Can you snort a 215 pill

I'm looking for other people who have osteoporosis or osteopenia to share their experience with accutane. How did it impact your joint pain (did you have pain already), do you feel that your pain increased after accutane? Do you feel you can tell if it was worsening with time, or as a result of the medication? I welcome anything else you'd like to share. For example. exercises, additions to your diets, icing your joints etc.
About me: I (27) was diagnosed with osteopenia, cusping on osteoporosis, several months before starting accutane. My dermatologist is aware of my diagnosis, we decided on a low dose as to not worsen my periodic knee pain. Now that I'm on month two I've noticed an increase in pain frequency but it is not more intense and it does not prevent me from doing anything. I notified my derm of the increased frequency.
Treatment: I take a vitamin d and calcium supplement, (in addition to a calcium rich diet). I also take fish oil pills daily. I walk and bike, and am working on incorporating weight bearing exercises.
Thank you in advance.
DisclaimeNote: I'm seeking other people's experiences but I am not trying to replace consult with medical professionals with advice from reddit. I have an endocrinologist and a primary care provider who are running appropriate tests and providing me with sound medical advice. We suspect we know the root cause but are exploring all possibilities.
My endocrinologist stated there isn't conclusive evidence that accutane is harmful for people with low bone density, but there isn't concrete evidence saying it isn't damaging. Essentially it's a possible side effect, like the other +20 side effects.

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

⭐️Sorry if this is long but plz read the full story⭐️
⭐️Pregnancy⭐️
I’ve been seeing this girl for 9 months, and she’s 4 months pregnant (but we knew eachother for 4 years but didn’t know her all to well before) I have my own place, go to school full time, in a coding boot camp, and taking certificates to get better experience for ML(Machine learning) while also providing all the income for us.
⭐️Before pregnancy⭐️
Flashback to 12 months ago I was in the marine corp for 2 years and had to cut my time short due to adhd/ptsd after losing my dream job that I graudated highscool early for I went through a month of extreme depression. After 3 counselors I got better . I was still actively working right after the military for planning ahead and then lost my tech after 4 months job due to the whole company going under. The next day I found out she was pregnant. I believe she should have the choice since it’s her body /and she choose to keep the baby.
⭐️The problem⭐️
The 1st problem was she didn’t want to work and doesn’t have her license that I pushed her to do but can’t do it herself. I have been nice about it I’ve made whole google docs and videos of motivation, applied for jobs for her, let her use my car to learn to drive, been with her to do it, but still doesn’t want to do anything so I gave up after months and months on trying. A counselor would help but her mom doesn’t believe in that so brings in her mind there no point of getting better. She very shy and has anxiety about it and I do feel very bad but I do to still have anxiety to we’re my legs tremble and hands and feet sweat 24/7 near anyone. She adores her mom more than anyone in the world but her mom is a pill popper who hasn’t worked for over 20 years and even refused to work when they were all on the streets. I took her brother and my girlfriend to Disneyland and mind you spent over 20,000 of all of the money I earned from the military from the gifts, vacations places, and food because she has never seen any of this before. I knew they would never have the opportunity see it and deserved to because her dad was not on the picture so they were just living off the government. So what I did was work to make enough money and do my college and extra certificates and experience on top networking to land a good job)
⭐️Uncle⭐️
after one month of this her pedo uncle turned homeless and started living with them REMIND YOU her uncle . ( he attempted to s/a her as a kid) but didn’t succeed. He’s says he all Jesus and all that but u can see right through him that’s just words no action. I believe to respect ur adults and the elderly my manners are how I was raised by……………. But this flipped a switch that never was there. Her mom not doing anything and me knowing things she could do to get rid of him ( I even paid her 2,000 dollars) to get rid of him and nobody did anything and that was when she was pregnant) my girlfriend said she was fine about it and she not much afraid of him and started resenting me because how I felt about her mom and I kept dropping it but I couldn’t stand knowing he was there alone with her some days) So I went to online college and then saved up money to get an apartment to be away from him and did it mind you during this whole thing my main focus was that and getting all my certificates and more experience to be a software engineer but she was still getting mad at me because how I felt about her mother.That I was getting in college that I was also actively going to everyday but started to doing online classes because I didn’t feel safe with her being alone her uncle being there. A month goes by and the uncle TALKS ABOUT HER BOOBS INFRONT OF HER MOM. And I just… idk… the forgiving person that I was trying to see is gone forever after that for her mom….. and yes he is still living there and yes we got the aprartment right after that. But after that she still rensentined me because of how I felt about her mom and now I’m losing feelings for her because of the asking for things knowing I have to take out time for studying to make the money we don’t have but I think I do well doing it tho i like getting her things. I am trying just the money a little tight because I know how much cloud computing can make and all the 3 certificates, and all projects and college im doing but having to pay for the certs. But the way I feel about her mom now ( and I really did try to be so nice I promise and even talked to my counclears about it but that’s just not gonna happen anymore). I loved her so much but the more I think about it , if anything goes bad with money WHICH IS GOING TO HAPPEN she would not even be able to be there for me. (Also I want to say it has never slipped my mind that I would not provide for this child that’s the whole point of doing the college and all that I would rather not but I know what I need to do).
⭐️My day⭐️
I workout two hours a day 6 days a week, study mostly all day and then work when I need to for all the bills and whatever she wants or needs is starting to get to me also I I’m doing some meditation so I can sleep. I’ve tried to spend as much time with her but usually I’m done late and I’m jsut so worn out and then she gets sad becasue I’m tired but I try to take her places every week for the most part and get her food she likes. I feel alone most days and now i would rather watch YouTube or video by myself than with her. And the one time we did take a break which was 2 days she cried all day and her mom said she never left her room, and that’s not right for the baby so I went back to get her. I don’t think she would commit sucicde if we broke up but she says it as a joke but most of the time I can’t take it as a joke( my dad attempted and succeeded when I was 10). But if she did I don’t know how I would live with myself or if her feelings hurt the baby).I’ve read so many books on love and just helpful books but nothing helps much.
⭐️Question⭐️
My question is what should I do?
(Also yes I’m talking to a councilor about this but today was just a little hard.)
(Thank you for all responses have a great rest of your day)❤️.

I think all my problems started somwhere in 2019, when I changed schools for the thousandth time.
During the next change, I got sick and they sent me to the hospital for a week. And idk I think that was the moment that changed everything. It was in 2019. The experience in the hospital was terrible, but more importantly, when I left I felt... idk gentle? Unreal? Everything seemed strange. I was leaving home to go to school. Traveling by bus. Crossing to the other side. Got on the second bus. Came home, go to bed and cried. Day by day.
On the one hand, I started reading more and felt "creative", on the other hand, reality terrified me. Then, thanks to home school, I was able to ignore the symptoms. But over time they began to disturb my interests. I stop reading. In fact, I had a strong feeling that if I touched the book I would destroy it somehow. And if I damage one, the whole collection will collapse.
Then I made friends with someone and that also ended badly, because my paranoia told me more and more strange things. I removed myself from the Internet and spent 2023 tightly locked at home.
Now I have this feeling of unreality again. Sometimes I feel like I'm looking at something, I see words, I understand them, but... at the same time I don't? As if there was a stain in the very center blocking my full view?
I have also been hearing the heartbeat continuously since April. I mean day in and day out. It is in the head, in the hands, in the legs. Thanks to it, my head is a perpetual migraine. My arms and legs are weak. The belly is heavy, as if all the organs had enlarged within a month. I'm shaking and I keep expecting to fall.
All days are the same: I wake up, it's even bearable, I eat, I browse something, I take a bath and... It all begins. The pain sends me straight to bed. And so I sit in it. I can't read books again - comics are the best my brain can handle.
Sometimes I try to walk because I feel a little less tired outside the house, but lately it's been difficult too. My legs feel so heavy, as if I fighting gravity. So. Basically, I'm just waiting for the moment to take a sleeping pill and have a moment of peace.
Last week I was taken to hospital because I was vomiting. They took me in this one because I fainted in the bus. They did the same tests again and said everything was fine and I could go home.
In addition, I have visited many other doctors, but each of them focuses on one small thing and completely ignores the whole thing. Always just "take bibloc", then "drink electrolytes", and then "yes, you had side effects last time, but here's hydroxyzine again”. (And yesterday doctor literally said "yes, this medicine for your blood pressure probably won't help you, but that's okay. I'll give it to you anyway. If you faint again, please come back for more diagnostics :)")
I think everyone is tired of me. Doctors look on and become more and more confused. My mother went from "yes, we need to find a psychiatrist and help you" to "well, you have a small hump on the back of your neck sooo... maybe it's his fault?".
I don't have patience anymore either. I just want screaming. I used to have a bearable life. Why can't I have it now? Will it always be like this?
I feel pathetic.
(Also sorry if anything sounds weird. English is not my first language and I recently took a sleeping pill, so I probably have messed something up. But I really had to vent somewhere :x)

Swordlances and Shield Bros (that actually attack) have gotten a lot of criticism in the BB community, but how bad are they really?
I wanted to find out, so I did a run where I banned most of the meta builds, as well as throwing weapons and close range two handers. I also banned gunners, qatal duelists, mace duelists and cleaver duelists. I also banned berserk and killing frenzy as I wanted to experience the stamina system without relying on berserk recover.
Reach weapons were allowed as their damage is more in line with other weapons. Possibly a mistake though, as they circumvent the weirdness of the stamina system.
Standard pure defense tank builds and normal banner builds were allowed, in order to keep the test focused on the performance of the other builds. Sword duelists were allowed as a filler option for bros without the stamina to do anything else, flail duelists were allowed for guys with bad melee skill.
This started off as a challenge run but it turned into more of a build testing experiment as the off meta builds turned out to be strong enough that it wasn't really much harder than a normal run (until the end). So I fought certain battles multiple times for testing purposes, but still let bros die normally.
Team composition:
4 Attacking Shield Bros, 4-6 frontline Swordlances, 1 Normal Banner, 1 Normal Tank, rest filler in the form of sword duelists & flail duelists. One Shield Bro was also a spearman. Two Swordlances were semi ranged units with around 46 ranged skill and carried crossbows so enemy parties with weak ranged would advance normally. Exact builds in pics.
Team Part 1
.
Team Part 2
Results:
This team actually had a relatively easy time with most fights, getting in ~215 fights by day 149 and finding / buying 33 famed items while only finding a few champions and only buying a few good items. Core bros from early in the game hit level 15. I am not a speed runner or super high fight density player, so that's a decent result for me, which indicates the team was actually surprisingly strong.
Builds:
Frontline Swordlance:
This made up the bulk of my damage. While swordlance has gotten a lot of criticism, frontline swordlance just seems like a good tempo build for most of the game. Aside from gunners, it's simply the easiest way to AOE without requiring high stats or good armor. You can use a daytaler with mediocre starting stats for swordlance, while AOEing with a two hander requires a much better recruit who can survive a fair amount of enemy contact.
Winning against large numbers of humanoid enemies in early high tier camps is largely based on morale checks and getting fearsome procs. Using AOE abilities is a good way to get fearsome procs. Obviously it clears out weaker enemies and that lowers the morale of stronger enemies. But the damage doesn't really fall off too badly until you get to the most heavily armored enemies. It's even fine vs Chosen as you can use the increased reach and mobility to focus fire and get in multiple AOEs and stay out of trouble. Maybe vs later Chosen camps past day 150 that would become more difficult.
In general, with pathfinder + polearm you almost always get at least one attack in and you can focus fire very easily, while keeping your damage bros safe, which goes a long way in terms of tempo compared to other builds that have more dead turns.
Swordlance is also good against beasts like Lindwurms as many beast fights seems to favor the strategy of walk forward, hit with reach weapon, walk out of attack range. You can just AOE the lindwurms down while your damage bros are perfectly safe.
Is it better than Javelins? Probably not, javelins are OP, but it uses a much easier to obtain recruit type and it does have advantages in some fights compared to javelins, as in many of the more risky mid game camps the enemy likely has more range than you, forcing you to advance. Swordlance can simply walk right up to the walls and reap away, while throwers have trouble setting up throwing lanes and one range attackers get clogged up and can't attack.
Swordlance can also invest in a full set of defenses and survivability perks. (That's why it's "Frontline Swordlance".) It doesn't have to waste a scarce backline spot but can safely take contact from even Chosen temporarily, as long as it's not getting swarmed by them. So the more relevant comparison is Swordlance vs Dodge Quickhands. In that comparison Swordlance seems to have a lot of advantages while the disadvantages are minor (especially since in a normal run you can just keep a two handed axe as backup.)
Swordlance damage only really became a problem vs masses of uncontrolled, heavy armor enemies, like if you fight all the Ancient Undead at the same time in Monolith (more on that later). However, in normal fights Ancient Honor Guards aren't challenging due to predictable AI and by day 150 Orc Warriors are still in relatively small numbers and are easily controlled and their morale is easily broken. I guess if you played super late swordlance might start to struggle in some larger camps.
Swordlance build: Poleshield:
Stole this build from this subreddit, thanks! Most of the time he plays as a normal swordlance, but he has the option to swap to a heater shield when he gets stuck in melee and needs the defense. Start with swordlance out, swing (5 ap), swap to shield (4 ap). End turn. Next turn, wait with relentless as shield stays out, swap to swordlance at the end and swing (4 ap + 5 ap). Next turn you will go before slower enemies so you can swing again and put your shield up for the rest of the turn. Most swings hit while shield is up. For most of the game this wasn't needed very often and he instead used a 4 ap weapon as a sidearm so he could dump his stamina into damage as quickly as possible. He tries to stay out of trouble so he doesn't need the shield. However on Monolith or in dangerous situations the shield option did come in handy. One polearm swing per turn isn't great damage, but with AOE it's not horrible and the shield does a lot to keep them alive until they can get out of trouble (can reach 50 defense with dodge). It's also helpful to have the shield out when you use recover.
Swordlance build: Fake Ranged Tempo Poleshield:
If you aren't going to build ranged units, you probably want a couple of fake ranged units, otherwise enemies with minor ranged abilities (like orc young with javelins) won't walk up to you as they normally do. Just take a mediocre ranged recruit with high based ranged skill and get him up to 46 ranged skill, then put the rest of the stats in melee. Start the fight with a crossbow in hand so it's loaded. The AI treats it as a normal ranged unit and will advance normally. You still have to advance if they have a lot of ranged so it's the same as normal runs. He can actually hit quite often with his crossbow vs certain enemies. Bags and belts performed great on these guys but duelist was for a specific weapon and probably shouldn't be taken normally. One died but he had similar stats.
Shield Bros:
While four shield bros that attack plus a tank and a tank banner (who usually just stands there holding the banner) is overkill (or uhh underkill) in terms of low damage defensive units, the shield bros performed surprisingly well in terms of tempo, even though I was never able to find an ideal candidate for a battleforged hammer + shield bro.
In a normal run it often takes a quite a long time to find candidates who can hit a stat line like 85/35 at level 11 to qualify as fatigue neutrals, which means that you can end up with a team full of nimble damage dealers with few defense bros aside from the tanks. That delays your ability to shift to optimal tactics, where the front line is made up of high defense high armor bros who take most of the enemy attacks, while the damage dealers stand in safer positions and try to only get attacked by one enemy at a time.
A unit who wouldn't quite measure up as a fatigue neutral can be made into a Shield Bro instead and he'll have plenty of defense to fill a front line spot and stand up against 3 enemies or more, while still contributing some damage over time.
Probably the most desirable attacking shield bro is a battleforged hammer shield bro, but that only works with high fatigue backgrounds, I didn't get the right recruits for that so I was forced to compromise on my shield bro builds.
Shield Bro Build: Fatigue Neutral Iron Lungs:
Stamina management is a huge problem without access to two handed weapons. Getting attacked by a lot of enemies quickly uses up a lot of stamina and only a small percentage of recruits can have enough stamina to tank in battleforged armor and still swing two times per turn. I never really found many skilled recruits with a high stamina pool like that.
Battleforged is still essential though. Bros with iron lungs can be fatigue neutral and swing certain weapons twice per turn, every turn. Normally that's limited to cleavers and swords, but if you get famed weapons you can expand the list of one handed fatigue neutral weapons. I was lucky enough to get famed weapons for these two, although they were not great ones.
Defensively, these guys performed better than the numbers indicate as they didn't take any bleeds, injuries or fearsome checks. And while their defense is only in the mid 50s with shield, that still makes them significantly tankier than a normal fatigue neutral. Their damage is pretty bad but it adds up in the course of long fights, so I think you'd lose tempo in most fights if you substituted pure defensive tanks. In Monolith they could survive for many rounds tanking up to 7 ancient undead at a time, which nimble or nimbleforged bros could not handle.
With recruiter retinue it makes sense to check a lot of guys for traits anyway and this can be a high impact way to use some guys with iron lungs and mediocre stats. It's a bit niche but I would consider using this build in a normal run, especially if I got an appropriate famed weapon and didn't need a duelist. One of these guys started as a 55*/2* Iron Lungs Daytaler, his performance as a damage sponge + damage over time was solid in this build, but as a duelist he'd have been mediocre and used up a lot of tools. In this run more damage was needed, but in a normal run there is usually a shortage of high defense forged units.
Shield Bro Build: Hammer Shield
One handed Hammer still performs well even without double grip or duelist. Destroy armor still does a lot of armor damage on the appropriate enemies and the regular attack will always proc fearsome, which often means he can simply walk up to an orc warrior or chosen and rout him with a couple hits, while having 60 defense.
This run didn't really maximize the strengths of the hammer shield bro, ideally he'd be a high stamina background in forged armor and he'd be paired with high damage teammates like a barbarian two handed axe that just need a little armor softening.
Nimble and nimbleforged are definitely fine for large camps at 150 days of scaling and earlier but if the late game camps scale to the point where he has no choice but to be focus fired by many high damage enemies, then you'd want a forged bro instead. Mine started to run out of steam when fighting both undead groups at once in Monolith. Still, this is a build I would routinely consider adding to the line up. Another great reason to build this is that Nimble Hammer Shield combines well with Spear + Shield, which is great for mid game tempo.
Shield Bro Build: Spear Specialist
Spear specialist performs a similar role to the indomitable tank, but becomes available earlier. Due to the way the AI works he can often hold off as many as 4-6 enemies for several turns. The spear specialization perk is very valuable as you can continue to refresh spearwall even while tanking another enemy, often you can arrange it so the only available spot for an enemy to attack is next to the spearman, causing several enemies to waste their turns trying to move in. Two handed enemies like chosen and berserkers are particularly crippled as they can only move one tile and attack, so you either force them to waste their turn by moving, or if they walk into spearwall they lose their turn if the spearman hits even once. The spearman singlehandedly increases the number of camps that will be profitable for your team. Spear combines well with shield and hammer in the classic Spear Hammer Shield Build from early BB, giving you something to do when you are done spearwalling. Will build again.
Weaknesses and Monolith:
I did multiple Black Monolith fights for testing purposes.
https://preview.redd.it/tgvvrj14881d1.png?width=1779&format=png&auto=webp&s=a58156df46337efd136bccea6564799c81e2abf2
I'm aware of two strategies for Monolith, with one being significantly easier than the other.
The "Speedrun" strategy (seen in Shringshring's video here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ayh35O9mLUw&t=8429s) involves splitting the undead into two groups by running the tank to the top left corner of the map, while the rest of the team retreats towards the bottom left corner of the map. The fight plays out as two separate fights with a break in between. It is reliable if you move like he does, the necrosavants may attack if your team spreads out too much though. Even if you only move a little bit though, it's enough to split the undead as long as the tank makes it to the corner.
The other strategy is the "Normal" or "Hard Mode" strategy for Monolith, where the tank runs approximately 4 hexes towards the top of the map and the team retreats approximately two hexes to the left. The fight starts sooner and it is possible for the tank to die relatively quickly. You need either a good tank to last a long time or a good amount of damage, otherwise you can end up facing both undead groups at the same time. This is the more difficult strategy but high damage late game teams with good tanks can handle it fine.
The Shield Bro + Swordlance team doesn't have any problem with Monolith with the speedrun strategy. It's true that the swordlances feel a bit weak against the ancient honor guards, but there isn't excessive pressure on the team so it can take the time to set up good AOEs with swordlances, weaken armor with hammer bros and focus fire. It plays out like two normal fights back to back.
However, when trying to brute force both Ancient Dead groups with the "Hard Mode" strategy, the team finally starts to show its weakness. The team takes 20 to 21 rounds to beat Monolith using this strategy. That's much slower than normal for Monolith. The Battleforged fatigue neutral shield bros performed well, surviving for many rounds while getting hit by up to 7 ancient honor guards at a time, but having the fight take so long leaves more time for things to go wrong and win rate on Monolith was probably only about 60% with this strategy, as there was a risk of the tank going down early. This could have been reduced with a better tank and/or more potions. Fighting both undead groups + necrosavants all at once was too much for the team to overcome reliably. Swordlances ran out of stamina and got stuck in non optimal positions for AOE, hammers were not able to eliminate Honor Guards quickly enough on their own. It may also have been a mistake to go from 5-6 Swordlances in most normal fights to only 4 in the Monolith, by benching the faked ranged for newly trained high defense bros, as there was a real lack of damage for the "Hard Mode" strategy.
While there isn't much reason to do the "Hard Mode" strategy instead of the "Speedrun" strategy, this still hints at a weakness that might show up in certain extremely highly scaled camps late in the game, like very late sea of tents. Just not enough damage vs armor, plus tons and tons of armored enemies pushing in too fast, getting in contact with vulnerable nimble units. However the amount of orc warriors that spawned in early game Sea of Tents were no problem at all, swordlance guys could just keep a tier 2 hammer in the pocket and easily rout them with fearsome after routing the young and berserkers.
Finally, fighting both undead groups at once illustrated some problems with the stamina system in this game as it relates to 4ap weapons. I left the sword duelist option available for filler bros with lower stamina who couldn't do anything else. Normally the build performed fine, however when there was an extremely high density of enemies and the sword duelist was getting attacked a lot he quickly ran out of stamina and could rarely regain enough to swing twice. He could either use recover, which was never needed in any other fight, or he could stand there and swing only once like an idiot. I gave them reach weapons for just this reason, but it was kind of a crutch to play around this imbalance of the stamina system, that's why two handed weapons are so good after all. In the Speedrun strategy when the undead were split into two groups, the sword duelists had no problems as they could take positions where only small numbers of enemies could swing at them.
Conclusion:
The meta builds exist for a reason of course, but the Devs generally did a great job balancing this game and you can definitely make a lot of non-meta builds work. Sometimes they even feel quite strong. However, when designing your non-meta builds keep in mind the imbalances with the stamina system. For a tanky character with a high stamina pool who uses high stamina cost moves, like the Hammer Shield Bro, taking a turn to recover doesn't feel too bad. But pathfinder based 4 ap builds that don't use much stamina in normal fights can find their offense shut down if they let a lot of enemies swing at them. That kind of limits the value of high defense and high durability on this kind of unit and makes me want to avoid putting 4 ap weapons on them, even though it seems more thematic than giant two handed weapons.

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When I wake up the next day, my head is swirling with questions. As I get up from my bed and go to clean myself, I can’t help but question everything! Did last night actually happen? I am pretty sure it did, but it all felt so bizarre… and wonderful! There’s a planetarium in the city, and it is magical in the most literal sense of the word! There are books on magic there, too! So I can probably start studying and learning more next time I visit!

Speaking of books… I have something to check there, don’t I?

As soon as I am out of the bathroom I go to the living room to get my pills and then, I start passing the pages of Humiko’s book. As I reach the ‘Epilogue’ section, I confirm to my horror that the words have completely disappeared.

In a panic, fearing the worst, I check my notes… oh, good, those were still here.

“What, were you fearing they would simply disappear too? Idiot.”

“Hey, with magic we really know nothing. It could have happened!”

I do feel a little silly but, yeah. For all we know, it could have happened. The point is that it didn’t!

Breathing way easier now, I sit down on one of the couches and sigh. Picking up my phone, I can confirm that it's Friday and it’s already eleven past noon. I guess this time I am justified in sleeping so much? But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Because you’re being lazy, even with your free time.”

With another deep sigh, I try to ignore the voices and just look straight up at the ceiling, tapping my chin for a moment.

How do we proceed from here?

Pelafina said I shouldn’t visit the Elysium early, because it gets full of people. I wonder how true that is… actually, I wonder how true anything she said was.

“Since when are you this distrustful?”

I don’t know. I don’t even know why I lied to her in the first place, but I just felt that this phrase, the one long complete phrase I managed to translate, is far more important than I know. I can’t share it… I actually don’t want to share anything with this lady?

“She will probably send the Cloaks if you stop cooperating though.”

That much I know, and I hate it. She has all the control over the situation!

“There’s one thing she can’t control though. She has no idea about your internet activity now, does she?”

… Good point. I have to focus on that!

I actually have to get back to GalaxyTaco, too! See what he's been doing and all that!

“But before all that, breakfast.”

Ah, right. Almost forgot… although, wouldn’t it be better to just ask for lunch at this point?

“Fair.”

Yes! Time for a burger.

“They feel blander and blander every time you buy one. Why even bother?”

Because they are still delicious, and more importantly, they are cheap and fast!

I quickly order a special Bisontian burger, with extra cheese of course, and then sit back down at the table, connecting my computer to the TER and tapping away a message at GalaxyTaco, to let them know I am up. Then, I write down my discoveries in the file I’m keeping. I’ll transcribe them to the notepad later.

I am adding the symbols (which I’ve learned are called Runes after a visit to the Elysium), meanings and effects I’ve learned. I’ve also learned that I can create Glyphs, which are combinations of Runes to create different effects. I wonder if they are phrases in the language!

Speaking of. They don’t even know it’s a language, they just seem to assume the symbols have effects and that’s it! Maybe they use it, but they haven’t fully grasped the implications yet.

That feels surprisingly shallow though. Just how much knowledge do these people have of magic? Is magic a recent discovery?

Or is there something else keeping people ignorant…?

The burger arrives not too long after I am done writing. I eat it while ruminating on the subject a bit further. They are not idiots, are they? To me, the first thing that comes to my mind when seeing symbols if they are part of a bigger language or something like that. Then again, maybe the lack of translation dissuaded them from experimenting further?

Stuff is not fitting as nicely as I wish…

I am about to write a little more when suddenly, I am added to a group in my messenger service. GalaxyTaco is alive! But not only them! There’s two other people in the conversation too.

Panic ensues, at least for a moment.

“Okay. Just keep calm.” I tell to myself. “Take a deep breath… phew… and let’s do this.”

My fingers are preparing to write some quick and tasteless introduction, when suddenly someone beats me to the punch.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: HIIIIIII!! ^0^!!

Oh no. A weeb, and a very strong one at that. I can feel her aura, her reiatsu, pushing down on me like a wave of augmented gravity. There are two chances here: I either get along real well with this person, or we hate each other on sight. There’s no middle ground among us.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: don’t be shy! :3 we’re friends here, I swear!

Well they are being real nice at least. Could be worse, they could be souseiseki.

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yo, you there?

Who the hell are these people!? I assume they are friends of GalaxyTaco, right? I really want to be patient but, damn it, new people get me nervous so easily…

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hi there, hi! n.nUu sorry, this whole deal took me by surprise.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ohhhh it is fine! uwu gal-kun told us everything!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you must be so scared Dx I know I was when I got started!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Well it has certainly been a journey, heheh n.n but I’ve managed.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I found the Elysium last night so, at least there’s that!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good job, that’s a big advancement actually
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): next you gotta find the clinic, though
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: There’s a clinic too? O.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yep. but we’ll explain all that later
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i’m canny btw. cannedtea at the forum, remember me?

My face burns a little bit when remembering this guy. I wasn’t expecting to find him again so quickly.

“Gay.”

Shut up.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: the name’s Aoi! ^0^/ UwU28 at the forum!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry I didn’t comment your topic, i am a bit shy xwxUu
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: It’s all fine, no worries n.n I’m Tav! But you two probably know that already
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it bears repeating, girl. it bears repeating.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah! ^^/
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright I’m back! sorry I was seeing grandma to bed heheh

I sigh in relief, cleaning the sweat off my brow. Thanks saints, this was going to be a little too much for me to handle alone!

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: oh hey gal-kun ~
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: reading up I see you’re all introduced, good good!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: now I just gotta introduce the plan to you Tav, so pay attention!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I’m ready! o.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright, so
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: to avoid 82’s wrath?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: canny here will be your voucher.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: huh?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: just put him in your profile and he’ll cover for you.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: And you’re okay with that, Canny? ;w; really!?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): eyeup, don’t worry girl. I gotchu.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: canny-kun and mort-sama covered for me when I just got in too :3 he’s the best!

For a moment I blink. Huh? Covered for Aoi? Does that mean they are also a Bastard Mage? What does that mean? Did they just find the link somewhere, too?

Questions for later, I guess.

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you so much Canny! ;w;
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): no prob bob
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): is it chill if I add you? you seem cool
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah, of course! :3 Add away! You too, Aoi-chan.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: EEEEE! Arigatou!! ^w^ <3 <3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: oh yeah that reminds me.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi, ain’t you forgetting something?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ah right!!! Tavy! what are your pronouns? o.o!

What?

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you put you’d rather not say your gender and that’s so cool! I wanna know what to call you though! uwu
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: if that’s okay of course ^.^
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi that is NOT what I meant damn it!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): nono, she’s right.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): sorry i kept callin you girl
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: not you too canny… focus!

I have never been asked that before… I mean, I have, by computers. But by people, it feels… odd.

I like it.

“You’re going to start with your delusions again?”

“They can identify as anything. Stop being so harsh!”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … I think I will go with she/her.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Is that okay? n.n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): girl, don’t ask US
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): ask yourself
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not the mean voice of anxiety, not the shit your guardians told ya
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): are YOU okay with it?

I feel the words pierce my chest for a moment. I gasp for air, my eyes opening a little more.

“This is all just play pretend. Don’t take it so much to heart.”

Shut up.

“What!?”

I said shut up. This time, this is for me. I decide this.

“You little ungrateful asshole…”

I want this. This makes me feel good and I will seize it. And you can go kiss my ass, you hear me!?

“...”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … Yeah. Yeah, I think I am okay with it n//n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): atta girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it’s chill to call you a girl right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah yeah, I like it! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yayayay Tavy-chan! :3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: huh. that’s unexpectedly wholesome…
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: but let’s focus! Aoi! do you have the book?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: right here boss! o.o7

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!! has sent you bastard_recipe_book.pdf
Accept?

Huh? A pdf? I hesitate for a moment but, hell, maybe it’s magic and magic can’t get viruses or something. I just click it.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: this is the rulebook for us Bastards, don’t tell nobody about it though OoO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: it’s a seecret~
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: A secret book… now that’s cool uwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): man, tav’s first secret
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): granny get the camera
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: lol
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: no but really, read it, study it well
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: it’s all vital.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: will do! I’ll print it and get to it right now
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: NO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: TAVY-CHAN WAIT
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): wait a sec tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Huh? O.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: don’t print that one!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah you can’t print magic books, it’s risky
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the runes can activate and shit would go boom
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Oh, okay o.o
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Man I hate reading on the computer! ;w;
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry tavy-chan ;w;!! but that’s the only way!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: yeah… anyways, I gotta go to bed, real badly.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: I trust you got it from here right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yep! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: byeeee everyone!! uwu see you in dejima!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see you around

I sigh and slowly lean back on my chair. That was intense, way too intense… but I am smiling. Really, this is some proper progress! I finally have tools to work on my own! Maybe I can even translate some more after learning magic!

“Are you sure that’s all you’re happy about?~”

… Shut up. Don’t look too deep into the whole ‘pronoun’ thing.

I am opening the file I got when, suddenly, another message hits me.

It’s from Canny!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): hey tav
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): if you don’t wanna read it on computer you can get it physical.

Whuh?

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you said you found an elysium, was it in a library?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah! o.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): thought so
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): look through the mundane part of the library, specifically in the section where you get cooking recipes
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see if you can find a cheap notebook that says ‘MAGIC’ in it.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): open it, say ‘jantar mantar’ to it, and that’s your ticket.

My eyes light up. A secret book, hidden under the cloak’s noses like that? That’s perfect!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the book’s written in draconic, which basically means only mages can read the real shit and you can’t destroy it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait what? O.o Draconic? Are dragons a thing here?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not anymore they ain’t
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Aww :c
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait,I can’t destroy it? O.o No matter how much I try?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i mean, you can, but it won’t do nothin
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ok! n.n but hey I don’t know Draconic D:!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it girlie
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yay! n.n I will go get it then
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): get some other books too, in case you’re being tailed.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you Canny!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah! I will be on my phone so don’t send me magic stuff for a while, okay?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): gonna teach you the glyph for your phone later.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yipee!! n.n
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah hell, sorry for that úwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you’re fine girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck.

I feel motivated, so motivated that I stand up immediately, close my computer, and finish my hamburger on the spot.

“Going out again!? Hah.”

I am running out of mean things to say, that’s a good sign.

“Don’t count on it.”

“You are doing great. Let’s go! The day’s young and we have notes to take!”

Yes! I don’t even notice the door in my way this time! I just go out and hop my way over to the elevator.

To the library! Again!

Hello everyone, I (25M) recently started thinking about stopping smoking (or at least limit my usage).
I come from a long history of drug abuse (pills, cannabis..). I’m just thinking that since i stopped those goddamn heavy addictions, why can’t i do the same for nicotine ?
Obviously, nicotine is the hardest to get rid of because of how accessible and socially acceptable it is.. I really want to stop smoking a pack a day, but a voice in my head keeps telling me how i would be craving for that smoke next time after a big meal or an orgasm or a moment of existential dread.. or even a cup of coffee..
Ex-smokers, how did you do it ? Do you recommand using nicotine patches or other products at first to weigh down the withdrawal, or go cold turkey (won’t that be dangerous from a health/psychological pov ?)
Pls share your thoughts and experiences

Started playing about 2 months ago. Mostly because of the music and the gorgeous arc. Having little experience with fighting games and knowing the high level of entry I want expecting to play for more than a week or so.
How wrong I was. I am over 100 hours already and I am obsessed with the game. The characters are so unique and interesting, the music is amazing all around. I have been getting better but still have ways to go.
I started to get into the lore by following the heaven and hell series on you tube and while I find it super non sensical even by Japanese standards I am loving all of it. Maybe it is better if I followed the games themselves but it doesn't matter. Finally got caught up and watched the strive stories (dlc included).
I loved all of it ! The animation on the first one is ... Okay, some of the fights are really cool though. But the characters are just amazing.
I particularly liked the scene where they put their bet on sol I. I was very hyped!
The dlc animation was way better and I just wished it had more combat.
Sol Badguy had become one of my favorite characters on media. And while I wasn't a fan of Ky based on the lore videos, he is actually a pretty cool guy, his fighting scene was also spectacular! The rest of the cast is also fantastic and I can't think of a character I don't like (fighting them is another story). And I am very hyped to see our Dandiest Dandy dude coming to strive soon!
Anyways, just obsessed with anything guilty Gear at the moment, I even preordered the elphelt plush and can't wait for it to come here. Very happy to have come across this game and that I took the plunge! Just wanted to share my excitement because no one around me is into this series and I Feel like I am taking crazy pills
Ps: Is there anywhere I can get more guilty Gear merchandise?

As per my previous posts, I moved overseas and I had to switch ingredients when it came to my birth control. I thought I was handling the new birth control fine, but I am not stopping bleeding. I had a small placebo week since normally I don’t like to take the whole week, and it is still going. I don’t know what to do since I just started my actives again. It always fakes me out by giving me an idea it’s ending at night and then the morning it’s back at it again. I am at my wits end, how do you deal with this? I sometimes have a longer withdrawal bleed when I switch pills but I’m at two weeks now going on three this week. It’s annoying, I am thinking of talking to the clinic about it to see what we can do but I probably won’t be able to get a new prescription for a while, anything in the meantime that can help? Or is it a ride it out situation?

I am 25F and the father is 34M. I am going to be brutally honest, please no judgement.
We met at work when I was 23F and he was 32M, I flirted with him HARD for months and then he told me he was recently engaged after dating for six years. We had an emotional affair only, and he ended up terminating his engagement. We dated for around 8-9 months before breaking up. Immediately, I regretted breaking up. We tried no contact but it didn't ever really stick because we still loved each other and we couldn't part ways. I ended up finding out he got back together with his ex-fiancé less than two months after our breakup. We were still no contact, but a physical, full-blown affair ended up arising and lasted this past year and a half. I have never loved anyone more than him, and I did it for love. I wanted a life with him and I wanted to marry him and have a family with him. He admitted that he wanted those things too and he went back to her too quickly. I thought he loved me the way I loved him and it was just complicated for him to leave her because of their history. He never did leave her, even through a year of me showing up for him to show him I was ready for the things he thought I wasn't ready for.
Flash forward to today, I'm pregnant for the second time. I was first pregnant end of March 2024 during the affair (*Note: we are no contact now and he is blocked everywhere). I texted him the picture of the positive pregnancy test and he told me his ex-fiancé now girlfriend is pregnant too. My heart sank and I felt ill. I told my family the next day that I was pregnant and was in an affair for the past year and a half. I needed my mom and support and help. They were obviously unhappy with him getting two women pregnant at the same time. They wanted me to abort, however I've always wanted to be a mother, I have a good job and could afford the child on my own, and I was pro-choice for every woman on the planet but thought I would never be in this position. Four days later, I miscarried. My mother had many miscarriages before pregnancy stuck for her. I had bloodwork at my OB/GYN office and they tracked my HCG levels until I was low enough for them to confirm the pregnancy was nonviable.
I told him I miscarried and he came over a few times to see me. We ended up having unprotected sex after the miscarriage not knowing that I could get pregnant that quickly. I thought my body's cycle was so thrown off that I wouldn't ovulate for at least a month - 6 weeks. I woke up one day with really heavy breasts and tender nipples and took one of the tests that I had leftover from my first pregnancy just to see if I could be pregnant. Sure enough, pregnant. I told him the news and he said he was very clear that he did not want me to get pregnant. He thought I did it on purpose because he knows I want children and to be a mother. He said he would be here for an abortion but that I had to work around his girlfriend's schedule with her doctor's appointments for her pregnancy. I blocked him everywhere. If I go through with the abortion, I shouldn't have to do it on his/her schedule. He has kept this (me and my pregnancies and our affair) from her since the beginning. She has no idea that I am pregnant and he doesn't want her to know. I can't tell her because I'm in the wrong too. I knew he was with her and I still participated because I loved him and thought he would wake up one day and see that it was supposed to be us in the end.
If I have this child, I can afford to do it on my own and without financial help from him. He has made it clear that he wants nothing to do with the pregnancy or with me, and that he doesn't want me to keep the pregnancy. I am attached to this pregnancy the longer it goes on and it is so extremely difficult for me to accept that I may have to get an abortion. If I keep the baby, I don't want to tell him that I am keeping the pregnancy. I don't want him involved and I don't want him to ask for split custody. I can't share my child with her too. I have a consult Tuesday for the pills. I have to get an ultrasound first because of my previous miscarriage. I don't want to lose another pregnancy, this time on purpose. I am so emotionally distraught and alone. What would you do? How do you get through it? I tell myself that through this dumpster fire of a situation something good can come out of it. I can be a mother and love the child more than anything and create a good life for us. I will be a good mother and I can just tell people the dad isn't in the picture and leave it at that.
I am dealing with a lot of bitterness towards the father and I won't tell his girlfriend now because truly she has done nothing wrong and this will wreck her. I don't want to hurt an innocent bystander in this. I just know I wouldn't be in this position if he stepped up. I wouldn't have to consider abortion if he was here. It's the fact that I would do this on my own that my family wanted me to have one in the first place. Lots of people I know had accidental pregnancies but they all married the father of their child. I would be a single mother by choice. I am okay with that but I don't know if society is. I want to do the right thing but I'm overwhelmed with emotions. I worry I am going to keep the child selfishly so that I can avoid the absolute plummeting heartbreak of losing another pregnancy/being reminded the man I wanted more than anything doesn't want me or his child. I would love this child with everything in me. I would support this child and make sure that I would minimize the damage of the situation on my child. I can raise a well-adjusted child. I have so much love to give.
TLDR: I am pregnant with his child but he is expecting a baby with his girlfriend currently. I can do it on my own but should I? Should I have an abortion?

This is only my second post on here and I’m usually more of an observer LOL but i’m sharing this incase it can help anyone. I was diagnosed with OCD and I’ve struggled with anxiety and panic attacks and because of that I’ve become full blown agoraphobic.
My OCD and anxiety made me very health conscious and I was incredibly scared to take medication even though I have taken this medication before. I would go to doctors, get prescribed something new, read something online about symptoms and never see the pills again.
I decided a few months back when all of this was happening for me that I would take a natural approach and do ERP therapy and CBT therapy, all of that and it worked! My ERP was amazing for all of my OCD themes and the anxiety that comes from those but a month ago I had a really bad panic attack and I was stuck with the aftermath of it and it made me feel like i took a few steps back even though it probably wasn’t the case.
I started thinking about medication again and now that I am a bit more comfortable with the unknown of health symptoms, I decided to ask a Dr to prescribe me the pills I used to take (Fluoxetine/Prozac).
I used to take them a while back for social anxiety and I never had a symptom but as my fear progressed I started looking at medication differently.
I am 20 years old and having agoraphobia (at any age) is no fun. I could go through it naturally and keep doing therapy and eventually I would get my life back but it would take me much longer than if I started taking something.
I got prescribed the prozac (brand name of fluoxetine) on the 8th of May and it was not until today that I was able to take one. I posted here yesterday and I received a lot of encouragement so I decided to do it.
I wanted to post this again in case anybody is finding themselves in my situation. We can do this together and you are not alone. I took it around an hour and 20 minutes ago and I did get anxious just overthinking about it but after redirection and some very deep breathing the feeling and worry started to subside.
I’m still going to be scared tomorrow but if you’re finding yourself in this situation, treat it as an exposure if you can and don’t feel bad if you can’t or don’t want to do it yet. I do not regret not starting it earlier. I did it with a healthy push when I felt ready for it. I will update more when the time comes.
Thank you all for taking the time to read this and to those that helped me out yesterday with my anxious post asking for encouragement LOL.

As an aside, I got an incredibly much needed laugh when I saw my firefox thumbnail for this tab labeled as "lgbt:submit". That's hilarious.
I had a few posts on here before, but TLDR; I met someone online (asexual nonbinary dfab who I've emotionally supported getting the meds they need to be more androgynous) who not only helped force open my perception of all things gender related, but also opened up my heart. I eventually asked them out, but they shot me down.... because I'm too masculine.
A few months ago, I got to have another vacation where I got to spend time with this friend, and at one point, I presented the idea: "would you have dated me, if in another world or life time, I could have been your girlfriend?" They gave the correct answer of "you should make that decision for yourself, not for other people". But it certainly got us talking about my gender identity, and apparently "subtle" hints and flags I've apparently been giving off for years.
I have mixed feelings about transitioning. Not on other people; I will FOREVER be an Ally, because Justice shouldn't have asterisks or exceptions. Do no Evil and let people live their lives if they aren't hurting anyone else. And I've seen how effective it can be on folk. Even when I assumed I was 100% straight, I've seen transgirls who absolutely peek my interest. I'm glad science has progressed enough to allow people to push towards living however they want to. Again, I've been supporting my friend in that matter from the bottom of my heart.
On me, I'm very anxious of the idea. I've always been judged on "not being right".
I'm not honest or trust-able enough, while also being too open and forward. I'm not "black" enough while also having faced discrimination for it. I'm not "white" enough despite being raised by the boogie-st white mother possible. (I see myself as multiracial/mixed, with a White-Irish Birthmom, and a Nigerian-French Birthdad). I'm not traditional enough in my views to count as faithful to my religion, despite also defining that as part of who I am. I've always been teased for not being manly enough or being too sensitive... and yet for the first time, seeing myself as a male has finally been something else I don't fit right, either.
So transitioning without it being as "instant"/"complete" as it is in fiction (where a single pill or shot, or outright magic, can complete the change either way overnight, if not instantly), I'm not sure about the idea of giving it a try and "not being enough of a girl", even with estrogen and bottom surgery. Even if I had the support of someone I'd love to spend the rest of my life with, it's still pretty daunting.
...at least when awake and actively thinking about it.
Apparently, I've made comments for years, if not maybe even over decades, that have made my friends question my sexuality and gender.
-discomfort with my body and fitness, and not feeling attractive enough as a man (as well as wondering if my legs and butt can be attractive in ways I didn't think I was supposed to have them be)
-Preferring to play as Female Characters in Video Games.
-Having a wish to be reborn as a girl, for all the fun options in regards to nerd things that I don't have the balls (haha) to do as a boy. Cosplays and jokes and what not. -On that note, being somewhat jealous that it feels like there are more cosplay options for girls in regards to characters and crossplaying than for guys. (as a guy, for example, I could only be Ganondorf. As a girl, I could probably still pull off Ganondorf, or also be sexy-femme Ganondorf too.)
-imagining myself in said alternate life, as the buff yet curvy amazonian friend/girlfriend to my dream twinky nerdy partner
-joking that the two of us could just switch bodies and make both of us happier (apparently it's easier to access Estrogen than Testosterone, so making me girlier would be easier than them trying to even themselves out)
-having spent years roleplaying online as my own younger sister, enjoying presenting as the opposite gender
-having tried on my sister's bra in middle school (which gave another reason to change for gym in the bathroom, away from the other boys and bullies) because I was uncomfortable with how my fat and chest were feeling
-being bullied for being a sissy and sensitive and a f** and all that, even when I was trying to be a boy (if still nerdy as heck).
-many of my roleplay characters being girls, some of them I've had more fun with than the non-girls (particularly when romance is involved, though I'm a sucker for romance anyway), and being significantly open to non-heterosexual relationships in my roleplay in the past few years
-saying that if I could just be completely body-swapped with like a week of time at most into my dream figure, I'd do it in an instant
-being torn on the idea of bottom surgery unless it was complete, because I'd want the option of being able to have kids one way or another, even if I currently don't want any, and science isn't quite there yet, even with how far it has progressed.
-thinking that if I were in better shape (or a better body) a cute crop top jacket to show off abs sounds unironically neat, and imagining other things I could wear if I didn't have this body.
-joking about how I'd have had more fun when I used to be a sign-spinnedancer, and could have been a waitress rather than a frycook, when I was starting out my jobs...
-I didn't realize it until I started looking back, but there had also been a lot of manga and comics and such involving trans media that I had been following for years, largely M2F.
-it's probably some sort of sexuality flag that I find femme characters or versions of me still willing to be involved with girls or boys, as well as becoming a bit more open about being willing to fall in love with anyone if they're cute and nerdy, at least hypothetically, even if I have a preference for girls. In trying to shake off family values that I find are heavily outdated, I imagined supporting my friend if they became so non-femme their sex also changed... and I might have fantasized about still being with them in that way too.
Is it possible to have all those thoughts rattling around in the back of my head for years (even if magnified when I spend so much time talking with someone very versed in gender related matters) and still be just Cishet?

I couldn’t remember if I had taken my Adderall before leaving for work. Normally I can tell right away which it is but was having a hard time of it. At one point I mentioned my internal debate aloud. One of my coworkers reminded me of a feature in the Apple health app for tracking when you take meds. It’s a simple feature that involves manually pressing the button for the day to indicate you took your meds.
I laughed.
My brand of brain functioning reads those words as a new layer of hell waiting to happen. I instantly imagined myself still wondering if I took the pill and wondering if I updated the app accordingly.
Did I take the pill but forget to mark it? Did I forget the pill and that’s why it’s not marked? Did I take the pill and accidentally mark the wrong day?
It would add more confusion and illuminate nothing for me! Not to mention I try and stay as far away from my phone as possible due to how prone I am to rabbit holes and distractions. I’d be halfway to taking my pill, not want to forget to mark it so go to pull up the app, see a notification or just have straight up instant amnesia, and end up scrolling myself late and unmedicated. I see it 🔮
He could not understand why I rejected the idea but I appreciate his efforts. I’m sure it works well for many in this community but I also know there’s a whole lot of you that can relate.

Location: Defense Line Husky, Datsot-3

POV: Motsotaer, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Pack Member)
The shrieking whistle of incoming artillery shell was among the most terrifying noises known to living beings.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Boom. Boom. Boom.
But it meant you were still alive.
Pack Member Motsotaer wondered if the poor pups in the forward trenches heard them coming as the enemy high explosive pounded into their lines.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
One of their anti-aircraft concrete bunkers took a direct hit; its roof collapsed on itself with a loud crumble.
Grass Eater artillery was voluminous, destructive, but scariest of all, it was incredibly precise. Their intelligence assets in orbit knew all, saw all. Their kill chains were short. Once they saw you, they would call it in, and the remainder of your life was measured in minutes and seconds.
There was nothing vegetarian about the efficient and bloodthirsty way the long-eared Grass Eaters fought, and the numerous intelligent predator species they’d exterminated on their way to Datsot… some of those tales gave even Motsotaer nightmares.
The defenders of Datsot had no choice. No choice but to defend their homes against the psychotic enemies pounding their lines to bits. And the ones who remained had learned the hard lessons of war, either through experience earned by blood or via the process of not-so-natural selection.
Motsotaer clutched his rifle against his chest as he laid in his own shallow hole, eyes closed. If the end was going to come for him, there was nothing else he could do but huddle in his freshly-dug grave.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The blasts continued walking across the defense lines, undoubtedly killing scores of his comrades. But he accompanied each shockwave with a sigh of relief; they let him know that he was still alive. Still breathing.
One final rumble. And then there was silence across the battlefield.
Motsotaer waited a minute before he peeked out — another lesson that smart defenders of Datsot had discovered the hard way. A couple brave medics were already on the move, their shouts left and right, pulling bodies and the groaning injured alike out of the rubble aftermath of the shelling.
With a grunt, he pulled himself out of his hole, rushing towards the neighboring anti-air bunker. The concrete roof had collapsed, but he could still hear cries from the dark. He squeezed through the cluttered entrance.
It was a mess on the inside. The lights were all gone. Scattered sandbags. It smelled like blood and death, and he pushed aside the still body of a Head Pack Leader he only knew of, only to find the corpse of yet another Pack Member, her limbs sprawled in an unnatural position.
“Anyone still alive in here?” he asked in the dark as his eyes adjusted. “Hello?”
There were a series of loud coughs. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Pack Leader Nidvid!” he shouted as he recognized the familiar shrill voice. “Keep talking! Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here. Help me up.”
As she continued to cough, he had the sense to fish a flashlight out of his pocket, fumbling around until he found the on button. As the light activated, he could see Nidvid half-buried in the dirt, her lower limbs trapped beneath some sand from the broken sandbags.
“Pack Leader!” He got onto his front paws and started digging. “Are you injured?”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head in the dim lighting as she experimentally wriggled her legs. “Here, I think I’m loose. Help me up.”
Motsotaer grasped her under her arms, and with a heavy grunt, pulled her out of the dirt.
“Whew,” she said, checking her body again for wounds. Nidvid looked around at the other bodies splayed in the bunker. “Oh no… Head Pack Leader…”
“That was a close one. I can’t believe you lived through that!”
“Yeah, me neither… Wait a second,” Nidvid said as she began rummaging through a pile of rubble near the Head Pack Leader’s body. “The radio…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he aimed his flashlight towards where she was looking.
“Oh no, no, no…” her voice trailed off as she picked up the device she’d been looking for. “Our hardline communicator…” It was clearly broken from the strike, its shell perforated with a hundred holes and its connection to the landline severed. In disgust, Nidvid threw it back to the ground.
“What uh— what did you need that for?” Motsotaer asked. “Were we supposed to tell them we were being attacked?”
“No… It was— before the strike, we got a high priority order.”
“A high priority order?”
Nidvid recalled, “There’s a special platoon in our salient… We were supposed to get an important message to them!”
“Special platoon?” Motsotaer asked. “Are you okay, Nidvid?”
“Yes, yes,” the Pack leader replied, visibly distraught. “They only had a physical line to us because they’re supposed to be keeping in the dark. Emissions control or something like that so they can activate the flying machine swarm in time. They said this was life and death and our whole defense line hinges on it!”
“Emissions control? Flying machines? Pack Leader, we should get you to a medic,” he said skeptically.
“No! Motsotaer, this is important. We need to get the message to them now. They’re only a couple kilometers south from our position. If we run over to their position now, it might not yet be—”
He looked up at her face in alarm. “Run to another position? Outside the trench line?”
“Yes! We have to go!” she said, as she peeked out of the concrete bunker towards the barren zone ahead of the trenches. “Now! Before they start their offensive.”
Motsotaer began to protest, “But that’s no creature’s land. If we get spotted by their troops, we’ll be hunted down by the Grass Eaters ships in orbit…”
She was insistent, “Pack Member Motsotaer, get it together. We still have a job to do. Are you with me or are you going to sit here and die like a coward to the long-ears?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straightening up. Death or not, he was no coward. “I mean… I’m with you.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
With a grunt, she leapt out of the trenches and jogged south, keeping to the defensive side of it for the modicum of cover it provided, and Motsotaer quickly followed. As they sprinted away from the tattered defenses, they ran into a thick tree line that hopefully provided them with some concealment from the Grass Eater ships above.
After a couple more minutes of running in the forest, Motsotaer started to tire and pant. He weighed his burning lung and how embarrassed he’d be if he complained. Luckily for his ego, Nidvid gestured for them to stop after another minute and tossed him her canteen. “Take a break before we get going.”
He chugged as much water as he could in a single swig, and returned the canteen to Nidvid. He gasped out, “How much further, Pack Leader?”
“About one more kilometer south,” she said, aiming her snout up at the treetops. “I recognize the smell of this area.”
“What’s this even about? The message… what was it?”
Nidvid exercised her limbs. “That Grass Eater artillery strike… it was to prepare for their offensive on our lines. They’ve gathered an armored division on the other side of that,” she pointed out into the barren fields beyond the trees. “We have an hour at most before they roll over us.”
“An armored division?!” Motsotaer squeaked. The enemy’s Longclaws — their armored vehicles — were legendary. They could kill from kilometers away. And their thick shells protected them against all but the most powerful artillery in the Federation’s arsenal. He’d never seen one of them personally. If he had, he suspected he wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone about it. “What can we do against a Grass Eater armored division?”
“That’s why we have to get to the special platoon,” Nidvid replied. She pointed in the southern direction, “You ready? Let’s go.”
They galloped for a few more minutes. Motsotaer’s limbs tired and his breaths shallowed as his lung burnt. As he was contemplating whether to ask for another break, Nidvid pointed at a shape in the distance. “There, that’s their position!”
He squinted at it. It was not easy to see, but buried in the tree line was what looked like a bunch of out-of-place branches and leaves over a small vehicle. Buoyed by the anticipation of the end of the marathon, he managed to keep up with Nidvid’s pace.
As they approached, there was a loud shout.
“Hi-yah! Stop!”
They halted their steps and looked for the source of the voice.
“Not one more paw step, deserter! This is a restricted area! Turn around or you’ll be shot!”
Motsotaer looked up at the voice hidden up in the branches. After a moment, with some help from his nose, he found the yeller. It was a short, stout middle-aged male with strange-looking green and brown paint smeared all over his fur and face. He had a rifle aimed squarely at the duo.
“Don’t shoot!” Nidvid yelled back. “We’re runners. We’ve got an important message! For your platoon commander.”
The male in the tree looked suspiciously at them as he leapt down. He lowered his rifle, but didn’t seem any less on guard. “A message?”
“Yes, we’ve got an urgent message for Special Platoon Commander Graunsa. Take us to him right now!”
He sized the two of them up. After a moment, he said slowly, “I am Graunsa. Why are you here, and what is the message?”
Nidvid recovered some of her breath and explained, “The Grass Eaters hit us hard with an artillery strike. Our Head Pack Leader is dead. Our landline is gone. We ran all the way over from our lines north of you.”
Graunsa nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“The Grass Eater armored offensive is about to start. They’re moving into position and ready to go, and there’s a special message embedded—”
“Wait a second,” Graunsa interrupted. “Give me the special message exactly, without omission or your own interpretations.”
“Yes, Platoon Commander,” Nidvid nodded. “The message is: bunny water carriers are in play, red-five-zero-eight; come out of the dark and introduce yourself. Authorization is three-three-greyhound.”
Graunsa looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered it.
“What does the message mean?” Motsotaer whispered at Nidvid.
“I have no idea,” she shrugged, whispering back. “The Head Pack Leader just told me to memorize it.”
The platoon commander seemed to have made up his mind. “Alright, that seems legitimate. Thanks for the message.” He turned around to leave.
Motsotaer shouted behind him, “Wait, what are we supposed to do now?”
Graunsa turned around. “I don’t know. I’m not your commanding officer.” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to your lines though. Might not be there when you get back…”
“What?!”
“You can’t just leave us! Where else are we supposed to go?” Nidvid asked.
Graunsa seemed to contemplate the question for a few heartbeats and sighed, “You said you’re from the position up north?”
“Yup,” they replied in unison.
“And you’re a spotter, Pack Member?” he asked, looking at the rank and position patch on Motsotaer’s chest.
“Yes.”
Graunsa relented. “Fine. We might find a use for you. Get into the bunker… before the Grass Eaters in orbit see us dawdling out here.”
“What? Where?”
The officer pointed at a patch of dark green leaves on the forest floor. As they approached it, he grasped a latch and lifted it to reveal a ladder. The three of them descended into the darkness and Graunsa secured it behind them. With a quiet swoosh, a lamp mounted on the wall lit up to reveal a small hallway leading to a heavy-looking door.
Graunsa knocked on it twice. He turned around and looked at Motsotaer and Nidvid. “What you’re about to see in here is of the highest secrecy level of the Malgeir Federation. If you tell anyone what you see in here, you will be executed for treason. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Platoon Commander.”
“Swear it, on your honor.”
“We swear,” they replied in unison, their voices infused with growing excitement.
“Good enough for me.”
The heavy steel door swung open, showing a room that was vastly different from what its primitive exterior suggested. It resembled a command center far more than a field base, and Motsotaer felt a blast of cold air conditioning in his face as he passed the door threshold.
At the front, a main screen showed a map of the defensive lines in the sector. Facing it, two rows of sleek, new computer screens lit up the dark. Their operators worked busily at their controls, and only a couple faces looked their way in mild interest as they entered.
“What is this—” Motsotaer started to ask. Nidvid grasped his shoulder and shushed him.
Graunsa cleared his throat. Several faces looked towards him in anticipation. “Platoon, we just got the message. Activate the FTL handshake and authenticate us in the network.”
“Yes, sir.” A young-looking communication officer near the front operated a few controls on her console. “I’ve got the advisors on the line.”
Motsotaer read his nametag: Gassin. She was a Gamma Leader, much higher ranked than he, but she looked not a day over twenty. He noted that many of the people in the room sported high-ranking insignias despite their apparent youth.
“On screen,” Graunsa ordered.
A communication window appeared on the main screen, streaming video of someone in a jet-black EVA suit.
Motsotaer stiffened. It was obvious that the subject was alien; at around 1.7 or 1.8 meters, it was far too tall for being a Malgeir. Too small for a Granti. And from the side profile of the suit, it didn’t bulge nearly enough for the tails that the Malgeir’s Schpriss neighbors were known for. A strange new species of aliens.
From the blackened visor, it was obvious that whoever that was… it was the reason for all this tight secrecy.
“Special Platoon Commander Graunsa,” it transmitted in perfect Malgeirish. The alien was either a trained-from-birth Federation Channel One newscaster with a perfectly inoffensive accent, or its translator was far better than anything the Malgeir themselves had invented. “This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”
Graunsa stepped up to address the screen directly, “Yes, advisor. Our fire support platoon is ready for tasking.”
“Excellent. Transmitting the first batch of targets in your sector now.”
A series of symbols scrolled onto the screen, showing a number of coordinates.
“We’re getting the enemy positions now,” Gassin exclaimed.
Graunsa turned to her and nodded his appreciation, “Sixteen armored targets. Weapons free.”
“Yes, sir. Programming the sequence.”
A camera on the main screen activated, remotely showing a small hole with some machinery in it dug a few hundred meters away just at the edge of the tree line.
“Launching flying machine swarm!”
As Motsotaer watched, a thicket of metal erupted from the hole in a blur, roaring into the sky.
The main screen was replaced by a four-by-four of windows of black and white images. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was looking at the battlefield from above. The Malgeir had rotary wing, airplanes, and jet — some were even armed, but they were usually much bigger. And their air assets had been grounded since the early days of the battle for Datsot when the enemy took the orbits.
Not these tiny devices though.
He focused on one of the sixteen windows.
The ground sped past below the camera’s vision, tree line after tree line, the flying machine seemed to know where it was going by itself: Motsotaer looked at the other occupants in the room. None of them seemed to be directly controlling it.
He stiffened.
Is this controlled by a thinking machine?
“We’re getting in range of the target coordinates, Platoon Commander,” Gassin updated the room a few minutes later.
As if on cue, the flying machines flew higher, and the trees on the ground grew smaller, as if further away. Until…
“Targets identified!” Gassin reported with excitement in her voice.
As an infantry spotter, Motsotaer had been trained — barely — to identify enemy armored vehicles. As in, he’d been given a cheatsheet containing the silhouettes of the different types of vehicles the enemy drove. But even he couldn’t tell at this distance what the white-hot smudges on the screen were.
The machine had no such issues though.
Several red boxes materialized on the screen, clearly marking several enemy vehicles in the thermal imagery and adorning them with detailed information.
The one Motsotaer was watching said:
Hostile vehicle, Longclaw MK4 (top armor: ~25mm), 4.2 km.
No hostile EW detected.
Without additional prompting, the flying machines raced in towards their targets, each recognizing a different one as its final destination. Afraid to blink, Motsotaer stared intently at one of the video streams.
A new line of text appeared at the top of the screen:
ETA 20 seconds.
It counted down the seconds, number by number.
The enemy Longclaw got larger and larger until… the screen went black, replaced by static. As he looked around, the other windows were similarly replaced with static one-by-one.
Motsotaer frowned, wondering where the videos had gone.
Then, it hit him. The flying machines were on one-way trips.
The sixteen windows disappeared, and another one appeared, showing the enemy assembly area from a much higher perspective. And instead of the vehicles he expected, he counted sixteen burning wrecks, the black smoke from their flames reaching up into the sky in columns.
“Targets destroyed, Commander,” Gassin said. Several of the officers in the room looked at each other excitedly, but their celebration was muted.
Graunsa nodded. “Call our advisors again.”
The alien appeared on the screen again. “Excellent work, Platoon Commander. We’re assessing the lines and getting the second batch of targets to you now.”
“Understood.”
As the new target coordinates scrolled onto the main screen, Gassin didn’t need additional prompting, “Launching flying machines!”
Another sixteen of them flashed out from the pre-dug position. Another sixteen windows appeared on the screen, replacing the odd-looking aliens’ video.
“Wait a minute,” the aliens’ voice cut into the quiet hum of the control room’s operation. “Switch back to the high-altitude drone. Something’s happening.”
The main screen’s image was replaced by the previous camera looking down at enemy lines. There was a flurry of activity in the enemy base area. Numerous dots representing the ground troops moved to-and-fro. And worryingly, the red squares that surrounded enemy armor began appearing en masse as enemy Longclaws drove out of their covered positions into the open.
Dozens of them.
Then, hundreds. And more appeared every second.
“What’s going on?” Graunsa asked, his voice reflecting Motsotaer’s worry.
The alien took a minute to get back to him, its black helmeted face filling up the screen again. “They’re attacking. They don’t know what hit them in the last strike. But they must have realized that they’re not safe in their assembly area, and they’re doing the only thing they can… We estimate they’ll get to your first lines in thirty minutes.”
“Can we stop them?” Graunsa asked. “We can—”
The alien looked directly into the video. “Not sixteen drones at a time. And if you launch the whole swarm at once, it’ll reflect enough signal for them to sniff out where you are with their counter-battery radars and take you out from orbit.”
Graunsa swallowed. “That’s— that’s— The machines can fly themselves without us, right?”
The alien didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “Theoretically, yes. But even if you evacuate your position now, your people won’t get out of range from the orbital strike they’ll call in.”
“I understand. Feed us the enemy targets.”
“Delta Leader, we can’t ask you to—”
“I said, feed us the enemy targets,” Graunsa insisted.
Quietly, hundreds of coordinate pairs filed onto the main screen. Graunsa looked at the faces of the young officers under his command. Dozens of them. He turned around to look at his two guests. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s the right choice,” Nidvid replied, shrugging.
Motsotaer nodded at him.
“I know,” Graunsa said, turning back to the main screen. “Just doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Sir, we’re ready to launch,” Gassin reported.
“Weapons free. Release everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ground shook and rumbled, hundreds of flying machines leaving their canisters for the sky. They were close enough to hear the outgoing buzzing as the munitions launched. This time, more and more windows filled up the screen with the visuals of the outgoing flying machines — hundreds of them, and Motsotaer was surprised that the computers could even handle it all.
The visage of the alien returned to their screen. It said calmly, “Enemy orbital launch spotted. Multiple launches. High yield. Missiles incoming to your location, ETA twelve minutes.”
“Understood, advisor.”
POV: Slurskoch, Znosian Dominion Marines (Rank: Five Whiskers)
“Scramble! Scramble! Scramble!”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
“What’s going on?” Longclaw Commander Slurskoch sat up in his turret cupola as the sirens rang loud through the hull.
“We’re under artillery attack!” his Controller yelled back at him through the roaring startup sequence of the turbine anti-grav engines. “The Lesser Predators… they’ve got some kind of new weapon! Took out a whole battalion’s worth of Longclaws in the 194!”
“But we’re not ready!” his Driver complained. “Our artillery is supposed to pound them for another hour before we—”
Slurskoch shook his head as he checked the friendly force tracker on his screen. “Doesn’t matter! If they’ve got some new weapon, we can’t sit still while we get pounded to bits by whatever they have. We gotta get out there. Hurry it up!”
It took them another two minutes to fully warm up the engines, and with a roar, the Longclaw burst out of its camouflaged emplacement, kicking up a curtain of dirt in front of it.
“Let’s go! Go! Go!” Slurskoch yelled as his lagging Longclaw joined the armored formation already on the move.
The Controller spoke with one of her ears in the radio, “Their artillery just launched… something at us. We’ve pinpointed their location, and orbital support is on its way.”
His Gunner whooped twice, and Slurskoch nodded silently in agreement. That’d flatten those carnivorous abominations where they stood. He drew a few symbols and circles on the digital battlemap as the Longclaws drove toward the enemy lines. “Gunner, watch those potential trench lines in front of us,” he instructed. “Their anti-armor may not look scary on paper, but their infantry can always get a lucky hit in.”
Slurskoch was taught in training that it was better to overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. Luckily, the predators usually fell below expectations, which was why the Dominion controlled the orbits of Datsot now and not them.
His Controller frowned at something in her radio, “They’re saying something about the enemy artillery… The engineers at the base assessed the strike aftermath. There’s something strange in the rubble. The attack was more precise than anything we’d ever seen.”
“What does that mean?” Slurskoch asked in confusion.
“The sensor officer in charge of the assembly area has taken full responsibility. They didn’t see the incoming at all. Higher ups are speculating that the Lesser Predators have a new weapon in their arsenal.”
“The predators made new weapons?” Slurskoch snorted. “Useful ones? That’ll be a first. Well, whatever it is, maybe our Design Bureau will get a good look at it when we finally cleanse this planet of their filth. Make our next battle a little easier when we have to take their home planet.”
His Gunner agreed, “And then, the Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”
A few kilometers into the charge across the open, the Gunner remarked with one eye on her targeting computer, “Looks like even the local winged predators know that there’s about to be a slaughter here.”
The Driver, in his open hatch, looked up at the cloud of them flying over the enemy lines. “Looks like it. A nice juicy feast for them in the coming battle. The irony of the barbaric carnivores being eaten by themselves.”
A few thousand years ago, winged predators would have curdled the blood of any natural-born Znosian. On the original plains of Znos, they were one of the most dangerous threats a lone Znosian faced. Now, that fear had been completely bred out of the gene pool, replaced with contempt for predatory primitivism, the courage to face them in battle, and the drive to exterminate them all.
Curious, Slurskoch stared up into the cloud of winged predators with his Longclaw commander optics. He frowned.
One of them shimmered.
Shimmered.
He zoomed in.
Then, he saw a metallic glint. His whiskers tightened.
“That’s— those aren’t winged predators,” he barely made out in shock. “Incoming!”
“Huh?” his Driver asked, craning his head up to look at the dark shapes in the distance.
“Get inside! Secure the hatch!” Slurskoch shouted at him.
His Driver was not very good at thinking on his own, but he had been bred to follow direct orders without question. He ducked into his seat, quickly securing the hatch above him close with trained claws.
He barely secured the Longclaw as other commanders began yelling out similar instructions on their radios.
“Incoming!” his Controller advised, about ten seconds later than necessary. “Enemy… artillery?!”
“Gunner!” Slurskoch gestured in the general direction of the sky.
“I can’t get a shot on them. They’re too high up!” she screamed back at him.
A trio of air defense vehicles next to him opened up with their six barrels towards the sky, lines of bright tracers stabbing out at the dark swarm. He saw one of the… flying machines hit and fall out of the sky. Then another.
It wasn’t enough.
As Slurskoch’s optics tracked the incoming, he saw them dive. They were fast, and they flew erratic patterns, almost organically, like actual winged beasts. If he hadn’t had that specific fear bred out of his bloodline hundreds of years ago, he would have been frozen in shock. Instead, he yelled out, “Brace! Brace!”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The world exploded around his Longclaw.
Through his friendly force tracker, Slurskoch watched an entire battalion disappear off the map on his right flank, and two Longclaws in his line of sight brewed up in massive fireballs, throwing their turrets into the sky as their plasma ammunition detonated. One of the anti-air vehicles brewed up next to his, splattering its parts against his hull.
His Driver drove for all he was worth, ducking and weaving in the open field. So did the other Longclaws. Some deployed curtains of smoke in front of them in desperation.
None of it seemed to help.
The shockwaves hit his Longclaw in quick succession, knocking him around the armored cabin and rattling his teeth.
Boom. Boom.
More Longclaws exploded. Many more. They were disappearing off his screen faster than the software could update the signals. He closed his eyes waiting for the end.
It didn’t come.
It was hard for Slurskoch to tell when the last Longclaw near them was hit. His hearing organs must have been damaged some time during the attack. His auditory senses ringed as they returned to normal, recovering when his Controller shook him with a paw on his shoulder. “—Five Whiskers! Five Whiskers!”
“What is it?” he snapped, keeping the quivering out of his voice.
“We’re alone in our company, and I can’t contact the six whiskers! And I’ve been trying to reach battalion without success!”
“Try the regiment commander!” he yelled out against the noise of the anti-grav engine.
“Can’t reach them either!”
“What about division headquarters?!”
“I think division’s gone, sir!”
“What?!”
“Nobody there has been responding. All I’ve got is a seven whiskers in the reserve infantry division behind us! They’re saying they see black smoke in the direction of our division field command!”
“What in the Prophecy? How is that possible?!”
“What do we do, Five Whiskers?”
Slurskoch had been trained for a wide variety of combat scenarios and contingencies, including losing his immediate superiors, losing most of his unit, and losing his communication link to command. But he’d never been trained for all of those combined at once. That was just not something predators were supposed to be able to do to you.
He fell back to the next best thing.
“What’s the combat computer say?” he asked.
His Controller operated the controls on her console, and after half a minute of querying, she replied, reading off the instructions, “Absent orders, continue the attack. Maybe we can push through.”
“What? Did it take our losses into account?” he protested as he checked the battlemap. Of the nearly five hundred Longclaws that had pushed out of the assembly area, only a quarter remained. At most. Some of the signals on the map were flagging themselves as mobility or mission killed.
She shrugged, “It did. That’s what it says.”
He squinted at her screen. That was indeed what it said.
Slurskoch thought for a moment, sighed, and bowed in prayer, “Our lives were forfeited the day we left our hatchling pools.”
The other crew members all did the same, lowering their heads to mutter the familiar mantra.
That ritual out of the way, he drew up to his full height of 1 meter and mustered all the confidence he could into his voice, “Attack! Attack! Attack!”
POV: Graunsa, Malgeir Federation Planetary Defense Force (Rank: Delta Leader)
The command center watched glumly as the hundred or so surviving Grass Eater Longclaws emerged from the wrecks of their comrades and slowly resumed their charge across the open toward the defense lines.
The flying machines had gotten a lot of them. Quite a few disabled too. And they were disorganized from the loss of their command. Yet they still charged. Diminished as their numbers were, they rolled towards the battered defensive lines with psychotic determination.
We’ve failed.
Graunsa sat down heavily into his chair. He brought up his communication console, connecting it to the advisor network.
The alien appeared on the screen, and though he couldn’t see its face, he could hear the sympathy in its translated voice, “You’ve done all you can, Special Platoon Commander.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he said, shaking his ears sadly. “They’re going to break through our line. Our infantry can’t stop them.”
It tilted its head. “I wouldn’t count them out completely, Delta Leader. They might. They might not. But your next defensive line certainly will hold them. The city behind you will be held.”
“Tracking enemy orbit-to-ground. ETA three minutes,” Gassin reported quietly from next to him.
Graunsa sighed. He looked at the alien, “I think I understand your people now, advisor.”
“You… do?”
“Yeah, at first, when we were picked for this mission, I wondered why your people were doing this.”
“Doing this?” the alien asked, seeming confused.
“Helping us. The weapons. The equipment. The training. The targeting. It was all in secret, but you didn’t have to do it. The other species around us didn’t do it. The Schpriss…” Graunsa snorted, “The long-tails can’t even find it in their spines to send us field rations. I thought your species… your people were just generous. Or perhaps you simply enjoyed the craft of war, being so adept at it.”
“Are we… not?”
“Those reasons may be part of it,” he conceded. “But more importantly, I think your people understand one thing the other species don’t… that we might stop the enemy here. Or we might not.”
“We didn’t set you up to fail, if that’s what you think—”
“But the next defensive line certainly will hold them,” Graunsa said, staring the alien in the eye. “You will hold them. Isn’t that right?”
It sighed. “I would be lying if that wasn’t part of the strategic equation. Our star systems are indeed next in line — sometime in the next decade or two, probably — if these bloodthirsty Buns conquered your Federation. That harsh astropolitical realism. But there’s something else too.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” it nodded its head firmly in a familiar manner. “Yes, there is. We aren’t a particularly long-sighted species, Graunsa. We can plan, yes, but wars are fought by true believers. People don’t sign up to put their lives on the line for a hypothetical, potential invasion of our Republic twenty years in the future. They— we signed up for this because we truly believe what’s happening to your people… it shouldn’t happen to anyone, ever.”
Graunsa looked at the helmeted head for a while, then nodded. “I believe you, advisor.”
“I’m sorry this didn’t pan out, Graunsa. If I could, I’d be down there with you. We’d have made them pay for this.”
Graunsa smiled. “I believe you about that too. Thank you, advisor, whatever your name is.”
“You may call me Kara,” it said simply. A deft snap of its paws — he hadn’t noticed how soft its claws were before — and it released a latch on its helmet with a hiss. Lifting it from its head, it revealed a soft, smooth face without much fur except a bundle of long, brown strands on its scalp tied up in a neat spherical shape. Its hazel forward-facing eyes stared at him with the empathy that only other predators were capable of, filling him with mild relief. “Don’t tell anyone though,” it joked lightly, mirroring his smile back at him.
You’re not as ugly as I thought you’d be. Not nearly.
Graunsa’s grin widened at the thought. He put it out of his mind. “Ah. One last thing, advisor— Kara.”
“Yes?”
His mind drifted to his cubs at home. Perhaps they were still alive. He chose to believe that. “Our people’s clans and packs…”
“We’ll let them know,” she interrupted him softly. “And when the information quarantine is lifted, we’ll let your clans and packs know what you did here — everything.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gassin sat down next to him, “Delta Leader, enemy missiles incoming. ETA thirty seconds, they’re entering—” She stopped her report and stared at the unmasked alien on his screen with equal parts wonder and sadness.
“Take a closer look, Gassin,” he ordered softly. “That… that is who will avenge us.”
On screen, the alien put its gloved paw up to its temple, forming a stiff triangle with its arm in a recognizable salute. “It was an honor, Graunsa.”
Graunsa returned it crisply, letting a primitive fire shine through his face. “Happy hunting, Kara.”

Location: Atlas Naval Command, Luna

POV: “Kara”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
Kara watched solemnly as the green signal blinked off the battlemap. She closed her eyes for a moment in silent prayer for the fallen.
Beep. Beep.
Another light on her console blinked urgently for her attention. Four thousand kilometers from the previous one. The war raged on — day and night — across four continents on the besieged planet. Fifty light years from the Republic, its defenders’ sweat, tears, and blood lined the fields and valleys of the beautiful blue sphere not so different from her own. Tens of millions of them: many who she knew would not see the end of this war.
They didn’t all know it, and some might not have cared, but fifty light years away, someone recorded their names, and someone felt a pang of loss for their sacrifice. In the cold, dark forest of the galaxy, somebody heard their trees fall.
Kara collected her thoughts, adjusted the bun in her hair, and lowered the tinted EVA helmet over her face once more.
She cleared her throat as she glanced at the screen and activated the microphone in her helmet, “Special Platoon Commander Treiriu. This call is encrypted, but the enemy Znosians in orbit are trying to find your location from the signals, so we’ll have to make it as quick as we can. Have your defensive lines completed your preparations?”

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Thanks for reading my story! This is a standalone chapter in my Grass Eaters story, meant to be enjoyable all on its own. If you're interested in more of my writing, please do subscribe to the update waffle bot or check out the rest of the universe in Grass Eaters.
(Grass Eaters posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We are closing in on the end of Book 1.)

I’m still a bit new to Kcals and cat food, so i just want to make sure my math is right and i’m feeding my cat enough.
We are trying to feed him around 215 Calories per day(he weighs 15 lbs and we’re trying to get him to 13) and this is what we’ve been feeding him and the schedule.
6am - Quarter of a can of wet food(42-43 Kcals) On the can it says 169 Kcals/can, so i was calculating it to be 42-43 Kcals
12pm - 1/4 cup of dry food(~117 kcals) and a booster(24 kcals) The bag of dry food says there is 469 Kcals/cup, we rounded up and decided to give him 1/4 cup. Booster says it’s just 24 kcals.
6pm - Quarter of a can of wet food(42-43 Kcals)
It comes out to 215-225 kcals a day if my math is right.
Does this seem right? I see a lot of people on social media and some friends feeding their cats way more than what i feel like im feeding mine, or at least it seems that way.
Thank you for any advice!

So I've been seeing the same psychiatrist for 8 months now. In that time she has prescribed me 10 different meds from high blood pressure meds to antidepressants to antipsychotics. She claims i just have anxiety. Even though she hasn't diagnosed me with anxiety. Shes diagnosed me with panic disorder, mood disorder, ptsd, and insomnia. My GP diagnosed me with agoraphobia with panic attacks and referred me to this psych.
I have not seen any improvement whatsoever in these 8 months. She will not prescribe anything controlled. No benzos no sleeping pills nothing. Antidepressants and blood pressure meds. She says all my anxiety is from quitting drinking 10 months ago and antidepressants will sure be the cure all. She hasn't even acknowledged the agoraphobia that I was referred to her for. She just says "well you already have a lot going on, let's focus on that."
I'm also diagnosed with adhd,ocd, and a few others from my GP. So im thinking about trying a different approach for my treatment plan. Instead of focusing on the agoraphobia and panic attacks i want to focus in ADHD and maybe my oanic disorder will be more manageable. Do you think i should ask my psychiatrist for stimulants or just go back to my GP and let him know everything the psych has done has been of no help. So he can refer me to someone new or start treating me himself.
I'm afraid my psychiatrist thinks i am drug seeking because I've asked her for benzos for panic disorder and i also ask her for lunesta for insomnia and she says she doesn't do that. I am just at a loss here and don't know how to continue on. I feel like she is just there for a paycheck and doesn't care about my well being. Or she just thinks i want drugs and hurries me out everytime i go see her.

The Infinity Dragon aims to build futuristic drugs and use certain current drugs and herbs such as Adipex, Kratom, Khat, Weed, Memantine, 4F-MPH and Tropoflavin stack, 6-APB (The MDA, MDMA, and MDEA of the future), IAP (IndanylAminoPropane. Mild form of MDMA), IMAP (IndanylMethylAminoPropane), 2-methyl-2-butanol (the future of drinking alcohol), Modafinil (the future of caffeine), Armodafinil, DMAX, D,L-Deprenyl (D-Deprenyl + L-Deprenyl. The MAOI antidepressant and anti-ADHD of the future.), Cheese, Bretazenil, Afobazole, Sunifiram, Cardarine, Phenylpiracetam Hydrazide, and more to raise the ceiling of happiness towards super happiness and beyond and reduce the leakage of superhappiness yellow fluid using to feel happier than normal for longer using Selegiline, Moclobemide, Opicapone, and Flopropione. Pain and suffering will eventually be replaced with a functional equivalent of pain in suffering as a chip in your brain without the raw nasty feelings. If a pill and herbs combo has too many side effects or if you just don't want super happiness anymore, you can just stop taking the pills and herbs.

Long story short i might be moving to the Caribbean for med school and i need my medication to study. Do you guys think i can still see my psychiatrist while im there. I usually just text him once a month, he sends my pills, i pick it up, then i see him every 3-4 months for follow ups and adjustments .Is there a reason why he won’t be able to write my prescription for me as I’m there, I’d still have the same insurance in my state.

Hi, I just needed some place to vent, I want to talk about my life in detail and I think this is the right place as I don't think anyone from my society would find it, even if they do, no one will recognize me Head upset it's gonna be very long^ Also English isn't my first language so bear with my mistakes please
So I (25f) have been married for 4 years (and got engaged a year before) to my husband (28m) and we have a child who is 2yo
I didn't get married out of love nor was I interested in marriage life in the first place, I just wanted to get out of my family house I got abused almost my whole life, when I was little my father got arrested (thank God) so he wasn't around for almost 12 years, I never knew what was the case and I honestly don't care. Anyway, despite my father being gone, my older brother took the job of abusing the rest of us I still remember getting slapped to the wall for not opening the door to him quickly, and multiple times of verbal abuse etc, yet he also wasn't around much so he wasn't that big of a deal Anyway, as I entered school specifically on my second grade One of the teachers got her eye on me, I used to skip school a lot but that didn't affect my grades in anyway, idk why she was so pissed with me for that, she would get me out of class and make me stand out of the door for a whole period, or yelling at me and calling me a liar, or trying to shame me in front of my classmates, taking me to the principal office any chance she can to make her also yell at me (yes, just because I skipped) I wasn't a trouble maker, actually I was pretty quiet I still don't understand what was the issue with her. At first I was so scared of her I couldn't even tell my mom about it, as a child that teacher convinced me that even my mom is disappointed with me and wouldn't believe or stand up for me so I kept quiet for a year. On my 3rd grade I had a meltdown out of fear of going to school and see her again and I told my mother about everything, she was very angry and went to school to confront her, the school staff sided with her and said she was only looking out for me, my mom made them promise not to bully me again However that didn't change anything I counted skipping school and she quickly got back to the bullying I used to tell my mom I wanted to change schools but she always said I wouldn't handle other schools as they all do lots of homework and I hated doing homework (my school didn't focus on doing homeworks) so, that shit kept going my whole elementary school days Nothing made her stop, my mom didn't want to make an official complaint as she didn't want the guilt of getting the teacher fired, and small talk didn't do anything and she just kept bullying me.
I don't know if I forgive my mom for that or not, I was a child, but she also didn't know better I think I'm just disappointed with her
Anyway, on my 6th grade I got enough and told my mom I want to quit school for good She agreed and I felt relieved for the first time in years However, 2 weeks later we got a call from my school and I answered, on the other line was the exact same teacher asking why I haven't been coming to school for the last 2 weeks I panicked and hung up the phone on her, I asked my mom about it and she said she didn't get me off school as she thought maybe if I just stopped going for a while I would eventually clear my mind and decide to get back I felt pretty awful, I really thought she had my back but i guess not I refused to go anyway and she tried everything to convince me but nothing worked In the end she agreed to transfer me to another school that's more laid back, That was her last option because that school's fees were kinda high I agreed and got there and finished the year.
Anyway the damage was done so I refused any kind of public schools anymore My mom (again) convinced me to try going to the same middle school as my cousin whom I was close to I tried for half a year and just gave up, I told her either I start homeschooling or I would quit for good Finally my mom agreed to that and I kept homeschooling until I graduated high school.
Around my 1st grade of high school my father got out of jail, I didn't really know his personality and my family made me believe he was an admirable person, that image of him didn't last a day after he came back. I quickly realized he's abusive too, he would yell everyday for the stupidest things (why you have many dishes? Why are you eating instant noodles? Why are you hiding in your room? Why did you take 2 tissues instead of 1??) He would also slap my younger brother for anything, even my mom got slapped multiple times I somehow didn't get hit by him, but he would come to my room as I was sleeping to yell at me for my abnormal sleeping schedule, or open my closet and yell for having exposed clothes That got my anxiety levels so high I started locking up my room when I sleep, even wake up multiple times to check the locks Then one day he threw the worst fit at me for whatever reason, I think it was (sleeping to many hours and using the phone too much) or some shit like that Anyway he kept yelling and threatening me for hours and it still the worst day of my life. Anyway after that I got several panic attacks and got into deep depression / anxiety I really thought of ending myself but I wasn't that brave
So, I finally decided to seek therapy, I went and told everything and they described me some pills to get better.
At that time I got engaged, the guy was decent and I wanted any way to get out of the house My culture doesn't allow you to move out unless you're married or have a big carrier that took you out of home So I was really stuck there. I told my husband (then fiancé) about my mental state and he was really supportive I got married and it was really hard for me, I hated physical communication and even the emotional stuff would get me so irritated, but eventually I got used to it and started acting like a very loving wife My husband thinks I'm the best wife in the world Little did he know I just do anything that would make things easier for me and that encluded not having fights and do whatever the other person wants so I wouldn't have to face any annoying conversations (I know it's very unhealthy) So after a while I decided I wanted a child, I actually always dreamed of being a mom but my anxiety used to get in the way, so when my meds did it's job and I felt more secure I thought it was time for it, I told my therapist and she also agreed that I was ready for that
So finally I had my baby girl and she's absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me I love her so much and I finally felt alive after having her And my life seemed to be finally settled, I had a great husband, he loves me so much and really care for me, he hired a weekly cleaning service and doesn't really ask me for anything except making food sometimes since he can't really cook (he have an injury that make it hard for him to stand up and do the physical chores) He's also very understanding of my mental Status and try his best to make me happy, I know he loves me a lot and I love him too, just not "that" way I really tried to love him but I just cant This isn't the life I wanted This isn't the life I dreamed of I can't feel satisfied whatsoever
I recently got worse mentally and Idk why, this year I got my child to pre-school and somehow that got my anxiety up again Is it because it's something similar to "schools"? Is because of the routine? Idk It's hard and Idk what to do
Might update later

The Gang got into an argument over who can stay awake longest after taking a bunch of sleeping pills. Everyone’s in Jerry’s apartment, it’s been three hours since they took the pills.
George: shit
Elaine: what?
George: huh?
Elaine: i don’t know I thought you said something
Jerry: do you think this was a good idea? I’m starting to have these thoughts about getting a dog and teaching him how to drive my car
Kramer: i feel perfectly fine…and I think that’s a great idea buddy
George: shit