Dear friends, I offer all the sets from Collector Cache 2021-2023, Immortal 2021-2022, other Mythical Set 2021-2024
I am not changing 1 cache set to another!!! Cache sets can be transferred only 1 time as a gift!!!

Hero	Set	Quantity	Price
Crownfall Tr. 1	Crownfall Tr. 1	Crownfall Tr. 1	Crownfall Tr. 1
Bloodseeker	Blood Raven	15	2.5$
Jakiro	Tines of the Pyreaxe	15	2.5$
Lina	Imperial Ember	15	2.5$
Disruptor	Designs of the Ancient Druud	15	2.5$
Nature's Prophet	Verdant Swarm	15	2.5$
Legion Commander	Phalanx of the Bronze Eagle	15	2.5$
Queen of Pain	Raven of Ristul	15	2.5$
Shadow Shaman	Eyes in the Endless Dark	15	2.5$
Wraith King	Crown of the Condor	6	5$
Silencer	Whispering Wings	6	7.5$
Meepo	Mocking Bird	2	20$
Crownfall Tr. 2	Crownfall Tr. 2	Crownfall Tr. 2	Crownfall Tr. 2
Puck	Mischief of the Winter Moth	15	2.5$
Skywrath Mage	Highborn Heretic	15	2.5$
Tinker	Twitcher	15	2.5$
Pugna	Keeper of the Nether-Lens	15	2.5$
Naga Siren	Song of the Sea Lotus	15	2.5$
Omniknight	Lionheart	15	2.5$
Keeper of the Light	Flight of the Gryphon Lord	15	2.5$
Ancient Apparition	Crystalline Crown	15	2.5$
Hoodwink	Birdfeed Bandit	6	7.5$
Zeus	Thunderbird	6	5$
Drow Ranger	Ravencloak	2	25$
Ursa	Owly Bear	1	15$
Coll Cache 23	Coll Cache 23	Coll Cache 23	Coll Cache 23
Primal Beast	PRIMEVAL ABOMINATION	16	4$
Dawnbreaker	ASTRAL HERALD	22	3$
Abaddon	SPECTRAL SHADOW	23	3$
Alchemist	TAUR RIDER	24	3$
Spectre	CRESCENT HUNTRESS	17	4$
Wraith King	TYRANT OF THE VEIL	20	3$
Hoodwink	TOMO'KAN FOOTSOLDIER	25	3$
Death Propet	DARKWOOD EULOGY	26	3$
Kunka	SEA SPIRIT	18	4$
Legion Commander	TRIUMPH OF THE IMPERATRIX	18	4$
Storm Spirit	BEAST OF THUNDER	19	4$
Jakiro	ANCESTRAL HERITAGE	24	3$
Dazzle	DEZUN VIPER	20	3$
MARCI	BRIGHTFIST	1	10$
Snapfire	SNAILFIRE	1	15$
Coll Cache I 22	Coll Cache I 22	Coll Cache I 22	Coll Cache I 22
Clockwerk	Seadog’s Stash	5	3$
Ursa	Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt	1	4$
Phoenix	Crimson Dawn	3	3$
Terrorblade	Forgotten Station	1	4$
Undying	Dirge Amplifier	4	3$
Monkey King	Champion of the Fire Lotus	3	3$
Witch Doctor	Deathstitch Shaman	6	3$
Coll Cache II 22	Coll Cache II 22	Coll Cache II 22	Coll Cache II 22
Silenser	Grand Supressor	1	3$
Alchemist	Darkbrew's Transgression	3	3$
Night Stalker	Feasts of Forever	1	4$
Vengeful Spirit	Acrimonies of Obsession	1	4$
Clinkz	Withering pain	3	4$
Ogre Magi	Freeboot Fortunes	2	3$
Treant Protector (Rare)	Grudges of the gallows tree	1	10$
Dead Reckoning	Dead Reckoning	Dead Reckoning	Dead Reckoning
Lina	Dead Heat	1	5$
Anti Mage	Spectral Hunter	1	5$
Dawnbreaker	Dying Light	2	5$
Sniper	Expired Gun	1	5$
Medusa	Death Adder	1	5$
Viper	Soul Serpent	1	5$
Coll Cache 22	Coll Cache 22	Coll Cache 22	Coll Cache 22
Chen	Perils of the red banks	3	4$
Coll Cache 21	Coll Cache 21	Coll Cache 21	Coll Cache 21
Enchantress	Caerulean Star	2	4$

I have been trading honestly for 3 years - all my reputation and merits are in my profile on the wall.
I want to remind you that all sets from the Collector Cache can be transferred only as a gift if you are friends for more than 30 days according to the rules of Steam.
Therefore, for the purchase, you add my profile to friends, write to me, pay for the goods and wait 30 days. IT is IMPORTANT that in order to buy a product, YOU MUST PAY WHEN ORDERING.
I accept Dota2 item, Arcana, Tf2 Key, Steam Gift Card for payment
There are Discounts - everything is negotiable.
My SteamRep [SteamRep]
My steam profile [Steam Profile]

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

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

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

25F no preexisting conditions. 4 days and getting worse. Inside of ear looks raw and red, is throbbing and feels swollen. Sometimes itchy. I don’t have insurance so I’m trying to figure it out… thank you for your advice https://imgur.com/a/5Akzi0E

Hi, this is gonna be a bit long, but let me explain the entire situation so far: Going back about a year or so, I started noticing an elevated heart rate above what I usually would have. I have an apple watch that allows me to check my heart rate, and around this time I started to get notifications that my heart rate was above average (in the 120s to 130s range while resting as opposed to my normal 60-80 range). This happened a few times along with some very minor chest pain / tightness, however after laying down for a few hours / going to bed it would usually return to normal. Around the same time I got diagnosed with anxiety and ADHD and placed on an SSRI to help my anxiety after trying ADHD meds and not liking them. I never really had any incidents with high heart rate after that, so I had assumed it was just anxiety causing it (and that may still be the case). A few months went by and I ended up starting college and got myself a girlfriend. As I ended up finding out, SSRIs, while great, have the unfortunate side effect of erectile dysfunction, so I weaned off my meds so I could prioritize my love life. There were a few incidents after this where my heart rate was above average, but again I just chalked this up to anxiety, as it would usually go away on its own. At one point I went into my on campus doctor's office just to verify my heart was okay after an elevated heart rate the night before, and they gave me an EKG which came up clear. Months go by, and things are fine, besides a slight uptick in anxiety. Unfortunately however, my relationship began to crumble and my anxiety skyrocketed, and we eventually broke up, which led me to talking to my doctor and getting placed back on anxiety medication. However, I really didn't like how SSRI's impacted my libido, so after trying a few more SSRI's I was placed on Buspirone. I love Buspirone, and it's made a noticeable difference on my confidence / reducing anxiety. When I take my full dose at once (30 mg), I tend to get a bit dizzy / nauseous, however when split up into 10 mg taken at breakfast lunch and dinner I have no noticeable side effects. I will say (and I don't know if this is in any way important but I'm just naming everything possible), I have noticed that since stopping the SSRIs and starting Buspirone I tend to ejaculate VERY fast which is abnormal for me, and although I would like to fix that it is not my main concern. Moving on though, after about a month or two after being placed on Buspirone, we get to where my heart problems start. As someone who had never used any substances my entire life, leaving home and going to college gave me the freedom to try new things, and although I know it's not great, on weekends me and my friends will get together and drink or occasionally smoke weed / take an edible. I was worried at first about interactions with my medication, but after some research all anything online could tell me was that I may get drunk faster / more nauseous and dizzy, which wasn't too big of a deal for me. I had tried weed earlier in college and didn't like the way it made me feel, however after being placed on Buspirone I decided to try it again and actually enjoyed the feeling, so I started doing it more on the weekends as opposed to just drinking, which leads us to the incident. Me and some friends had just sat down to watch a movie, and all taken an edible. Time passed, and I started to notice that my heart rate was extremely elevated, way more than I was usually used to. I checked my heart rate, and found that my watch was displaying an average of 160 bpm. At first I thought I was just having a bad high and tried to calm myself. I laid on the floor and put some ice on my forehead, but nothing was helping. I checked my heart rate again and saw that my watch was displaying 190, which really freaked me out as that was way higher than I had ever seen before. I had my sober friend call Public Safety for me, and they came to my dorm room and did a basic check up on me. They said that I had a fever, and when they took my heart rate they got something in the 160s range. Their explanation was that my anxiety, when combined with being high and likely being sick made my heart rate elevated, which made sense at the time. I went into my college's health services to follow up the next day since my heart rate was still elevated (in the 120s-130s range), however they again told me it was probably just anxiety. A few days went by and my heart rate was STILL above average, so I decided to double check with my real doctor off campus. About a day before this I had also stopped taking my medication to see if it could be the cause for my elevated heart rate. The doctors took my vitals and immediately noticed that had very high blood pressure and an elevated heart rate, to the point where they sent in a second doctor to recheck my vitals and make sure it was correct. After talking to me and having me give a run down of my symptoms, they had me schedule an appointment with a cardiologist and told me that if I ever experience chest pain and a heart rate above 100 bpm that wouldn't go down to go to the hospital. I had also told them about how I stopped taking my medication and they told me that that was fine and to tell the cardiologist about it. About a week passes, and I have my cardiologist appointment in a few days. I had been up the night before working on my final exams, so I hadn't gotten much sleep, and besides a breakfast sandwich that I had for lunch I hadn't eaten much either. I had been experiencing chest pain all day, but I assumed it was being caused by my lack of sleep, so after classes I went and took a nap. After a few hours I woke up, and immediately noticed that I still had chest pain. I checked my apple watch, and my heart rate was displaying roughly 90-110 bpm while laying down, which on top of the chest pain made me worried since my doctor had told me that that was cause to go to the hospital. I called my parents to tell them about it, and they drove to the school and had me sit in the car and eat some food they had made to see if it would help at all. However, even after this, my heart rate was still above 100 bpm and I still had chest pain, so my mom made the call to bring me to the hospital. While on the way to the hospital, out of nowhere my heart rate increased to about 170-180 bpm, which freaked me out. We arrived at the hospital, and they immediately gave me an EKG to make sure I wasn't going to drop dead. During this time, I also was shaking a lot and couldn't make myself stop. Eventually they took me into a room and decided to run some tests on me. The tests they did are as follows: BASIC METABOLIC PANEL, CBC WITH DIFF, TROPONIN NH, D DIMER DEEP VEIN THROMB LEVEL, TSH REFLEX, X-RAY CHEST PA AND LATERAL, and ECG-12 LEAD. While I'm not a doctor, from what they told me and from what I can see, everything turned up pretty normal. My potassium was a smidge low, as well as my MCV and MPV, and my Monocyte (absolute) was a tad high, but generally nothing to worry about. The website where I'm viewing my test results display my ECG as abnormal and an attached document says I have left atrial enlargement as well as sinus tachycardia, but they only mentioned sinus tachycardia in the hospital so I assume that it was just the machine reading my test results and giving its own diagnosis. Long story short though, I left the hospital a few hours later, and although I still had a slightly elevated heart rate they said I was fine to go about life normally and to follow up with my cardiologist. Cut to the present, and I just met with my cardiologist a couple days ago. I gave him the general rundown of the above story (but didn't mention the edible as a precursor to the 190 bpm heartrate as my mom was in the next room over and the door was wide open), and after checking my vitals he told me that although I did have an elevated heart rate and high blood pressure, my chest pain probably wasn't a huge concern and that he wasn't too worried it was anything life threatening. He told me I could resume taking my meds (which I had temporarily replaced with ashwagandha supplements while I waited for the appointment and have since stopped taking), and had me wear a little device that monitored my heart rate for 24 hours, which I'm set to return in a couple days. He also told me that when I returned it he would check my results and give me an echocardiogram and go from there. So, with any luck, he should be able to figure things out then. However, I wanted to post this to see if anyone could help me get any ideas on what it could be that I could run by him to help speed things up. I also have a recent theory of my own that I want to hear advice on. I was doing research and discovered that Buspirone, when taken with other medication that increases serotonin, can cause serotonin syndrome. After another google search, I found out that weed can increase serotonin levels. The only hole in that theory is that I stopped taking Buspirone after the initial spike in heart rate / blood pressure but had no noticeable changes. Oh and one last thing, if you can't think of anything in regards to what could be causing my elevated heart rate, I actually would like to know why I'm ejaculating so fast so I can fix it because its gotten to the point where I can't even enjoy masturbating because of how fast I cum.
In case I missed anything, here's a list of my symptoms (although I have no idea if they're all correlated): - High heart rate (anywhere from 90-190 bpm) - High blood pressure - Chest pain / tightness on my left side and does not hurt more when I breath in / out (every now and then pain extends to my neck and shoulder) - Frequently tired - Insomnia (could be correlated with the above symptom lol) - Get out of breath faster than usual - Anxiety (already had this though) - Mild depression (probably from my breakup) - Lack of motivation (probably from my ADHD) - Very rare and random spasms in my neck - Probably something minor that I'm forgetting but if I can't think of it it probably isn't important (will update this list if new symptoms arise)
TLDR: I have a high heart rate and blood pressure and can't figure out why

This is kinda long so
TL;DR: I developed derealization in November, and since it has made me hallucinate, delusional at times, disassociate from reality, paranoid, made me sometimes forget how to do simple tasks, draw blanks when having a conversation, and overall making me feel like there’s something not right neurologically. Last night I did not feel tired, even thought it was late at night, and a thought came to mind that I was developing fatal insomnia. Fatal insomnia doesn’t start with sleeplessness, it starts with symptoms like the ones I had prior. I’m terrified, and I can’t get medical attention rn. Help.
Alright, here we go. (Keep in mind that I have posted here before, just on another account)
Last night I was not tired at all. I already have the conventional insomnia, but most of the time I still felt tired, with an unquenchable desire to sleep, just not being able to. However, last night, I was completely tireless, but I still wanted to sleep, no longer because I was tired, but because I should have been asleep at the time. Eventually I just closed my eyes for a few minutes and I was asleep. Months before that, on the night of November 18, 2023, I closed my eyes to sleep, when I saw a green orb on the side of my vision. It moved almost like it was alive, and then left my field of view. I opened my eyes to a world that felt a lot more fabricated than before, physically. I felt realization before in those small doses that everyone has once in a while. But this time, it was here to stay. The next day, everything felt unreal, and the it was terrifying. Thankfully, if I stopped thinking about it and distracted myself, I would feel better. Two months later, it got worse. Things started feeling really blurry, and any artificial light (especially at night) looked saturated and was almost painful to look at. I began to not recognize everyday things, like my own face, and it would almost scare me. I would be in a constant state of paranoia. My (regular) insomnia, that I had prior, got to me, and I would wake up in the middle of the night, completely delusional, believing I’m a different person. I thought I was a soldier in war, and a character in an FPS game, and some more that I forgot. After a few minutes though at most, I would slap some sense into myself. I started hallucinating too, seeing dark figures, glowing dots, and faces. It only got worse, so awful that the only place I felt I were in, were my thoughts, which were often negative at this point. I don’t know what would warrant such a state of mind; My life has been going relatively well, so there would be no reason for me to go into derealization. I started feeling dizzy often, My head sometimes hurt, and starting last month, I noticed what I can only assume to be a cognitive decline. I’ve always been a little half witted, Having a bad memory and learning things very slowly, but my communication skills were getting worse as I was struggling to find words in conversations. I also started messing up on routine things, often because I was overthinking them. My delusions were slipping into daytime too, where my derealization would disassociate me from the world so much that I would believe I was somewhere else doing something else, but the duration of this would be a fraction of a second. Oddly enough, I don’t seem to develop ataxia. This ties into fatal insomnia considering that the condition often doesn’t start with the lack of sleep, but a mental decline, not necessarily a severe one (I’m not an expert obviously) And up until last night, I may have been in that stage. This is the start of the insomnia, I’m scared. The youngest person to die from sporadic fatal insomnia was the same age I am (16) I would drive to a doctor, but my parents aren’t allowing me to get a drivers license until i’m 18. I also cannot convince my parents to take me to the doctors because it’s a “waste of their time.” At this point the only thing I can do is exaggerate the symptoms now. As of typing this I don’t even feel like I truly am. I just feel like a jumble of thoughts watching something moving.

Rather you're on a tent or in a sleeping bag you should always try to sleep on clear flat ground. Or flat enough ground to where you're not sliding down in the tent all night rather you have a mattress or not. I was on a hill for only a few months and got arthritis which really didn't set in till some months in of sleeping on the hill. I know have back pain often and a swollen lower back at times.
So yeah watch what you do. It's easier to find flat ground if you're in a sleeping bag but that would mean you'd be taking the risk of sleeping in empty parking lots or ok sidewalk outside stores. If you're camping correctly you'd be in the woods or some similar isolated place full of grass but it's hard to find flat ground there at times.
Then you have to move the tent every so often because ants take over for what ever reason. But yeah watch how you sleep and if needed have a good pillow. Being homeless can mess up your back and stuff and I guess that's why they call it "sleeping rough". It doesn't matter how young you are you can get pinched nerves, slipped disk, athirits, etc etc.

The shuttle rocked in the rain as it approached the surface. The last bastion. The place where she awaited
You heard stories. Hell, youd been present for some, seen things that would have broken any mortals mind as it had done so many others. And while you were just a mere mortal you endured for one reason.
Love.
How ironic that they decided it must be you to take her life
"Entered through the atmosphere, we seem to be undetected" the pilot lies, you know your night and know that she probably saw you enter the system "ETA 1 hour to drop point" you don't dignify him with a response, you've barely talked to anyone sense the order
Your wargear clatters as the shuttle shakes in the wind. Special gear, that of an elite assassin, second probably only to hers in stealth and lethality. Dozens of blades and poisons so toxic you were told to leave any of the adamantite shells after an hour on the planet. Your every move planned and thought out for weeks
None of it would matter. She told you herself how this would end. Your blade, her body. How there would be no fight even if she wanted to
You recall that day, it was in all honesty the most stable you had seen her ever. It was twilight, she refused to go out in the day, the two of you were sitting on a balcony. The two of you were sewing
Purple cloth lay in your lap. Golden thread hanging from your needle. You looked over at a curse, seeing her struggle to thread her needle
"Here, let me help" you gently rech over and guide her ever shakey hands through the eye. A brief smile, almost resembling a predator baring their teeth "thank you" she whispers "what would I do without you" she leans onto your shoulder, hands working on her project
"It doesn't matter love" you wrap your arm around her, surprisingly she accepts. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you see"
"I saw you leaving so many times" she starts to tremble as tears form in the corners of her eyes "so many have turned away from me. Even my sisters" she grabs tightly to your arm as she quietly sobs
You hold reach over and pat her back as she sobs into you "Sanguinia doesn't. Remember when she took you out to try that wine?" You reminder her
"I didn't like any of them, I finished the tasting in minutes and ruined the whole thing" the words come in between the sobs
"And then she took you around untill she sound something you liked, remember what it was?" You reach into your bag and produce a flask, uncorking it and waving it around the sobbing slows as she looks up through her fallen hair
You gently move your arm and she pushes into you. Taking the flask you hold it to her lips "what did you find out that day?" You hold the flask away, waiting for her answer
"That I liked hot chocolate" she mumbles as you reward her with the sugary treat, you feel her start to relax as you keep giving her sips
"That's right. And your sister found that out, one that didn't leave you" you say. Getting only a unidentifiable mumble in response "and ill always have some ready for you, I promise" feeling her tense up at your words
"Did I ever tell you about promises on my home world?" You cut off whatever she was about to say "back home they used to say that there were spirits that lived on promises. And that when you made one you made them happy, and as long as you kept their promise they'd help you in little ways." Between the chocolate and story she remains quiet
"And they'd say the bigger promise you made that the more they'd help you. Maybe only once, but you would know that they did" finishing your story "and I promise to you. I will be there for you. And I will have some ready for you" she sighs and takes the flask from your hands. Turning away from you she drinks it at her own pace.
Knowing she needs to process you return to your work. Finishing the last few stitches before turning "Kassandra" seeing her turn, drawing her needle with her teeth "I've got this for you" you hold up a simple scarf, made for someone of her size
She let's you wrap it around her neck, as you explain "I know it's cold sometimes when you go out in the night. And I know you get cold often so I figured I'd make this to keep you warm" taking the end of the scarf in her hands she sees a small golden heart with your initials in it "and that's so you remember who's waiting at home for you" you say with a kiss on her check
She doesn't move for a few minutes, before offering a simple shirt, one made of cloth and not flesh. "I made this after the last one" she mumbles out, her hair hiding most of her face "I know you didn't like it much"
Brushing the hair out of her glowing purple eyes you accept the shirt lovingly, before swapping your shirt out for it, it fits perfectly "I love it dear" you look into her eyes as she ducks her head
A faint smile visible
"DROP IN 10 SECONDS" the pilots voice snaps you out of your memories as you check and make sure everything is in place
"GO FOR DROP" the voice roars our over the engines as you jump from the shuttle. Grav shoot kicking in as you aproch the ground, landing in the courtyard. Looking back as the shuttle flys off, you steel yourself and approach the doors
They open as you approach, leading you into the hall where she sits at the end. "I knew they'd send you" her voice comes with a tone of a dead woman walking "the only one I couldn't bring myself to hurt" you see angry red lines all over her body as you approach
"Did they tell you what I did? How I ripped apart Regalia? How mich flesh I flensed from her?" Her voice rises in anger st the memory
You reach her as she looks up at you. A woman with nothing left "do it" she spits, directed at the ones who sent you here "kill me and be done with it" she looks down, not able to meet your eyes "please just make it quick" you faintly make out
Your heart weaps as your dagger raises, you look down upon your love. She doesn't move, resigned to her fate. Her hair flowing down covering her face "im sorry" you whisper as your arm falls forward...
You catch a flash of purple and gold between strands of her hair
Your dagger plunges into your chest. Right through the camera that you wore, a scream comes from Kassandra as she rushes to catch your falling body "no, no, no ,No" she repeats over and over, "I was the one to die not you" she starts desperately trying to stop the bleeding but has no knowledge
"You did die here" no pain in your voice, forced back for her sake "that's what they'll belive" you cough, blood splattering on your chest, your armor pried off by her hands to reveal the shirt she made for you and...
"Is that..." a sob breaks her sentence. Seeing the flask you always wore steaming in the cool air "I made a promise didn't I?" You grin turning into a wince as pain shoots through you "you know how promises are" you take the flask reach up, determind to have her drink
Only for your limbs to disobey you, the flask falling to the floor
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Long story short, I just got in a heated argument with my father over how he treats my 13 year old brother (more on that later). I am 21 years old and they still control a lot of my life. I am financially independent (technically, more on that later as well).
For some background. I was raised VERY religious. Those Christian moms you see on social media that was my father. I never went to prom (because godforbid I got out in the world). I went to a public high school but was still super sheltered. My life outside of school consisted of coming home and working on homework, the extra homework he assigned me, yelling because I never did "good enough," and church youth group (which I hated because I am not a Christian). I made good grades, mostly As, the occasional B, and one C (in chemistry, but I mean come on that shits hard). That was never good enough. Every single assignment I did he had to look at. Study guide for an exam. He had to look at it. Discussion board reply. You guessed it he looked at that too. I didn't get a phone until sophomore year of high school and when I did I got one of those shitty 80 dollar Samsung phones that you couldn't do shit on (and where he checked all my texts, notes, and emails). I was very sheltered. The extent of my fun was shooting the shit with my friends in the cafeteria at lunch and on the bus. I wasn't allowed to go to birthday parties or sleepovers or even go over to a friends house. He is raising my brother the same way, but way worse. If I am ever blessed with kids one day he has taught me what not to do.
Thankfully I am now in my third year of college. I picked a school he didn't want me to go to. Not because of money or anything he just said "you aren't going to a party school. There are too many idiots there you don't need to be around." I rebelled and committed to that school. Hands down the best decision I have ever made. I have a full ride scholarship that pays for my tuition (although it is dirt cheap for in-state already). I also have a scholarship that pays for rent for my 1100 dollar a month apartment and gives me about 500 spending money every month. I consider this my second best accomplisment as screwed up as that may sound. My father controls my money. All of it. I have a credit card that I use and then he pulls that money out of my account. I have no idea how much money I have and what he is doing with said money. He also has access to my Schwab and Vanguard accounts. He says he does this to help me with investing but I know there is more to it. He still wants to control me. I don't even know my damn login to the banking app for Christ sake (sorry not sorry dad for using the Lords name in vane). I know I should have fixed this issue sooner but I didn't want to fuck up our relationship. I am not sure what to do about this.
Another major problem came from this sheltered/overbearing environment I grew up in is my inability to say no to things I have never done before. Throughout my time in college I have experimented with drugs and alcohol (cocaine, weed, molly, lsd, shrooms, xans, oxy, you name it, pretty much with the exception of meth and heroin, I've done it and not just once). I am not proud of this (minus the fun I've had on psychs and even then not one of my better attributes). As a result of his abusive parenting style I have a hard time saying no and give in super easily to peer pressure. So much so that the first friends i met at college I still hang around with. These guys I probably shouldn't be around (the type where daddy pays for everything so they get a four-year drug fueled adventure in college). Don't get me wrong they aren't all that bad but just not the type of people I though I would be hanging around. I never thought I would be sleeping around, going to clubs on a Tuesday, and doing lines of coke off my island at 4pm but here we are. I am not proud of this but feel like I started doing these things because I was finally free. It is so hard to stop now. I think that I hang around them as a sense of rebellion to my parents and a sort of "f u" if you will. I know it is wrong but it feels good to finally be free. I have developed a raging nicotine addiction as well (something I am definitely not proud of). My parents have no idea. I have had to lie to them about things for the past three years.
I don't know if that is a result of my own actions or the years upon years upon years of constant yelling by my father. I mean for fucks sake the man never told me good job on anything. I got an A on a test it wasn't good job. It was "show me the test and what you got wrong," followed by a thirty minute yelling match about how I fucked up on the test. When I got into college on a full ride it wasn't good job it was "that is all because of me and the things I gave you." When I graduated high school it wasn't good job. It was my mom, god bless her she is great but tied down by my father, putting on a dinner party for me with all the neighbors and my parents friends. My dad was there but never even spoke to me (he just bullshitted to his friends about how I was such a hard worker (mind you he never told me this) and other things that narcissists do). I never was told good job when I got Eagle scout. That fucked me up, all of it. I am not one to want praise or one of those participation trophy people but come on that's fucked up at least in my mind. I never heard good job once.
He does the same shit to my brother but worse. My brother is 13 and in seventh grade at a private Christian K-12 school (one of those rich schools where the parents drive benzs and the kids have gucci shoes and shit). My father doesn't send my brother there because it is a better school, trust me, it is not by any stretch of the word. He sends him there to look better (aka "my kid goes to a private school you peasants" type of behavior). Recently, my brother was caught playing a computer game (papa's pizazaria on coolmathgames). Off topic but that is still the best one and you cannot change my mind. When he caught my brother they went at it for four hours. Now my dad checks my brothers search history, backpack and every single piece of paper in every binder every single day. He has moved my brothers desk into the living room and made my brother buy, with his own money, 300 dollar noise cancelling headphones to somehow be able to focus down there. My brother now has developed a twitch and the habit of twirling his hair. It was gotten so bad that some of his hair is falling out because of it and my dad refuses to take responsibility for it. The kid is so stressed that you would think he is on coke or meth the way he acts. He told me that he is scared when my dad comes home from work. I brought this up with my dad and asked him how he feels about his child being scared of him. My dad said nothing. Not one word. I am asking advice/thoughts on this situation.
To end things off I want advice on what I should do moving forward. I am home for the summer and working a job up here but am really considering not working and going back down to my school. I never had a normal childhood and can't stand my brother being treated this way. He is not allowed to go outside and play with the neighbor kids, watch TV, search ANYTHING on his computer, and take breaks longer than dinner away from his "schoolwork." I can't handle this shit anymore. I understand that part of my situation is my doing but I think it partly stems from the years of manipulation and control on behalf of my father. Am I overreacting? What would you do?
P.S. One final thing I wanted to say to get off my chest is that I do not respect this man. He yells at my mother constantly about how when she lets him be a kid and do kid things she is "setting him up for failure." I don't mean yelling I mean cussing and screaming to the point when I go to bed I can hear my mother crying. It hurts me to hear her cry it really does. I'm a bigger dude, 6 foot, 210, built. But that shit hurts. A fucking lot. I'm at the point where he needs to be confronted about it. I have lost every ounce of respect I have ever had for him. This may be an overreaction but I don't think so. He still controls my life. He tracks where I go in school, what I buy, etc. I have to lie to him sometimes but I am okay with that. This is the first real fun I have had in my life. I am doing pretty good in school, 3.1 gpa in a major I (not him) am happy in. I already have a job lined up outside of school making 58k straight out the gate. He has no idea because I don't tell him shit, he doesn't deserve to know in my mind. This is a man who will act super nice around everyone but our family. He is super active in the church and scouting, although he doesn't let my brother go anymore. He constantly gives to charity and volunteers around the community. You would never know this if you watched how our family operates on any given day behind closed doors. The only conversations I have with him now are about "why is there a charge for mexican food on the credit card. you should be studying," or my personal favorite "why is there a charge for x amount of dollars at a convenience store at 9:00 at night. Only bad people hang outside after dark (by bad people he is referring to everyone who is non-Christian by the way)."
This man has held me back so much even in college. I understand that this is partly my fault because as a legal adult I could have stopped this but I did not want to ruin our relationship. He stopped me from going on trips because "people could be drinkng" and has told me that on my 21st birthday (last week) that if he ever catches me drinking or vaping or anything I will not be allowed back into the house. I want to get clean but I do that shit as a fuck you to him. I apologize about cussing so much in here I'm just frustrated and need to get some stuff of my chest. I can't be the only one with parents like this. Right? I refuse to let this situation continue on. Should I do something about the way he treats me and my brother and mom? What do I do? What would you do? FYI cutting him out of my life entirely is not ideal because my mom and I still get along great. I would do it if there was a way to still be able to see my mom as they live in the same house. Minus certain political issues (mostly economic stuff) my dad and I don't agree on anything. He is the most judgemental person I have ever met in my life. I have met upwards of 1000 people in the past couple of years and he is by far the most judgemental person I have ever met. There is not even a close second.
Am I overreacting? What would you do in this situation? God bless and thanks for any and all responses/similar stories you all are willing to share. This seems like a great group of people. Stay blessed and if you need someone to talk to I am here for anything.

Been a while since I’ve done this sort of thing but here we go. I’ve been asked to shoot a senior night for a local high school. Started with just doing a favor for a friend and now they all want photos.
I had a good idea of what I wanted to do but I’ve picked up some “new to me” glass and I’d like some input.
I have at my disposal a 1DX Mk3 and a 5D Mk3 along with the full 2.8 trinity. I was planning on harnessing up and carrying both of them. I also recently picked up the 50 1.2 and 85 1.2 (thank you R series for making EF glass a little cheaper). I really wanted to use the 85 but I wasn’t sure which body to put it on as well as what I should put on the other body.

Hi apes,

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

WHATS WITH ALL THE MEMES FROM KITTY?

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

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

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

WHAT IS A SYNTHETIC SHARE? WTF IS A DARKPOOL?

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

OK SO WHEN IN THE FUCK IS MOASS?

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

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

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

for context, i was at an after party for ball (or prom for you americans) and he was there, i wasn’t expecting him to be there since he didn’t come to ball. it was a good night, i had some nice casual conversations with him and then went home at around 4am. once i got home i decided, hey let me shoot him a text since he had said something that didn’t really line up with other thing he had said. i said something along the lines of ‘hey king quick question’ and then proceeded to bring up something that we had previously talked about earlier that night. this was through instagram dms (we had never texted before) and it said that his phone was on quiet mode so i knew he wouldn’t get the text right away. immediately after sending it i had some regret and texted my friend about it asking if i should delete it, she said no but i was convinced i should since he wouldn’t have gotten the notification yet. what i had said wasn’t inherently that bad but it was slightly embarrassing and completely unnecessary, i don’t want him to think i’m weird. then he was active on instagram but he didn’t view my texts (i’m pretty sure he doesn’t really check his dms often). eventually, he was inactive again and i decided to delete the messages before he could see them. now i know that when a person deletes a message on instagram, you don’t get the notification for it (me and my friend tested this). but i never really know for sure and i’m terrified that he got the messages and then didn’t open them and then saw that they were gone. i see him tomorrow and i’m very scared the he knows and he’s gonna bring it up like what am i supposed to say. ‘oh yeah i wanted to ask a question but then i figured you would be asleep so i deleted it’ that’s not convincing and plus there’s nothing that i would need to ask him in that exact moment unless i just use the excuse of sleep deprivation and that i wasn’t thinking straight. i’m so embarrassed and anxious and don’t know what to do! there’s not much i can do, i know.

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

I don't know exactly when my pain started but it became worse as I began working in a huge hardware store. If you know anything about these stores it's that they have concrete floors. Standing on said floors for 9-12 hours a day and walking to and from work can really take a toll on the body. Especially if you have some sort of unchecked issue within. I would wake up in the middle of the night often not being able to stand on my left leg+foot for a while. This happened through out highschool and I thought my body was just trying to wake up. Then, when I started working I noticed it hurt worse and it often hurt to sit down.
This was taken care of through months of physical therapy. I learned it was my SI joint in the small of my back. This wasn't the only issue though. I also had consistent back pain. I could temporarily get rid of it with some pain meds and go on my way. But then the pain became a shooting pain. This would start in my hip and down my leg. As time went on, it spread worse to my other hip and leg. Then up my back and to my foot. The shooting is a extremely painful and quick sensation. It used to not linger.
I have tried to get this fixed ever since I went to PT. Everyone has made me been over backwards or laughed at me. My pain and symptoms are accelerating. I noticed a month or two ago that I was shaking more than usual. Normally this is caused my stress or anxiety. I chalked it up to that because my medicine normally takes it away. It gradually got worse though. I started to get pins and needles in my right arm. Shocks of pain down said arm and hand. Now, it uncontrollably shakes when I start feeling pain in that hand.
Today this has been the most pain I've ever felt in my 22 years on this earth. I've never felt more embarrassed in my life as well. I've always been okay with helping my mom out when her body hurts her as well but I've never had to almost carry her. She had to almost carry me to bed after asking me to squeegee the water out of the mop. My hands were too weak to hold them. My legs were giving out beneath me. All I could do was sob. It hurts so much. I just want someone to fix me. No one believes me because I'm 'too young'. I know I need the help. I have the insurance and want to use it while I can. I am so sick of waiting until things go horribly. I've almost fallen down so many times because of this pain. It hurts so much I can't even think right at times. Everyone in my life thinks it's a joke.
I just want someone to see me. I just want to know what's wrong with me. I don't wanna life my life in pain anymore. I've done that for years mentally. I don't wanna physically do this. It's gotten so bad it's started affecting my mental health just as it got good. I don't wanna fail myself. I know I deserve more than this. Anyone know what it could be?

To give a little background, my (42f) last long term relationship ended after 10 years, three months before our wedding.
Everything was booked and planned and paid for. He picked me up from work one day and confessed he couldn’t marry me because he wasn’t in love with me anymore. There was no discussion, no attempt or willingness to try to work things out. It was just done.
I was broken. After that, once I started to recover I found myself reconnecting with my childhood sweetheart. The more time we spent together the more we discovered we still loved each other. The problem was he was with another girl. I will strongly emphasis that at no point did we ever do anything physical with one another. No kissing, no inappropriate touching, nothing.
He strung me along for a year telling me how unhappy he was and they were sleeping in separate bedrooms and like an idiot I believed him. I know, I know. 🫣
Eventually I told him he couldn’t keep on having what I considered an emotional affair and not tell his gf. He agreed and went home to do exactly that.
Turns out (according to him), that he told her, she broke down and he decided to stay with her. I’m sure everyone else here is not in the least surprised.
After that I decided I’d prefer to be alone than experience the kind of pain and shame of those two “relationships” again.
Along comes my now husband (36m) We met online and bonded instantly. We met in person a bunch of times, flying to and from each others countries until I quit my job and moved to his to be together.
After a few years we bought a house together, then had a baby and then god married. We’ve been together six years now and have been so so happy. We joke about how alike we are and how we’re practically the same person just of the opposite sex.
He’s not perfect, neither am I but we’ve always made it work and we might disagree and snap at one another occasionally but we’ve never had a massive blow out fight.
I’ve been sick for a while and it’s made me depressed, I’m also not working because we’ve also moved to yet another country where I’m not fluent in the language and am six months pregnant with our second child.
Now here is the problem. We’ve grown distant, he’s stressed and tired, I’m stressed and tired and / or sick and our son is a wonderful, kind, animated little soul who has endless endless energy but we both have struggled with him because we don’t have the energy to keep up with him. He’s not got any issues that we’re aware of, nothing has been highlighted by his kindergarten teachers except a short tempter but everyone admits that he’s a handful due to his boundless energy, endless chatter and somewhat wilful nature.
I’ve started to feel as though my husband doesn’t love me anymore. He’s admitted he feels put off from penatrative intercourse due to the pregnancy and honestly that’s quite common. He’s also told me how he feels like he never has any alone time.
Either myself or our son are always home and he feels stretched thin and over stimulated. As a loner, I totally understand those feelings but part of me worries he’s also falling out of love with me.
He admits that a spark has diminished and he hopes it comes back after things settle down and assures me that he still loves me.
We have a friend couple who we’ve recently started chatting to more and spending more time with and we both seem closer to the girl of the couple. I’m finding myself feeling insecure and jealous that he may be developing feelings for her.
She and her boyfriend seem happy and committed. They’re buying a house together and she’s talking about wanting kids with him. But when we’re out or hanging out as a four she and my husband still seem to be more interested in what they’re doing than their partners.
She’s younger and a very giggly bubbly girl and I like her but I’m stressed and don’t have that same happy energy I once had.
I suspect I’m over reacting and hormonal from the pregnancy but I can’t get past these feelings and I’m now almost in tears some nights and actually cried the other night when I told my husband how I felt.
I know he won’t cheat on me but that doesn’t mean his heart won’t want someone else.
What can I do to get over my insecurities?
TL;DR I’m worried my husband has fallen out of love with me, based on my past experiences and probably pregnancy hormones. How do I work on myself to get over this?

Hey yall, working nights once again. I'll be up till about 8am eastern. I'm down to chat about anything! Shoot me a message hope to talk to you soon! Take it easy!

Disclaimer: I am not an alcoholic 🙃
So I’m about to start LDN for chronic pain (POTS, EDS, CFS, and autoimmune) but curious about interactions with weed and alcohol. Because it’s a medication originally formed to treat addiction and block a “high,” if I’m taking it will alcohol no longer be enjoyable? It’s not that I’m addicted or anything like that but I enjoy getting drunk with my buddies every once in a while and I don’t necessarily want that to no longer be an option. If I skip a dose and drink that night will I get a buzz? Just curious and want to understand my medication fully :)

I don’t plan on flipping it up too often since I don’t really have any reason to. I’m going to church tomorrow and I just want to briefly flip it for a few hours. Please don’t judge me for this, I would just prefer for it to not be visible for right then. Will there be any issues with my piercing if I do that? I will clean it with saline every night and be sure to not mess with it too much after this. It doesn’t really matter to me too much if it will be a little uncomfortable or slightly painful at first. Thanks in advance!

i’m a 20F and i got my tonsillectomy the morning of may 10th. today is day 9. recovery was super easy days 3/4, and then it went downhill as expected. i spit up a blood clot about the size of a dollar coin and had a clot about the same size on my left tonsil, which i eventually swallowed (ew). however, since day 5ish, my right tonsil has healed like a champ and i have had genuinely 0/10 pain. my left tonsil however is so painful it is actually driving me crazy, and not in a metaphorical way. my ear has been aching for almost an entire week straight, and it feels like someone is pushing a rusty needle through my eardrum. to accompany it, my left side is in excruciating pain in ONE specific spot; and the rest is just sore. it feels like someone is burning my wounds with a lighter constantly. nothing i do helps except laying still on my ride side with a weighted ice pack. i have been in agony for 9 days. i’m not a wimp either, im aware how awful this recovery is. i have broken so many bones and had so many sprains and i have been in a lot of pain before but nothing like this. i have ehlers danlos hypermobility syndrome, im a redhead, i have endometriosis, i have a HIGH PAIN TOLERANCE. this is killing me. i feel like im going insane because of this, and like i am trapped in my body as a prison. my mind is a prison. i am in endless pain. i can’t eat or drink water and i don’t know what to do. i need any help or suggestions i can get. i’m extremely worried for my mental health. i can’t continue like this much longer. please i need advice and help. please

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