts I gave her packed next to my things. When I saw her get up I told her "I dont want the stuff I gave you back, I dont give gifts just to take them back'. We ended up talking for FOUR HOURS before I finally called it quits when we both came to the conclusion that we dont know what resolve there is to fix this. So I started packing up to leave. She told me "if you leave again we're done". I responded "then I guess we're done." And made my exit..
We've still been talking bc she wants me to understand and help alleviate this frustration Ive caused.. but it feels like its best to just let her find someone better fitting. It just sucks.. i dont want to be this way. We're both unhappy with the outcome, but there is no fixing whats broken 💔 if you made it this far thank you! Kind words, words of wisdom, relating, feedback is all welcome 🙏
TLDR: I run away from conflict, left my girlfriend twice and now shes not coming back.

Happy, happy birthday, my love. Can you believe that we are are 40 now? It seems like such a milestone year to me, so I'm making it a point to cross off a few bucket list items. It would make me happy to know you're doing the same. You deserve to do something nice for yourself. I hope that this is your very best birthday and that your family is pampering you and giving you all the love you deserve.
Before you ask, yes, I am doing okay. The kids are all doing wonderfully, especially "G". She is thriving, and I am so proud of her. Soccer has started for "B" (sorry, I just couldn't bring myself to call it football 😆), and you know I think of you every time I watch him play. Work is going fantastically, and I'm very happy in my current role. My boss has asked me to take yet another assignment, but I think that I will politely decline this time. I'm exhausted of the constant grind and have been focusing my energy on personal aspirations aside from my career, for once.
The vase from the flowers that you sent me broke a few weeks ago, and I cried. I cried because I have one less reminder of you. I cried because that broken glass was a stark reminder of how broken our connection has become. And I cried in frustration at both my inability to find another who loves me and at the missed opportunity to see you in Chicago earlier this year. I plan to visit London in August, and as much as I tell myself the trip is for relaxation and gazing at art and architecture, we both know the real reason. There may be little hope of seeing you, but being in the same city will be comforting enough.
Are you doing okay, too? It drives me crazy when you disappear, and I can't inquire about the happenings in your life. I miss knowing even the mundane. How is your work? Have you made it to an Arsensal game or two this season? What books have you been reading? Have you taken any trips? What activities are the kids involved in these days? Will you even be in London in August or have you taken a new assignment elsewhere?
Anyway, I hope that you have been "all in" with your marriage and that things with "L" have improved. I pray that she is treating you well and making you happy. She is so lucky to have you. I also hope the kids, your mum, your sisters and their families are all doing well. But most importantly, I hope you are taking care of yourself. Please don't forget to do that. You can't take care of everyone else if you're not putting care into yourself. Lastly, never forget your worth and that you are loved beyond measure. I hope that we speak again soon.
ndinokuda uye ndakusuwa, K💗

This post is for all the intermediate students who couldn't study well enough for May 24 due to problems like procrastination, various addictions or distractions. Especially for those who had only 2 papers, but everyone can read definitely.
Guys, now is the time to change your habits. Don't wait for results to come and then change yourself. If we keep waiting for the right time, one more attempt will go by. You don't need to start rigorous studies right away. Start slow and pick it up from there. Put a time limit on your phone(other than studies of course).
GIVE UP ON THAT ADDICTION You know it's bad and it has already costed you an attempt or maybe more, and even outside your CA journey Find productive ways to keep yourself engaged instead of looking for that short term dopamine hike. Rest for a week maybe. Then start studying for 2-3 hours a day(if you have only 2-3 subjects left), have good sleep, but for the rest of the day, don't scroll on your phone, instead read a book, meditate. Then increase your study hours every week. By the time result comes you might be studying for 5-6 hours. Then you will have enough motivation to go for the September attempt and make it your last.
The only person who can change you, is you yourself. Nobody is coming to save us. Hardwork, consistency and dedication
I am also a fellow inter student. I have gone through the same things mentioned above. But I am willing to change myself. We are all sailing in the same boat but we will make it.
All the best to all of us!!!! 🙏🏻😊

So I've been playing the game for slightly more than a month AND I HAVE TO SAY jungler by far has been my most effective role, the sheer control you can have over the map and match is simply massive.
I usually have played Gideon mid or Zarus offlane but ever since jungling as Zarus i knew that i had a knack for it and my rank jumped to plat 3 in a short time and closing in onto diamond. BUT not all games are sunflowers and rainbows, here's some things i hated/loved while jungling:

• Ward, ward and ward: as jungle i keep wards up until i clear the first 6 camps (mostly to watch for invades) before switching to eagle totem to prepare for ganks, so when i (a jungler with no wards to place) see that my duo lane and offlane not warding fang and mini prime even when i ping it, it pains me.
  
• Spam pinging fangtooth: "HEY JUNGLER HERE RIGHT HERE THIS FANGTOOTH LETS KILL IT". i mean ok i know we need to kill it, but there is a time for that and it's not when their duo lane and jungler are roaming around it. I like to kill jungler or get a good gank in on their duo lane before killing fang (usually before the 10 minute mark), or when i know their jungler is at the offlane side.
  
• Mid my pookie bear: I LOVE when a mid knows that i am about to gank a lane after pinging it and starts rotating towards me.
  
• My support babies ily: when a support sees me approaching their lane for a gank and starts CCing their duo lane my heart warms up, OR when a Maulier drops in when me and their jungler are in a 1v1.
  
• Pushing lane without reading map: Never, ever push as Duo/offlane lane without having a grasp on where their jungler is, ESPECIALLY if you don't have wards up or a blink.
  
• Kallari: Well yeah just kallari... I HATE KALLARI, even though i win most games against one, it's still scary when clearing camps or backing out after a gank. It's so bad that it even forces me to keep wards to ward my jungle.
  
• Never gna give you up, never gna let you down ♫: I love counter ganking to save my teammates.
  
• Kicking me when i'm already down: this one hurts. Sometimes the enemy team's rotations are just better early game and they take advantage of me be being on other lanes and sometimes it's just not my game and i'm having a hard time keeping up with their jungler. Adding onto it my teamate/s would be flaming me sometimes for my mistakes and sometimes for their mistakes such as pushing lanes without reading map.
  
• Feeding: listen sometimes it's just not your game or you're just up against a counter and even with my help you can't win your lane... JUST DON'T FEED, play safe and we can turn it around in other lanes, if you keep giving the enemy kills you will feed them into oblivion.
  
• Mini prime: offlane please help me kill mini prime if i ping for it, ESPECIALLY if we just ganked and killed your offlane opponent.
  
• Greed: i suffer from, you suffer from it, we all suffer from it. I hate getting overly greedy and dying.
  
• Shmovment: the feeling of dancing around the enemy mid-gank and timing your abilities with perfect distancing is just *mwah* chef's kiss, it can let you gank even with low hp if you know what you are doing and it's especially good with Zarus CC and Dash.
  

i'll keep it at that to keep it short but yeah that's pretty much it.
Here's what i build for zarus:
Augmentation -> Berserker's axe -> citadel -> tectonic mallet -> mutilator
How to build it:
If you are against against 2 or more tanks (grux, riktor, crunch) start with Mutilator first then build the rest normally. if you are getting slapped by magic damage build tectonic before citadel. if you are playing against khaimera and greystone or any combination of self-healers, replace citadel with tainted blade.

*CONTAINS SWEARING*
This is gonna be a hefty and most likely triggering post for specific groups of people out there (meaning people who struggle with anger, people who don't want poltical content/opinions etc), so please stop reading and leave if you figure this is gonna be rough for you. This will (mainly) be about the conflict between Palestine and Israel. (and apparently a long one) No hate towards any specific groups of people, but I do have a lot of *frustration regarding behaviours*.
Before I start, I want you to remember some facts about me as you read;
I am autistic
I am heavily influenced by world peace, hate, racism and other unfair situations
I have incredibly high standards for myself that I strive to not break, including, but not limited to, being kind and respectful *always*, despite being in a bad mood, not liking someone, or disagreeing, especially political disagreements
I have always, and will always, stand against widespread hate, racism and other discrimination towards any specific religions, ethnicities, nationalities, cultures, etc.
I also want you to know that I named this throwaway accordingly.
So let's get this shitshow started then, shall we.
As the details of the conflict stands, it is beyond obvious to me that this is racism and, literally, a Holocaust. Not *the* Holocaust, but *a* Holocaust. Oxford Languages has the term defined as a destruction or slaughter on a mass scale, especially caused by fire or nuclear war . I'd say that's very much accurate. Proof to come.
Regardless, this situation has had me very pressed the last almost 8 months, as I know most other people have been too. Without getting too much into the conflict itself, I want to talk a little about what I've seen from the Jewish community.
This is where I advise anyone who struggles with anger especially to leave and try to keep your day positive. If you have a magical potion to stay stable after this, who am I to stop you...
Alright, onto the dreaded part. And yes, I am stalling.
I have never, and I truly mean *never* had any hateful thoughts or opinions about religions (other than Christianity but that's one for another time), and as we are all aware of, The Holocaust had massive effect on the world some 80 years ago. I have always seen Jews as victims due to this, but in recent times I've realised that a lot of them, too, see themselves as victims. The issue is that they aren't the victims right now. They (Israel) aren't defending themselves, they have nothing to defend themselves against. Israel is currently doing the exact same thing as Germany did to them, to Palestine. Sure, maybe at some point who knows when, Palestine *was* the land of Jews, but since then, multiple religions have been thriving together on that land, including Jews. They were never excluded. From what I've understood, there weren't any wars or conflicts going on within the country that didn't happen elsewhere. The issue began when in the late 1940's zionists brutally murdered families to steal their homes. I'm sure the situation was so much more complex than that, but in a nutshell that is basically it. The fact that everyone today have been so desensitized from the travesties happening around the world is depressing and hope-killing. I truly am well on the way to giving up, and at this point in time I'm so angry all the time due to the Middle East's situation.
So a few weeks ago, probably closing in on months at this point, I randomly got a notification from reddit about someone posting on /Jewish. They didn't say anything explicit, so I pressed the notification and I was met with the worst victimization and ignorance I've ever seen. I truly believed most jews would see this for what it is, and not let some racist maniac spoon-feed them propaganda and hate, but I was brutally and humbly proven wrong. They were mocking proPAL parades, hating on news anchors and civilians alike calling this a genocide, insisting that Israel has no other choice, saying "casualties happens in war", convincing each other that zionism is a good thing, and feeling sorry for themselves when friends and families cut contact because they said they supported Israel and saw this as the only solution. Some might have been genuine problems, idk, but for the most part, that subreddit seems to only be about hating the rest of the world because their great grandparents were killed. I know I sound like a complete asshole, but the world isn't antisemetic anymore - they are actively looking for it and then using that one person telling them to stop feeling so sorry for themselves as proof that everybody in the world wants to throw them back in gas chambers.
I commented on my personal once where I mentioned that judaism and zionism are two separate things and got downvoted to oblivion. Someone replied saying that my comment was very much exactly what they too feel, but I got downvoted *simply because* I referred to them as separate entities. That is another criticism they've recieved lately; the pure idea of zionism is on the complete opposite side from what Judaism stands for. I've seen so many of the members there calling Jews protesting against Israel "self-hating" and traitors.
I've also made so many replies that I never sent because I know for a fact they would do anything in their power to ban me from ever using reddit again, and I wouldn't be surprised if I got doxxed and harrassed IRL from it. I saved them all, though. I found that it was kind of therapeutic to get it out, but it still bugs me that I never found a way to say it to them. I once also made a post about my rage for their behaviour connected to this genocide, but I thankfully stopped myself before I posted it. I'm so enraged by their sheer ignorance and hypocritical behaviour, all the while Gaza is still being eradicated and slaughtered, war crimes happening day in-day out, inhumane atrocities by the IOF being posted and hailed, and they have the audacity to say that they are the victims? That Israel has no other choice but martyring tens of thousands of CHILDREN? Starving the entire Gaza Strip, segregating West Bank, literally teaching their young in school to hate and attack arabs? That last one might not be true as I don't speak Hebrew or Arabic, so anyone could've just made up the translation, but I still feel it's worth mentioning in case it actually *is* real.
My point is that the guts they have to claim to be so moral, yet still be so unfaced from what's happening in Gaza is beside me. Sure, for those living near the Gaza wall, I'm positive that hearing bombs and screams were traumatizing as fuck, but to then leave for work the next day and claim that "shit happens"? It's insane! It's inhumane. They can leave whenever they like, children can play football (soccer) in the streets and not having to worry about shit, hotels and restaurants with 5-star ratings thriving, plants and flowers still blooming, absolutely no threats on a daily basis. The fact that people are still calling this a war, something necessary, is beyond devastating to me. There are millions still siding with zionism, claiming there's nothing wrong with the belief that you have an innate right to some dirt simply because your holy book says that thousands of years ago, your religion lived there, and simply because of that religious fact you are rightfully owed thousands of young lives, the death of an entire country with its own culture, just to feed the irrational religious political system? How in God's name has that ever, *IS* that still okay? If Muslims were the ones saying that shit, they would've been completely destroyed by now, today's generation wouldn't know what the fuck Islam was. They are still being slaughtered though, because they're saying it's *not* okay. How is that not racist again?
My brother and I got into a heated argument a few days ago about this. I am very much *for* Palestine to have human rights and to own their own land - he is very much *against* "ugly blackies" having any rights because they're *not* human. Boi when I tell you I got so angry I started crying. And the worst part about that fight? He claims that Jews aren't any better, however they still deserve to defend themselves against children running on the beach. "But Hamas-" is so over-used and outdated by now, it just proves that he doesn't follow up on statistics and evidence. Even if there only were one-sided news (from Gaza), the fact that the ICJ ruled Israel's actions a genocide and war crimes still proves everything he claims to be "n*****'s propaganda". And the fact that he so underminds my autism and *need* for factual evidence before discussing it also goes to show that he genuinely does not care about anything other than the black "terrorists" being eradicated. I said "So you're not just a racist, you're just plain racist?" he just scoffed and looked at me as if I just said the most nonsensical bullshit gibberish ever, practically saying "I'm not gonna say anything, but it really took you that long to realise?" Either that, or he actually didn't comprehend the words coming out of my mouth, like it was a foreign language or something. Because he genuinely does not have a single reason to be racist.
He can't even blame suicide attacks because 1) not all are carried by muslims, and 2) between 1981-2015 around 45,000 were killed by suicide attacks worldwide, where in 2019 the total death toll was only 1,699 more than amount of attacks; whereas in Gaza, between Oct 7 to present there are about 34,000 confirmed palestinian deaths, and assumed around 42,000 with unconfirmed deaths. If, in 36 years, "muslim terrorism" killed about the same amount as Israel has in almost 8 months, how on earth are Arabs the terrorists?
And I've also seen the argument that 30,000 is nothing compared to the total population in Gaza, as if that makes it okay. I will, again, make example of The Holocaust. When 30,000 Jews were martyred, people were already catching on, and this was without the technology we have today.
How have we been allowing this to happen to Palestinians *with* our technology today? Why haven't people been doing more; striking our jobs, cummute chauffeurs striking, proper permanent boycotts, more coverage from news anchors and private people alike? Even if it is to officially reclaim your love for white supremacy, you're still talking about it. Why are people still not reading up on this? Why does millions still not know that this *didn't* begin on October 7th? And why are there still those who claim that the past doesn't matter today? I have so many questions, and if I do get an answer I will only end up with more questions. How hasn't the world stopped over this? Why are people so okay knowing that there are children being intentionally murdered every single day? How can you go to work and talk about Dave's new tie? Or your 6 year old's birthday party with 15 other 6 year olds? Hasn't it crossed your mind that if the roles were reversed, your precious princess would be the one burried under tons of rubble, dying slowly while simontaniously starving, dehydrating, suffocating and crushing, and *knowing* that absolutely no one cares because you're [skin color] and it's normal for your kids to be horrendously massacred? "Oh but the Taliban-ISIS-Al Qaeda" OKAY so what are you gonna do to help save innocent lives and suffering??? How are you gonna contribute to STOP these organizations that have manipulated and murdered to rule their country and are intentionally making the citicens miserable? Are you even aware that your own govurnment is essentially the same fucking thing, just disguised as a well dressed, polite gentleman? Aren't you sick of all those ads on TV showing brown children with flies in their eyes? Or your mama telling you to think about the starving children in Africa? Because I am.
I am so sick and tired of how inhumane humans have come to be. You don't see animals (and I'm trying my best to not mention how humans *are* animals, guess I failed) intentionally kill another animal simply because they're that animal. They kill prey; polar bears kill seals, seals kill penguins, penguins kill fish, fish kill amoebas, and you can get to that result from absolutely everything. What you don't find as a natural event is a golden, brown mane lion attack and kill an albino lion simply because it's albino. You don't see a school of fish swim away from one with two heads, because "*omg Jared is such a freak with his two heads*." So why the FUCK DID WE START DOING THAT? Where did this hunger for power come from? You *will* see a female lion tell the king that enough is enough, and he *will* accept that. I could go on and on for DAYS if I got the chance, but I don't wanna get too off topic here.
I've started a list of all the universally illegal shit Israel has done, and once I'm satisfied with it, I'll make one comparing Israel to Palestine, and then Arabs/Muslims as a whole. I can guarantee that I will still hear "on-sided sources" still, or "You can't trust Wikipedia!" Have you ever tried to edit or create an article on Wikipedia? I have, and I had to confirm that I had a degree or a current valid work ID to prove that I was elgible to speak on the topic. I tried to make a site for myself... Sure, there are more trustworthy sites, but even in a discussion about wether or not being trans is a mental illness, where I quoted and linked all of the most well known official sources like WHO, I was still slapped with "but this shady ass article from a random Deutch website that explicitly says everything I've said, yet still isn't actually saying the same thing because I misquoted and mixed the words to form my own sentence says that it is" when they literally linked a website called "disabled world". I will say though, I agree with that name. Today's world is so non-funtional for neurotypical, hetero, white MEN, it's no fucking wonder everyone else are classified as disabled or whatever. Also, on that disabled topic, if you've made it this far, please don't say "differently abled". A quote unquote quote (heh geddit? cuz it's rephrased and I don't have the book near me rn to directly quote) from Devon Price's "Unmasking Autism" that I really like: "You wouldn't say "a person with Asianness", you'd say "an Asian person"." We are disabled because today's world isn't made for us, and for the most part isn't even accomodated or accessible to us. We are different, yeah, but literally everyone is. We just got that term because we can't do the same things as you (assuming you're neurotypical) without aid. We are able, just not like you. Of course, if an autistic person tells you they prefer "person with autism", listen to them! But most of us embrace it as a part of us because we can't just get rid of it. Autism is what make me me, I wouldn't be me without my autism, so I *am* autistic, for better or for worse. :)
I find it kinda ironic that I started this as a venting about a lot of Jews' hypocritical behaviour, and now ending up on autism. Yaknow, cuz Dr. Asperger during WW2 experimented and tortured autistic people, and found out that some where more alike him than others, which then coined the term Aspergers for the Autistic Community.
Anywho, I feel better now, so thanks for letting me vent a little (a lot). I want to finish off by restating my intro; I have not, and will not tolerate any hate, racism or discrimination towards any religion, ethnicity, nationality, culture etc. This post is not intended as a rant about how aweful jews are, because they're not. I just wanted to air some frustration over their behaviour regarding I/P genocide. This is also not about *all* Jews, but that's the same discussion as "not all men" so I'll leave it at that.
I will delete this account in a week, so if you have any questions, be fast ig. If you find I've mis-phrased, used irrationally insensitive wording or any other complaints that calls for a repost, I will fix it and post an updated version. My DMs will also be available if that should be of interest, but I will not be responding to hate or personal attacks for my opinions. If the issue is my wording, again, tell me and I'll fix it.
At this point I've written so much that I don't remember if I found anything myself that I figured was worth fixing, and I've proof read it so many times that my eyes are crossing and giving me a headache lol
Gosh I'm scared of posting this. I don't want anyone to read this and think I support what A. H. did in 1940 cuz I cannot begin to describe my hatred for that man

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

Hey my fellow spicy brain family,
Just sharing a bit of my journey (32M) and I’ll continue to update my post as I travel through this, as for me having resources like reddit to read and be open minded about medication and possibly being able to see what’s a ‘side effect’ or a benefit from meds has been helpful.
02/23 : Diagnosis
Initial dose Ritalin 10mg twice a day AM/PM (I think initially was 5mg for a few days then 10mg)

• I kept asking my GP and others I knew about what I was to notice, however I think I had some kind of ‘expectation’ that made me angry cause I ‘wasn’t getting it’ (or possibly underdosed) I remember the nurse saying when doing my ECG “you’ll know when it’s right” which only further fueled my frustration.

03/2023 : Increased to 20mg twice daily

• was getting tension headaches and jitters in afternoon (informed my psych at my next appt) however after doing some studying of my circumstances and situation of late, I have concluded that I was getting these ‘side effects’ as a rebound effect as my doses were too far apart (rollercoaster peak/drop/peak/drop)

04/2023 : switched to Vyvanse 30mg

• immediately it was ‘go time’ (possibly euphoria) I was so motivated to do literally everything right that moment (after all I am on an amphetamine) I was focused on my business and growing it, back end work, processes etc and quit gaming/porn (as these had a pretty tight hold on me), addressed issues with my parents, and workplace at the time which ended out better for me. (NC with parents, and moved workplace)

05/2023 : upped Vyvanse to 40mg

• I had no issues with the 30mg as it seemed to be great, but psych upped anyway (I didn’t question because maybe he knew something I didn’t)

Fast forward 6-9months, I’d sold my property in Brisbane, moved rural with family for better QOL for the kids, kept questioning my decisions on whether they were good or not, and huge amounts of anxiety/dread/worry/fear in there, not to mention a couple episodes of mania/psychosis I completely missed. (Mental health in the toilet)
04/2024 : increase Vyvanse to 50mg

• Within a week I knew something wasn’t right, heart rate issues/palptations (151bpm, to my error I had a coffee at the same time as my Vyvanse and it didn’t interact well together) I started self titrating and breaking my 50mg and ingesting 30mg after a 4 day medication holiday as I felt so bad when I was on 50mg, but after a week of 30mg I still felt the same, a lot of self doubt, don’t back myself, anxious/worry etc.

05/2024 : ditched Vyvanse, started Ritalin trial.

• As I’d previously taken 20mg twice a day with issues around my PM dose, I’d concluded my doses were too far apart with what I had learnt,

Day 1: I took 10mg x1 every 4hrs, didn’t feel much or anything. (Hr didn’t really do anything with the meds ingested)
Day 2: I took 10mg x1 every 1-2hrs until I felt something, and voila at dose 4, I felt unbothered by a lot of things that would usually piss me off (bad drivers, my kids doing kid things) so I took a further 2 until 60mg was taken for that day.
Day 3-11: I took 10mg x2 every 3-4hrs, I feel emotive, calm, happy, no anxious feelings at all, executive function is slightly better however the biggest win is I can RELAX which has been a lot of my issues in the past, constantly feeling shit needs to be done, when in actual fact nothing is pressing right now (business stuff) I’m able to parent better and be very patient and calm when my kids (also adhd) have moments, mostly the post school restraint collapse, and be well grounded to help my daughter decompress.
(I cried in the car to work listening to old songs I listened to when I was in high school and not knowing the depth of the lyrics, mostly mourning my childhood being late aged diagnosed)
After all my whole journey to being diagnosed was to give the support to my daughter that I’d been refused to as a child by my parents (even my primary school principal suggested I be evaluated, and I’d say mostly from a caring place).
My conclusions ; it may take a while to get your medication selection / dosage correct, just don’t give up, be careful of ‘chasing the dragon’ but also be as open as possible with your GP/Psych, sometimes we’re taught to please and not be a hindrance by downplaying potential side effects which can slow things down.
Thanks for reading my TEDtalk.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/Throwaway1209aloq posting in TrueOffMyChest
Concluded as per OOP
Content warning - implied stealthing
1 update - Medium
Original - 31st March 2024
Update - 17th May 2024
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Dumped my girlfriend over a joke and I can't tell anyone or I'll look like a psycho.
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My (23M) Ex (25F) and I were together for just under eight months, and like, we clicked. Got along like a house on fire from the moment we met. We had a lot in common from our morals, to our goals, to our taste in music. My family? Loves her. probably more than they do me. (Mom wanted a daughter so bad she couldn't stand it growing up- 4 sons before she gave up.)
It was probably three months ago now that we had been on the couch while I watched a movie and she scrolled TikTok, (Not a TikTok hate post, scrolling can be fun, I'm just more of a Youtube guy.)
Speaking of showing me videos, she showed me one of a man holding his son, and dancing to a song. She laughed and said something about how good I would look as a dad, which was pretty weird considering as far as I knew, both of us were child-free by choice. (God knows I am.) I tried to take it as a joke, and mentioned that it was "too bad, so sad," she would never know. (I thought she would respond something about how there's nothing sad about avoiding it or something. She has never given me indication before this that she wanted children.)
And she started giggling this like, evil giggle, and said something like "I don't know, it only take's one broken condom." In this like sing-song voice that I'm not even joking gave me fucking goosebumps. The implication was clear in her tone. Like, was she making a joke about poking holes in condoms? To me? For real? I tried to laugh it off, but it made me SO fucking uncomfortable. Like skin-crawling levels of skeeved the fuck out. And after that my sexual interest for her was entirely gone, it's like I processed her as a threat or something. To be entirely honest? My libido in general is entirely fucking gone. Still hasn't come back. It feels like it's hibernating or something, until the scary lady is gone.
I know what you're thinking, "Why didn't you communicate?", and I tried, like a couple times, but when she said "Oh my god, I was kidding you big baby!" but never denied that the joke was about that. I dropped it, and stopped bringing it up. I didn't think it was worth the fight at that point, because while I still do care about her, like, a lot, I do not feel comfortable even going to sleep around her, and there is no way that is gonna mesh with a healthy relationship. If there's no trust, there's no relationship, that's how I feel, right? So I broke up with her, and when I told her, I said it was because I really needed to "focus on myself". Didn't see a point in telling her then - it would have just pissed her off. As is, she seemed to take it in stride, not angry, or concerningly upset, so that's good.
My family is more heartbroken than I am, and I haven't been great. They're begging me to reconsider, not that I would, especially considering there's no way in hell I'm telling them anything, my mother would be beside herself, think 'grandchildren please son, give me grandchildren', but more than that, I know even my dad, who doesn't care about grandchildren, and recognizes that he's more likely to get them from my younger siblings, would call me out for overreacting. So they got the same story she did. It's frustrating, because I know it's no big deal, and a joke, but it had also been upsetting, or sad. .
I know I'm overreacting, but in the moment it felt like my only option, and I really don't want to take it back even if I am. I know you may think I'm paranoid, and I probably am, but I just could not stop thinking about it. After she told that joke, I think it was gonna end one way or another, so I'm glad it ended on decent terms instead of trying to stay and fix everything until I hated her.
Sorry, I'm talking a lot, but Like I said, no one to talk to about this because being unreasonable IRL is like a criminal arrest and I'm trying to avoid another of that particular black mark on my reputation. Anyway. Off to research Vasectomies because I will not be entering another relationship, or becoming any kind of active with anyone until then haha.
TL;DR: My ex made a broken-condom joke and I spiraled so hard I ended the relationship, but that's really embarrassing so I half-heartedly claimed it was for self improvement instead.
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Comments
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Birchbeerisawesome
First of all, you are young, and relationships aren’t always going to work out long term. Also, since you had such a strong reaction to the “joke”, it seems like the vascectomy route is going to be your best path going forward! I’m of the firm belief that if you don’t want kids, definitely don’t risk having them! You will be ok in the long run, stick by what’s right for you!
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maximusultra
If you're 100% child free as a dude fr vasectomy is the legit end game , but you have to do the 3 months of condoms or abstinence but also need to beat the shmeat 20x to clear the mag
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absolutemadwoman
One of the secrets in life is: you can break up with someone for ANY reason.
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Update - 1.5 months later
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Well. I never ever thought I would update, but I have one, lol. Like I thought I had lost the password to this account and everything, but it was saved in the notes on my laptop. This isn't much of an update, but I can say that I did end up telling my friends more about the breakup- after I found out my ex is trying for a baby with her new bf, also her ex.
Also I wasn't stalking her to get this information, I live in a small town, and two of my friends came to me and told me. They said they didn't want me to find out from someone else, but I didn't really care outside of the relief that now I was sure that she wasn't pregnant during the breakup, something that had been giving me nightmares- they calmed down. Apparently both of them thought I would react badly to the information and spiral or something. Whatever.
I know a lot of people said I had taken a joke and overreacted, was a cruel-hearted and evil misogynist trying to control her body and everything else, but this just confirmed to me that she was never joking. I mean, its been a little over two months since the break-up, and she's trying to have a baby.
I'm not angry at her anymore, not at all, in fact I'm happy for her, because if this is what she want's good for her. I just wish she could have told me sooner, so as to not waste either of our times.
I've been working on getting a Vasectomy, but as of now it hasn't happened yet. But as I mentioned in the last post I won't be sexually/romantically active to any degree with anyone but my hand until that's completed. I think I'm lightly traumatized- this is a joke, you can laugh! What else? Uhhh.... I'm thinking about getting a new dog? I have nothing else to add here, but thanks anyway.
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Comments
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granny_weatherwax_
You know what? I don't think you broke up over a joke. I think you broke up over a threat. If my partner joked about getting me pregnant by fucking with my birth control, and I KNEW they wanted to be a parent, I would have a really hard time trusting them again, especially without an earnest apology and a straightforward conversation where they acknowledged why the "joke" would be scary.
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Alien_lifeform_666
Absolutely, 100%, that was a threat. She was effectively telling him that she could arrange to get pregnant if she wanted to, and there’s nothing he could do about it. That’s breakup territory.
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Ok_Budget1724
Interesting perspective - I’ve been begging for an IUD but have made similar jokes in the past - fully anticipating he would be wearing a condom or having plan b effective / an abortion as worst case scenario. I think getting a vasectomy if YOU don’t want children is important. I stopped traditional birth control for health reasons / disorganisation but always let that partner know.

OOP: Yeah, I explained it in the last post to a degree, but I didn't really get into my medical anxiety. I have it a lot, and even when I made my last post I knew I was going to have to get one, because I realized trusting someone else with my future- no matter how trustworthy they may seem- isn't enough. I have never, and never intend to have sex without a condom. Even after the vasectomy, and every woman I've been with sexually has expressed that they are also childfree, and are on birth control of some kind. I am not into taking chances. I wouldn't mentally be able to handle having a child, and I would be a terrible father. I knew it was my time to take it into my own hands after last time, but was still extremely nervous, to the point I was considering becoming celibate, just to avoid the possibility all together.
It was actually the men, and wives of men on reddit who reached out after my last post, and explained that they understood the nerves, and they were natural, but that it really wasn't as scary, or as painful as it sounds. I am very thankful for that, because it helped me to get up the balls (pun not intended), to bring it up with my doctor and start the process. Some even gave me advice on how to deal with the healing process, which I have fully taken under advisement.
I'm hoping that afterword I feel the same way they do: Confused and frustrated with myself as to why I didn't do it sooner.

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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

TLDR: Is there such thing as a life boot camp with ppl with high-functioning ASD? An intensive, hands on, and or immersive type "experience" where one could learn "simple" things like how to open your mail, pay bills on time, make checklists for yourself, keep your room clean (make a bed, fold laundry), etc? It would be such a great bonus if there was ANYTHING that could teach basic intimate relationship skills too either in addition or separately. I have been overcompensating for my husband for almost a decade and a half and Im getting worn out. I don't want to do it bc not only do I think it wouldn't work but it would have me "playing mommy" and no one wants to f*ck their mother. At least they are not supposed to ;)
My apologies if I am in the wrong place.
I love my husband, I do. I don't want to get divorced, we have 2 kids F 13 and M 12. Our parents got divorced and we never want to do that our kids. That said, I have been pretty unhappy for YEARS. I posted in the deadbedroom bc our sex life ground down to a halt and someone there thought my hubby sounded ASD. It made so much sense the more I looked into it. Both of our kids have been diagnosed ASD and ADHD (both my hubby and I are diagnosed ADHD-He takes meds and sees a psch, I don't bc I don't feel the need). Ive told him many times you are either ASD or an a$$hole? Which is it or is it both?
ITB his parents got divorced when he was 6 months old, he never had a romantic relationship that lasted longer than 5 months, and the fact that he is a "geek" (works in tech and has a master's in Physics-he got on a full merit scholarship), he has little to no life skills and or understands what is involved in a healthy happy intimate relationship.
When we 1st met, he was living in squalor. Like never cleaned his bathroom for 13 yrs, only owned 1 fork, had only a bed, a desk, and a book shelf in a 1200 sq ft apt. Stacks of books everywhere and piles of old clothes, shoes, etc. I tend to be a fairly "dynamic" person and had owned my own company for almost a decade. My profession requires a HUGE level of organization, people skills, etc and utilizes all my positive attributes of ADHD. It seemed at the time I could take the guy out of the squalor, give him a beautiful home, children and a great life. But I guess I did not understand that you cant take the squalor out of the guy?!?!
We met when I was turning 40 and he was 42 going on 43. I got pregnant the 1st time we had sex, so we got married, bought our 1st home and other amazing milestones happened easily and quickly for us. For the 1st 5 yrs we were married, it wasn't perfect but things worked and I was happy. I now realize that I just overcompensated for him in MANY ways, thinking that he would get the hang of SOME things and learn how to pitch in and or be more of a partner. We have tried marriage counseling through the yrs but nothing seems to have any effect on him. He goes through the movements or just says what sounds good at the time but just reverts back or doesn't do anything that would be or lead to meaningful change.
He operates on this lvl where if he thinks things are fair or good, they are...even though they so arent. He LOVES playing the semantics game where he will claim things like he IS "trying" bc he does X (that is a very small baby step type thing) for X amount of time and I guess I am supposed to understand and take whatever he is doing bc....reasons and he is "trying."
Besides doing his job that he was doing for years before we met (he is the same "lvl" and has not taken on ANY advancement in his career) to earn the $ that supports our family (we agreed I would give up my company and career until our youngest went to the 1st grade and I have made some savvy investments to bring in considerable $) he does practically NOTHING. He works from home since 2020/Covid and at 1st it was good bc it offered us more freedom in where we could live but now he is around 24/7. I would LOVE to return to my beloved career, but I have nothing left energy and time wise between our kids, the house, and him. He wont even get our mail out of the mailbox, let alone open it and or deal with LIFE.
He is seeing a psychiatrist and says he doesn't suffer from depression. He has terrible sleep hygiene and we sleep in separate rooms. We have cleaning people in once a week but his room is almost constantly dirty, disorganized, and cluttered. He constantly maintains that he doesn't really see what the problem is and plays the "semantics game" like "I empty out the dishwasher" ( a task that I have timed myself doing in less than 2 min) or "I take out the trash" when I bring up that I feel like Im drowning in a sea of tasks.
I have told him that I am unhappy. I have screamed and yelled. I have tried being sweet and accommodating to ask that he be at least semi-accommodating in return but he doesn't seem to care that our relationship is not mitigated. I have tried letting things get so bad that he would HAVE to do more but he just lets things get so bad like when our water gets turned off due to lack of payment, he goes to the store and bought a few gallons of water so "it buys us some time" getting the water bill paid the next day. It is NOT like we don't have the $, he just doesn't "like" paying bills and or "dealing with drudgery" LIKE I DO!?!?!
I have asked him to live in a hotel bc I told him that if he didn't, I would go to a hotel bc I need a break from him AND I want him to know I am SO SICK OF HIS SH*T. He agreed and is supposed to be trying to find help. He has tried life coaches (he simply did not do any work that they gave him to do and they charge 1k a month) and allegedly is trying procrastinators anonymous but I see no real effort. I have asked him to get diagnosed with ASD but he claims he spoke with a therapist that specializes in ppl with ASD and the therapist said that "it wouldn't matter" if he got a diagnosis. I asked if he is telling ppl that his marriage is on the rocks and he told me that he did say that his "lack of effort has put some strife in his marriage." Some strife in his marriage?!?! Did he elaborate and or tell them about how unhappy I am? No. He is "concentrating" his efforts on improving "executive functioning" and I guess this is supposed to help make the MEANINGFUL CHANGE I so desperately want and need him to make.
I think that something like boot camp or a life skill clinic or a halfway house for separated/divorced dads would stand the best chance of having him make the changes to his life he DESPERATELY needs to make. If not for me or even more for him but for our kids. They are picking up his bad and destructive habits. In his defense, he doesn't know how to do most things. Both of his parents were highly toxic ppl. His father died in his apt and it wasn't until his body started to smell that anyone noticed. The fire dept had to climb in through the window-fire escape bc the apt was so cluttered/hoarded. His mother is anorexic, keeps no food in the house, will sleep in her clothes on top of a made bed rather than "do all that laundry," and lives in squalor. So, he never learned it at home.
Is there anything where a grown man could learn basic life skills and or how to be a halfway (Id take 1/8) decent partner? Maybe if he could gain some life skills and or the ability to deal with life's demands, he would be happier, healthier in mind, body, and spirit, and in turn me and our family.
ANY suggestions besides "just get a divorce" or "put up with it bc you have for over a decade" it would be helpful. Thanks for reading my BOOK.

A year and half ago one of my sons childhood friends was in a very difficult situation. She had two teenage children, a dog, two cats and had no where to go. I'll refer to her has Sheila. I'm “retired” while my husband says he's retired ( but never stopped) and we have grandkids; when my son was complaining about how he wished he had space for this friend ...I volunteered. We had the extra rooms for her and the kids, we also had the acreage for additional animals except for the cats. My husband is deathly allergic to cats. Regardless, I talked to my husband, and we then offered her the extra rooms for free. So long as Sheila finds someplace else for the cats. She agreed and she was very appreciative while also being honest with us. She has an autoimmune disease (JRA) and the youngest is autistic while her oldest is trans; she’s a chef at heart and we're retired so she'll take care of the meals. As she already had a job to work from home, those checks would go into savings.
We had a few weeks of near daily talks hashing out how this would work. I'll give the highpoints but these were the general rules:
Her rent is paid via meals. Her children do chores as they’re capable of doing them (cleaning their bathroom, vacuuming, dishes, keeping their room clean, and helping my husband to maintain the main lawn [which is maybe 1000sf] and help as requested with the farm.) She had 1 year to save up for a place of her own. To be rediscussed every 6 months.
We’ve had 3 discussions since, and no she doesn't have the money to move out in this economy. Most of this is due to the 3 hospitalizations through no fault of her own (and the way the economy keeps raw dogging everyone who doesn't have a 6 digit bank account)...we are fine with her and her kids being here. I managed to help the autistic one get into general Ed and he's on his way to graduating. I'm so extremely proud of him, he entered my house as creature who did everything he could to make himself small and acceptable to everyone else. Today, me and him can argue about moral ideologies in an heated manner and after the cool down still wants to sit with me while I watch my brain watch TV. Just the fact that he’s willing to be vocal is my pride in him; he's worked hard to get here and I'm so happy for him. I'll answer questions about that relationship if needed as I'm rambling.
After 3 months of Sheila being here I cook all the meals. She in effort at the start but now after a year and half, I'm do all the meals myself. In the times where I just can't my husband does. I think the last meal she put into this house was for the day after new years which was warming up left overs. Which is what's contributing to my attrition and may make the asshole.
My AITA is about her damn dog. I told Sheila not to give her dog a specific food. Bunny is now older and I just burried my baby boy at 20 years; 7 years after the vet said he'd live a month, I went psycho on his diet and kept him going happy and energetic for 7 years. Sheila has been fine in letting me control the animals diets. And I have become a but of a Nazi; there are some foods that a dog can have young that they can't have when they're older. Garlic is one of them. Bunny is now 7 years, I nevere let her have garlic. Sheila dropped some garlic pita chips into the flow tonight and called Bunny to eat them to clean it up. I screamed
It's a great Dane and Belgium Malinos mix and was 5 years old when I first met it. It's father was a Great Dane and the mother a Malnous-(I'm not spelling it right but I cannot get autocorrect to make it correct)-a bug lazy giant mixed with a hyper working dog. It's friggin neurotic. The first day I met it it jumped up into my face and broke my nose. To be honest she warned me it was a jumper and I didn't respect that warning.
I don't want to be disrespectful but...I broke that dog of jumping in a month of it being in my house. Not because I'd make it negative, but because I’d say no and crowd her her immediately and when she greeted people without jumping I'd get excited and give treats. As my son says, “It's the smartest dumb dog I've ever met.” It is extremely intelligent but...I feel bad for saying this-Sheila has only ever had cats. She doesn't give it direction or jobs beyond sleeping with her. When it doesn't have a job it is loud and destructive, giving itself guidance that it wants from Sheila.
In the first 6 months it destroyed our back yard fence every time Sheila left the property. I feel the behavior is because she's trained it to be by her side at all times. When she wasn't near, the Dog (named Bunny) didn't know what to do with herself and attacked the fence to try to find her. I've managed to get the dog contained, compliant, and sweet.....when Sheila is not around. If she wasn't so big I'd make her my own.
I know there are two sides of a story and I will try to account for Sheila’s but I am going to advocate for my side.
This dog entered my house barking, jumping, chewing, and spazzing as a puppy would but was actually 5 years old. Shiela just told me Bunny is now 8 years old. As long as Sheila is not around Bunny is calm, response, nondestructive, she has jobs in the house (specifically to chase squirrels out of the garden) until Sheila returns and then no matter what is going on Bunny will scream and cry to get close to Sheila.
Sheila works from home and it's generally fine except for the times when Sheila chooses that Bunny should be outside (arbitrarily). I have to deal with Bunny crying and screaming: Sheila is inside, Bunny is out, I think Bunny is neurotic because she knows Sheila is home and that her job is to be BY Sheila. Sheila’s response to this is to either ignore, scream at her, or give treats-but leave bunny outside while Sheila returns to work. Sheila is very talented at focusing on work regardless of what's going on out side. While Bunny is loosing her mind to get close to Sheila, Sheila doesn't doesn't notice unless I interrupt.
The whole goal of Sheila working is for her to save enough to get a house. I'm committed to this, so I've taken over Bunny during work hours which means two of three meals I feed Bunny. I've been feeding bunny for past year while Sheila works.
Today is apart of a two week vacation Sheila has taken for her oldest graduation. Sheila made food for bunny with Garlic in it. I saw it, and I told Sheila that Bunny is too old to have anything with garlic in it as Bunny is now 7 years old (70 years old in human years, they don't deal with toxins like they used to). Sheila got very upset with me and was very verbal that Bunny was not my dog and I had no voice it what bunny ate.
I feel that Sheila has only said this because I have spent so much time in the last year working with her dog, correcting Bunny to get positive behaviors. This summer Bunny has become very nervous about the new automatic sprinklera we have and I've been the one working Bunny through the fear she has darn near sun up to sun down.
Let me be clear, I'm only doing this now because Sheila simply removes bunny from the yard when the sprinklers start, while I have been sitting in the patio (that the sprinklers don't touch) and been trying to get her comfortable with them. They are new and scary for a dog-Sheila is too busy on the computer to work Bunny through her fears so I'm doing it.
When I work through the day with Bunny, by the afternoon timer that sets the sprinklers off Bunny is having a blast chasing and jumping through the sprinklers.
I'm a bit PO’d at Sheila's outrage and need to assert control over Bunny when I said the dog couldn't have garlic any more. I've shared my house for a year an half with 3 people and dog who all seem to have some sort of behavioral issues. I've exterted control where I can with Bunny to have nice days with own my home with her, her children, and her animals. But Bunny is Sheila's dog so....I don't have a voice.
Please don't placate or disparage; AITA and how do I move through this? It's not my dog, they’re not “famil”y, but I honestly want to continue to help all of them. Including Bunny. I need to find a way to get Sheila on board; she doesn't seem to have the time or patience for Bunny beyond bedtime.
P.S. knowing how reddit commentors can go: I don't argue structure or consequences in regards to her children and I've adapted as Sheila has requested. She simply doesn't have any structure for Bunny, while she enjoys the consequences my structure on Bunny.....she now seems to resent that. As it's only resently she's been putting her foot down about Bunny.
While I'm of the mindset: Bunny is her very first dog, her words, she had only had cats before hand. Sheila did pick a mixed breed but...my god did she pick an unpredictable mix. I've adapted as much as I can to help this dog find calm and connectedness. I love Bunny and I've spent so long working on her poor behaviors, editing her diet, giving her a job and a space that belongs to her inside and outside the house. I just want Bunny to live as long and happy as possible but feel if I put my foot down, I'm the asshole.
Mind the Autocorrect. I've re-read 3 times now and still find crappy misspelling and worse grammar as I've only used Reddit on mobile and make a mash of it every time I do. My apologies.
Edit: I'm sorry, I wrote this while having an argument with Sheila. Bunny is 7-8 years old per Sheila just a it ago; she's unsure of the digs age and has only guessed when talking about Bunny. Sheila said she thinks Bunny was 1 to 2 years old when she got her. My jumping in ages of 7 to 8 to 7 is just me being inaccurate as me and Sheila yell at each other and me typing In here in the lulls.
This is a very active argument. That does NOT end in be evicting them.

Hi, so I really don’t know how to approach this and I really need advice😭 Yesterday was my birthday and my best friend picked me up at 7am to take me to the beach and take pictures of me. While we were at the beach, her little brother tried throwing some pebbles at her and he accidentally hit me with them instead. They flew at my face and my neck and they ended up hurting really bad. I didn’t notice later during the day that the pebbles left a couple of spots on my neck and face that look like hickeys which made me panic. My mom noticed them and confronted me about them the next day. She said that I’m a whore and that she was embarrassed of me saying that I give it up easily to let a man give me hickeys like that. She went off about it saying some really hurtful things and I didn’t get a chance to explain my side of the story. I’m really panicked about it because my mom is your stereotypical strict Hispanic mom and she usually threatens me with things like kicking me out. I honestly don’t know what to do:( Some advice would be very much appreciated.

This is THE best free AI STILL. By far. There is NO competition.
I am currently making it write a short science fiction story. I asked it to make a plot, with mid story twist and ending twist.
Next, I asked it to add two supporting protagonists to the story. Next, I asked it to add three minor characters to the story.
The twist in the middle is great. The ending twist it came up with is fantastic. Action is on a colonizing spaceship flying to another planet.
At first, it wrote a short story with literally 6 paragraphs, divided into chapters. I asked it to write "OK, just write chapter 1 scene 1", asked it to write location descriptions, dialogue between characters.
And it did so. And how.
Here's how I work with the AI to develop the story, lets jump into the middle of it.
Me: Good, but the banter between Maya and Alex should be more joking, less on stressing importance of mission. Make the "alien life form" banter into some form of a joke? Also, the bit about contributing to humanity's future is not necessary.
Pi: "So, what's on the docket for today?" Maya asked as they walked toward the genetics lab. "Oh, just a bit of genetic sequencing, some data analysis, and maybe a game of hide-and-seek with a rogue gene or two," Alex quipped. Maya laughed. "Ah, the glamorous life of a scientist on a generational ship! Sometimes I wonder if there are alien life forms out there having more fun than us." "If there are, they better have some killer dance moves, because our moves in these lab coats are interstellar," Alex joked, striking an exaggerated pose. Maya chuckled, playing along. "Can you imagine? A galactic dance-off between humans and aliens? Now that would be a mission worth signing up for!" As they reached the lab, they were still laughing, ready to tackle the day's work with a lighthearted attitude and a renewed sense of camaraderie.
Me: Continue the story as Alex and Maya work together in the genetics lab. They use future science fiction machines, which are based on real science. They now only talk to each other to further their work. What specific task are they both working on today in the genetics lab?
Pi: Inside the genetics lab, Alex and Maya focused on their task for the day: analyzing a newly discovered genetic anomaly in one of the ship's food crops. Using state-of-the-art equipment, such as the Quantum Gene Sequencer, they were able to delve deep into the plant's DNA, searching for the cause of the abnormality. "Alright, let's start with a complete genetic mapping," Alex said, powering up the sequencer. Maya nodded, carefully placing the plant sample into the machine. "I'll run a comparative analysis against the original genome while we wait for the results." The sequencer hummed to life, its holographic display showing a flurry of data as it worked. "Interesting," Alex noted, studying the preliminary results. "It looks like there's a significant mutation in the photosynthesis gene cluster." Maya glanced over at the display. "That would explain the decreased yield we've been seeing in the hydroponics bay.
Me: Both are somewhat puzzled as to how the mutation could have occured. A small mutation like that is understandable, but to them, this is a big mutation, and should not have occured. Continue the story, please, in that lab.
Pi: Maya furrowed her brow. "I don't understand how such a significant mutation could have occurred. The genetic safeguards in the hydroponics bay should have prevented this." Alex scratched his head, equally perplexed. "You're right. A small mutation here and there is normal, but this... this is different. Could it be a result of a systems malfunction?" Maya shook her head. "I doubt it. The environmental controls are constantly monitored and adjusted. It just doesn't make sense." Alex's gaze drifted to the sequencer's display, which was still churning out data. "Maybe we're missing something. Let's dig deeper into the genome and see if we can find any other anomalies that might explain this." Maya nodded, her fingers flying over the control panel. "Good idea. I'll cross-reference these results with the data from our long-term genetic stability studies." As they delved further into the mystery, the genetics lab hummed with the sound of their focused determination, both scientists refusing to give up until they had an answer.
The only "bad" thing, if I can call it that, is that every paragraph ends with cheesy "lets help each other" paragraph. Take that out, and I literally have a (fan fiction level?) human written science fiction story.
And it is read to me by voice number 4.
And that voice changes its tone and inflection, depending on the character's dialogue and situation. Yes, really.
This is insane.
I don't think you guys have an idea how powerful this (old? bad? soon to be replaced?) Pi AI is.
And I am not hitting any token limits. At all. EVER. This is insane. And free.
PS Sorry about the formatting of Pi entries - on my screen it is formatted like a proper writer would do so.
To the devs of Pi - THANK YOU.
To the people keeping Pi going - THANK YOU.

But first off, I want to clearly state my objectives for these changes:
General:

• Achieve ideal balanced state between the duelists through UNIFORMITY.

Specific:

• Make Raze less oppressive
• Tune up Neon for her to compete well with Jett/Raze in terms of dive capacity
• Tune up Phoenix to rise over Raze in terms of space-clearing capability
• Rework Iso to be a 'dive-capable' agent, without erasing his identity.
• Give minor buffs to Yoru, to help with his ease of mobility across large maps like Breeze.
• Forget about Reyna for now.

Targets:
Rank in terms of Movement:

1. Neon
2. Jett
3. Raze
4. Yoru
5. Iso
6. Phoenix

Rank in terms of ability functions: (1- having the most self-aiding abilities, and 6- having the most enemy-debuffing abilties; Ultimates not counted)

1. Jett (3 abilities for self)
2. Iso (2 for self, 1 for enemy)
3. Neon (2, 1)
4. Yoru (1, 2)
5. Raze (1, 2)
6. Phoenix (3 for enemies)

Ideal Map Size for Each Duelists:
Jett: flexible Raze: mid-ranged - close-ranged Neon: mid-ranged - long-ranged Phoenix: close-ranged Iso: mid-ranged Yoru: long-ranged (Bind being an exception because of the presence of teleport portals)
So, here are the changes with my reasonings:
1.) JETT [No Changes]

• Jett is a fairly decent agent now and pros who have mastered her pick her.

2.) RAZE [Nerf]
Make Paintshells her Q, and Blast Packs her E
Q: Paintshells - Make shootable (100HP) while still in the air; will explode upon shooting.
E: Blast Pack - Rechargeable every two kills (one pack). Only displaces Raze. No equip delay for it to deal damage.
X: Showstopper - Remove the feature/bug that sents Raze flying when fired to the ground in combo with a satchel.

• I made Raze's kit mainly focused on entry- this weakens her another initially strong function which is flushing out enemies from a site. Hence, her signature ability now is her satchels. And since satchel propels Raze to the air, I made her grenade able to be used as a good distraction that the enemies can point their crosshairs to.

3.) NEON [Buff/Rework]

• We can go two ways about this: it is either,

1. Neon retains her movement ability as it is, but gets buffs to her other abilities, including ult.
2. Neon gets buffs to her movement ability but retains her other abilities.

If chosen the latter, the changes would be:
E: High Gear - Introduce a new passive that will replace the slide: SURGE. Right-click while sprinting to quickly drain Neon's energy meter and surge- during this period, she runs twice (2.5x) the speed as her normal sprint. (5m/s increased to 12.5m/s). When activated, the energy meter drains 4x as fast and will not recharge anymore for the remainder of the round. Passive is usable only once per round.
E: (Electric Slide) - Make electric slide usable everytime Neon sprints: but only moves her as far as 3m. To slide and pull out gun after sprinting, press Ctrl key (crouch). Sliding after Surge moves Neon for 7m.
X: Neon cannot shoot electric field during surge while ulted.

• I chose the latter since I want Neon to be the ideal dive agent. Compared to Jett and Raze, she now has three movement configurations at her disposal: slide, surge, sprint. This makes her a movement-focused agent. But as trade-off, she has comparatively weaker basic abilities and ultimate than both Jett and Raze since unlike the two, Neon's stuns, wall and ult oblige her to keep pushing forward ang get a kill; there are no secondary uses to them such as stalling or intel-gathering. And also, she lacks the verticality that the two agent offer. Hence, she must clearly excel in her horizontal mobility.

4.) PHOENIX [Rework]
Make C ability (Blaze) his Q and His flashes his C.
Q: Blaze - Has 4s Duration (1s casting period included), 15 dps. Can be casted through walls. Already deals damage during the casting period. Casting/curving the wall is now faster. Phoenix will not get healed by the wall anymore. But casting it induces a speed boost of about 15%.
E: Hot Hands - Resembles Raze's grenade more than Brimstone's molly now. Ability model now looks like a campfire, unlike before when it looked like a lava flow. Area of damage effect spreads over time throughout its 3s duration. Ticks 35 damage per second. Does not heal Phoenix anymore.
X: Run it Back - Ult points required: 6 > 8

• I changed the abilities, without changing Phoenix's kit and identity as a whole (except the healing part, which I think can be the niche of Reyna but let's forget about her for now). I made his wall more optimal for assault gunfights and taking space, instead of maintaining brief control over an area or cutting off sightlines when entrying into site (Viper and Harbor do that already). Phoenix's molly is also his signature ability; thus, it is appropriate that it stands as the best molly in the game- not Raze's anymore. With these changes, I'm hoping for Phoenix to be a hard-clearing duelists who's designed to flush enemies out of tight areas and corners (Haven garage and a short came to mind). And lastly, the ult orb change is for making Phoenix's ult more in-line with other ults in the game since it is pretty strong.

5.) ISO [Rework]
Make his C ability (bulletproof wall), attached to his E ability for it to work like this: when Iso gets a shield, he can detach it from his body and turn it into a forward-moving impenetrable wall as the ability window ends. Then, replace it with a new C ability.
C: (cant think of a name for it) - Iso's MOVEMENT ability. Equip to instantly send out a flying aimlab orb (like a sova drone but has the same speed of gekko's thrash) for 2s. Has 2 charges: equip the 2nd charge while the previous charge's timer is running out to refresh the ability timer. After the timer expires, Iso will be teleported to the land directly below the orb. Has the same gun pullout speed as Yoru.
Q: Undercut - Aside from the vulnerability, add a new status effect: ISOLATION. Enemies hit by it will have narrowed down vision (similar to spike rush paranoia) and will be unable to make crossfires with their ally/allies. This debuff won't allow for the narrowed vision cone of the affected player to intercept with the vision cone of his/her ally. Charge decreased: 2 > 1
E: Double Tap - Charge decreased from 2 > 1. Duration of focused activity decreased to 10s.
Okay, explanations here we go:
C: From ISO's pov

• When casted, enter a 'phaser world' similar to his ult but has the same layout as the map. (Works like Omen's smokes but first-person; so basically, the camera is attached to the orb itself). The movement of the orb in Iso's world is the same as in the actual world. The orb cannot trasverse through walls.

C: From allies' pov

• Iso's body remains stationary at the place where he casted the ability (like a Sova droning or a Skye dogging). Iso casting the second charge of the orb while the first charge is still active will not spawn Iso to where the first charge ended. Rather, Iso will remain at the position where he casted the first charge until the second charge's timer expires.

C: From enemy's pov

• Flying orb looks just like a normal orb that Iso shoots when E is active. Only difference is that, it requires to be shot twice to break it. Once destroyed, Iso is forcibly spawned, standing at the land below it.

Q: How does it work?

• Assume that your allies have lasers directly pointing to where their crosshairs are - and that each of the beam ends when it hits a surface/wall. Now, when you're hit by an enemy Iso's undercut, looking at atleast one of these laser beams will blind you at an almost instantaneous speed.
• Why all of these changes? To answer that, I practically just gave Iso some of Omen's characteristics. Iso's C ability now is almost identical to Omen's shrouded steps; and his Q to Omen's paranoia. This is to promote competition within the role since Iso now has a movement ability, albeit not a strong one. Besides, Iso's power lies at his ability to isolate enemies: these changes only strengthen Iso in this axis while still providing signifcant drawbacks: (only one charge of Q and E, risky entry with C and being unable to disengage with it unlike other movement abilities).

6.) YORU [Buff]
E teleport anchor & Q projectile now move depending on Yoru's velocity during casting (similar to Omen's paranoia before it was patched out). Moving forward: faster, backward: slower, still: normal.
7.) REYNA [Rework]

• I just stated a few pharagraphs ago to forget about Reyna. But, ignoring her will be a blatant problem. It is actually her that needs fixing more than the other agents in the game since her playstyle just does not fit valorant. One may argue that as long as Reyna caters to a certain playerbase, she is okay and better be left as is. That may be true to some extent but I am sharing my concept anyways.

C: Leer - Invisible when still in motion, only becomes visible and nearsights enemy when already at targeted position.
E: Dismiss & Q: Devour - still has shared two charges. But the left part now (under E) is highlighted purple, while the right part is white. The latter charge is purchasable.Reyna has one free purple charge every round. Q is now usable even WITHOUT harvesting a soul orb- this consumes the white charge. When Q activated, enter a 12s activation window (similar to Jett's tailwind) that grants Reyna increased gun pull out speed and quiet footsteps even when running with melee out. When the timer expires, all the damage incurred by Reyna during the 12s window will be healed at a rate of 20HP/s. Press Q while the window is active to abruptly finish the timer and heal up. Throughout the interaction, Reyna does not have ability cast animations.
Press Q while a soul orb is in line of sight to OVERHEAL with it (like how it works now)- this consumes the purple charge. E is only usable through a soul orb- this also consumes the purple charge.
X: Empress - Enter frenzy mode. The purple charge gets unlimited and can be used as long as there is a soul orb available. Ult points requirement: 7 > 6
And those are all the changes. If you made it to the end, thank you for reading my weeks worth of thinking.

The shuttle rocked in the rain as it approached the surface. The last bastion. The place where she awaited
You heard stories. Hell, youd been present for some, seen things that would have broken any mortals mind as it had done so many others. And while you were just a mere mortal you endured for one reason.
Love.
How ironic that they decided it must be you to take her life
"Entered through the atmosphere, we seem to be undetected" the pilot lies, you know your night and know that she probably saw you enter the system "ETA 1 hour to drop point" you don't dignify him with a response, you've barely talked to anyone sense the order
Your wargear clatters as the shuttle shakes in the wind. Special gear, that of an elite assassin, second probably only to hers in stealth and lethality. Dozens of blades and poisons so toxic you were told to leave any of the adamantite shells after an hour on the planet. Your every move planned and thought out for weeks
None of it would matter. She told you herself how this would end. Your blade, her body. How there would be no fight even if she wanted to
You recall that day, it was in all honesty the most stable you had seen her ever. It was twilight, she refused to go out in the day, the two of you were sitting on a balcony. The two of you were sewing
Purple cloth lay in your lap. Golden thread hanging from your needle. You looked over at a curse, seeing her struggle to thread her needle
"Here, let me help" you gently rech over and guide her ever shakey hands through the eye. A brief smile, almost resembling a predator baring their teeth "thank you" she whispers "what would I do without you" she leans onto your shoulder, hands working on her project
"It doesn't matter love" you wrap your arm around her, surprisingly she accepts. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you see"
"I saw you leaving so many times" she starts to tremble as tears form in the corners of her eyes "so many have turned away from me. Even my sisters" she grabs tightly to your arm as she quietly sobs
You hold reach over and pat her back as she sobs into you "Sanguinia doesn't. Remember when she took you out to try that wine?" You reminder her
"I didn't like any of them, I finished the tasting in minutes and ruined the whole thing" the words come in between the sobs
"And then she took you around untill she sound something you liked, remember what it was?" You reach into your bag and produce a flask, uncorking it and waving it around the sobbing slows as she looks up through her fallen hair
You gently move your arm and she pushes into you. Taking the flask you hold it to her lips "what did you find out that day?" You hold the flask away, waiting for her answer
"That I liked hot chocolate" she mumbles as you reward her with the sugary treat, you feel her start to relax as you keep giving her sips
"That's right. And your sister found that out, one that didn't leave you" you say. Getting only a unidentifiable mumble in response "and ill always have some ready for you, I promise" feeling her tense up at your words
"Did I ever tell you about promises on my home world?" You cut off whatever she was about to say "back home they used to say that there were spirits that lived on promises. And that when you made one you made them happy, and as long as you kept their promise they'd help you in little ways." Between the chocolate and story she remains quiet
"And they'd say the bigger promise you made that the more they'd help you. Maybe only once, but you would know that they did" finishing your story "and I promise to you. I will be there for you. And I will have some ready for you" she sighs and takes the flask from your hands. Turning away from you she drinks it at her own pace.
Knowing she needs to process you return to your work. Finishing the last few stitches before turning "Kassandra" seeing her turn, drawing her needle with her teeth "I've got this for you" you hold up a simple scarf, made for someone of her size
She let's you wrap it around her neck, as you explain "I know it's cold sometimes when you go out in the night. And I know you get cold often so I figured I'd make this to keep you warm" taking the end of the scarf in her hands she sees a small golden heart with your initials in it "and that's so you remember who's waiting at home for you" you say with a kiss on her check
She doesn't move for a few minutes, before offering a simple shirt, one made of cloth and not flesh. "I made this after the last one" she mumbles out, her hair hiding most of her face "I know you didn't like it much"
Brushing the hair out of her glowing purple eyes you accept the shirt lovingly, before swapping your shirt out for it, it fits perfectly "I love it dear" you look into her eyes as she ducks her head
A faint smile visible
"DROP IN 10 SECONDS" the pilots voice snaps you out of your memories as you check and make sure everything is in place
"GO FOR DROP" the voice roars our over the engines as you jump from the shuttle. Grav shoot kicking in as you aproch the ground, landing in the courtyard. Looking back as the shuttle flys off, you steel yourself and approach the doors
They open as you approach, leading you into the hall where she sits at the end. "I knew they'd send you" her voice comes with a tone of a dead woman walking "the only one I couldn't bring myself to hurt" you see angry red lines all over her body as you approach
"Did they tell you what I did? How I ripped apart Regalia? How mich flesh I flensed from her?" Her voice rises in anger st the memory
You reach her as she looks up at you. A woman with nothing left "do it" she spits, directed at the ones who sent you here "kill me and be done with it" she looks down, not able to meet your eyes "please just make it quick" you faintly make out
Your heart weaps as your dagger raises, you look down upon your love. She doesn't move, resigned to her fate. Her hair flowing down covering her face "im sorry" you whisper as your arm falls forward...
You catch a flash of purple and gold between strands of her hair
Your dagger plunges into your chest. Right through the camera that you wore, a scream comes from Kassandra as she rushes to catch your falling body "no, no, no ,No" she repeats over and over, "I was the one to die not you" she starts desperately trying to stop the bleeding but has no knowledge
"You did die here" no pain in your voice, forced back for her sake "that's what they'll belive" you cough, blood splattering on your chest, your armor pried off by her hands to reveal the shirt she made for you and...
"Is that..." a sob breaks her sentence. Seeing the flask you always wore steaming in the cool air "I made a promise didn't I?" You grin turning into a wince as pain shoots through you "you know how promises are" you take the flask reach up, determind to have her drink
Only for your limbs to disobey you, the flask falling to the floor
Check out my other works here

Sorry if this question is too redundant or vague.
I'm looking forward to enlisting soon to give my life some direction, opportunity, and excitement. I have some vague artistic aspirations that I'm continually trying to fashion into some kind of career but I'm not really sure what AFSC to choose! I also have other career aspirations to become a psychotherapist but nothing really lines up with that besides Mental Health Service which might as well be Admin.
I was set on EOD for awhile before I realized that I didn't really want the job badly enough to go through such a rigorous pipeline and risk washing out into a shit job, especially when I'm not very mechanically-inclined. I like learning about explosives and it sounds super cool but I dont think its for me, at least not the current me. Since I'll be going into all this as a freshly-minted adult I figure it'd be better if I wasn't worried about failing the EOD pipeline while I'm adjusting to this new chapter, and if it really calls to me then I can retrain later without worrying about failing and getting thrown into MX.
I went in actually being torn between airborne linguist and EOD before I since changed my mind. I enjoy learning languages and have some experience in a few, and doing it as aircrew instead of a windowless cubicle could give me the variety, cameraderie, excitement, mental challenge, and travel opportunities I've been looking for. I've also wanted to learn a language to fluency for awhile, and if I'm really lucky, I could even get Korean, which would be awesome cause I'm Korean-American and have always wanted to seriously learn. But unlike EOD, I have to list another 8 or 9 jobs alongside airborne linguist that I wouldn't mind getting instead of getting a guarunteed job contract.
I already took the AFWIN survey and the only jobs that seemed interesting were Intel and Flight Ops / Command&Control. Stuff like C&C Battle Ops and Command Post sound good so I'll put those down. I might but Public Affairs down too.
So, any advice on picking those remaining jobs, based on what I'm looking for? Is EOD secretly the right choice that I will excel in and lead me to greatness? Should I go for 9J000 instead? What's your job like?

Hi apes,

Can you feel it? Its finally here, but its not really anything like what we thought, ITS BETTER! That said I know how unforgiving you are so ill start with my superstonk credentials . Its just a link to my first post here so you will know that I am a dumbass ape that thinks the orange crayons taste the best.
Even so i expect to get torn up but I cant stop thinking about this, however before we start.
___________________
To Mr Roaring Kitty,
I want to take a moment to thank Roaring Kitty for everything. You made us a family, made us money and most important of all you gave us hope, there really was none. Even if we fail it was worth every penny.
Personally I had just lost my mom from COVID. We were so poor she died alone in a rehab bed since the beds were full in the hospital. We could not see her since it was a secure facility, she was just, gone. So many of us lost.
That is when I met the apes, your apes, your movement, and then it became our movement.
Kitty, you will never have to buy another beer again in your life. That goes double for your wife who also must have had to endured some shit, from both friend and foe. Hi Mrs. Kitty.
You didn't have to do any of this and you have inspired me and others to change the world, with or without tendies. You are not alone, we are on your motherfucking left!
Your Hamms is on us! Cheers!
________________________
APES I don't care if you do it here or anywhere but you let him know how grateful you are. You may copy paste the following "Thank you Roaring Kitty!".
alright so on with it, most of this is tin foil hat, but we are used to that.
Since we have so many new apes, many whom have felt the pain of being the victims of market manipulation this week, I will be defining things that are common knowledge for us Silverbacks.
all of this is, like my opinion man ok?
Disclaimer*:* Most everything I have learned of stocks I have learned with my fellow silverbacks. I am not a financial ANYTHING nor am I the algorithm Aladdin or the AI that reads these threads in order to change positions in the stock market. If you follow my advice you will end up naked in a small town in Mexico holding a banana in a moldy tortilla reciting Vogon poetry in Spanish pig latin (EFE)

WHATS WITH ALL THE MEMES FROM KITTY?

They are a genius move that do 2 things.
1- The Memes give us hints into what the plan is that cannot be stopped at the same time circumventing AI and the ALADDIN algorithm that reads these posts and adjusts the shorts position accordingly. While simultaneously making everyone ask "is it him?" this is called plausible deniability. Aladdin controls 70% of the market and is controlled at least laterally by a shithead named kenny, we don't like kenny, but he is irrelevant now.
2- The Memes are also a trap for the shorts who are thinking in an archaic way, spending literally billions to keep the price down using Synthetic shares. Maximizing the payoff by making them borrow more shares from us!
SEE GENIUS!
WAS E.T. HIS LAST POST?
You think a gangster like kitty goes out with a whimper like ET?

• V FOR VENDETTA (meme) the music is in overture.
• Run forest run, (meme) on a bridge 3/4 of the way over. Also a bridge is capital that you use to acquire businesses.
• 741 is everywhere which means the document filed for the 45 million shares and the possible use to exchange in stock for stock trade. also i saw the number 14.7 somewhere in there, percentage?

The last meme will be wonderous I expect nothing less from the man himself.
Selling him short like that, Shame on you!
But honestly I don't know.

WHAT IS A SYNTHETIC SHARE? WTF IS A DARKPOOL?

Synthetic shares, in the context of "seller boxing" and dark pool trading, refer to financial instruments that replicate the economic effects of owning actual shares without representing real equity ownership in a company. These shares are created through derivatives like options, swaps, or other financial instruments. When combined with seller boxing and dark pool trading, synthetic shares can play a significant role in market manipulation strategies. Here’s how this process generally works:
Seller Boxing Explained: Seller boxing is a strategy used to suppress the price of a stock by overwhelming the market with sell orders, often without actual stock changing hands. This keeps the stock price artificially low and can create a negative perception of the stock's value, making it unattractive to potential buyers.
Dark Pools Explained: Dark pools are private exchanges or forums for trading securities, not accessible by the public. They are often used by institutional investors to make large trades without exposure.
To KISS : Synthetic shares are just that, fake. But they important how we are going to the fucking moon, its how we are going to get paid. Last week a massive amount of dark pool synthetic shares were used.
At this moment you should understand that if the price is fake, and even buying at the tippy top last week is still a good bet, when MOASS happens.

OK SO WHEN IN THE FUCK IS MOASS?

According to the memes within a few weeks, be zen there is a plan.
This is the part where I get crucified by my fellow apes, and I am happy to take my licks.
I Believe that if MOASS could happen on the open "fair" market it would have in 2021 and again last week.
I believe that the only way to have MOASS is away from Aladdin, halts and dark pools. we must completely be out of the bog of eternal stench.
THE WORLD saw first hand last week, and it was maybe even for our benefit, that MOASS cannot happen in the fair market exchange with halts and the opposition illegal tactics.
So either GME cleans up the entire system that was created to work against us and take our homes, businesses and lives. Or we see what's in the box. (couldn't find the kitty "seven" meme)
I think that Kitty and the gang know this and we are all getting our tendies in a different way and Its bigger than we ever thought possible, BEAR with me please.

How would you communicate if anything you said was used against you? Ever had to prove you are human?

You see Aladdin and its bitch Ais ( I'm talking to you Aladdin, fuck you) can't understand memes, A computer does not know why Dickbutt is funny. SO the hedgies have weaponized social media against us with bots and AI. Anything you say or do is a product they can use against you, your words have value and sometimes determine what happens to your favorite stock.
Hence the Kitty Aladdin Meme
"They are fast but I am faster" Aladdin is the bad guy here. Go watch it again. "all you got to to is jump".
IF MOASS CANT HAPPEN ON THE fair MARKET THEN WHY ARE YOU SO HANDSOME AND CHIPPER?
Because of genetics and the filing of a document (prospectus supplement) and the EARLY preliminary earnings report.
It is not very common that earnings reports are released early. Very much less common that they are released early WITH A LOSS.
There was a big chunk of money "missing" "lost", where did it go?
Well put on your tin hat as this is what keeps me up at night.
KITTY/GME/TEDDY HOLDINGS/? wanted us to put together that they are creating a huge holding company conglomerate and we will be in it trading our shares for something that is shielded from the market manipulation of Aladdin.
The "missing" money is a hint along with the filing. The "LOSS" on the earnings report had the wonderful effect of triggering the algo to kick into gear and short the shit out of our beloved GME.
THIS MADE THE HEDGIES HIT THE LOWEST PRICE THEY COULD MAXIMIZING PROFIT GAINS FOR THOSE OF US NOT CHEATING THE SYSTEM
They used their own algorithm against them to put another nail in the coffin. I still am in shock from the move, bravo!!!
So what's it all mean?
I believe that Gmerica/TEDDY HOLDINGS (and others) has already been created, that the "missing" money was used in the deals. These were probably set in motion years ago, and cannot be stopped now.
For every 1 GameStop share, they'll get 4 of Another company they made the deal with. And for every 4 GameStop shares, they'll get 7 of say Shit, shower and shave shares, for example. (a real possibility, if you know you know)
This happens between companies attempting to purchase each other using stock as the currency.
As for the holders they will likely get to swap out their shares for the shares in the new massive holding company.
I think that we will be trading our stocks in for shares with blockchain attached and we will be shielded from market manipulation. (tin foil straight up guess)
Lets say this happens and they give a dividend. That would trigger THE MOTHERFUCKER OF ALL SHORT SQUEEZES. the MFOASS™
Oh and to get really APE kicked in the face here, since we would no longer need to lock the float to prove to some bought worthless politician, that they are doing something illegal DRS becomes less important. I say this having another 200 shares headed to the purple circle so be gentle.
Since they create shares from nothing then it does not matter how many are Street named.
I still say buy, hodl, DRS. but read the prospectus supplement. If I'm right it does not matter what you broker you use, you are in.
Add in the new CAT (consolidated audit trail) system although still controlled by shitheads and we have ourselves more than a few tendies. Which jives with GME and kitty not leaving any ape behind, not a one. I think the leaning forward meme is when it became active.
WHAT IS THE BEST PART?
The best part is that the companies that would comprise this conglomerate will include SSSY, Lego, Chewy, sax 5th ave and many others (in the memes) and it would rival amazon. Only less heartless and possibly even a decent wage.
Many of the stores that we would have in the holding companies were shorted into oblivion by the very assholes that we are revolting against.
Sweeet Sweet JUSTICE!
.... what I am saying is that...
oooo look a penny...
QH
On your left.
EDITED for her pleasure.