Express feelings quotes

I think I'm too attached to my bf. I think about him so often, almost 24/7. I'm always fawning over him and I express that a lot. Since he doesn't have bpd or anything, he doesn't love me the same way. That makes me split on him over little things, drives me insane. I'm not mean, I keep all my hurtful words in my head, but I'll be more distant or quiet than usual. My heart starts hurting so much.
I know he loves me but I just love him more than what's normal. I always want him around and he seems to be okay whenever we aren't together. I go crazy though, and I let him know that in a playful manner so it doesnt seem like a guilt trip. It just doesn't feel fair. How do I stop depending on his presence so much to stay sane? I don't want to rely on him, I know he's my partner but it makes me feel fucking pathetic. I want to be comfortable without him too. All I can think to do is to distance myself and talk to him less, spend time alone more often. Try to make friends too since I don't really have anyone to talk to other than him. Is that the right thing to do? It hurts me to do that.

Mildly crackhead theory time, But I can't be the only one who's thought in this direction before. If im about to get WOB'd, so be it.
TLDR: The core of my theory is that Hoid is attempting to reform Adonalsium. But there's a lot of different routes this could go.
Now, I haven't read 100% of cosmere as it stands, dragonsteel hasn't entered my radar, and im missing several secret projects that I believe are Cosmere. Obviously spoilers for everything else, including TheSunlitMan.
Firstly, Hoid clearly has some kind of long game plan. Consistently he has shown to think ahead whenever we get a good view of him. Almost everything he does feels as if it goes exactly to his plans. Not quite everything... but most of the time he's clearly in control of the situations he's involved in. He definitely has strong forsight, and I believe a BIG portion of that is due to the dawnshard he held, even if he doesn't seem to have shardic level of foresight. Man's entire purpose has pretty much been to help steer people's paths, or should I say Boulders down the paths he thinks is best for them.
Secondly, Hoid has expressed regret for the shattering, and watching his friends or at least comrades overtime be corrupted has certainly bothered him. Even if he feels it was needed during his actions in assisting the cosmere.
Thirdly, Throughout his time Hoid has clearly been actively collecting investiture from every shard he can manage we know he has a bead of Lerasium, Atium, Yolen Lightweaving as well as Rosharan Lightweaving, and Awkaning. Ofcourse he also held a Dawnshard and It's not unlikely he has more than that, in which we simply haven't seen far or I'm forgetting. It could be possible that part of his plan is to form a connection between all these different forms of investiture within himself.
Fourthly, I feel it's common enough that I don't need to dive into depth about the theory that the cosmere is heading towards a possible reformation of adonalsium from his shards. Harmony being one of the clearest indications, the Iriali people and their religion being another.
Fifthly, and this is full on crackhead mode. While Hoid may have sworn to not take up a shard, iirc, the belief in your oaths and especially the way you perceive them is important. Hoid will manipulate the shards into re-connecting with each other over time until they're read to form one again, himself being the vessel. I don't have enough evidence to feel confident in this fifth part... but my gut is too strongly committed to not put it in. It could be equally likely he's simultaneously searching for the right person to take up Adonalsium's whole, or it could even be possible Adonalsium doesn't need a vessel at all.
Anyways, what do y'all think?

Hello! As I stated above, I (26F) have had feelings for (27M) for almost 17 years.
For context to my question, here is a little bit of background:
Over these last 17 years, we have had friendly interactions, but nothing more than that. Nothing flirty or indicative of any sort of interest, on either of our parts.
Growing up, our mothers were friends, so we would be drug along with them to outings together, but when we reached middle school and high school, we never hung out on our own volition.
After high school he moved to another state, while I remained in our home city.
Over the last, I'd say 7 years, our really only interaction has been every year, on our birthday's, we get a text from the other person to say happy birthday and ask how the other is doing with a short text conversation. To this, i'll add, he did mention he put my birthday in his phone calendar so that he doesn't forget it, which I thought was very cute.
We always like each others posts on instagram/ facebook but never any commenting.
I, for the last 6 years was in a relationship, and even was engaged up until last October. My friend had texted me congratulations after I posted about the engagement on instagram. More recently, I was seeing someone we had went to high school with, and to make a long story short, I had texted my friend about this guy as I was seeing. They played sports together in high school and I was curious what he knew about him as he was a very strange guy. All that to say, my friend now knows I'm no longer engaged and am dating.
He was in a relationship with the last post from either of them being in March. And now has single as his facebook status.
Now here is the interaction in question:
2 weeks ago, I graduated from college. He texted me a very sweet congratulatory message and telling me how proud of me he was. This turned into a 3 day texting conversation back and forth. Ending last Saturday morning at 5 am. We discussed his career, my career goals, where he is moving, where I am planning on moving. But very platonic, no flirting or any mildly flirty texts.
We did however express mutual job path interests, and a mutual interest in moving to somewhere where we can buy land and have animals.
And, this following week, he has liked 2 things I posted on instagram/ facebook. But nothing out of the ordinary for him.
So my question here is, is it strange that after years of just birthday texts, we stay up texting until 5 am. Is there anything there? Could he be interested in me, but because I never have acted flirty towards him, he thinks I'm not interested? Or is this just a weird few days of texting we had that I need to get over?
I also understand I could just tell him how I feel but I really do not want to ruin the friendship.
Thank you all in advance!

Hello everyone.
I (25f) have a very difficult time expressing what I need to people I love. Whenever I do try to ask for what I need, I come across as cold or very harsh and it has sometimes lead to arguments. I am getting better at telling people what I don't need, especially when it comes to drawing boundaries and telling people that I care about them but I am too tired or worn out to speak to them.
When it comes to me asking; I've often found myself going onto AI "companions" like Bing where I type out what I want to say but ask the AI to make it come across as kinder or gentler. I change the answer a bit, and then send it through that way. It's worked for the most part, and I have learned a lot from doing this but I still struggle greatly and at times it feels inauthentic, it's still my message(s) expressing exactly what I'm trying to say- but a lot of it is just from AI.
For some additional context, I'm autistic and have also dealt with different kinds of abuse previously, with PTSD as well. Because of this- I often have great difficulty communicating in general, and previously whenever I'd try to express a need I have to people I care about whether it's partners, friends or clients, I'd been met with a lot of anger, guilt or blame. I've cut a lot of these people out. The people I do have around me are very understanding and caring though so this is very helpful.
How else can I get better at asking for what I need? Or how can I practice sounding gentler when asking?
Any guidance is appreciated 🙏

Hey,
So I just want some unbiased feedback from people regarding if my cousins were abused growing up. They both would insist they weren't, but the older one (27F same age as me) is currently in rehab for alcohol abuse after her 3rd DUI after moving across the country to California by herself. She's made a LOT of bad decisions over the years but she used to be my best friend when we were younger... I know she's suffered from ana/bul for a long time and had a miscarriage when we were 13. She has openly had issues with her dad (my uncle) since we were teens, but has verbalized for the last few years on and off that "nobody cares about her" and "her family treats her like shit"...
My younger cousin (24M) I currently live with and love to absolute pieces but he's also been through a lot. His parents kicked him out during covid at the age of 20 with no job because they were moving almost 2 hours away and wanted to live child free. I've expressed many a time how shocking this was to my cousin when he told me about it and it severely changed my overall outlook on my aunt and uncle. He couch surfed for years off and on until I was able to get him a job working with me and he was able to move in with me and my best friend. We've lived together for over a year now and things were overall happy but recently he's been dealing with a lot again. My best friend and my cousin are both queer and a messed up situation occurred on the Grindr app between the two of them, but long story short my best friend ended up coordinating a voyeur event involving my cousin.
This has caused shock waves throughout the house obviously and my cousin has every right to be extremely upset. After a lot of confusion, some things were cleared up from the extra person that was involved with this and it was proven that my best friend did not touch my cousin. This does NOT change the fact that the entire situation was effed up and orchestrated, but I do believe with intense therapy for both of them that something can be worked out...
However, I also do not believe that with all of the stuff going on with my cousin that he had any right to lash out at me in the car for explaining how I feel like our coworkers are harassing me at work. For context, my cousin is into edgelord dumb alt right style comedy and likes to make transphobic, homophobic, racist, etc jokes at work sometimes. The trade field I am in is almost all men, and I am one of two women in our whole shop. There were more before, but after the last one quit for a different job, all these jokes have just gotten SO much worse. I constantly feel like I am getting egged on for my reaction, one example was last week i was told I should "get stung by a bee for the experience" after talking about how my grandma was deathly allergic. This kind of things been happening almost weekly since January and I vented to my cousin in the car ride home (I give him car rides almost every work day) and he just absolutely blew up on me.
He screamed about how I need to "Get the eff over it", how he has to tell me like it is because when I get upset it ruins the whole vibe for him and he just wants to have fun at work. I told him that edgy jokes are fun when theyre NOT pointed directly at someone and he just wouldnt put himself into my shoes and continually told me to get thicker skin. There was a lot more that was said but long story short, he basically cannot accept that he could be wrong in this situation and even if it was all jokes, if it hurts someone its not worth making them.
I know that's how he was raised, his dad specifically gives no effs about equality, "woke culture", etc and they've always been VERY well off their whole lives so my cousins feel that anybody who has trauma or gets upset about "little things" need to suck it up because that's what their parents told them. My uncle still calls depression "the dark place" I do know that he's currently in therapy but I fear that the damage to his kids is too far gone. My dad (my uncle's brother) died in 2010, and my mom is a single mom whos been working at a grocery store for 41 years but can still find time to love and empathize with her child. She was also very upset to hear that my cousin was kicked out during covid and she bought him a queen size mattress to sleep on while he stayed at her house with my sister for a few months before moving in with me.
I just want to know the best way to move forward with my cousins. The older one in California I fear is a lost cause, she's been told to move back home so many times and she just wont... The cousin that I live with didn't come home last night after our blow up because I texted him setting my boundaries going forward (not allowed to use my coffee and no more rides to work) and texted back shooting off things to hit below the belt (like my weight, how I am "rotting" because I dont go out and see friends every night like he does, etc.) I want to be there for him because of all the things he is going through but I also need to protect my peace.
Thoughts?

I’m going through a very similar off and on dynamic with someone who I love very much and have hurt via the same socially anxious and avoidant behaviors. I relate far 2 much to Connell. I suppose I’m ruminating and have a narcissistic desire to feel seen and validated and not feel alone in my struggles.
Book recs don’t necessarily have to be a romance/couple dynamic but just anything you might recommend to someone who finds it very difficult to express themselves and connect their feelings. Someone who is struggling with isolation and being far too passive, and overall not knowing who they are or making sense of it all.

https://www.rockpapershotgun.com/the-narrative-had-to-be-baked-into-the-corridors-marc-laidlaw-on-writing-half-life
This is an article about Half Life writer Marc Laidlaw. Here are some quotes from Marc Laidlaw:
“I’d seen bits and pieces of the levels they were working on, but as soon as I heard the name, I just got this amazing buzz,” Laidlaw says. “I could see the whole world they were aiming at somehow, and I felt it was a collective vision."
“Really good level design tells its own story. You don’t need NPCs popping up to tell you what to do if your visual grammar is clear enough. Then when characters do pop up, they can say lines of dialogue that make them feel like characters instead of signposts.”
“It’s important to say that every story we did was a thing we discovered along the way, as a team, and not as something I had an idea for and somehow drove people to execute,” he says. “The only way to figure out the story for a Half-Life game was to make the game. There’s no reason to think a thing I put down on paper was going to bear any relation to a final product.”

this is going to be a lengthy post. i have only posted here on reddit once, so forgive me for any mistakes.
as the title says, my best friend cut me off for no reason. for some context, this happened just a couple days before our high school graduation, which was today, 05/18.
i guess this started on thursday, which was the day of our senior picnic my high school organized. since she was in an ap exam for the first half of the picnic, she showed up late as she had mentioned she would before. my other friend (who is also one of our best friends, we have a trio as well as another friend group) and i show up and join a group of friends to sit with. after about 30 minutes, my best friend shows up.
she stayed for 5 minutes. five. minutes. she said one thing, which was just a question about my english class. i responded to her, and she went on her phone for the short time she was there. the conversation was steered towards her multiple times, but she acted uninterested. to be clear, she wasn’t angry - she was very friendly the entire time although she only spoke once.
suddenly she gets up, announces she’s going to the bathroom in a friendly tone, and she never comes back. multiple friends and i text asking her where she went, to which she told us she had left. when my other friend asked her why, she said she didn’t want to text the reason why and would rather speak in person? everybody was confused.
i give her some time to cool down, and later i text her asking if she is upset about something. no response. days go by, still nothing. so, i send one more text saying if she’s angry about something then that is okay, but i want her to communicate it instead of ignoring everybody. still nothing and now it is the night after our graduation ceremony.
she skipped our good friend’s grad party, skipped a hang out our friend group planned, and is ignoring everybody but the other best friend i had mentioned before that she wanted to “talk to privately”. she didn’t meet with us for photos with our caps and gowns, didn’t clap for me when my name was called, nothing.
my best friend has a history of losing people. i never pried or looked into it since it was from her past, but so many people i talk to have some issue with her. i’m trying to not take it personally as more and more people express the same thing happened to them with her. it just hurts because this is 4 years down the drain over something that i don’t know. i’ve never lost a friend before, i don’t think i have ever even argued with a friend before so this is all very new to me. my friend group is very supportive and has given me a shoulder to lean on, but it hurts. if she cared about the friendship, i thought she would work with me instead of against me.
i just don’t get it. we were talking that morning before her exam and everything was normal. to me, her ignoring me shows she never really valued the friendship or cared for me enough. i just feel so heartbroken.

When I was a teen, I had this severe gender dysphoria and I was confused. I wanted to transition and I used to bind my chest. I felt like I had “two genders”. As my existing turmoil stabilized and I no longer hated my body passionately, I tried to be “girly”. Dress like a girl. Act like a girl. Be feminine. It was all supression really. I was lying to myself. I do not identify with the binary classification of a woman. And suppressing what I feel takes its toll on my mental health.
Even if I manage to hide it, it slips through my outwards expression … sometimes with what I wear.. my androgynous looks. My mannerisms.
My brain/psyche kinda feels intersex. What am I?

Hey everyone,
I'm reaching out because I've recently started integrating an alt/emo wardrobe inspired by Oli Sykes and his clothing line Drop Dead. However, I'm facing some mixed views from my friends and significant pushback from my parents.
My friends seem unsure about my new style, which I understand since it's a departure from what they're used to seeing me wear. However, I'm particularly concerned about my parents' reactions. They've expressed that they think my alt/emo look comes off as tacky, lazy, and messy, and they've even suggested that it shows I don't care about my appearance.
I'm struggling to understand why my style choices are receiving such negative feedback, especially since I feel confident and comfortable in my new wardrobe. I value my parents' opinions, but I also want to express myself authentically through my clothing choices without feeling judged or misunderstood.
I'd love to hear from others who have experienced similar pushback when exploring a new style, especially within the alt/emo scene. How did you handle it? And does anyone have any advice on how to navigate these conversations with friends and parents, while staying true to myself?
I’ve added a hyperlink to the brand if you’re unfamiliar with this style.
Looking forward to hearing your thoughts and experiences!

I've not identified as Christian for at least two years. However, I started going back to church semi regularly at a very progressive UMC. Church is a regularly scheduled activity that has social aspects and something akin to group cathartic expression in worship, and some meditative elements as well. I feel more ordered and grounded attending, but I also don't enjoy the religious content. Also I have young children and I don't want them indoctrinated with Christian teachings, even from a progressive standpoint. Any suggestions for worthwhile groups or activities to replace this source of weekly rhythm/structure and social support.

I'm 19M, studying Finance in college. I failed Accounting for the 3rd time, and I've failed a Financial Management subject as well. This is not my aptitude or my interest.
I don't know which career to pursue post graduation. What do I do? I am confused. I feel that I have no interest.
Maybe Law, or media/marketing. My gut says Law but my mom says it's not a good career at all(I keep hearing that people get stressed and busy a lot in a legal career).
I'm a people person, I like interacting with people. But I also enjoy my alone time a lot. I play guitar, read books.
I am good at 1) reading 2) writing 3) communication/expression/public speaking 4) arguing pointlessly(lol) 5) not a numbers fan 6) just want a good happy life and a career that I love.
Please help me. Thank you.

1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

I have commented here a few times but never posted. It's long so i get if you dont want to read. I just have some feelings to let out! I've been with my(27f) SO(29m) for 4 years. He has a son(12) whom I met when he was 8. I am child free and have no interest in being a mother myself. However, I felt being a stepmom/cool aunt would be fine bc I don't have that big of an issue with kids and my SO only has SK EOWE (he now keeps SK 3 weekends a month bc SO's mother can't not stick her nose where it isn't wanted) I made the mistake of trying to be too helpful at the beginning of our relationship bc I am a people pleaser who didn't know better and wound up being main caregiver every weekend SK was here due to SO's excuse of having to work. For a little while it was fine bc SO had started a new, very fruitful and life changing job and I wanted to help him succeed and i was under the impression after a while he wouldnt be expected to work them as much. I picked up SK from BM's house after my own long day/week at work every weekend my SO had custody, I would pick up food for SK, even paid for groceries for SK when SO failed to get any for the weekend, cleaned up messes and was the only ear around for SK to yap into oblivion. HUGE MISTAKE!!! After a while (like 2.5 years) of this going on, no thanks or appreciation and then getting criticism from SO's father for literally parenting SK when no one else was, I threw my hat down and said I'm done taking care of SK for SO and would step back. Last year I had started to slowly nacho and do less and less as my resentment towards both SK and SO grew larger. At this point in time, SO was CHOOSING to work these weekends instead of being required to; and choosing to pick up extra OT (an extra 8 hours on top of the 16 he is working that weekend) on some of these weekends while taking off on weekends we didnt have SK. This grinded my gears and I had a discussion with SO about how unfair it is to expect me to be completely responsible for SK when I am not his parent. That resulted in SO's mother taking SK for one weekend a month and SO apologizing and saying he won't do that anymore. Now, maybe I should have been more clear, but SO took this to mean that he could work these weekends, but no OT. That is not what I meant. I meant for SO to not work when he has SK. It came to a big head when just 2 weeks after we had our initial discussion, SO texts me from work telling me he not only had signed up for the weekend, but asked for an additional 12 HOURS that weekend since it would be extra pay for working on a holiday without talking to me on a SO custody weekend. He had the audacity to tell me "dont be mad." I lost it. I told him that this behavior was disrespectful to me and a huge slap in the face given the conversation we practically just had a fortnight ago. He apologized, said he won't do it again but it wasnt good enough for me until i saw real, consistent change. I told SO he needs to get his mother to watch SK that weekend because I will not be doing it. He tried but SO's mom was out of town. I was pissed and told him if it happened again there would be a serious change in our relationship, either I move out or we split and that he will be making up for this for a long time. Things were fine for a little over a month. SO was taking off weekends he had SK like I asked and had someone watch SK if SO wanted to work. All is good. Then this weekend came. SO signed up this weekend despite SK coming over and didn't communicate with me. I was mad but kept quiet, when I shouldn't have. Today we were talking and deciding whether to go workout today since if we did we would have to rush around before SO had to leave for work. SO said something along the lines of: SO: "what do you want, then?" Me: "for you to not go to work tonight." SO: "So we can go to the gym?" Me: "Yea....among other things.." I think he knew what I meant. I could tell his tone got defensive. I know that was passive aggressive of me but tbh we had been having some rough times lately and I was so tired of being frustrated with him so it just kinda came out. I told him the same things I had been saying: not my kid so why am I expected to take care of him? I don't mind helping but I am not SK's mother or father, he has those. This did not bode well in SO's brain because even though I stayed level headed to express myself, he immediately jumped on the defensive, got loud and told me that since I am at home that it "shouldn't be too much to expect me to watch his kid." And just no. Absolutely not. I DID NOT PUSH THIS KID OUT OF ME OR BUST A NUT IN THE WRONG PLACE!! I put my foot down and I told him straight up I did not get into this relationship to be anybody's mother and if that is what he expected of me then we will not work. After A LOT of getting him to calm down🙄🙄🙄 he began to understand what I was saying(Or at least put on a damn good show of it if not). I tried my best to make him feel that I do not hate or really even dislike his son or wish him to be gone(I prefer Sk not be here but it is what it is and I try not to have SK feel that way bc it's not his fault) but I am very resentful of the amount of work I have put in and am expected to do for a child I did not have and isnt my responsibility. I also sited his lack of communicating efficiently with me about his work schedule. I said I know I get visibly irritated when SK comes over and SO decided to ask "well if I do this will your attitude towards SK change?" Which like...what bad faith question honestly. I told him "yea, most likely, with time and consistency from you." Overall, we are doing well as of right now and I feel like things are slowly changing, which is good. Not exactly how I wanted but that's reality, ya know? I love SO very much. He is an amazing partner and is the only place I have felt safe in my life. His child is just a really tender spot for us as SO does not want to be a father but feels stuck. I understand that but we have to wake up to our reality and not just push responsibilities off onto others. I hope things will continue to get better from here but I also wouldn't be surprised if this is what eventually breaks us up if we spilt ever. Apologies for the length. I've had a lot of feelings for a while and don't have anywhere to let it out but this subreddit has really helped me understand my own feelings and feel less like I'm the bad guy for how I feel.

My birthday, hooray, May 19th. Wow another half year, gone within an instant, fucking appalling. How time can move faster than I can exist is unbelievable, whatever, fuck it, i'm useless. I live vicariously throughout the trenches of Reddit's brain rot and isolate myself within the walls of my rusted cell, only escaping restraint when I feel like existing. My life is a fucking joke, I'm barely pubescent and my life feels like it's already done, I don't know how much longer I can take. Barely beginning my life and already have a criminal record, pathetic, a disappointment is how you could describe my life. I'm a fucking loser, I just get the short end of the stick every time, every single time in my life, i genuinely can't describe a moment in my life where i didn't. If you're wondering, the charges were for threats against my school, yeah, I'm not the victim, I'm a fucking piece of shit, but I'll still play it. These manipulative, self-centered, downright malicious and utterly foul robots known as the "Feds" really fucked my life over, they arrested me, threw me in a cell for a day, made me sign some bullshit forum "don't be around guns", "don't go to school" yeah yeah, fuck you bums. Yeah I made the threats sure, but then they say shit like "express your feelings!" "talk about your thoughts!" except what they don't say is that when you do we'll handcuff you, throw you in a police cruiser and refrain you from going to school, so any chance of you ever having a meaningful education or occupation will be utterly erased, so that's great, I'll just be the part-time janitor of a condom factory. That's ridiculous. The teachers at my school always target me, once I got sent to the office and had to work in that miserable cesspool for that day for eating the rest of my chocolate bar I had at lunch on the way outside, unfucking believable, or when I got sent to the office for "getting in a fight" some fucking alien headed kid twice my size tried to fight me because I "was kicking rocks at him" (I wasn't, the worms in his brain were probably just eating faster that usual). And so I attempted to defuse the situation by asking him what the fuck he wanted to fight for and then eventually walked away. I went to the office because the kid's brother said he would jump me and the office looked me dead in the face and said "yeah, but you were on the wrong side of the yard" (this was during covid and there were sides of the yard we had to stay on and yes, i was on the wrong side but that had nothing to do with him antagonizing me and wanting to fight me). Put yourself in my shoes here, some kid you don't know wants to fight you and then his brother says he'll jump you, so you go to the teachers for help and they pretty much just say, sorry lil bro, not today. So, the teachers hate me, the students hate me and everyone expects you to go to school everyday, be on your best accord and not lash out... Do you not think that affects me mentally? So yeah, just arrest me and not solve the violence and fighting problem nor drug problem at my school and just fuck me over. fuck you, fuck the feds, fuck life, fuck everything, you'l all be sorry and regret this shit.

In proper English said "niece" is my second cousin once removed who lives a couple hours' flight from me. But in my culture "once removed" is the same as niece/nephew or aunt/uncle, so I will refer to this 16-year-old girl as Niece.
I am very close to her mother, my second cousin (42F). She recently flew in to attend a funeral in our family. While staying with me I learned that Cousin intends to move out tonight and file for divorce this coming week.
Cousin does have an affair and is leaving for her AP. In general I usually oppose affairs vehemently, as I have survived my own father's affair and know how it hurts the family. But please refrain from judging my cousin, because the point of my post is about what I could do to support her daughter, rather than debating the morality of my cousin's infidelity.
With proper context, I understand why Cousin went there. She's been enduring chronic emotional abuse from her own STBXH (43M) including rape, and being silenced and shamed for grieving for her father who died earlier this year.
Cousin has had trouble leaving because like many survivors of abusive marriages it takes time and enormous effort and willpower to pull off leaving. Not to mention that she and STBXH run a business together and have been striving to brave a presentable face for their delicate professional network.
Cousin's marriage has been dead for years, but before she managed to completely pull off leaving, her AP came into the picture and catalysed her exit. While I would never condone cheating to betray a loving spouse, I do find myself sympathetic to this particular grey area, especially because I see that the AP happens to have goals, values and capabilities that align with what Cousin needs in order to pursue a fulfilling future and not live the rest of her life as a zombie in an undead marriage.
Cousin has informed her 21-year-old son of the upcoming divorce and her affair. Although Nephew is a devout Christian who in principle does not condone divorce and affairs, he understands that this marriage has killed his mother's spirit, and he supports whatever his mother needs to do in order to reclaim her own autonomy, confidence and identity. He promises to look out for his sister in this difficult and potentially traumatising transitional period. He also told his mother that he loves her no matter what, though he is also honest and firm about boundaries like being unwilling to meet the AP because he does feel that AP has robbed him of his mother.
Niece has not been informed of what is about to happen in the coming days, and my heart breaks for her. Like her older brother, she is an intelligent and hard working young person with big dreams for her future, and a good heart. And I know she also loves her mother to the moon and back. My heart breaks for her because she will be blindsided by her parents' upcoming divorce.
Despite the marriage troubles, Cousin describes STBXH as an otherwise good father and provider. He will contest the fault divorce, but Cousin will offer him a full share of the house and custody of their daughter, because she will be moving to the countryside for her next job.
My Aunt (Cousin's motheNiece's grandmother) also lives in Cousin's STBXH's house, but will also be blindsided by this upcoming divorce. Aunt is a good person who I know will do her best to support her granddaughter, but she will also struggle with her own grief and strong emotions, and often speaks unfiltered before thinking.
While Cousin was staying with me, I addressed preparing Niece with some other good key people in her support system. I suggested hooking Niece up with a psychologist to see on a fortnightly or monthly basis so that she has a reliable adult figure to help her process her complicated emotions in a non-judgmental safe space, develop healthy coping skills and overcoming strategies, disarm traumas before they have a chance of festering, and gets empowered by someone who can model reclaiming her identity and self-worth in a world that's changing overnight.
I also offered to check in with Niece and to be there for her through this difficult transitional period.
I'm not half as close to Niece as I am to her mother, but we are on friendly terms. My ex husband is a novelist/filmmaker and my Niece is a huge fan of his, so at one point she texted me lovely compliments and expressed enthusastic interest in my ex's newer works-in-progress. I also offered her words of support when her now late grandfather was hospitalised and her family moved to his city to care for him.
I guess this brings me to my questions. Because I care about my Cousin, I'm interested in contributing to Niece's support system by offering to be there for her as a safe adult she can trust and approach anytime for perspective, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on and a voice of reason. What can I do for a teenage girl in my extended family who is going through a parents' divorce blindsided?
For those of you who have been in these aunty/uncle shoes before, what are some do's and don'ts and key lessons you have learned from your experience?
And for those of you who survived parents' divorce as blindsided teenagers, who were the best safe adults in your support system at the time, and what did they do for you? Or if you weren't as lucky, what kind of support did you wish you had, and what do you wish adults in your life back then did differently?
Finally, what can I do to facilitate recovering my niece's love and respect for her parents in spite of their faults and her anger and grief about it?
Thank you!

20F, i'm a (cis) woman but for some reason i feel like i'm not "enough of" a woman. i'm not at all insecure or questioning in my gender identity- i WANT to be a woman. i just feel like i'm not enough of one, if that makes sense. i constantly compare myself to other girls and i feel like all other women are in on this wonderful female-solidarity type girl code and i just can't get in on it. i'm not exceptionally tomboyish or anything like that; i definitely dress in a more feminine manner most of the time. i dealt with a lot of bullying growing up at an all-girls school and i feel like that might have something to do with it. i try as hard as i can to feel included with other women but i just can't. i've had many a crisis over this lol so pls help? even if it's just a bit of reassurance or psychoanalysis? is this common to all women/girls and i'm just overreacting? :')
P.S. this is NOT at all meant to sound like a "uwu not like other girls" or pick-me post in the slightest. i absolutely recognize the impact that internalized misogyny and other societal norms have on our conceptions of how we relate to other women and i am not at all attempting to put down other girls or distance myself from them, simply expressing my own experience!

I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

What’s your chosen practice? What teachings/techniques do you follow? What’s your daily routine, duration etc ? Tips, Feelings, Emotions?
Just inquisitive & would love to connect, learn and just use this space for others to express and share :)

"....... The war affected my Master in ways I couldn't see at the time, yet it was her actions during the war that cloud my memory of her. Perhaps I was selfish, so focused on my own pain and feelings of injustice that I couldn't see she was suffering the same as I was. Perhaps she was able to deal with it in a far more healthy way. Or perhaps instead it burned her out on the inside to the point where she didn't care anymore or was force to surround herself with doctrine.
I don't know, and I don't know if I want to know as then I could not longer hope it was the better answer. I try to hold onto the memories of her before the war, a warmer, kinder woman, a mother like figure who's advice in hindsight, I wish I had followed more often.
While most would ascribe my political views to that of my father, Senator Fi Lor who's Senate seat I now hold. My political philosophy surprisingly came from my Jedi Master in a way. It was a consistency in her view of power.
During a discussion on the Dark Side, my Master stated something profound to me, something I internalized and ensured that I remembered. The quote, as best I can remember is this.
"Barriss, remember this: Power wants to be used. It must be kept under constant vigil, else it will seduce and corrupt you. One moment you’re swatting an annoying training toy; the next you’re paralyzing an offending being’s lungs and choking him to death. You do it because you can. It becomes an end in itself. As a Jedi, you live always on this edge. A single misstep, and you can fall to the dark side. It has happened to many, and it is always a tragedy. As with an addictive drug, it’s too easy to say, ‘I’ll do it just this once.’ That’s not how it works. The only thing that stands between you and the dark side is your own will and discipline. Give in to your anger or your fear, your jealousy or your hate, and the dark side claims you for its own. If that happens, you will become an enemy to all that the Jedi stand for and an enemy of all Jedi who hold to the path of right."
I asked her if she had ever given into the Dark Side, and she admitted she had on one occasion, I asked what it was it was like and if it would feel evil. She said no, said it would feel good, empowering, satisfying, and worst of all, it would feel right and justified, and that was the danger.
She was right, not just about the Dark Side but about power in general.
Had I listened and processed that at the time, perhaps so much pain I have inflicted could have been avoided, or perhaps not, the Force is mysterious like that, but It did not take the power of Dark Side to bomb the temple, nor to do any part of my plan or subsequent attempts to repair the situation. In fact, I made sure of it, yet, despite not using the power of the Dark Side, I fell into it, the trap, the drug.
I have used the Dark Side many times since then, trusting my own discipline and restrictions to keep me from falling deeper, tapping into a dangerous fire, every time more addicting and every time more tempting to throw away my restrictions that limit it, every time it always feels like the right solution, the only solution, it is essential, it must be done or else something worse will happen, just give in again, take another dose of power and you can solve whatever issue lies in front of you.
It is not just with the Force. It is any power. The power of a politician to force people to comply with their vision, the power of a business-leader to abuse their workers. The power of a parent over their child, the president of a home owners association, a landlord, a reporter, even how we treat animals. Power must be kept under constant vigil and no one in power is immune to the temptation of abusing it, we must actively choose every day to resist it and ensure our path is true, it is often harder, but is the right way and in the long run, that is what will matter.
I could be considered a recovering addict in a way, no matter what I do and how long I live I will always be fighting the urge to relapse. And like a recovering addict, I am often ashamed of my actions and seek to prevent others from falling into the same path as I once walked. Having walked it, I can honestly say that the benefits never outweighed the cost.
My Master's Saber now sits on my shelf at eye level, and looking at it I wonder what she would think of me. Should I care? Had she lived would the mother like figure I knew before the war return with peace, or was her true nature the cold and harsh one I saw during the war?
I miss her still."

Before I begin I just wanna say that I made this late at night and I’m not that good with expressing my words so if something leaves you confused just ask your question in the comments
I have yearned for a deep connection with love sense middle school I (18 f) have ADHD(diagnosed) Autism(Diagnosed) and I might have Maladaptive Disorder (I fit certain symptoms but am not Diagnosed) feel in love around that time and dated her for 4 years and then another for 6 months in High School but both times we left on bad terms. 1 for cheating and the other for her just taking a break, and sense then I literally can’t stop thinking and wanting. My wants are mostly just being around them loving them by giving them gifts, hearing them talk, be patient, uplift, admire them and so on so forth. Some of the thoughts are sexual but that’s very rare. My main take away is how do I overcome this, how do I simply live a life were I can do things with my life that don’t involve deep thoughts about exes or this future imaginary lover in my mind, and these daydreams there vivid I mean I have been imaging the same scene over and over again the only difference is that it gets more complex with age, I believe that there maybe a cure which some of you might say hangout with friends or get hobbies or even start to really take your time to live the deeper inner workings of your mind,body and soul. But I lack lots of those, as the pending completion of my high school life is around the corner all my friends have just vanished, some I do kinda talk to but most have ghosted me or just flat out vanished from the internet, my hobbies are only video games but I would love to do more but it’s like my mind with this impending yearning also collides with a deep sense of fear, and same thing with love it also ruins me, everything I do even a simple glance my heart races with a rush of fear and I just wanna overcome or at the least minimize it, when it comes to my fears my daydreams show a darker approach, me being alone permanently, and my face aging but my soul dying a slow agonizing death with each passing moment. I have tried to do a self reflect but it’s deeper then that and sometimes that’s requires an outside source but I’m shy and I don’t talk a lot unless I’m VERY comfortable with people. I just have been longing for things that may or may not happen and im honestly done.
Sorry if this turned into a mess or at least a confusing writing project I just need a place to talk and see others responses cause it’s been a while sense I have contacted another human besides family

Quote of the Day: "Nothing makes one feel so strong as a call for help."