Alright guys so I usually don’t do this. I def write reviews for local businesses that I use or like a restaurant I go to that has recently opened. Have to support our neighbors.
However, I dealt with this one company recently. Oh my gosh, did not expect this from such a young company.
Anyway, we have owned 3 houses ever in our life. Always either had the hardwoods installed or the hardwoods refinished in our home before moving in. My wife has the allergy, so carpet is a no-go. And I love my wife. She is the mother of my children.
We recently moved into a house in Pittsford. We definitely were going to get new counter tops, remodel the bathrooms and repaint the rooms and get the floors refinished.
But, I have to talk about this flooring company. I got 3 quotes as usual. Like everybody should. Monroe Floor Resurfacing came in fairly steep but it was 110% worth the price. But we are talking (for my size of work) a couple grand difference. Between him and the second highest bidder is was like $1600. They offered us 4 options. They kind of do it like gas prices but it connects with real life stuff we see everyday so I kind of appreciate it to be honest. They call it Basic, Plus, Premium and UV. So far the only company that offered me a UV finish (WHATTTTT) which is what I went with, and makes up for the price.
The 3 companies I had come out, all dustless. Well “99%” and respectfully, you can’t be a complete idiot and expect not a spec of dust at all. It’s just how it is getting your floors refinished this is not our first rodeo with it LMAO
But here’s the thing that made me go with them…
I called. They answered. Their team was great with communication. They text back. They reply. They answer. No bullshit.
The estimate, the estimator was truthful and didn’t bullshit anything. Told me exactly what was going to happen, what to expect, and when to expect everything.
The service itself, top-notch. They are for the most part dustless. Obviously a little dust—but like I said before… what do you expect. They use the big roll of plastic you get from Lowe’s or Home Depot, and seal off all your doorways.
The stain was even across the floor. No weird spots. No sander marks.
And to finish everything off, they cleaned their work area (practically the whole house.) I did not have a to-do list of shit to clean behind them.
So their customer service/communication is 10/10. Their cleanliness is a 9.5/10. Their quality is 10/10.
If anybody here ever needs their hardwood floors refinished, Monroe Floor Resurfacing is the best fucking contractors out there. Literally never had such a smooth experience I had to share it. Not just flooring experience, but smoothest experience with a contractor I have ever had.
I’m done blabbering. They just finished my floor Saturday morning. I’m so fucking flabbergasted on this company. Something you would see on Pinterest. They’re that good. 😊

Olá! It's me! I'm Rickle Pick! Hello everyone!
So, I’ve been listening to some stories about Neckbeards and Kevins, as well as some Legbeards and Kevinas (Is that the correct term??). Well, most of the times I listen to those stories, I am reminded of some people I used to deal with in school. Specifically, this time, the tale of a guy, who I’ll name Roger Bacon for reasons soon to be explained. Sorry for any grammar errors, eu falo português! I also don't really know the posting rules here, so I'll just post it and see how it goes lol
This prologue is more of a compilation of stories that I think is needed before we get to the main shenanigans and awkward situations this guy put himself AND me into. If this generates any interest, I will post more specific tales of this weirdo! Long time lurker, first time poster, english is definitely not my first language and the whole shebang. I also never wrote a text this large, so go easy on me!
THE LIST:
Well, I guess it’s usual to make a list of people that appear in those stories, so I’ll make one just for you!
Me: Your basic musician-type nerdy theater kid white guy! Tall, thin with medium-light brown hair. At the time, I usually wore a leather jacket and sometimes a hat (not a fedora, a Chaplin hat. Also, where I live, hats are an acceptable attire choice lol). I kinda looked like the Once-ler from Lorax. At this time, I had just failed my second year of high school because of… honestly just lack of effort, mixed with undiagnosed ADHD and a bit of lacking in the ol’ confidence and self-respect department. At the time, I also was physically incapable of saying no and had a crippling fear of disappointing people.
Roger Bacon: 168 centimeters (or 5,5ft for the uncivilized) of pure muscle! Or at least he thought it was that way. In reality, he did have some muscles but was kinda chubby and flaccid. Not FAT fat, but athletic fat (???). He was mixed, light skinned, had shaved short curly hair, no beard (except for the inside beard) and his face was a special kind of oval, besides having a, "chiseled jaw". He always smelled like he had just gotten out of a day-long brawl with a french cologne wearing burrito. He wasn't an usual neckbeard, but he was a huge attention whore. Thought too much of himself, as we say here in Brazil: “Promised too much, delivered nothing at all.” His moto was: “Dude, I think she’s into me!”
For now, these are the characters, as the focus is to introduce you all to Roger Bacon as a person.
With the list over, let us get to the story.
FEBUARY 2018:
The year of 2018 started pretty badly for me. I had just been held back from 10th grade, had no friends and didn’t really know anyone. As most people know, high school in Brazil is quite different from America, as we start school in febuary and we share the same class with the same people all day, excluding language classes and extra-curriculum activities. This meant that, for the foreseeable future, I was alone. On the first day of school, I shyly sat on the last desk on the far right corner of the room, as I scanned my classroom to see what I was dealing with. A few groups of people sitting together, talking and greeting their friends, some loners reading or playing on their phones. The artsy girl drawing a beauriful woman on the white board. Some guy drawing a penis right beside her. Perfect balance. A normal classroom.
Another difference between our school systems is that we don’t really have clicks based on like Jocks or Nerds or Pretty Girls, it’s mostly people who connected in childhood or matched personalities, instead of connecting through roles and interests within the school. Not saying either one is better, just different. And yeah, the bullying situation is just as bad. I was bullied for my whole middle school and through first year of high school, and made a very specific group of low profile friends. So when I failed sophomore year I thought to myself “Screw it, if I’m going to be held back, that’s at least a second chance for me to grow an acceptable social life.”
All this elucidates how intimidating it could be for someone to join a new classroom full of mostly new faces. If you were unable to make a friend, you’d pretty much be on your own for the whole year unless an already formed group “adopted” you. So my mindset was to at least try and meet new people.
Well, have you ever said “I’m gonna do this thing I’ve never done before!” And got the worst possible circunstance you could get at the very first attempt? Welp, that’s just what happened. My strategy was to start small, and go talk to only one person at first, and then try to interact with a few of the groups as that was a bit intimidating (fun fact: we call “clicks “panelinhas”, spelled “pah-neh-lin-ias”, wich means “little pans”, because, you know, they’re closed groups, like a closed… pan. Idk, anyway), so I went up to this guy in front of me, and that guy was Roger Bacon.
He was almost lying on his chair, on a cool guy pose while messing around on his phone. He was also wearing a black sports tank top with a grey opened sweatshirt and the standard uniform wine-red shorts that were mandatory in our school, which made him look like a short and jelly version of Rocky balboa mixed with Kick Buttowski.
In real life, my name and his started with sequential letters, and because of this, we would sit near each other for the whole year, so I guessed he’d be the best person to interact with. I also KINDA knew him because we had basketball training after class in like 2015 and I went to the same church as him, in which I befriended his brother, Kevin, slightly, but didn’t have much contact with him because he had already graduated (I have some stories about basketball and church so tell me if yall wanna read them lol). I approached and gestured for him to take of his headphones (They were extremely loud, so I could recognize he was listening to the song In The End by Linkin Park).
Me: Hey! Aren’t you Roger? You’re Kevin’s brother, right?
RB, trying to sound stoic: “Oh, hey Rick. Yeah, it’s me… fortunately for you.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
RB explained: “Well, I’m the cool brother! Kevin was lame, and also had no friends.”
Me: “Isn’t he in a band with [insert band members]? They seem to be his friends…
RB: “They might look nice, but they’re all assholes. Don’t let them fool you! I’m the nice brother, Kevin is a dipshit.
To elucidate you: that band he said was made of assholes was the Worship band of the church we went to. It was also the worship band that I occasionally played the piano with.
I said, jokingly: “Guess I’m an asshole then! Because, ya know, I play with them more often than not”
RB: “No man, it’s just them. They’re just so infuriating! They never let me participate!”
Me: “Wow, that’s weird… I mean, I didn’t know you were a musician too! What instrument do you play?”
RB: “I play the drums, piano, guitar, bass and I also sing. But Kevin keeps me out because he wants to be the 'star brother'!”
I could tell he got a little heated, and went silent for a little while. I decided not to mention the band or his brother in his presence, 'cause ya know, that was pretty awkward lol.
I remember thinking to myself “This guy’s kinda weird”, because his brother was one of the nicest people I had ever known, and he also didn’t have the say on who played on the band, the worship leader did. I thought about confronting Roger with this, but I didn’t want to abandon my quest of finding a friend. And also, he seemed chill at first, if not a little insecure.
I was a little uncomfortable with this line of conversation, so I opted to change the subject. We talked a bit more about me having been held back, and he went on about how he was really good at math and chemistry, and how he could help me with my school stuff.
I was glad to have someone to help me, and even more, someone who apparently liked the stuff I liked. I remembered what he was listening to, so I commented on it and asked which song was his favorite, and we talked about Linkin Park for a bit. He said “In The End” was his favorite song, and then I mentioned I was a huge Linkin Park fan. He told me he was a big fan as well, but as we talked about it, it became a bit fishy. He never specifically said anything and just kinda repeated what I said. It became clear after a while that “In The End” was, in fact, virtually the only song he knew from that band.
That was the first time I noticed something strange, but only in hindsight, as at the time I just thought he really wanted to make a human connection. I remember thinking he was just excited to know someone who was open to talking to him, so I didn’t think anything of it.
Also, not everyone memorizes this stuff, and maybe he did only remember one song, for whatever reason, so I let that pass. I only felt necessary to include this information because it was, at least in some way, the first lie that Roger told me, a little sample, if you will, of what’s to come.
After we talked for a while, mostly catching up on our lives, the bell rung and our first actual class had begun, and I had the first-hand experience of this guy’s sense of humor. The teacher walked into the classroom and introduced himself as the new Geography teacher, and started a power point presentation about some of the subjects we’d be covering that year, saying “Please pay attention to this class, as you’ll need to know how our schedule will work”. Roger looked back and said “Huh, I guess this class is useless for you then, being held back and all, hahah”, which made everyone look at me and just kinda stare like I should say something, and he kept repeating the joke to anyone that showed any reaction besides just staring, adding “Amirite? Huh? Amirite?”.
I was kinda salty about this, but my people pleasing peapod brain couldn’t handle letting it show, so I just laughed and said nothing. I guessed it was a poorly thought out joke at first, but then Roger proceeded to make the same comment on every single one of the opening classes we had for both of the introductory days. There were 12 of them. He did it every time. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes he repeated it even louder, as if he didn’t think people heard it, because no-one was laughing.
“Ok”, I said to myself, “He didn’t mean to make fun of me, he’s just a little overexcited and probably is trying to make a connection and help me get acquainted to our classmates.”
Either way, I was very uncomfortable and annoyed.
Thankfully, this came to a halt when he was practically thrown out of the Literature class for interrupting the teacher mid-sentence while she talked about how important the first month of class would be for our comprehension of the whole subject. He made the joke four times. FOUR TIMES. I was beginning to think that I made a mistake, but well, the mistake was already made, at least I can try and understand him a bit, before judging.
The rest of the week went by and he didn’t get any better, but I got kinda used to it. In fact, I actually enjoyed having conversations with him at recess, when we could talk a bit more freely. And, as all things in life tend to do, it got weirder. Weirder in the sense that as we spoke more and more, I noticed a bit of a concerning pattern: every time I shared an experience I had, he’d share a cooler and more awesome almost equal experience back.
Some light examples:
I told him I went hiking for 2-3 kilometers on a trail by the beach. Then he smirked and said he went hiking for “at least 7 kilometers on a deserted beach that only his father’s company’s employees had access to and he saw a Gorilla. There are no gorillas in Brazil. Maybe in zoos, I guess, but definitely no gorillas.
I told him I was kinda sad because I had just ended a “thing” with a girl from my old grade. He “proudly” said he’s been dumped by his ex, Laura, after they dated for 11 months and made out aaaallll the time after school, and he even saw her “lady parts” once!”.
And then he went on to describe that shit for like 3 straight classes, adding more and more to the story every chance he had to speak, providing me with my daily dose of cringe in tiny bits of uncomfortable information at a time! Like a sporadic cringe snack! Sninge! Crack? Probably Crack.
ANYWAYS
There was also the time I told him the story of how I became best friends with a guy because we got into a fight in P.E.. We were arguing about some nonsense and he wanted to fight, so after he socked me on my stomach, I cheaply kicked him in the face so hard I almost sprained my ankle and then we started laughing (because I guess sometimes that’s all it takes). Phillip is my best friend for almost 10 years now.
Roger puffed up his soap dish chest went on for at least 2 classes worth of time about how he “beat up his last bully and broke both of his arms, and almost went to prison, but his dad is a lawyer and bailed him out”. Dude was 16, and I don’t think he’d need to be bailed out, but okay… He was, in fact, very badass.
Those are all approximations of actual stories he told me, because my ADHD memory is shit, but you get the gist of it.
My days were filled with endless stories filled with absolute bullshit, like a Gary Stu from a dying rpg campaign. (I have a story about a DnD game he participated in, but that’s for another time!)
Roger, not content with lying to me about anecdotal facts about his past that could be true but were almost certainly mostly bullshit (if not entirely), had a tendency to just negate reality when presented with facts in certain situations.
And example of this situation is the time we were doing a group assignment and a girl at least 3 meters in front of him dropped her pencil and he just kinda threw himself on the ground, picked it up and said “Here you go, Lana!”. She said “Thanks Roger!”, barely turning around and carried on with the assignment. Roger, then, turned to me with a sleek shit feasting smirk on his face and said:
RB: “Dude, do you think she’s into me??”
I contained a ridiculing laughter just in time to realize he was dead serious.
I said “I don’t know man… Doesn’t seem like it to me, but sure I guess.”
RB then straight up asked ME to go talk to her and get HIM her number. When I asked why shouldn’t he do it, he said it was “the wingman’s job to get the number of the girl” so that he wouldn’t “look weak for asking”
I said I’d do it, cause I genuinely wanted to see if he was right about her liking him (I hadn’t really understood the dynamics of the classroom, so I actually had no idea if he was actually right, just a gut feeling that yeah, he probably wasn’t).
I went up to her and asked for her number, explaining it was Roger who was interested in her and, as I pulled out my raging 2014’s Sony XPeria, I was swiftly interrupted by her delicately saying “Sorry! I have a boyfriend.” (She said the boyfriend part out loud, and stared at Roger)
I said “Oh, ok, sorry to bother ya!” and, as I was starting to walk back, I noticed that she turned back and glared at Roger. Later that day her boyfriend texted him, telling him that “He’s got to stop asking her out, and next time, if he wants to get rejected, he should come do it himself” He called him a moron. And then they both blocked him.
Well, that was embarrassing.
Despite having been turned down (for the 6th time now, I’d come to find out), Roger still maintained that she was “totally into him”, and it wasn’t just Lana. Any time he had even the smallest interaction with any girl, he’d say that they’re “probably into him”, or that “they made out at a party, but she was drunk and probably won’t remember”, or that they “sent him nudes last year but he’s already deleted them because he’s a good person, with morals”.
This went on for a while and, after about a month, Roger begun to dial down the crazy stories about how he’s a “badass and he gets all the girls but he’s single because he’s too good for them”. Until I started seeing a girl from another church I started going to. I met Janice () at the churches youth group, and we talked the whole time afterwards about lots of stuff. This name’s given because of her insanely similar laughter and demeanor of Janice from Friends. We clicked well and I was very interested in her, but my ADHD ass forgot to get her number, and remembered it only when she had already left.
When I told Roger, he laughed and said “I had just cockblocked myself” and that I’d “probably missed my only chance of banging a girl ever”. I was bummed, but clarified I didn’t really want to have sex before marriage or at least before making an emotional connection (I had just then begun to go to church, so I didn’t really get the rules, so it was more of a personal choice I always had in mind when thinking about dating. Also I met her at church so wtf).
He said “that was dumb” and, “even though he was a virgin, he’d dance the Devil’s Tango with the first chick he had the chance to”
“What about Laura?”, I asked. His face went from a confident smirk to an almost sad expression, and he blankly replied: “She didn’t want to, but I tried anyway at times. I even got a blowie once!” I let it go because I was very tired, as Mondays are hell on earth.
A few classes later, I went up to him and reminded him of our conversation and asked:
I said “Ooookay, but what about all those girls you told me were all over you? Didn’t they want to have some bum bum times with you??”
He was taken by surprise by this, and was visibly trying so hard to think of an answer for at least 15 seconds. He mumbled “Well…”, and like just left. Like he got up in the middle of the class, and walked away. Well that was weird!
He got back and I didn’t pry, thinking he had some kind of trauma, and I tried to change the subject.
I say “tried” because instead we were suddenly interrupted by a girl asking me if I was Rick. I didn’t know her or how she had materialized beside our desks, but later I found out that that girl’s name was Mary. She had blue eyes and was smiling mischievously, and I answered “Yup, that’s me”. She then giggled and said that “Anna wanted to make out with me after class”. Me and Roger were both very much taken aback by this, and I immediately thought to myself that this could only be some type of dare or prank (which it probably was), and was about to try and respond with the first witty joke that popped up in my monkey brain when, without missing a beat, Roger said “Rick’s already seeing someone!”. Mary was visibly surprised and said “Oh, you have a girlfriend??” with a look of disbelief on her face. Ouch. I explained that I wouldn’t say I do, I just liked a girl from church and we’re going to see a movie with some friends on Saturday, and that either way it was a pass on the making out sesh! Mary said “Oh, okay!” and started to walk back to her desk. I was about to make a joke and say that Anna could probably do better than me, when Roger interjected:
RB: “I’d like a making out sesh if she’s interested!”
Mary looked back with a visible “Lol, ew no” expression and just said: “I’m sure you would, Roger!”, turned away and sat down, laughing with her friends when she got to her desk.
Roger turned to me and said:
RB: “Dude, do you think she’s into me?”
This cycle repeated once in a while, so I’m not gonna tell you all of the situations that I felt like shaking him and trying to wake him up like Woody does to Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story. Exhausting, right?
Another thing Roger tended to brag about was that he did Martial Arts. Specifically, Kung Fu (Wushu). I would come to find out that, in the year before, he made a big scene to tell everyone in class that he’d just started Kung-Fu classes and, when no-one payed attention, he started a habit of punching the wall beside his desk, audibly making “hmpft” noises. When anyone asked why, he’d say he was training, and that his Sensei (Not shifu, he actually said sensei) had asked him to do that to strengthen his fists so he could harness all the strength he had, so one day he could put a hole through a wall with his fists.
He would also punch the school’s fireproof doors because, if you didn’t know, they dent pretty easily, and he would show me and tell me to bask at his strength and ability. That until I said I’d give it a try. He told me not to, because “I wasn’t trained” and “it could really hurt my hand”. I punched the door. It made a dent.
Roger said it was beginners luck and that he’s just a good teacher. I told him I really didn’t even make an effort to pay attention, the metal was just bendy and soft. Roger never talked about it again, and started only punching walls. For that, he would feel superior because, yeah I ain’t doing that. There were consequences for his wall punching habits, but I’ll address that some other time.
The last thing I’ll say about him for now is how clueless Roger was, how much he thought of himself and how he treated everyone else like they should (and would) respecting for what he told them, and not for what he showed them.
(I plan on doing another part eventually, with the story of how his disconnection with reality, lies, schemes and generally narcissist behavior eventually exploded back into his face.)
As a last bit of exposition of our circumstances, there’s an important part of our school life that fueled Roger’s social life’s demise.
Pranking was a big part of my class’ culture. There were also some people in my classroom who were bullied. The thing is: the bullies actually made fun of literally everyone else, which made it very hard to figure out if you were considered a target or just a colleague. They’d mess with people’s stuff, tie backpacks to the windows and hide pencil cases, but they would also do it to their own group.
Essentially, the only way to differentiate those who they considered normal schoolmates from those who were bullied was the frequency of the pranks and their demeanor in general towards those people. They would apologize for the pranks, ask to make up for it, buy you lunch, make jokes, try to laugh with you. I swear some of those guys were politicians in the making. Luckily, was very good friends with one of the guys in that group, I’ll call him Turkey, who was also held back a few years before me, and he liked my sister, so I was mostly safe.
Roger, on the other hand, THOUGHT he was one of the pranksters. Every time someone pranked him or anyone else, he would laugh knowingly, like he was in on the joke the whole time, and try to make jokes, only to further humiliate himself. And they would capitalize on that as hard as they could.
You see, Roger liked to portray himself as the “Mysterious-Badass-Quiet-Protagonist-Take-No-Shit-From-Anyone-Mr.-Steal-Yo-Girl” guy. This combo of personality substitutes was the recipe for the downfall of his popularity, and the start of the longest lasting pranks I’ve ever seen in my life, which will come if yall want another post. That prank is also the reason I named him Roger Bacon.
Because he was so into Math and Science (and into himself too lol) he also always wanted to look like the smartest guy in the room. The problem is that, as our first semester went by, it became clear that he wasn’t as good as he hyped himself up to be. Shocker, right? This was proven to be true when we were doing a chemistry group test, and I was paired with him and Anna, and we needed to calculate some entropies or whatever. He made a point of telling us to do all of the “easy ones”, and he would take on the more complicated questions.
The thing is, he was trying really hard to look like a genius, to maybe impress Anna, so every time he made a calculation, he would roll his eyes up and kinda vibrate a little. I guess he wanted to look like a genius mathematics robot, but instead he looked like he was trying to imitate an autistic person having a small stroke. I didn’t mind the Good Doctor amateur impersonation, because at least it looked like he knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, it really just looked like he knew what he was doing.
Each easy question of the test was worth 1 point, and there were 4 of them, and there were 3 hard questions worth 2 points each. We got a 4/10 on that test, and lo and behold, the only questions we got right were the ones me and Anna worked on. We were a bit pissed, not gonna lie.
Until the last time we spoke, Roger still blames Anna for his complete failure at this test for, in his words, distracting him because she was obviously into him.
But that’s just Roger, I guess!
I've got A LOT of stories about Roger and other neckbeards I've encountered, and I can't wait to tell them!
Until then, thanks for reading, and have a good one yall!

I have used Reddit for a long time but never interacted with anyone or any subreddit besides reading posts and comments, but after I met this subreddit by accident and started looking at some posts, I just had to write this post
I've always been the average cis straight male my entire life, but now I'm somehow confused about myself. I've seen a lot of content talking about sexuality, but I never felt it was about me. Even right now, after I've found this subreddit, I am still unsure if this term fits me.
Not sure if this is relevant, but I am 27 years old right now, and I'm married. My wife knows about what am I going through and she has been very supportive.
As I grew up with both mom and dad being extremely religious (Christian), I never doubted my sexuality. I never had any interest in LGBT speech (I was never against it, but it always felt like it was not for me)
During my childhood and adolescence, I've always liked female characters. I always played as a female character whenever I could. I remember spending hours and hours in MMO just creating the perfect female version of me, choosing the most beautiful clothes, and the perfect pink-dyed hairstyle. I always unconsciously felt attracted to the feminine body, clothes, etc. Not exactly in a sexual way, but I kinda wished to be like the characters I was creating
I also remember the first and almost the last time I tried wearing panties. I was around 5 or 6 years old, and I was in my room which I used to share my room with my older sister and I saw my sister's drawer half-opened. As I was a very curious kid, I gave a quick look and found out it was my sister's panties drawer. I don't remember why, but I just felt the need to try them, so I instantly removed my clothes. Unfortunately, before I finished putting them on, I was caught by my mother. Don't need to say I had one of the strongest spankings I ever had. During the next 15 years, I never came close to another panty again.
I always had some panties fetish. I Always found them pretty, and until recently, I always thought It was just a fetish. I don't remember exactly when it happened but, after I got married, I started wearing them casually. My wife even bought some pairs as a birthday gift.
Not only this, but I also started making and painting my nails. last time I painted them Pink with glitter, and it felt amazing. I also love to buy clothes. My wife hates shopping for clothes, and every time she has to, I need to go with her and choose for her. Usually, she hates doing girly stuff and prefers doing "male" things. She's even responsible for doing house maintenance (she likes it, and I don't).
I'm not sure if the "femboy" term fits me. I never felt like wearing skirts, dresses, or other girly clothes, mainly because they would not look good on me at all. I'm very tall and large and I don't think I have any feminine side in my appearance. Also, even if my wife doesn't mind me wearing lingerie, painting my nails, or even how we do in bed, I know she would not like me wearing these at all.
There were many times in the last couple of years that I caught myself thinking about how many things I could do, or how many things I could wear if I were a girl, but it's not like I don't accept myself how I am.
The point is, I identify myself as a man, but not as a male (does this make sense?).
I've been trying for some time to understand who I am. I don't like a man, but I also don't feel like I should be a woman. Most of the time, I feel uncomfortable when people tag me as a man, not because I am or not a man, but because they're forcing me into a group where most of the people are totally different from me, but the problem is even I don't know if there's a group I belong to.
After finishing writing this, I feel like I'm just making a storm in a teacup. I'm not sure if I was able to communicate exactly as I wanted either. Thank you if you read this far. This was something I kept in my chest for a long time and I couldn't talk to anyone besides my wife and my therapist.

At Walmart with my grandmother, I saw a Hawaiian shirt, and I was going to say, "I want to be this type of *uncle*, the one who just wears this shirt and embarrasses my nieces and nephews." But I stopped myself and said, "aunt".
I'm in the book section looking for Loveless by Alice Oseman. They have heartstoppers. But I can't find Loveless.
I had the whole scenario played out in my head: I ask Grandma to buy it for me, and she asked me what it was about. I would then say an aroace person, and she would ask what aroace means, and I would tell her then close off with saying, "Just like me.".
She agreed to take me to Barnes & Noble!
We were in the car to Hobby Lobby, and my lip started bleeding. Grandma said she doesn't have periods anymore, so the only way she bleeds is if she cuts herself and gets her blood drawn. And I said she was lucky because I don't want periods. I don't need them because I don't want kids. I told her I was done raising kids for a lifetime (I've raised my siblings). And she kept saying I needed to get away from my mother, live my own life, and then maybe I'd change my mind.
She kept trying to convince me to have children one day.
We went to eat and then drove to Barnes & Noble. We couldn’t find it so we asked a lady and she gave it to us.
She asked me what the book was about, and I stuttered and told her, but I didn’t use the word “aroace”.
Grandma read the book summary, and it said it was LGBTQIA+.
She said, “L…G…B…T……Q…I…A+, whatever that means.” then laughed in my face.
She then said, "Skip the chapters that will make you gay.". She then said something then said, "That would piss me off," referencing me being queer.
I'm so scared now. I'm shaking. It instantly made me think I wasn't queer.
To roughly sum it up, I told her that aroace is queer because it's not a 'normal' heterosexual attraction, and she said that doesn't make someone 'this', pointing to the word LGBTQIA+.
I told her what aroace meant, and she went, "You're not that, right?" and I just sheepishly said, "No," all quiet, fearing for my life.
I don't even want the book now. I kept saying we don't have to get it if she doesn't want to buy it, but she just kept saying, "It’s fine. I’ll buy it, just skip the chapter that will make you gay."
What if Mom finds the book?
I'm, like, actually scared now.
When I get home, I'm hiding the book on my desk and praying to God that Grandma doesn't tell anyone I own this.
Mom can't kick me out; it's Grandpa and Grandma's house.
I'm having anxiety now, and my right hand feels tingly like it's going numb.
I can't stop thinking about it.
Grandma asked if I was moving out now since my aunt, uncle, and cousin, are coming home today from their vacation, and since Grandma and Grandpa are here, they could help me move out.
She said my aunt and uncle would love to house me because they love me unconditionally. But if they loved me unconditionally, they would love me for being queer, not make me fear for my life and hide a big part of myself.
But like, am I actually queer, or am I just hopping on some 'trend' (for lack of a better word. I’m not in a good mental space right now, just hang in there okay)? Maybe I'm just a masculine girl (tomboy) and support my fellow sisters for being pretty.
I feel sick.
I don't feel like a man or a woman. I'm just me, ya know? And I want to hug, and kiss, and touch, and cuddle, and have sex with both men and women. Does that say cishet to you? Maybe I've just brainwashed myself into thinking I want this.
I want to throw up now.
I really do believe that God put me in the wrong body. I feel so disconnected from my female body so much.

At Walmart with my grandmother, I saw a Hawaiian shirt, and I was going to say, "I want to be this type of *uncle*, the one who just wears this shirt and embarrasses my nieces and nephews." But I stopped myself and said, "aunt".
I'm in the book section looking for Loveless by Alice Oseman. They have heartstoppers. But I can't find Loveless.
I had the whole scenario played out in my head: I ask Grandma to buy it for me, and she asked me what it was about. I would then say an aroace person, and she would ask what aroace means, and I would tell her then close off with saying, "Just like me.".
She agreed to take me to Barnes & Noble!
We were in the car to Hobby Lobby, and my lip started bleeding. Grandma said she doesn't have periods anymore, so the only way she bleeds is if she cuts herself and gets her blood drawn. And I said she was lucky because I don't want periods. I don't need them because I don't want kids. I told her I was done raising kids for a lifetime (I've raised my siblings). And she kept saying I needed to get away from my mother, live my own life, and then maybe I'd change my mind.
She kept trying to convince me to have children one day.
We went to eat and then drove to Barnes & Noble. We couldn’t find it so we asked a lady and she gave it to us.
She asked me what the book was about, and I stuttered and told her, but I didn’t use the word “aroace”.
Grandma read the book summary, and it said it was LGBTQIA+.
She said, “L…G…B…T……Q…I…A+, whatever that means.” then laughed in my face.
She then said, "Skip the chapters that will make you gay.". She then said something then said, "That would piss me off," referencing me being queer.
I'm so scared now. I'm shaking. It instantly made me think I wasn't queer.
To roughly sum it up, I told her that aroace is queer because it's not a 'normal' heterosexual attraction, and she said that doesn't make someone 'this', pointing to the word LGBTQIA+.
I told her what aroace meant, and she went, "You're not that, right?" and I just sheepishly said, "No," all quiet, fearing for my life.
I don't even want the book now. I kept saying we don't have to get it if she doesn't want to buy it, but she just kept saying, "It’s fine. I’ll buy it, just skip the chapter that will make you gay."
What if Mom finds the book?
I'm, like, actually scared now.
When I get home, I'm hiding the book on my desk and praying to God that Grandma doesn't tell anyone I own this.
Mom can't kick me out; it's Grandpa and Grandma's house.
I'm having anxiety now, and my right hand feels tingly like it's going numb.
I can't stop thinking about it.
Grandma asked if I was moving out now since my aunt, uncle, and cousin, are coming home today from their vacation, and since Grandma and Grandpa are here, they could help me move out.
She said my aunt and uncle would love to house me because they love me unconditionally. But if they loved me unconditionally, they would love me for being queer, not make me fear for my life and hide a big part of myself.
But like, am I actually queer, or am I just hopping on some 'trend' (for lack of a better word. I’m not in a good mental space right now, just hang in there okay)? Maybe I'm just a masculine girl (tomboy) and support my fellow sisters for being pretty.
I feel sick.
I don't feel like a man or a woman. I'm just me, ya know? And I want to hug, and kiss, and touch, and cuddle, and have sex with both men and women. Does that say cishet to you? Maybe I've just brainwashed myself into thinking I want this.
I want to throw up now.
I really do believe that God put me in the wrong body. I feel so disconnected from my female body so much.

Tom took another look at the dwindling encampment as his dismay began to fade away. "Whoever's left to hang out with are the most committed to the cause" he thought to himself. "If anything, I'll have more fun than I did before." And after all, they had a good lineup of activists scheduled to visit in the next few days, and an anarchist band had even agreed to play this afternoon. He had definitely noticed a rapid drop in the number of campers since the end of the semester, and had even begun to doubt that they would be able to get any sort of concessions out of the university. But his thinking had changed after hearing the speeches that morning.
First to speak was Tom's friend and comrade, Eric. His impassioned indictment of the Israeli government reminded Tom of the importance of their activism. Then came the married grad students, the Trotskyist Abdou and the pan-Arabist Farida. They were international students studying English and anthropology, respectively. Or was it anthropology and sociology? Abdou lectured on the university's connection to the military-industrial complex. His speech was filled with threats to the administration that Tom was sure the limp-dicked Trot had no means of fulfilling. Even so, he had to admit that despite all his other inadequacies, Abdou was a powerful speaker. Finally came Farida. Tom had always considered her the best speaker of them all, but frankly he had a hard time taking his eyes off her whether she was speaking or not. He had tried flirting with her before, and he got the feeling that Abdou was even more into it than she was. Thinking about it now, he couldn't quite remember what her speech had been about, but it had certainly improved his spirits.
As the "Bacon Brigade" began setting up their instruments, Tom decided to make a point of dancing with Farida that afternoon. As the average tent now held two campers rather than five, he even thought he might get a chance to enjoy some of the newfound privacy.
...
When there was a break in the music, Tom sauntered over to the table where Abdou was sitting. As an ML, Tom could hardly stand Trotskyists, but he put on a smile for the sake of "left unity."
"She's a good dancer isn't she?" said Abdou.
"Oh yes, the best," agreed Tom. He was trying to think of a way of progressing his slow seduction of this Muslim woman and decided to be bold. "Look Abdou, the band will be winding down soon, why don't you both come back to my tent and I'll show you some comradely hospitality. I also have some suggestions that I know you'll love."
Abdou's mind was racing with the possibilities of the situation. Would this be the chance to see his wife seduced and taken by this big stud? Supposing Farida won't agree? Before he could engage his brain Abdou found himself agreeing to Tom's offer. "Wonderful, wonderful," beamed Tom and he could feel his big cock twitch at the thought of bedding Abdou's beautiful wife.
Just then Farida reappeared. "What are you two talking about?" she said.
Before Abdou could say a word, Tom said "Well my dear, your husband has kindly accepted my invitation of hospitality at my tent."
Farida didn't know what to say. She had thought Abdou would whisk her off back to the hotel and give her the fucking she desperately needed. Rubbing up against Tom's manhood had taken its toll. "Well I suppose we could come and see where you camp," she said, "but we mustn't stay too late must we Abdou?"
"What? I err no, I suppose not," stammered Abdou as Tom rose and offered Farida his arm.
And the three of them found themselves heading off to tent where the lives of Abdou and Farida would be changed forever. As they walked along Abdou held one of Farida's arms and Tom the other. However, after a while Abdou consciously let go of his wife's arm and stepped behind Tom.
This was not lost on the big white and he put his big protective arm around Abdou's wife as if to say to everyone "she's mine." If Farida hadn't been so dazed by the afternoon's events, she might have noticed various other white students smiling at Tom with knowing grins. They had recognized the situation immediately; a Muslim couple with cuckold husband following on as a big powerful white man led the wife to his cot.
Soon they reached Tom's tent and both Abdou and Farida were pleasantly surprised at how spacious it was. "Let me get you some coffee," said Tom as both Abdou and Farida collapsed onto a big sleeping bag.
Having sorted the drinks, Tom put some music on, and crawling over to Farida he said, "Can we have another dance Farida, you're such a good dancer?"
Before Farida could answer she felt her husband pushing her up. "Go on Farida, you know how much you enjoy it."
Abdou secretly wanted to see his wife in the arms of this Adonis again and who knows maybe more. Having no real reason to object, Farida agreed and as she accepted Toms hand she couldn't help but feel a shiver at the thought of being reacquainted with his penis, albeit covered by his trousers. However, as they left the tent she had a suspicion that he wasn't wearing any under garments since his penis had seemed so clearly outlined earlier.
As he clasped her to himself Tom could feel his big cock twitch once again. He moved one hand down to the small of her back, just to test the waters and meeting no resistance after another minute or so he moved his hand onto her sexy bottom. He could feel through the thin dress that Farida wasn't wearing thick pants, or perhaps only very skimpy ones and he couldn't wait to see her naked.
Farida felt lost in a different world as she circled round with this big man. Not only could she feel his penis growing hard against her once more, but she felt his big hand on her bottom pulling her onto his hardness. When she looked at her husband (still sitting in the tent), she noticed that he was just rubbing his own penis through his trousers. "My goodness," she thought, "he's getting turned on watching us. Supposing I flirt a bit more and show him what he's missing?"
With that Farida deliberately started to open her legs and let Tom's muscular leg rub against her inflamed sex.
This change in Farida's demeanor was not lost on Tom. As he led her back to the tent, he let his hands roam all over the back of this sexy hijabi Muslim wife and he leaned down to kiss and nibble her neck and ears. He heard Farida sigh and knew that he was close to capturing this sexy wife. "Fatima, let's give Abdou a show to remember shall we?"
Farida was brought back from her dreamlike state by Tom's question. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Almost in a whisper Tom said, "You know, a bit of thesis-antithesis-synthesis."
He had already found the zipper that ran down the back of Farida's dress and he had it in his hands as he spoke to her. He slowly started to pull the zipper down and it was half way down her back before Farida realised what was happening. "Wait Tom, we can't do this, I'm married."
"So what of it, Abdou wants me to undress you, don't you Abdou?"
Abdou had no hesitation in replying in the affirmative. This is what he had wanted for so long.
Caught in the confusion and surprise of hearing her husband say that he wanted to see another man, undress her, Farida just lay there while Tom pulled the zipper right down and then eased the dress off her shoulders. Suddenly she realised that she was lying in only her stockings, garter belt, and thong panties.
As she looked up at Tom she saw something that she hadn't seen in a man for years and that was undisguised lust. This man was lusting after her, this married women! She should have felt ashamed at her feelings but she didn't. Having got half-naked, she realised that she was enjoying the attention of this muscular white man. In fact she decided to crawl around in front of him as if to say 'look at what my husband has and you haven't'.
This might have been a foolish act, but it merely served to confirm what both men knew. For Tom it confirmed that Farida was absolutely gorgeous, the sexiest Muslim woman he had ever seen and that she needed to be loved sexually. For Abdou as he fingered his painfully erect cock, he knew that he was just a few steps away from pushing his wife into a sleeping bag with another man. He was close to realizing his fantasy.
Tom pulled Farida to him, lifted her face to his and he kissed her. Farida would always remember that first kiss since it was both passionate but more significantly the precursor to her crossing a line that could not be re- crossed, and to setting in motion events that would last her and her husband a lifetime. She accepted his big tongue into her mouth and her tongue fenced with his. She could feel his big hands roaming all over body now.
In her trance-like state it seemed quite natural that Tom should start to remove his clothing. Both Farida and Abdou watched as the big man removed his shirt to reveal a hugely-muscled chest and then he dropped his trousers and just as Farida had suspected he wore no underwear. His big cock reared up in all is magnificence and Tom was gratified to hear both husband and wife express surprise at his size.
Tom crawled over to the sleeping bag where Farida was sitting and crouched in front of her, his big cock semi erect. He remembered that Eric had told him that the cops were closing in, and he knew he would have to move quickly if he wanted to finish before they cleared the encampment. Farida's head was at the same level as the big man's groin and she was amazed at the whole size and muscularity of this man. Her trance-like state was broken by Tom who said softly "Take my cock into your mouth."
Farida was aghast, "I can't! It's dirty and I've never done that before."
Tom laughed to himself. This wife was indeed naive and yet he was gratified that he would be the first man to have his cock sucked by her. Lifting her face so that she could look into his eyes, Tom said, "As we hear from German ideologists, Germany has in the last few years gone through an unparalleled revolution. The decomposition of the Hegelian philosophy, which began with Strauss, has developed into a universal ferment into which all the “powers of the past” are swept. In the general chaos mighty empires have arisen only to meet with immediate doom, heroes have emerged momentarily only to be hurled back into obscurity by bolder and stronger rivals. It was a revolution beside which the French Revolution was child’s play, a world struggle beside which the struggles of the Diadochi [successors of Alexander the Great] appear insignificant. Principles ousted one another, heroes of the mind overthrew each other with unheard-of rapidity, and in the three years 1842-45 more of the past was swept away in Germany than at other times in three centuries.
"All this is supposed to have taken place in the realm of pure thought.
"Certainly it is an interesting event we are dealing with: the putrescence of the absolute spirit. When the last spark of its life had failed, the various components of this caput mortuum began to decompose, entered into new combinations and formed new substances. The industrialists of philosophy, who till then had lived on the exploitation of the absolute spirit, now seized upon the new combinations. Each with all possible zeal set about retailing his apportioned share. This naturally gave rise to competition, which, to start with, was carried on in moderately staid bourgeois fashion. Later when the German market was glutted, and the commodity in spite of all efforts found no response in the world market, the business was spoiled in the usual German manner by fabricated and fictitious production, deterioration in quality, adulteration of the raw materials, falsification of labels, fictitious purchases, bill-jobbing and a credit system devoid of any real basis. The competition turned into a bitter struggle, which is now being extolled and interpreted to us as a revolution of world significance, the begetter of the most prodigious results and achievements.
"If we wish to rate at its true value this philosophic charlatanry, which awakens even in the breast of the honest German citizen a glow of national pride, if we wish to bring out clearly the pettiness, the parochial narrowness of this whole Young-Hegelian movement and in particular the tragicomic contrast between the illusions of these heroes about their achievements and the actual achievements themselves, we must look at the whole spectacle from a standpoint beyond the frontiers of Germany.
"Ideology in General, German Ideology in Particular: German criticism has, right up to its latest efforts, never quitted the realm of philosophy. Far from examining its general philosophic premises, the whole body of its inquiries has actually sprung from the soil of a definite philosophical system, that of Hegel. Not only in their answers but in their very questions there was a mystification. This dependence on Hegel is the reason why not one of these modern critics has even attempted a comprehensive criticism of the Hegelian system, however much each professes to have advanced beyond Hegel. Their polemics against Hegel and against one another are confined to this – each extracts one side of the Hegelian system and turns this against the whole system as well as against the sides extracted by the others. To begin with they extracted pure unfalsified Hegelian categories such as “substance” and “self-consciousness,” later they desecrated these categories with more secular names such as species “the Unique,” “Man,” etc.
"The entire body of German philosophical criticism from Strauss to Stirner is confined to criticism of religious conceptions. [The following passage is crossed out in the manuscript:] claiming to be the absolute redeemer of the world from all evil. Religion was continually regarded and treated as the arch-enemy, as the ultimate cause of all relations repugnant to these philosophers. The critics started from real religion and actual theology. What religious consciousness and a religious conception really meant was determined variously as they went along. Their advance consisted in subsuming the allegedly dominant metaphysical, political, juridical, moral and other conceptions under the class of religious or theological conceptions; and similarly in pronouncing political, juridical, moral consciousness as religious or theological, and the political, juridical, moral man – “man” in the last resort – as religious. The dominance of religion was taken for granted. Gradually every dominant relationship was pronounced a religious relationship and transformed into a cult, a cult of law, a cult of the State, etc. On all sides it was only a question of dogmas and belief in dogmas. The world was sanctified to an ever-increasing extent till at last our venerable Saint Max was able to canonise it en bloc and thus dispose of it once for all.
"The Old Hegelians had comprehended everything as soon as it was reduced to an Hegelian logical category. The Young Hegelians criticised everything by attributing to it religious conceptions or by pronouncing it a theological matter. The Young Hegelians are in agreement with the Old Hegelians in their belief in the rule of religion, of concepts, of a universal principle in the existing world. Only, the one party attacks this dominion as usurpation, while the other extols it as legitimate.
"Since the Young Hegelians consider conceptions, thoughts, ideas, in fact all the products of consciousness, to which they attribute an independent existence, as the real chains of men (just as the Old Hegelians declared them the true bonds of human society) it is evident that the Young Hegelians have to fight only against these illusions of consciousness. Since, according to their fantasy, the relationships of men, all their doings, their chains and their limitations are products of their consciousness, the Young Hegelians logically put to men the moral postulate of exchanging their present consciousness for human, critical or egoistic consciousness, and thus of removing their limitations. This demand to change consciousness amounts to a demand to interpret reality in another way, i.e. to recognise it by means of another interpretation. The Young-Hegelian ideologists, in spite of their allegedly “world-shattering" statements, are the staunchest conservatives. The most recent of them have found the correct expression for their activity when they declare they are only fighting against “phrases.” They forget, however, that to these phrases they themselves are only opposing other phrases, and that they are in no way combating the real existing world when they are merely combating the phrases of this world. The only results which this philosophic criticism could achieve were a few (and at that thoroughly one-sided) elucidations of Christianity from the point of view of religious history; all the rest of their assertions are only further embellishments of their claim to have furnished, in these unimportant elucidations, discoveries of universal importance.
"It has not occurred to any one of these philosophers to inquire into the connection of German philosophy with German reality, the relation of their criticism to their own material surroundings.
"First Premises of Materialist Method: The premises from which we begin are not arbitrary ones, not dogmas, but real premises from which abstraction can only be made in the imagination. They are the real individuals, their activity and the material conditions under which they live, both those which they find already existing and those produced by their activity. These premises can thus be verified in a purely empirical way.
"The first premise of all human history is, of course, the existence of living human individuals. Thus the first fact to be established is the physical organisation of these individuals and their consequent relation to the rest of nature. Of course, we cannot here go either into the actual physical nature of man, or into the natural conditions in which man finds himself – geological, hydrographical, climatic and so on. The writing of history must always set out from these natural bases and their modification in the course of history through the action of men.
"Men can be distinguished from animals by consciousness, by religion or anything else you like. They themselves begin to distinguish themselves from animals as soon as they begin to produce their means of subsistence, a step which is conditioned by their physical organisation. By producing their means of subsistence men are indirectly producing their actual material life.
"The way in which men produce their means of subsistence depends first of all on the nature of the actual means of subsistence they find in existence and have to reproduce. This mode of production must not be considered simply as being the production of the physical existence of the individuals. Rather it is a definite form of activity of these individuals, a definite form of expressing their life, a definite mode of life on their part. As individuals express their life, so they are. What they are, therefore, coincides with their production, both with what they produce and with how they produce. The nature of individuals thus depends on the material conditions determining their production.
"This production only makes its appearance with the increase of population. In its turn this presupposes the intercourse [Verkehr] of individuals with one another. The form of this intercourse is again determined by production.
[continues in comment]

There is this strange phenomenon that people here in Texas have I’m sure it’s in other places but I can only speak for Texas. Where if you like western style / fashion you think that makes you country…. And then they cling to that identity for dear life
Now I’m not country or a cowboy so I’m not “gate keeping” people can dress however they want and I’ll even go as far to say I understand the appeal I find western wear very fashionable.
Im just saying wearing a “🤠” hat, boots, and jeans doesn’t make you some sort of “good ole boy” from way out in the country or some kind of a ranch hand…
Girls especially have a difficult time understanding that they aren’t actually chasing country boys / ranch hands they are talking to city guys who enjoy western fashion.
Edit 1:
Tom Segura actually had a HILARIOUS stand up clip on this exact topic.
right here

Hopefully this isn’t downvoted instantly, because I know people seem to get strangely very defensive about Beast’s characterization in this run. I think there is a lot of miscommunication whenever a Beast fan complains about how he was depicted here. Often times people will discount those complaints because they think Beast fans just don’t want him to go bad, when that doesn’t really seem to be the whole truth from what I’ve seen. Ultimately, the complaints I raise and I have seen others raise are more about thinking the writing of his spiral in X-Force 2019 was not done well rather than that said spiral shouldn’t have happened at all. With the Krakoa era coming to an end, and “From the Ashes” having the now-rebooted Beast who is pulled all the way from his time on The Defenders, I don’t see any of the flaws here being addressed beyond characters casually referring to how bad he became. So I wanted to take this time in the in-between, where our new Beast is apparently just chilling on Wonder Man’s couch while the rest of the X-Men fight against Orchis and Nimrod, to once and for all lay out the flaws of Beast’s villainous era, and establish not that it shouldn’t have happened, but that it could have been way better.
Problem 1: A Lack of Pathos:
Most X-Men fans who have been reading for awhile will agree that it’s honestly surprising more mutants haven’t gone down a dark path. Their history is one of striving for acceptance, putting their lives on the line for people who would rather see them dead, and being rewarded with not one but multiple genocides on their population. Some of the most interesting stories can actually come from a formally “upstanding” mutant finally deciding enough is enough. When Cyclops went down his “villainous” path, it made a lot of sense. We’d seen him becoming more disenfranchised with the dream for years. We’d seen his trust in Xavier erode time and time again, and so when he decided to stop asking for acceptance and start demanding it, it was hard to blame him. Even as we saw most of his friends turn against him, that didn’t stop people from declaring “Cyclops Was Right,” because his perspective could easily be understood, and he did achieve results. More recently in X-Men ‘97, we saw Rogue go down a dark path in the wake of Genosha being wiped out, including Magneto and Gambit. Again, this was understood, and it was an interesting direction for her character.
This sort of turn would also make a ton of sense for Hank McCoy. Did you know that back towards the start of the original Uncanny X-Men run, Hank was actually the first X-Men we ever saw to leave the team and say that Magneto was right, after he and Bobby were attacked by an angry mob because Hank used his powers to save a young child? Over the years, one of Hank’s most recurring struggles and arcs is self-loathing and eventual acceptance of his condition. Hank has always been at his darkest when he’s trapped in his spiral of self-loathing, but when he comes out the other side, he tends to be one of the most optimistic mutants when it comes to coexistence with humans. He was out making connections and fighting alongside non-mutants before anyone else. Joining the Avengers and Defenders, speaking on behalf of mutant rights before congress, dating human women who were able to accept his appearance, blue fur and all. Until they weren’t… looking at you, Trish Tilby.
So with all of this in mind, it would honestly be an extremely interesting arc to see Hank, this optimistic mutant who has spent his life building bridges and making connections with humanity, to be slowly beaten down and start to believe peace is not an option. As one of the original X-Men, he has been there through every tragedy that struck the mutant population. And as one of the smartest X-Men, he has usually been at the center of these crises. He has seen advancements in science meant to eradicate the mutants. He has fought against viruses that threaten to drive them extinct. He was there in the wreckage of Genosha. He has seen countless friends killed again and again. He has suffered his own mutation evolving and making him less and less human-looking. He saw the development of a mutant “cure” and was tempted to take it. He has seen it all.
And so that brings us to Krakoa. This is the moment where the mutants as a whole decided enough was enough. If they could not be accepted by humanity, they would pack up and form their own nation, and they would force humanity to accept that they exist by developing life-saving drugs that other nations would have to rely on. And what is one of the first things that happens after the establishment of Krakoa? Hank witnesses assassins infiltrate the island and assassinate Charles Xavier. This right here is honestly the perfect setup for Hank to go darker than he has before. Even after literally segregating the mutant population from humanity, like humanity seemed to want, they still decided to come and kill the man at the forefront of the movement. And Hank, recently placed in charge of mutant black-ops, would likely see that all options are on the table.
Unfortunately, Hank’s actual pathos surrounding the decisions he would go on to make is not explored by the book itself. The book has no interest in detailing Hank’s fall from grace as we saw with Cyclops before him. The book just wants us to accept that Hank has already fallen. And in fact, according to the writing, maybe he never had anywhere to fall from. Any time a character in X-Force tries to ask important questions to understand Hank’s thought process, they are cut off. Usually by Wolverine saying “He’s always been like this.” And then on one occasion, when Wolverine asked Hank why he was doing all this dark shit, Hank said, “Didn’t you read the script? I’ve always been like this.” There is no attempt to examine Hank as a character. We don’t need to know why Hank makes the decisions he does, because this book wants Hank to be a black and white villain and so that’s what he will be. Why? Because he’s always been like this.
Problem 2: Rapid Escalation:
One of the major defenses people have when it comes to Krakoan Hank is that he has apparently been on the road to his villainous self for over a decade. The X-Force run itself loved to have characters spout a list of Hank’s previous “crimes” without any context involved, as justification for why he was acting the way he did in the current run. The problem is, that context is very important. Because it shows the disparity in the Hank of previous stories who made mistakes with good intentions vs the Hank of X-Force who did heinous shit because he wanted to. This was less a plane making a slow descent and more a plane that was slowly descending, but then its engines shut off and it plummeted into a fiery explosion.
To make this case, we need to briefly analyze the previous perceived transgressions of Hank McCoy to show what they actually meant for his character and how they differ from the Bond villain X-Force would present us with. Let’s start with Threnody. Somehow, Threnody became a bit of a buzzword for the beginning of the end for Hank. When people talk about the history of Hank and Threnody, they will usually present it as one of Hank’s worst sins, saying something like “Hank callously handed Threnody over to Mr. Sinister so he could experiment on and abuse her!!!” It kind of makes for some whiplash when you actually read the Threnody story people are talking about. Here is a brief rundown of what actually happens:
Threnody is a young woman who cannot control her powers. It causes her no end of grief, and when we are introduced to her, she is homeless and constantly in danger of hurting herself or others. Beast, Rogue, and Iceman come across Threnody who has been found first by Mr. Sinister. Sinister actually has a vested interest in curing the Legacy Virus, and believes he can help Threnody master her powers, at which point she will prove vital in his efforts to study said Virus. Notably, Threnody wants to go with Sinister here. While Rogue disapproves, Hank does believe that Sinister is actually Threnody’s best option, openly stating Sinister can actually help her gain control and the X-Men cannot, because, as Hank directly says, Sinister is willing to damn parts of his soul in pursuit of scientific enlightenment, and the X-Men are not. A few issues later, when breaking into Sinister’s base, Hank encounters Threnody again. She’s happy. Sinister did indeed help her control her powers, and she has been able to use her abilities to help mutants the world over, while also undermining Sinister’s more evil operations from the inside. Hank expresses relief, saying he was kept up at night by his decision to let her go with Sinister, but Threnody actually thanks him for letting her. And that’s it. That’s Hank’s big “crime” here.
Hank’s other “sins” are also of varying levels of severity. There’s the time “Hank worked with his evil self to cure the Legacy Virus!” when the actual story in question is Hank asserting that he won’t stoop to the levels of Dark Beast and compromise his values in the name of science. There’s the time “Hank sided with the Inhumans against the X-Men!” when the actual story is Storm sending Hank to Attilan to find a way to end the conflict between mutants and inhumans before war broke out. Hank runs out of time to find a cure for the terrigen mist cloud, suggests mutants get off-world in the meantime rather than go to war with the inhumans, is thrown into a cell by the other X-Men for his “betrayal”, and then freed at the conclusion of the war by a repentant Storm when it comes to light that the whole conflict was manipulated by Emma Frost. There’s the time “Hank risked the timestream by bringing the original X-Men to the present day!” A decision that was made on his perceived deathbed with the hopes of bringing his old friend Cyclops back to his side. Hank wants to take the young mutants back right away, but they refuse. And instead of others enforcing that they need to return, we actually see Kitty Pride decide to lead them in the present in memory of Charles Xavier. Notably, Kitty would be one of the many mutants in future issues who would yell at Hank about this.
The point of this post isn’t to absolve Hank of all fault. He has made countless mistakes and bad decisions. Regardless of the culpability of others, the pulling of the O5 to the present was his decision. During Secret Empire, Hank would turn a blind eye to Hydra’s activity simply to keep the mutants under his care safe. During all of this, however, Hank’s character was not compromised. He expressed despair and regret over his worse choices, and struggled with thinking he was a good person any longer. Again, going back to his recurring struggle with self-loathing. He had pathos behind his decisions and how they affected him, and would often reunite with Wonder Man as an opportunity to recenter and declare he would “be better tomorrow than he was yesterday.”
You would think, if the aim of X-Force was to turn Hank into a full-on villain, it would take advantage of the long-form storytelling of comics to chronicle that escalation. Like I said, the assassination of Charles Xavier is a great starting point for Hank to start going darker than he ever has before. The problem is, we don’t get an escalation. Hank starts the run by doing some of the most heinous shit imaginable. Regardless of your thoughts on the severity of Hank’s previous mistakes, none of them compare to his opening volley in this run. Hank uses telefloronics to override and genocide an entire country, leaving various people either completely dead or braindead. We later find out that during this time he also established a space station where he ran unethical experiments on prisoners like Krakoa’s very own Dr. Mengele. He then accuses his old ally Colossus of conspiring with Russia against Krakoa, and calls forth the mutant population to witness as he parades a shamed Colossus through its streets. Then he kills Wolverine and resurrects him as a mindless animal who he uses as an attack dog against his perceived enemies. This isn’t an escalation, this is a different character. And the aforementioned lack of pathos means that we don’t get to see him struggle with these choices. We don’t see his thought process as he becomes darker and darker. Why would we? “He’s always been like this.”
Problem 3: No Personality:
One of the most fun aspects of turning a protagonist into an antagonist is seeing how their personality works with a more villainous mindset. When Cyclops became an “antagonist” to the X-Men, he was still Cyclops. He stuck to his convictions, he was a great leader and tactician, and he was able to turn many mutants to his side because of this. We’ve seen an evil Beast before. The creatively-named Dark Beast is from an alternate future where Beast went down a dark path lacking ethics. The fun of this character, besides comparing his ideologies with our Hank McCoy, is seeing how Hank’s penchant for jokes or quotes now become far more sinister and cutting.
There’s a strange narrative that the jokey Hank is reserved for the Avengers while the Hank with the X-Men is all business and science. This isn’t entirely true. Early on when he was a member of the Defenders, Hank talks about this sort of thing. He essentially says that he wears different hats. While working with the X-Men, he used big words essentially to gain respect from both his teammates and humanity. But with other teams, and in his then-new furry form, he dropped all of that. His speech became more naturalistic and he was much more of a goofball. The thing is, it’s the speech patterns that truly change depending on who Hank is hanging with, not his personality. Hank with the X-Men and Hank with the Avengers are both jovial characters who like to tell jokes and quote philosophy. You can see Hank being a bit of a clown among the X-Men in various runs. So it’s not like it’s a given that Hank is some entirely different dry doctor devoid of any sense of humor when among the X-Men.
But this is how Hank is portrayed in X-Force. Part of why this version of Hank is so hard to reconcile with the rest of his history for fans of the character is that he just doesn’t act like himself, even when he isn’t actively committing war crimes. In one early issue of the run, we get a glimpse at Beast’s journal where he accounts a meeting he had with Forge. Now, Beast has been known to be a very physical character. He is often known to sweep others into a hug, or even plant a big kiss on their face in the case of characters like Wonder Man or Iceman. Meanwhile this one page where we read his thoughts on Forge is clearly pretending this is not the case:

I paid Forge a visit in the Armory – and I must say that he can be, like Logan, rather impossible. There is a certain locker room bravado about him I find perplexing, like a language I only half understand. For instance, he refused to shake my hand but instead dragged me into what he called a “bro hug.” Then he challenged me to a “feat of strength,” asking if I would test out this sappy “muck bomb” he had developed that – or so I gather – glues one in place. He wondered if a “big boy” like me might be able to thrash free of the binding. I refused him and said I very much would prefer to get down to business. He then referred to me as a “bookish peckerwood @#$%” but did so with a friendly laugh and clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to make me stagger. I’m not sure how to process this, honestly. Is he being friendly or cruel? Is it possible to be both?

Needless to say, this doesn’t read like Beast. It reads like an android that has never before felt human emotion. I remember before reading this I was theorizing that Hank had been switched with Dark Beast once more to explain his sudden escalation, but after this I realized that couldn’t be the case. Because this sounds like neither Beast nor Dark Beast. Dark Beast understood how to properly write Hank as a villain. He doesn’t suddenly become your typical made scientist devoid of emotion, humor, or basic human understanding. He still makes jokes that are now cruel. He still quotes literature in a way that paints him as a god among men. Hank going bad can be a fun read, but this run was not.
Problem 4: No One Cares:
Another important angle to consider when writing a story of a good person breaking bad is how it affects those around them. Those who are close friends to the person and find themselves disturbed by their current actions. Again, I return to Cyclops. Regardless of where you stand on if he was right or not, he was very much positioned as an antagonist to the mutants at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. Yet we see various friends of Cyclops still caring for him and wanting to pull him back from what they perceive as the dark side. Like I previously said, Beast’s whole reason for messing with the timeline was because he felt he was going to die and wanted to try to appeal to his old friend and bring him back around before he passed on. When someone good goes bad, part of the emotional core is seeing former friends try to appeal to their better nature, and even eventually deciding they’ve gone too far to turn back.
Not so with Hank in X-Force. Like I said, this run posits that this is not any kind of heel turn for Hank. This is how he’s always been. “Hank this isn’t you!” “No, he’s always been like this.” “Hank, turn back before it’s too late!” “Turn back where? He’s always been like this.” None of Hank’s friends give a shit. Hank’s best friend amongst the X-Men is Bobby Drake, Iceman, and we never once see any kind of confrontation there. Cyclops and Angel similarly doesn’t care. Now you could argue this is because X-Force is a secretive organization. Bobby and Scott don’t even know what Hank is doing. There are two issues with this. First, things reach a point where they would know. Hank’s actions become public knowledge, and Wolverine goes off to hunt him down while the rest of the X-Men just kinda look the other way. And second, there is someone with a lot of history with Hank that was a part of X-Force and did see everything that was going on. Jean Grey.
But we never get to see Jean wonder what’s happened to her close friend. Jean who was always incredibly close to Hank. Jean who, it was confirmed during the All-New X-Men era, had mutual feelings for Hank and might have started dating him had things been different. But no, Jean, like every character in this run, accepts that Hank has always been like this. That’s the answer to everything. So instead of some kind of emotional confrontation where she tries to appeal to his better nature, we instead have Jean yell at Hank, use her powers to throw him against a wall, and quit X-Force. And then most recently, we see her tell Firestar without hesitation to throw Hank under the bus for any heat that comes her way from her undercover mission. Because everyone will believe Hank is responsible for all the bad shit. Who the hell cares about Hank? According to this run, no one.
Conclusion:
I hope you can see the larger issue here. When Beast fans complain about his Krakoan era, people assume they just don’t want to see their favorite do bad things. But it’s practically accepted at this point in comics that most heroes will have a villain arc. Hell, Iceman is the only one of the original five X-Men who hasn’t gone down a dark path at this point. The problem is that everything about the writing of Hank during this time was just not done well. There is no exploration of Hank’s descent into villainy, and any questioning down that line is immediately shut down by the assertion that this is just who he’s always been. There isn’t any slow escalation because his first move is genocide. Hank is not even written as himself during this era, but rather as a generic bond villain. And none of Hank’s former close friends even show any emotion about his turn to villainy. An evil Hank story could easily work. We saw it with Dark Beast. A story where the former optimistic member of the X-Men has been beaten down so many times that he takes on a “whatever it takes” mentality could be interesting and emotionally resonant as we both understand what drove him here yet hate the man he’s become. But that isn’t what we got. We got a run that wrote him as a complete stranger and then had all the characters tell the reader that they were wrong for ever thinking he was anyone else.

so this was a book i read when i was around 15, and i first came across this book in my recommendations in kindle after reading hush hush by becca fitzpatrick, and i recently thought about this book and i want to read it again but i can't seem to find it nor do i remember its name.
but basically it is a series book and it has supernatural elements to it, the fmc moves to this small town and her neighbours are suspicious, and one of the neighbours are the mmc, he wears leather jacket, hes the typical bad boy and he has an eyebrow piercing (which is the only remarkable trait i remember about him), the mmc and the fmc i believe are in high school. then we find out in the book that the mmc and his family are supernatural? i think theyre demons? hellhounds? i dont remember what they are specifically but they are supernatural related, the fmc is human tho. and i think in the end of the first book the fmc dies? dw she comes back to life becos the mmc helped her come back but they end up being linked to each other or something, like their souls are combined? again im not sure maybe this scene was the plot of another book and im just getting it mixed up.
so yeah plsl help me find this book becos i've been thinking about it a looooot and i rlly want to read it for the sake of nostalgia. also i believe this book was released the same time around when the hush hush, and shadowhunters and fallen series were released so i hope that helps.
thank u to everyone who helps.

Intro: As I alluded to over the weekend, I ordered & got in my FV SP mower, though I got it a day early, and decided to mow the lawn yesterday to test it out. I'm coming from the non self propelled version of the Gen 2 mower, which was a bit anemic, but got the job done for 3.5 seasons. My caveats here are that I haven't used a gas mower in 20 years, and I've never used a self propelled mower in my life, so I have nothing to compapre against here.
Mowinig Performance:
Overall the mower is really powerful, I mowed most of the lawn bagging, some of it side discharging and some of it mulching. The bagging performance was really good, compared to the Gen 2 mower. It was consistently filling the bag to around 90% full whereas the gen2 was filling it to about 20 or 30% which was annoying. This allowed me to mow almost the hole lawn bagging, which I never realistically would have done on my gen2. The mulching performance was pretty good as well. Sure it left clippings on the lawn, however the grass was wet, and the patch I set up last week to test this by not mowing it was almost 8 inches tall. So this was a bit of a torture test. The mower didn't bog down, nor did it seem really to care that I was asking it to chew through a bunch of stuff. I was even able to cold start the mower while it was in the grass, something I wouldn't have been able to do with my gen 2. The rear - side discharge capability was okay it didn't seem to clog as much as the gen2's side discharge would. The clippings were consistently spread across the lawn, and wasn't patchy as it was coming out.
Consistently filled about 90% of the bag before needing emptying.
Some of this was side discharged, and it was spread well enough that you can't even tell.
The mulching patch I used as a stress test. Almost all of this was 4/5 load with some dips to 5 but no bogging down.
Runtime & discharge:
Overall I would say that while I'm not impressed by the runtime, I'm not disappointed, which is really what matters. I went through one worn and two relatively new DCB609s and one full dcb612 which is roughly the same amount of power -- about is 20v equivalent 36 AH, or 12 AH at 60v accounting for battery wear on my older batteries -- as I would have gone through on my Gen2. The difference is that it went through them faster. This mow would have taken me about 2 and a half hours to do with the gen 2 because I would have had to go over the back yard twice. It's really thick and in need of dethatching, plus I noticed halfway through the mow that I wasn't mowing at the same level as I usually do because I misread the height gauge. All in all I went through all of that battery in about 1 hour 40 while mowing wet grass at a lower setting than my gen2 would have been able to do, so overall it's okay. Only subsequennt mows where I'm not trying to torture the mower will really tell. But I'll happily trade additional battery burn for saving an hour in these circumstances.
Unlike the gen 2 though, when the mower cuts out due to the battery, it's not going again. My batteries still ran the string trimmer after the mower refused to use them anymore, so I think the mower just refuses to run when the voltage coming from the battery gets too low. Both of my DCB609s stopped powering the mower with what I guess to be about 10% remaining. Just a thing I noticed. This mower is asking a lot out of its batteries and overall I'm pretty happy how it used them. The batteries weren't even warm when I took them out and that's with the mower operating at over the 3/5's load bar almost the entire time.
Ease of use:
There are some things that I noticed remain true from Project For Alls review of the 20v mower. (Go check it out on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h\_dU8CoTXDw&t=5s) I did agree that the thumb paddles were slightly awkward, though nothing I'm sure I can't get used to. They're very light action so I'm sure part of it was pushing more firmly on them than I needed to. I can't see how they'd be worse than EGO's SP buttons, they seem like they'd be about the same to me, it really didn't take much effort to depress them. I did also experience the thing he did as well where the drive wheels take a second to disengage so it's hard to back it up, however it's less than half a second on my mower so I'm sure some of that is just me needing to get used to using it. I wouldn't categorize this as a real complaint from my side, just a thing I noted. The main complaint I have about the mower is that it's very readr heavy to the front can bounce a bit more than you'd otherwise like, even more than the gen2. This also has a fun side effect of making the mower very wheelie happy, which is just another thing to get used to, again not really a problem, you just don't want to be pushing downward on the bar when you engage the self drive. One random thing to note, my power button has a cracked plastic retaining latch so if I push to the side, it won't properly reset, I'll probably just fix it I don't think that requires a fully warranty service. I'll probably just 3d print something. It's honestly probably a shipping defect because of how the mower is packaged things could it that area. Am I disappointed, yes, do I _really_ care. No. It's not worth a whole new mowever over a button that still ultimately works. I might tweet them just to let them know, but it's honestly no big deal.
I'm actually not sure if it will fit a 615, however if anyone has one, and can measure the tip of the terminal to the back of the battery I can probably check when I get back home tomorrow. The battery doesn't sit all the way in, so i think the far side of the terminal to the back of the battery is the measurement I need and I didn't see that online.
You can absolutely stow a spare battery with you so that you don't have to go to the garage to get another one. :p
https://preview.redd.it/3yh8fasqbu1d1.jpg?width=4000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=48c2a4ad24942a9be25654f23eaf2b3893882bbf
https://preview.redd.it/bdy0swupbu1d1.jpg?width=4000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=df9ea36d9c993d4c8fdf219071b72182eca42b48
https://preview.redd.it/w3wartjpbu1d1.jpg?width=4000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e923f7acbd6e13b44e39da89f3419848bfa70d58
https://preview.redd.it/0ikxavapbu1d1.jpg?width=3000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f1fb7bd6cfb0e17d425e9969c17db6487ed87958
TL;DR:
The mower has oodles and oodles of power, if you have ever used the full FlexVolt 60v Circular saw, it's that feeling that I'm talking about. It just doesn't care about load. It takes a lot to bog this mower down. Is it an EGO? No. Is it class leading? I'm not sure. It is however a good fit for me because I have FV batteries already from my woodworking tools. So overall I'm happy with this. I would recommend this mower for anyone with a bunch of FV like I do. (I have about 21AH at 60v worth of FV batteries) I'm happy with it, and it saved me about an hour of mowing overmy gen 2. As I said in the intro, I've not used a gas mower, nor ever used a self propelled so I don't have anything to compare this to. What I can say is my lawn is really thick so I was able to validate that this mower has "get up and go" power, and I overall liked the self propel functionality, and that's all that really matters right? It doesn't have to be the literal best to be good. I enjoyed using it, it saved me time, and that's what mattered. I'm happy with it and would recommend it.
Edit: Reddit claimed my first post never posted, and was consistently giving me issues with the post. (I then found out through notifications it went up.) I have deleted the original, sorry for any of you that are seeing a duplicate of this. This one is newer and more thorough, so I'm leaving this one up. I deleted the original.

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the NOP Universe.
Hey, I hope everyone's doing well!
Today we return to the namesake of this fic, an actual lesson about animals. This one focuses on Koalas! One of Australia's most recognisable critters. I hope you enjoy.
It's hardly worth mentioning, seeing as I'm an infrequent poster at the best of times, but I'll not have another chapter out for a few weeks due to limited free time and devoting most of my writing time to an upcoming ficnapping. Be sure to look out for that!
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Memory transcription subject: Rysel, Venlil Environmental Researcher
Date [Standardised human time]: 8th September 2136
“Koalas!”
Bernard’s energised voice boomed through the air as the classroom's monitor flickered into life, images of this paws lecture topic popping up one after the other until the entire screen was filled with a collage of furry quadrupeds.
Squee! I’ll never get tired of this, it’s all so cool!
As usual the sight of something new stirred immediate discussion, hushed murmurs swelling into vibrant discourse in little more than a heartbeat. Most of the class swiftly huddled together into small herds to bounce ideas around while the rest opted to stick to the solace of their own thoughts as they took in the display.
I’d be quite happy in either situation, though seeing as Sandi had already sunk into deep concentration and Kailo had peeled off to talk with Ennerif and Solenk, it seemed the decision had been made for me on this occasion. Wasting no more time on idle inspection of the people around me, I focused my full attention forward, eager to form first impressions before the lesson began in earnest.
Now then, time to make some educated guesses. What traits does this animal have? I wonder if I’ll get any right this paw?
Professional assumptions went paw-in-paw with the lectures, examining and coming up with hypotheses about the specimens was only natural. Recently however, I’d started to make a little game of it to make things even more interesting than usual. A veritable bonfire of ideas had been set ablaze within me, fueled by my newfound knowledge of Earthen wildlife. Every flash and spark of the flame was a fresh theory I could try to apply to the lectures. It was an invigorating exercise that further stoked my unceasing wonderment.
So far I’d only done this once during the previous class and, to my disappointment, I’d not done too well.
I was right when I guessed that chickens were omnivores, but wrong in my assumption that they could fly. And that red thing on their head, the um… what was it called? The comb! Yes, the comb. I thought that was to attract mates, but it regulates body heat instead. It’s fascinating. Oh! Stars damn it I’m rambling!
I bapped my tail against my leg, the soft thud being just enough to snap me back from my runaway thoughts before I went completely wall-eyed. I was becoming more and more accustomed to getting lost in my own head while remaining conscious of the fact; it was happening so frequently now that it was pretty much impossible not to. Now I was able to pull myself back to the world around me without having to rely on someone else shaking me out of it. Most of the time anyway.
Sandi still keeps an eye on me, and Kailo even decided to help out once without being too snide about it. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, Koalas.
Glancing at the furred animals, two things immediately stood out. Firstly, their eyes were in a more central position on their face. And second, all the images showed them being on or close to trees. There were other noteworthy observations of course, such as the Koala’s prominent nose and rounded features, but they fell to the wayside as I honed in on these points first.
Hmmm… ok. I already know to discount the idea that they’re predators just from eye position, so let’s get that thought out of here. Maybe omnivorous? Herbivore? Agh no, I can’t just guess that for the sake of guessing, that’s the same problem! Hrm, it’s tough making these assumptions now that everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head.
Nevermind, I’ll focus on the other thing. All the trees make me think they’re arboreal, that seems to be a reasonable assumption. I wonder what else they-
Clearing his throat, Bernard broke my concentration, his call for attention silencing the murmuring conversation and redirecting everyone's focus to the lecturer's podium.
His gaze panned across the room as he waited for everyone to settle, a beaming smile lighting up his face, “As ever I’m delighted to see you all get so into the subject matter from the get go. I’m looking forward to hearing what you were discussing should you wish to share. For now though, how about we get started, hm?”
A chorus of merry bleats rang out from across the audience, ears and tails flicking happily in agreement. Bernard's grin grew in tandem with the class's fervour, clasping his hands together enthusiastically as he launched into the lesson, “Excellent! Then let’s get started.”
The pictures on screen dissolved away until only one remained, enlarging to cover the entire monitor with the fluffy grey face of a Koala peacefully reclining in the crook of a tree.
“Ah, there we are,” Bernard’s baritone timbre drifted through the room as he looked up at the image, his own tone reflecting the relaxed attitude of the animal on screen, “He looks so comfortable doesn’t he? Perfectly at peace with the world, not too surprising considering they sleep almost 20 hours a day. A full paw!”
A wave of beeps and gasps rippled through the herd, punctuated by a single yawn-dressed comment from Rova, “A full paw? Hwuuu… jealous.”
Her drowsy remark elicited several whistling giggles from the herd, Bernard's own jovial chortle joining them as he turned to face her, “Late evening Rova?”
I twisted a little in my seat, panning an eye in Rova’s direction just in time to see her bleary eyes bulge open and her ears shoot up, now intensely aware of the fact she hadn’t been as quiet as she thought she had.
Sitting up abruptly, she hastily tapped down errant tufts of wool that’d flared in surprise as she composed herself, though her nervousness at becoming the centre of the class's attention was still plain for all to hear, “Uh- I um… achem, a little bit yes, um- …sorry. Lokki dragged me out to a movie viewing in the rec centre. It went on pretty late.”
A melodramatic bray from the other side of the room drew everyone's ears away from Rova to the now aghast Lokki, paw splayed across his chest in faux indignation, “Dragged you? Well excuse me for trying to broaden your horizons with human movies. That’ll be the list time I- …Ahaaaa…”
Lokki’s theatrics were cut short by a heavy yawn of his own, a swell of whistling laughter rolling through the herd as vibrant bloom lit up his snout, a sight that elicited a particularly amused bleat from Rova.
Turning away from the duo I looked back at Bernard, pleased to see that he was chuckling along with us. Behaviour like Lokki’s would never have been tolerated in my school and university days but, in stark contrast, Bernard revelled in it, the liveliness of his students fueling his own bombastic style of teaching. It was a pleasant change of pace having a teacher who let us all be ourselves in class; provided we weren’t too disruptive to the lesson plan.
Speaking of which.
His laughter still rumbling through the air, Bernard clapped his hands to pull everyone's focus back to him, “Ok, ok, let’s get back to it then shall we? Rova. Lokki. Hopefully the two of you can stay awake long enough until you can grab yourselves a coffee.”
As the class settled down and the last few giggling beeps petered out, Benard pointed a hand to the screen, “So, the Koala. Let’s start simple shall we? They are herbivorous marsupials native to the eastern and southern coasts of Australia. Easily recognised the world over, they are a well known and beloved symbol of their homeland, along with other animals such as the Kangaroo and the Emu. The former of which you might remember from one of our earlier lectures.”
Indeed I did remember, along with how angry Bernard had gotten after some speh-head had derided the Yotul after he explained how he held specific disdain for such attitudes.
Uuuggghh… I never want to see him angry again. So chilling.
I shook my ears in an effort to dismiss the unpleasant memory, panning my eyes back to the monitor to try and distract myself by inspecting the Koala’s physical appearance once more. Thankfully, by some Star's blessed intervention, Bernard had the exact same idea.
“Koala’s are rather squat in stature, ranging around sixty to eighty-five centimetres in length and weighing little more than fifteen to sixteen kilograms at their full size. As you can see, the fur of this fellow before you is a lovely silvery grey, but their fur can also sport a chocolaty brown hue as well. Arguably the most distinctive part of their appearance is their head, being rather large for their body size and having rounded ears, a large nose, and a pair of small eyes. These are often brown but variations do occur.”
It didn’t slip past my notice that Bernard didn’t bother to point out that the Koala’s eyes were forward facing. I didn’t think he’d simply forgotten, so perhaps he just felt it wasn’t necessary given that he’d already stated it was herbivorous. Either way, no one stuck up a paw or tail to question him.
“Now this will hardly be surprising considering how long they sleep, but Koala’s are largely sedentary and it’s rather easy to see why when you have a look into the contents of their diet.”
With the press of a button the Koala on screen was replaced by images of vibrant green vegetation. Soaring trees and flowering shrubbery weaved together across landscape framed pictures pulled admiring trills from the herd, the diversity of the plant life being shown standing as a reminder that it wasn’t only animal life that flourished on Earth.
After giving everyone the chance to take in the picturesque scenes, Bernard casually hammered that point home, “This is eucalyptus or, more accurately, a choice selection of more than 700 plants belonging to the eucalyptus genus, though the Koala itself favours 30 of them in particular.”
700!? Stars…
Realising that my ears had drooped in my momentary awe, I twisted them back to tune into the lesson, only for them to splay out in shock at the next words to come out of Bernard's mouth.
“The leaves of these plants are the primary food source of the Koala and there are a couple things worth mentioning when talking about these plants. For starters they do not have much nutritional or caloric value, leading to the Koala’s low-energy lifestyle. Additionally, they contain toxic compounds.”
A shiver instantly ran through the herd, ears flicking rapidly in confusion and alarm followed by a few quizzical whispers. It didn’t take long for someone to decide to give a proper voice to the murmuring.
“Excuse me Doctor. Did we hear that right? Their diet is made up of toxic flora?” Vlek’s grumbling incredulity cut through the herd's mutterings with ease. Until Kailo’s recent change of heart, the fifty something rotation old blonde Venlil had been a close second in terms of scepticism. Mercifully his rebuttals had always been relevant questions as opposed to ranting diatribes, so he at least remained on topic if nothing else.
Bernard nodded in confirmation, smiling back at Vlek while absentmindedly twirling the end of his moustache, “You heard me right, they do indeed consume plants that are toxic. Just not to them.”
Any worry or uncertainty still clinging to the herd was swept away by the provision of the glaringly obvious answer, leaving me chuckling inwardly at the oversight.
Ah of course! The plant might be poisonous but they’ll have evolved to deal with that. Stars… I’m so used to expecting the unexpected with Earth that I didn’t even consider the simplest solution.
“I see, thank you Doctor,” Vlek replied, a tinge of interest still audible in his tone, “I assume they’ve developed some adaptation to become immune to the harmful effects?”
The question immediately evoked a smirk from our teacher, but he hurriedly suppressed it while bobbing his head, “They have indeed. There are several factors that aid in their digestion of eucalyptus leaves without succumbing to the plant's baleful properties. The first is a part of the intestinal tract called the cecum. It contains a microbiome that allows the Koala to digest the eucalyptus. Coupled with this is an enzyme in the Koala’s liver that helps them break down the toxins. They are also capable of sniffing out the plants with the least amount of toxins, ensuring that they ingest as little as possible.”
Pausing for a breath Bernard looked back at the screen before turning to face us, another grin curling at the edges of his mouth as he continued with his explanation, “This is mostly for adult Koala’s, because while their young also possess these same adaptations, they don’t just go straight to munching through foliage right after being born. No, they need a little help making that jump and getting a stomach full of all that good gut bacteria. It’s nothing bad, but those of a sensitive stomach may wish to prepare themselves for this next part.”
Bernard’s assurances did little to assuage the concern that his warning had foisted upon us. Having been exposed to so much of the weirdness Earth had to offer everyone always ended up on edge whenever Bernard gave advice like this, even if he did say it in jest.
What strange nonsense thing do Koala pups do then? Judging by the way he’s acting it probably isn’t something as simple as drinking milk from the mother. Hmmm…
“So,” Bernard began, snapping us from our pensive stupor, “Young Koala’s, known as joeys, have a gestation period of thirty-five days on average, which is approximately forty-two paws. Once born they travel from the birth canal to a pouch in their mother so that they can continue to develop and grow. In the pouch the joey finds and latches onto one of two teats and these provide the newborn with a steady stream of nourishing milk. It spends the next six to seven months growing in the pouch, its eyes, ears, and fur all developing as time goes on.”
Okay, interesting. But this is exactly how I thought it’d go. What’s different?
The unexpected normalcy of the Koala’s birth and growth cycle had calmed everyone's nerves, only to be replaced with an air of suspicion as we waited with rapt attention for Bernard to drop the other claw and upend our expectations like he always did.
Not wanting to keep us in further suspense he forged ahead, the tempo of his voice picking up as the smile started to crease his face once more, “Now to make the switch from milk to eucalyptus, the mother also feeds the joey a substance called pap. It comes from the cecum I mentioned earlier, and contains all the gut bacteria required to help the young Koala in making the switch to eucalyptus.”
He stopped and looked around, searching us for a reaction to what I felt was a rather bland statement of fact. What was it he was saying without actually saying? Koala pups drink milk to mature and then include this pap substance so that they can start eating plants. I don’t see what-
The cecum is part of the intestine.
I blinked.
I blinked again, the intrusive interruption scouring my brain clean of any other thought bar the one it’d just implanted itself in the forefront of my mind.
Oh stars. They-
“They eat their own poop!?”
The shocked bleat shattered the peace of the room to reveal that most if not all of us had come to the same tail curling conclusion. As the hall filled with unrestrained vocalisations of disgust, an ‘Ugh’ over here and a ‘Blegh’ over there, Bernard’s own bellowing laughter joined the throng of voices.
“Ha! Everytime! Each and every time. Clearly it doesn’t matter if my students are Human or Venlil. Whenever someone learns about the Koala’s dietary development the reaction is the same!”
Pleased with himself beyond reason, Bernard chuckled away while the rest of us grappled with this ghastly reality. While there were plenty of animals that feasted on things that ranged from simply unappealing all the way to the stomach churningly grotesque, I’d never heard of an animal that actively consumed the excrement of its own species. Benefits aside, the prospect of having to do that to survive to adulthood sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine.
Ewww… Stars, I hope I forget this feeling by 2nd meal. They’re serving sturen and magamroot stew later. I was really looking forward to it.
With the herds mood beginning to temper Bernard tapped the podiums controls, removing the verdant collage of eucalyptus to display several similar yet distinct environments, still chortling merrily to himself in the process, “Ok then, with that little foray into their diet complete, why don’t we look at their habitat in more detail? As you might imagine given their diet and arboreal nature, Koala’s live in forested regions, and can be found in tropical and temperate zones. About a century ago they were classed as a vulnerable species, however efforts were made to turn this around and increase their numbers. Sadly the largest factor in their decline was human activity, as the fertile lands that gave rise to their bountiful forests were coveted farm land for our settlements.”
It was strange to hear Bernard so matter of factly admit to humanity's negative impacts on other species. He’d alluded to such things in the past but always with an air of caution, carefully pawing the line between honestly answering a question while not painting humanity as uncaring and destructive. AKA, the ‘predators’ we’d all initially expected them to be.
Perhaps his comfort in making such admissions was a reflection of the class's comfort with him, for no one so much as batted an ear. Even Kailo, who I would’ve expected to jump at the chance to use this as a prime example of predatory danger, only flicked an ear in stern yet silent concern.
A cough from Bernard drew my attention back, a new picture on screen that showed a forest from a bird's-eye view. Drawn across the image were around a dozen ringed areas, some bordering one another while others overlapped to some degree. It took me a moment, but I soon recognised that what I was looking at was a map, the rings representing what I assumed to be territories. And it didn’t take much effort to guess who each one belonged to.
“From habitats we move onto behaviours, so let’s start with territories. Koala’s are solitary animals. Yes, despite being herbivores. Considering they’re only awake for roughly four hours of the day I can hardly blame them. Lots to do and not a lot of time to do it. Jokes aside, once they mature they are quite independent, carving out a little slice of land for themselves, as displayed in this example, called a Home Range. That is not to say they go it alone and leave everything else behind however. Rather, as shown in the map behind me, they live in their own space while still being part of a larger social group.”
With another press of his pad the picture was updated to show one of two symbols in each segment, along with a key to the side of the map displayed in helpful Venlang. A quick glance told me that the symbols were representing whether the territory belonged to a male or female of the species.
“As you can see there is quite a bit of overlap between different Koala’s territories. It is in these areas that most of the socialising takes place between neighbours. The trees in these locations represent the few areas where intrusion across territories is acceptable for the sake of social interaction. Outside of that the Koala’s stick to their own territories for the most part, with the exceptions of Koala’s who are passing through, attempting to become part of the social group themselves, or dominant males who sometimes go off into another Koala’s range. But how do they know where one range begins and another range ends you might ask? Well, this brings us onto the next part of the lecture. How do Koala’s communicate?”
Wiping away the map from the monitor, Bernard loaded up a video of a Koala sitting in a tree and pressed play. Head held high, the Koala’s body shook as it belted out a reverberating call into the wilderness that could only be described as a garbled combination of a car engine failing to turn over mixed with the hiccups of someone with a particularly sore throat.
That’s how they sound? Oof that must be rough on the lungs.
I clearly wasn’t the only one to share such a thought, because I clocked Sandi tracing a paw along her neck as the noise went on, ears fluttering in discomfort at the noise.
Bernard himself cleared his own throat as the video came to an end, minimising it and replacing it with another image of a tree with a Koala rubbing up against the bark, “I think they’ve got me beat on who’s got the deeper voice!”
His joke garnered several amused beeps, a rare reaction that caused a beaming smile to shine across his face at lighting speed, “Oh you’re too kind. I’ll be here all week. Now where were we? Oh yes! Communication. As you’ve just heard, Koala’s are capable of loud low pitched bellows that can carry over vast distances. These express everything from ‘Hello I’m over here’ to ‘This is my turf, stay away’. Bellowing is more common in the males than the females, opting for shouting matches as opposed to outright fights when it comes to asserting dominance. Other vocal expressions include grunts, wails, and snarls if they’re acting particularly angsty. Mother and joey pairs also communicate through gentle clicking, squeaking, and murmuring sounds. And there’s one more thing worth mentioning. Something they have in common with Humans and Venlil when it comes to emoting.”
Really? They do something we do?
Curious, I pressed myself against the desk, straining as close as I could to once more scrutinise the Koala’s features. Not a lot stood out to me at first, the grey marsupial not sharing many similarities with a Venlil that I could identify.
Ok think. We show emotion with our ears, tails, and our wool on occasion. They don’t have tails so it’s obviously not that. Wool standing on end is more a reaction than a conscious expression. So it must be the ears then.
To my quiet satisfaction, my hunch was soon validated by Bernard, “As well as their vocalisations, Koala’s are very emotive through their facial features. Just like humans, they use their mouths and lips to show how they feel, but these tend more towards the aggressive side of the scale than what you might see on a human. Regarding yourselves however, Koala’s utilise their ears in tandem with their mouth movements when showing strong emotion.”
I was delighted to hear that my assumption was correct, a little happy flick twisting out through my tail and bapping against my chair with a muted thump against the plastic.
Hehe yes! Got one right!
“Now then, we are getting close to lunchtime so I’ll finish this segment off with something I think you’ll find particularly interesting. Diplomacy.”
Perplexed mutterings followed in the wake of the bizarre inclusion to the lecture, my own thoughts being dominated by bewilderment as I tried and failed to make sense of how the two could possibly be related.
Why would Koala’s, or any animal for that matter, be linked to diplomacy? Hmmm...
I could understand dispatching exterminators to deal with a predator issue as a show of goodwill, that at least includes animals, but Humans aren’t like that so I think I can safely scratch that off the list.
Maybe the humans who live in that region benefited from Koala’s in some way. Could they have gotten something from them? But what?
Hopefully not what the pups get from their mothers.
Agh no! Begone awful intrusive thoughts. Blegh! I don’t need that in my head.
As I wrestled with the short-lived revulsion inflicted upon me by my Star's damned subconscious, Bernard placed a new image on screen, one that was decidedly different from all that had preceded it.
On screen were more than a couple dozen pictures of humans. Some were pictured alone while others congregated in large groups while cameras surrounded them from all angles. Across all the images, I noted two common themes. First of all, a solid majority of the humans were wearing formal wear similar to what I’d seen worn by UN representatives on TV. If the gaggle of journalists in the background of the photos didn’t already confirm my suspicions, then it was this similarity which made me conclude they were all people of some importance. Likely politicians judging from context clues.
Secondly, each of the individuals was interacting with a Koala in some form. Some cradled one against their chests while others were feeding it eucalyptus leaves or pellets of some kind. One of the assumed politicians had become an impromptu bed for a snoozing bundle of fur, a gleeful smile spread across their face as they lovingly gazed down at the sleeping Koala in their lap.
As I continued to stare at the assorted photos something clicked into place, a sudden spark flickering into life. A burgeoning light of comprehension that flared and swelled with every wide-eyed breath I took. Some things still escaped me, things I hoped would soon be explained, but in staring at all of the humans happy smiling faces, I was struck with an instant of pure understanding.
If someone, say a Nevok for instance, offered to gift me a creature that was common to them but which might exotic and breathtaking to a Venlil, how could my feelings not be swayed? How could I walk away from that encounter and not have grown closer to them as a result?
“Koala diplomacy,” Bernard waved his hand up at the monitor, a slight reverence in his tone, “My favourite kind of soft power diplomacy. Where political leaders take photo ops with Koala’s and, on occasion, the Australian government loans Koala’s to other nations for a time to bolster positive relations. It certainly helps that Koala’s are a beloved animal worldwide, drawing large crowds and revenue for countries fortunate enough to host the adorable critters.”
The truly alien concept predictably sparked instant discussion in the herd, two polar opposite schools of thought swiftly cementing themselves as the most popular opinions. Simultaneously, I heard one voice trill excitedly while another scoffed at what they clearly saw as a ridiculous and offensive notion.
“Squee! That’d be so cool! I’d love to get the chance to see a Liri from Coila. Remember the Rainbow Boa? Think of that shimmering effect and colour but put it on a bird! Ah! I’ve only heard their song on video. It’d be a treat to hear it in person!”
Ooo! I’ve read about them! I’d love to get up close to one.
“Loaning. As if animals are property to be hoarded and traded? Pugh! Another predatory trait the humans don’t want to acknowledge for what it is.”
Ugh, typical. Jump right to the worst possible option.
However, despite my dismissal of their disparaging fumings, an uncomfortable thought pressed upon my mind. While it was plain to see how much humans cared for the Koala, it didn’t change the fact that humans did keep animals as property just as the scornful herd member had said.
This begged a rather important, disquieting question. Aside from keeping some animals as cattle, a stomach tightening minefield I had no desire to step a claw onto right now, how else did humans keep other creatures. And how did they treat them?
Before I was fully conscious of doing it my paw was in the air, the question primed on my tongue.
Noticing my elevated paw Bernard pointed at me, smiling warmly, “Yes Rysel? What’s on your mind?”
Sorry Bernard. I hope this one’s not too awkward for you to answer.
Flicking my ear in appreciation, and waiting for everyone to settle enough so that I could be heard, I voiced my concerns as neutrally as possible, “Thank you Doctor. I uh, just had a thought. We know that humans keep certain animals for… particular reasons, and we know why. From how you’ve spoken about Koala’s I think it's fair to say that the same cannot be said for them. However, this makes me wonder, what other reasons do humans have for keeping animals and how do you treat them?”
A flash of surprise blinked across Bernard's eyes but vanished so quickly that it felt like I’d imagined it. Had he not expected such a question? Maybe he was just shocked that it’d been me who’d ended up asking it?
Stars, am I so predictable that no one expects me to ask difficult questions?
Unfortunately, a quick glance at my deskmates seemed to prove that to be the case, as both Sandi and Kailo were looking at me with differing degrees of astonishment flapping in their ears.
Well speh.
“A very good point Rysel, certainly one that’s worth raising. Yet another example of you all anticipating what I have to say before I can bring it up myself.” Bernard tapped the podium, switching off the monitor before returning his focus to me, “We won’t be needing that. I’ve nothing prepared that I can show you and we’re heading to lunch in a few minutes anyway. Still, that’s plenty of time to give you a bit of an answer.”
A bit? What does he mean just a bit?
Made even more curious by Bernard's preempted admission that he wasn’t going to fully answer my query, I dialled both my ears on him, fixing him with an inquisitive stare as he started to explain with a tone that was noticeably more nonchalant than any of his previous explanations.
“So, animals in captivity for reasons other than what you already know. Honestly I would love to delve into other reasons regarding why we keep animals. However, I have a lesson plan in the works that I hope to share with you all in the not too distant future. Some of it touches upon this very topic and I’d quite like to bundle it all together. That said, I can tell you how animals in captivity are treated. In short, the answer is very well. There are a mountain of laws both on private and public interests that govern the standards and ethical treatment of animals, and breaches of these laws are quite severe even for relatively minor infractions.”
While I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by the vague answer to what was really the bulk of my question, I was at least satisfied by Bernard’s assurances that animals in captivity, such as the Koala, were well looked after. Considering the barely subdued grumbling coming from some corners of the audience it was clear that several of the herd didn’t believe Bernard outright, but I trusted him to be honest. Additionally, the mention of an upcoming lecture focused on humans keeping animals caused quite the buzz.
I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at exploring the topic further. He’d pretty much confirmed we wouldn’t be talking about cattle farms, for which I was relieved, but that still left a huge amount of uncertainty in what was to come.
Humans keeping animals as cattle was a forgone conclusion. As horrifying as that reality was, it was one I could understand from a detached and strictly clinical point of view. Being predators they ate meat and therefore they kept cattle. But the concept of keeping animals for any other reason baffled me.
What could be the purpose? The diplomacy thing makes sense now that I have context, but what other reasons could they have.
The class's discussions were interrupted by the recognisable ring of the break bell, the shift in attention eliciting a change in conversation from confused hypotheses to peppy conversation on how everyone was planning to spend their break and what they had in mind for 2nd meal.
“Well I can see everyone’s excited for lunch, and who am I to disappoint,” chuckling Bernard waved us all up from our seats, pocketing his pad from the podium and heading to open the classroom door for us, “Enjoy your break, get a good rest along with a hearty meal, and I’ll see you all back here at the usual time.”
As everyone else filed out I stayed behind, waving at Sandi and Kailo as they left, and pawing over to Bernard once he and I were the only ones left in the room.
Ears folded down and with an apologetic tinge in my voice I greeted him as I sidled up to him, “Hey Bernard, I uh… sorry if that last question was unexpected.”
Chortling in reply, Bernard waved a hand through the air in a sign I’d come to understand meant ‘not a problem’.
“No need to apologise Rysel. It was a good question and most certainly not a problem.”
Heh, called it.
I sighed, allowing tension I didn’t realise I’d been holding to relax itself from my shoulders, “Phew, that’s a relief. I’m glad. I’m curious to hear what this new lesson is you’ve got in store for us by the way.”
Bernard wagged a finger at me, throwing up his eyebrows in mock amazement, “Oh are you now? Well I’m afraid you’ll have to remain curious for the time being. It’s going to be quite the surprise if all goes to plan. But…”
He trailed off, glancing at me before looking to the door like he was making sure no one else was around.
Wait, is he going to tell me? Oh please yes let me know now!
Stopping myself from jumping on the spot in excited anticipation, and trying my damndest to stop my tail from wagging in equal measure, I stared up at Bernard as he stewed in his thoughts before turning back to face me.
“I can’t tell you the specifics, but I’m working with Alejandro and Tolim to get something together. A trip that’s not a trip as it were. And when it happens, I’m going to need a few of the more accepting members of the class to lend me a hand. I’m hoping you and a couple others will be able to help with that?”
A trip that’s not a trip? What does that mean? Agh who cares about that right now! Bernard’s relying on me to help out!
Still trying not to keep myself from bouncing around with pup like glee I swished my tail and nodded my head in joint agreement, happy to help with whatever Bernard had in store for us, “Of course! Anything you need I’ll be there to lend a paw. You can count on me!”
A broad warm smile lit up Bernard's face, a hand patting me on the shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you Rysel. I knew I could rely on you but it still warms my heart to hear it. And, as thanks for this and for the many times you’ve shown your support, the surprise includes a little something special I think you’d appreciate the most.”
If my earlier enthusiasm had been at a nine, then the implication of a supposed gift sent it rocketing all the way to a hundred in a heartbeat.
“Wait… WHAT!? What do you mean? What are you doing?”
As impossible as it seemed, Bernard's grin grew even wider as I almost lost myself in wool shaking exhilaration, “Call it my own form of Koala diplomacy. But I’m afraid that’s all I can say for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise even for you!”
“Oh you ass!” Whistling jovially I bapped my tail against Bernard’s leg in fake indignation, evoking a barking bellowing laugh from the man himself.
Still laughing, the two of us departed the class and made for the canteen, my rumbling stomach leading me on while my mind spun with fantastical thoughts as to what Bernard had prepared for us.
And what specifically he had in store for me.

My husbands mother has had an issue initially with bedbugs and hoarding due to illness. while hoarding is an illness in itself we deemed that she simply could not be left alone mentally an need to care for her. we spoke often about how ill she was and both came to an agreement that we must care for her and what better way then get an extra room and simply care for her. shes been living with us for a few years now. and im starting to see her and what her issues are.. she WAS ill at one point but got much much better. i realised that she had issues at one point but she will not help herself in ANYWAY shape or form to the point that she justifies being disgusting. when she lived on her own we tried twice to get her out of a nasty situation. she had a major bedbug infestation in both of her houses. we cleaned out her house and basically got rid of everything but there were still some hanger ons and it infested her second place that we helped her out of....
this second place was next door to us. so we could of been closer. she neglected her dog and made us go out pick up SOME stuff for her. while we had that space she let the dog shit and piss all over the house and never even bathed she would simply buy new things an sit on her ass while trash and shit and piss would build up around her (this was when it was very bad and we decided to take her in) she got out of there which i though was for her own good. she brought in the bed bugs into a few of our homes and they infested our stuff us needing to start over constantly. we even got many exterminators but also costly. we changed to some natural fungus treatment and FINALLY it worked after 3 years of trying to get rid of them.
just this year alone i have a child on the way and its increasingly frustrating that even with a cleaner environment, her getting mental help. getting the proper meds and support i over heard her say to her therapist that she feels unwelcome because of how apparently obsessively clean i am. I am also NESTING and i never really lived in a messy home i dont like it. im not even asking her to clean her own room it is her space but my husband and my step son have tried to clean her room because frankly it does smell to some degree. and theres alot of clutter(way less horrid then what she had but bad nonetheless)
she just orders clothes instead of cleaning them even upon offering to clean her clothes for her. she hoards trash around my house saying she will recycle but she doesnt (beside the recycling bin itself) so i do it for her and she gets angry. she does have incontinence issues so she wears diapers. while she can go to the bathroom on her own she sometimes misses (understandable) but she leaves her dirty diapers on my counter instead of putting them in the trash literally next to the toilet. and leaves feeces and blood on the toilet seat for me to clean. she always makes us buy her things now and horribly unhealthy food all the time and complainss when we sometimes make food for her she doesnt like. (in an attempt to be sure everyone eats what they like we all take executive decisions as a group on what to eat). i feel like were leaving alot of legroom regardless even if we dont like it but its never good enough. this woman refused to eat a pizza because the peperoni was under the cheese..... my husband started getting angry (i always was and i regret this decision)
but i need a more clean home for my baby and i can no longer tend to this woman (aswell as myself and the rest of the familly. my husband has stepped in ALOT and talks to his mom telling her that she needs to for the child but she always gives me these passive aggressive or petty comments. like when i clean she says (my mom used to move furniture around to clean it). or (can you leave the bathroom door open ((so she can breathe but she never had an issue with the window open) i keep it closed to keep the animals out. her cats cant even pee properly so were constantly cleaning the cat litter for this woman. we run errands for her. we setup her appointments for her, we attempt to help her clean her room but she refuses putting everyone else at risk. she gets angry with us for not doing things her way. sometimes me and my husband argue and she says WE bother HER when we argue. to basically stop arguing because it makes HER uncomfortable. after being forgiving for so many years she runs the entire familly bending all of us around her damn fingers for her own convenience. frankly i gave her the benefit of the doubt for a very long time and i just cant take it anymore. even establishing to her that we need her to take care of herself a bit more so we can focus on the end of my pregnancy and when that baby arrives. she still acts like we HAVE to do everything for her. weve asked her to move her own car simple as so that we dont have to pay for tickets... today i just picked a ticket off of her car and she WILL blame my husband for not moving it. we work from home and dont always have the time to do it on time while she has zero responsibilities and NOTHING to do . i was at a point once where i told myself she cant shes sick. but she has no issue going out on her own when she wants to go shopping. she rarely leaves the house but shes perfectly able. i hate to say this but shes flat out LAZY and aa HOARDER simple as and is trying nothing to get better for herself when we directly ask her she gets better for 2 days then she reverts back to slob and (do everything for me go buy me more coke) attitude. i know i shouldnt butt in to the whole therapist thing either but she makes them housecalls instead which means we cant even live in our own house while the therapist is around. and when she sits on the couch.... she then stays there fo DAYS. making my livingroom a mess and TMI but i can SEEEEE her skin sheds ON MY COUCH.
im cleaning 24/7 my husband cares for me and helps me clean and so does his son. and we all contribute. except for her. its a big familly. and when i cant, i ask for help and i get it. BUT i see the stress my husband also undergoes. we have to care for absolutely everyones incompetence with a baby on the way and its extremely stressfull. the LEAST that i want is to keep her own stuff in check but she is completely ignorant.
I need to vent and i frankly want to yell at her and just tell her to wake the fuck up and take care of herself or shes out of my house. but truth is i have still seen my husbands mood improve to some degree knowing his mom is still in a better environment regardless. we cant just kick her out again to be left to her own.
sadly however im starting to think she should just no longer be my business and it should just be me taking care of my house regardless of her being here no matter how anngry or pettty she gets. she completely disagrees with how i handle my house. my relationship. and my familly as a whole. again i dont want to listen in on someones therapy session but the walls are thin. she makes her therapy sessions about how shes uncomfortable and dislikes how I handle MY life decisions and MY kids and MY relationship with my husband.
i love him and she cant even be grateful that we took her in to help. she cant even be grateful that she has a cleaner home to die in. and shes definitely taking advantage of us. when she doesnt need to. Im just TIRED

I 36 female was asked my my sister in law to be her bridesmaid. First off let me say that I love and respect my sister in law. She is an amazing and kind person and I’m so grateful to have her in my life. We are very close and get along 100% of the time with little to no disagreements about anything.
She recently asked me if I would be one of her bridesmaids and I asked her if I would have to wear a dress. She said yes and I declined. I explained to her I don’t feel comfortable at all wearing dresses. Dresses make me feel exposed almost like I’m naked. Even the thought of wearing a dress makes feel nauseous and panicked. On top of that I have really bad social anxiety and don’t do well standing up in front of crowds.
I was a bridesmaid for my sister about 14 years ago where I had to wear a dress and stand in front of a lot of people and it was nerve wracking. The anxiety and feeling of being exposed and stared at was almost too much for me to bare. I told my sister in law about this and she said “you did that for your sister?” I explained that the only reason I did was bc my other sister declined to be her bridesmaid and I felt obligated to even though I was freaking out on the inside.
My sister in law has offered all kinds of bridesmaid attire ideas like wearing leather jackets but all the ideas she has are dresses and I really don’t feel comfortable at all wearing one. The only times I have ever worn a dress was when I was around the ages of 5-6 for picture day at school, prom(which I was forced to go to with my friend bc my boyfriend felt bad for him not having a date to go with) and my sisters wedding.
For even more context I’m not a girly girl, never have been. As a child I played with Barbies, Batman and ninja turtles. Where most girls wanted to dress up as princesses for Halloween I wanted to be Batman and Donatello. I’ve always had mostly guy friends bc I just feel I relate more to guys than girls. I’ve always had a “dude” sense of humor. Dark, fart and dick jokes.
I don’t paint my nails and dress up in girly outfits. I rarely even wear makeup these days. I mostly wear tee shirts, leggings and hoodies bc I feel most comfortable in that. I know it’s hard for my sister in law to understand bc she is stunningly beautiful and wears dresses all the time and she feels good wearing that kind of stuff. When I wear a dress I just feel naked and anxious.
I know her wedding day is her day and it’s not about me and I feel really bad for declining her offer to be her bridesmaid. At the same time I don’t feel like I should have to put myself in a position that makes me feel exposed and on the verge of tears and vomiting. Am I the asshole?

Now that all the real people have blown past this post, let me introduce myself to the bots of this dumpster fire in particular:
Hi, my name is Eve (until I trust you enough with my other name, which will probably be never) and I'm a fucked up-aholic. I think you have to be to be looking for anything genuine or real on reddit. I recently re-downloaded a couple dating apps and it's shattered any last remaining bits of confidence or self-love I had for myself. So, here I am.
I'm not desperate, though. I'm very comfortable being alone. If you're the type of person who messages every "F" (or just anyone) who posts and right swipes through dating apps as fast as your thumb can go, you need not apply. One of my biggest gifts (and curses) is my ability to read people, even online. I check everyone's profile, and I will absolutely make fun of you as I ignore your "hey" ass. Save us both the time and exit out here; no harm, no foul, but I'll remember our time fondly =)
I'm looking for someone whose life would be enriched by a partner, someone who is looking for a wife and children not because they need it but because they desire it. I find that too many people seek relationships because it fulfills a need for them, whether it be sex or children or simple companionship. I am a solitary creature; I desire none of these things unless I find someone I truly like. Sadly, there is no one I currently like enough to be in the same zipcode with, much less grow intimate with.
I made it clear from the title that you won't gain a "trophy wife" here. If looks are your motive, you can also exit out here. Men think all women have it easy. For sex, sure, but the second us ugly ones want more, we're reminded that we're only useful for the middle letter in my name. And I'm worth more than that. If no one else thinks so, then I will happily die as simply nothing.
I ask that you have no current children. No marital background is strongly preferred (never married). US is also preferred, the closer to Upstate NY the better, as I'm not a fan of long distance (but if I like you enough, distance doesn't matter). No cigarette smokers. Also, please want marriage and children in the future. Other than that, I don't care about anything other than getting to know the real person behind the reddit profile. If I message back, you interest me, simple as that.
Take a look at my profile and see if I interest you. I am very honest on here, ironically, as this is the epicenter of shit posting and dishonesty, it seems. My physical characteristics: I'm white, have a few tattoos, wear glasses as I can't wear contacts, 5'5", "BBW" as the kids say but I attempt to live the healthiest lifestyle I can. Light brown hair and dark green eyes.
If you've made it this far, I'm impressed. Send me a chat (preferred over messages) with your favorite music lyric so I can instantly judge your taste in music and thus, your quality as a human being. 😝
Thanks for reading my semi-rant and I hope to hear from any breathing, non-prick humans soon.

I was a casual fan who followed Ariana’s career since 2015. I mostly just listened to her music and watched her performances. I thought she was talented, cute, and fun, but overall I didn’t really have an opinion on Ariana as a person until 2018 when the Mac/Pete/TUN drama happened. I started to side eye her, but I still gave her the benefit of the doubt. It’s been so long that it’s easy to forget how likable she was back then. She had so much good will from the GP.
Anyways, the seeds of doubt had been planted, but I really started to realize that she was a bad person sometime around early 2020. Finally it just clicked.
The way she shoved her relationship with Pete in Mac’s face, profited from the whole debacle (It literally catapulted her from being a B list popstar like Selena or Demi to being an A lister and ushered in her career peak), released a song bragging about her wealth and success followed up by a song basically glorifying being a homewrecker, the mean-spirited JonBenét Ramsey joke, the Pop Crave leaks showing her talking shit about her peers and trying to manipulate the narrative surrounding her dating life, reading about her history of mistreating others, the constant plastic surgery and race-shifting…
Ariana suddenly seemed so smug, phony, and unlikeable to me. There’s still a part of me that’s a fan, but let’s just say that the events of the last year definitely do not surprise me at all.

Two summers ago, I drove 7 hours one way to buy a 2019 Manual Genesis G70. It was used, not certified preowned, with just under 12K miles. The OEM tires were approaching the end of their useful life. It had one scratch on the rear passenger door and an annoying dealership permanent sticker on the trunk. It also only had one key. The head unit infotainment screen also had a small delamination crack - visible if you looked close but not perceptible if you ran your fingers across it. I bought it as is, though Genesis has a stellar warranty that transfers to the second owner so I still had 2 years warranty remaining. It was too far away for me to get it to a trusted mechanic to PPI, so the warranty was a huge factor.
On a long drive to the beach, the screens began to flicker. The car still ran mechanically fine, but it was alarming. I also noticed I couldn't get the Genesis Connected Services to work. A few weeks later, the screens were flickering again in my driveway. I shut the car off thinking if I just shut it off and turned it back on it would fix itself - for about 5 minutes I couldn't restart the car. It was as though it had a completely dead battery. I took it to my local dealer which unfortunately is an hour away but fortunately is reached through a combination of great back roads and highways. They were unable to replicate the issue but decided to attribute it to the head unit and replaced the entire thing on the basis of the delamination crack being covered by warranty. A week after I got the car back, the screens flickered again. I tried doing an over the air software update with Genesis Corporate over the phone and it kept failing, so we went back to the dealership. They manually did the update. After a few more weeks, the screens flickered again. I took it back down and they decided to go nuclear, completely uninstalling all software and updates from the car and then reinstalling the latest software as a clean slate. When I got it back - my genesis connected services were working and the screens never flickered again. BUT. My backup camera would now randomly stop working. I took it back and they tried a patch update to the backup camera software as well as replacing a crush washer that's apparently a known failure point for the backup camera. The problem persisted. They informed me there is a sensor in the transmission that tells the backup camera when the car is in reverse and when to turn on. That sensor apparently failed, and the solution is apparently to replace the entire transmission. I personally found that insane, but a new clutch and transmission covered fully under warranty? Sure, I'll enjoy your courtesy car a little longer. Yeah, on that note. Having the car in and out of the shop so often was annoying, but it was all covered under Genesis phenomenal warranty, the dealership was surprisingly patient, understanding and communicative, and since they're an hour away I had an opportunity to enjoy some courtesy cars on a good mix of backroads and highways. The courtesy cars I had in no particular order...

• 2023 Genesis G70, 2.0 Turbo AWD. Felt heavy and the automatic transmission seems to take up more space in the center console than the manual. Definitely quicker than my car, but I don't enjoy the weightyness to it. I think it might have something to do with how the power is being put down? Like it IS faster than my car and it DOES have better traction in corners but it FEELS much heavier.
  
• 2023 Sonata N-Line. Feels fast and light but not for me. The interior after getting out of a G70 is a let down and the front wheel drive and extra power don't do enough to make up for it. To clarify - I think this is a fun car if you want a quick, front wheel drive sedan - but it's not my cup of tea.
  
• 2022 Genesis G80. Cannot say enough good things about this car. Feels like a true luxobarge. Gorgeous, comfortable, quiet interior, everything feels heavy and expensive but it also has the power to get out of its own way. This was by far, hands down, no comparison, the best courtesy car I've ever been given. I'd go as far as to say it's one of the best cars I've ever driven in my life. That's relative of course, but it really was just such an impressive vehicle. It was hard to find anything not to like about it.
  
• 2023 Genesis G70, 3.3 twin turbo AWD. Holy hell this thing moves. So, this car has the sunroof - which I hate. In G70s with the sunroof, I have to put the seat all the way on the floor to have headroom. I'm 5'11" with a 32 inch inseam if that gives you an idea of my torso/leg ratio. It also had the same heavyness I felt in the 2.0 AWD courtesy car - it's something to do with the AWD but I don't know if it's how the system moves power around or if it's literally just the added weight of the system. It doesn't feel flickable the way my RWD car feels. And before you call me an idiot for describing my G70 as flickable, understand it's all relative and I haven't owned or driven that many performance cars in my life. I know my car isn't a miata. That all being said. So. Freaking. Fast. The V6 has a really unique sound to it unlike any other V6 I've experienced, I can't decide if I like it or not but it's definitely unique. The speed is really incredible and the AWD makes it so usable. You can floor it turning right or left off the line at a stoplight and it will hold the road and put the power down. If I weren't so sure this car would get me arrested, I'd want one.
  

I got my car back and I haven't had any issues with screens or backup cameras or anything else since the transmission replacement. So what's to love? Small, sporty, rear wheel drive car that has the power to break traction but isn't so powerful that you can't use all your gears. To me this car is straddling the line of slow car fast. It's incredibly comfortable, has a great stereo, looks cool, and it's got enough room for me, my spouse, my dog and a child seat. Also so glad I got the manual when I did - manual G70s are not easy to find. This was one of four for sale within 500 miles of my zip when I bought it. The rear seat is actually usable, but the foot room is tight. I'm 5'11 with a 32 inch inseam. If I take my shoes off, I can sit behind my driving position. I have the knee and hip room - but the foot room is very tight for an adult male. Decent gas mileage if you're not driving it like a hooligan. Feels light and eager to turn, even at speed.
What's not so good? The trunk has a high load floor so even though you have a good opening and footprint, it's shallow. It's not unusable, it's just not as deep as you'd expect it to be. I was still able to fit everything my spouse, my dog and I needed for a week at the beach. Speaking of long trips - no spare tire. That pissed me off. Not even a space saver? Come on. I think it should be a legal requirement that all cars have at least a space saver. In any case, this car can accept the same space saver spare kit the 3.3 model comes with or the Kia Stinger comes with. I ordered the parts online and installed a space saver spare myself. The backup camera shuts off as soon as you're out of reverse, even if you're rolling backwards in neutral. This is a nitpick, but I do wish the backup camera would stay on until I was rolling forward. Speaking of reverse, the pedal box is tight and I usually wear an 11 or 12 shoe depending on the brand. With certain shoes, I have to modify my left foot motion because my toe will catch the arm of the clutch pedal. Not impossible, but it can be annoying in certain pairs of shoes or if you have big feet.
Clutch and Transmission :: I'm gonna give this it's own section because I feel like this is a very case sensitive matter. Manuals I drove before this - a 2011 Subaru Outback. First manual car I bought and I drove it for 120K miles before an old dude in a Yukon totaled it. Some people have said they don't enjoy the feeling of this transmission, I don't have much to compare it to. I think the stick feel is fine. The actual clutch is a toss up for me. It's hydraulic, so on one hand it's buttery smooth and easy and very forgiving if you're doing a drive through or in stop and go traffic - things I took pains to avoid in my outback. The flip side is, the pedal gives you very little feedback. The bite point is harder to feel and it definitely numbs the experience a bit. If you're looking for a very raw, analog feeling transmission this is not it. This feels much more like an entry level luxury sport sedan that was given a manual just because it would be cool to have a manual, but also trying to do one in such a way that it wouldn't alienate luxury car buyers who generally find manuals to be a nuisance.
Would I go through it all again? Absolutely. The dealer trips were annoying but it let me test drive some cool stuff and I never paid a dime. The only thing I paid for was an oil change, a new set of tires (not from the dealer) and a new key cause I wanted to have two. The key was $700 which is offensive but unfortunately not unheard of with modern cars. The car is a blast. If you want a smallish, luxuryish, sportscarish vehicle that gives you a lot of nice stuff without being too expensive or too harsh, check out a G70. If you're a manual purist, you may love it or hate it - the clutch is definitely a sticking point for many people. Genesis Dealer? Mine is great, thank god. But I have heard plenty of horror stories from other owners who went to more Hyundai focused dealers. Maintenance? No mechanical issues at all, just weird software related glitches that were all covered under warranty. Mods? Not really planning anything big. I added a sun strip to the windshield, a dash cam and wiring for my radar detector. Also the spare tire. And I put PS4s on it. I plan to keep it stock - at least until it's paid off and the warranty is out.
Questions for reddit :: Catch cans! Should I have one on this car? Is there a recommended brand? Do your mechanics charge you more to empty them or do you empty them yourselves? What does a catch can do that the OEM air oil separator doesnt?
TL;DR :: I like my manual G70. It isn't very fast, but I like it.

I have two weapon related details that makes me enjoy more lies of p, im a average college student btw. I train haedong gumdo, that is a corean saber fencing discipline, and seeing the hwando as a weapon in lies of p, and it having such a wonderful story and beautiful move set is so wholesome to see my discipline represented in a game, not just japanese katana.
And the second one is the fact an umbrella is a usable weapon. A friend of mine is a blacksmith and got me a reinforced frame umbrella, because i prefere it heavy and the fact i can hit stuff without it bending, and that last thing is the protagonist of our story. I got runned by? (I think that's how it's called to when someone threaten you with hurting you if you dont give them money, not native speaker) and because i trained MA most of my life and i tend to react, not think. So, this old man comes to me and grabs me by the trenchcoat (i usually wear one and it being rain season it just made sense) and starts yelling at me to give him money, and i reacted... hitted the old man with the umbrella and ran away. Beeing able to use an umbrella brings me back to that time and cant help but laugh everytime i hit an enemy with the umbrella.
Thanks for reading my stories and sorry im not that good of a writter, and yes, the strikes to the old man were from gumdo

My hair has always been fragile, it snaps with the smallest pull. I struggle to grow it because the length gets very thin after a while and looks horrible and then I need to chop it off.
I have fine soft wavy hair, I wash every 3rd day on average, no heat appliances except sometimes i blow dry my hair a little (because I read that letting it air dry might also do some damage). I have no split ends and my hair doesn’t feel dry. Only hair colors that I ever use are either plant dyes or semiperms (without developer). I usually wear my hair either down or in a loose bun, always using soft materials in hair ties etc.
I feel the breakage is not happening when my hair is wet, rather when it’s dry. Like i was doing a braid on my hair the other day and I could hear some hair strands snapping when they got caught on my hands or other hair. If I pull at my hair it breaks almost instantly. Does that mean it’s dry? Or does it need more protein?
I am also thinking about vitamin deficiencies but googling just came back with lots of different things; biotin, other b vitamins, iron, zinc, magnesium,.. and of course protein which I do eat enough. I have had low iron and vitamin D before but fixing the deficiencies didn’t seem to do anything to my hair quality. I know biotin deficiency is rare but have any of you found it actually helped, with hair strength in particular? What else could I try? My thyroid is fine.
Or is it just genetics? I used to have strong long hair when I was a kid but basically all my adult life I’ve had this weakness problem.

At Walmart with my grandmother, I saw a Hawaiian shirt, and I was going to say, "I want to be this type of *uncle*, the one who just wears this shirt and embarrasses my nieces and nephews." But I stopped myself and said, "aunt".
I'm in the book section looking for Loveless by Alice Oseman. They have heartstoppers. But I can't find Loveless.
I had the whole scenario played out in my head: I ask Grandma to buy it for me, and she asked me what it was about. I would then say an aroace person, and she would ask what aroace means, and I would tell her then close off with saying, "Just like me.".
She agreed to take me to Barnes & Noble!
We were in the car to Hobby Lobby, and my lip started bleeding. Grandma said she doesn't have periods anymore, so the only way she bleeds is if she cuts herself and gets her blood drawn. And I said she was lucky because I don't want periods. I don't need them because I don't want kids. I told her I was done raising kids for a lifetime (I've raised my siblings). And she kept saying I needed to get away from my mother, live my own life, and then maybe I'd change my mind.
She kept trying to convince me to have children one day.
We went to eat and then drove to Barnes & Noble. We couldn’t find it so we asked a lady and she gave it to us.
She asked me what the book was about, and I stuttered and told her, but I didn’t use the word “aroace”.
Grandma read the book summary, and it said it was LGBTQIA+.
She said, “L…G…B…T……Q…I…A+, whatever that means.” then laughed in my face.
She then said, "Skip the chapters that will make you gay.". She then said something then said, "That would piss me off," referencing me being queer.
I'm so scared now. I'm shaking. It instantly made me think I wasn't queer.
To roughly sum it up, I told her that aroace is queer because it's not a 'normal' heterosexual attraction, and she said that doesn't make someone 'this', pointing to the word LGBTQIA+.
I told her what aroace meant, and she went, "You're not that, right?" and I just sheepishly said, "No," all quiet, fearing for my life.
I don't even want the book now. I kept saying we don't have to get it if she doesn't want to buy it, but she just kept saying, "It’s fine. I’ll buy it, just skip the chapter that will make you gay."
What if Mom finds the book?
I'm, like, actually scared now.
When I get home, I'm hiding the book on my desk and praying to God that Grandma doesn't tell anyone I own this.
Mom can't kick me out; it's Grandpa and Grandma's house.
I'm having anxiety now, and my right hand feels tingly like it's going numb.
I can't stop thinking about it.
Grandma asked if I was moving out now since my aunt, uncle, and cousin, are coming home today from their vacation, and since Grandma and Grandpa are here, they could help me move out.
She said my aunt and uncle would love to house me because they love me unconditionally. But if they loved me unconditionally, they would love me for being queer, not make me fear for my life and hide a big part of myself.
But like, am I actually queer, or am I just hopping on some 'trend' (for lack of a better word. I’m not in a good mental space right now, just hang in there okay)? Maybe I'm just a masculine girl (tomboy) and support my fellow sisters for being pretty.
I feel sick.
I don't feel like a man or a woman. I'm just me, ya know? And I want to hug, and kiss, and touch, and cuddle, and have sex with both men and women. Does that say cishet to you? Maybe I've just brainwashed myself into thinking I want this.
I want to throw up now.
I really do believe that God put me in the wrong body. I feel so disconnected from my female body so much.