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I am currently as this is showing up on call with two friends (all of us are trans-nonbinary, which is inportant context here.)
Somehow the topic of nicknaming our genitals came up: I am the only one who doesn’t have a nickname for mine, my fem presenting friend calls hers their princess wand, and the third one said I’m weird for not having a nickname for mine, but like I told them, I tend to just act like I don’t have anything down there most of the time bc I typically don’t think about my own body parts like that.
Am I the weird one? How common even is it to nickname your genitals?

For Mother’s Day I (F22) thought it would be nice to do something for my boyfriends (M24) mom since we’ve been staying w her bc we just moved to his home town. We’ve been together for 3 years. We got her a present and I painted a card. Im an artist and I spent a few days on this painting and was pretty happy with how it turned out, and was excited to give it to her. Also, his mom and I haven’t really connected over much and he thought since we both paint, that could be a topic of interest. So I was also hoping this painting could inspire any kind of connection. While giving her this gift, she commented on the present. My bf said I made the card for her. She asked me if it was watercolor and didn’t say anything else. She was fanning herself with it and I felt a bit hurt. Am I reading too much into this? She’s been kind of weird to me since our arrival and I wanted to do something nice for her but I feel like she wasn’t really receptive or interested.
TL; DR; I (F22) made my bf’s (M24) mom a painting, hoping she would appreciate my effort, but didn’t say anything upon giving it to her - and instead fanned herself with it.

3 years ago in 2021 , I picked up and took my first ever pills of estradiol. There was a lot of emotions going on In me at that time, a lot of happiness and a lot of fear, A lot of worries and a lot of doubts, A lot of impatience and a lot of learning. All from that single Blue pill.
Words cannot even describe how excited I was on that day. In 2021 when I first got my first bottle, I was over the moon and I was telling everyone about it. I told my girlfriend at the time, I told some close friends, I even told my dog after I took the pills, whispering it in his ears. All around that day was one of if not the best days of my life. I remember playing all of my favorite songs all day long and finally saying " This is it, this is The moment in my life where I change everything".
And it did but not in the way that I planned. Don't worry, not a horrible bunch happened but some things did happen. Of course, one of the many things I had to get used to was the new emotions as being a male, I was able to pretty much shut down my emotions for a large amount of time and basically stuff them in a random area. But when I tell you after that I would cry at the smallest things, and then the part I didn't expect for that happened. Instead of my mom comforting me and understanding, scrutinized me and told me that I couldn't be a real woman because I was crying too much, She got angry at me because I wanted to go home after it was too much from an argument I had with my grandfather at the time and emotions were running everywhere and I just couldn't take it. For the first time in my life I broke down uncontrollably in front of a boss, something I would never do, I would have waited until I gotten home but then I realized that since I was on the hormones and the fight was pretty intense/ words were said that were not so nice. It struck a cord. I mean don't get me wrong on one hand. I am extremely glad that my emotions can finally be free but at the same time being met with that level of anger and bitterness from my mom was completely unexpected.
The second thing is the acne. Of course with any puberty you're going to have acne, but I just didn't expect it to be under my armpits, popping everywhere constantly, and for some reason to be in Aries that don't make any sense. Why did I have elbow cap Acne??? Anywho, it wasn't too bad because in the end you know everything kind of worked out.
Speaking of puberty, the hair. Oh my God the hair. It's slowed down, which was great, I got a chance to shave it and I didn't have to worry about shaving it every week and I could just shave it once and keep it a little bit cleaned up and then when it grew back in like 3 weeks I'd shave it again. And for a while I was using Nair for other bits and it was just genuinely nice.
Now this one is the one I've been really wanting to talk about because I haven't heard anyone else experience this. I don't know what I did to trigger it, but I guess by conclusions it was because I felt truly at peace and I did not care about what anybody felt in that moment or those moments in the month/months and I just presented how I always wanted to. Because I did this, I triggered this weird euphoric, warm, Blissful feeling that I've grown to call " The euphoric Bliss feeling" or " Trans euphoric Bliss/Trans euphoric Buzz". Like I said, it was a warm fuzzy feeling and it felt like I was back in 2008(It only makes sense to me but that's the best way I can explain it). It was like I felt HOME/WHOLE And I didn't care what people said, The biggest part of it is that I didn't have any anxiety and that's what truly made me feel free. Before I had to use recreational stuff in order to access this feeling, but in that moment it's like I awakened it naturally. And I was beyond happy when that finally happened.
If there's only one regret I have during this entire transition is that I didn't take enough pictures. Because I was rushing too much. Yeah unfortunately I got caught up and what most of trans girlies that start out get caught up in " The Hallmark experiences" And I did not take any pictures which is the only real regret I have. I know I'm grown and changed a lot but how far and how much is unknown. I do have pictures before I started but they're not really pictures where you can see the good amount of places that changed.
But I do have good news, and err.. Kind of bad news I guess.
I'm starting over, now. You may be wondering: What this post was about congratulating 3 years of HRT, What do you mean you're starting over?
Simple as that. I'm starting over, this time. I'm going to take pictures and be a lot more careful and patient with myself. 8 months ago I had a very bad experience with some recreational stuff and it basically scrambled my brain so badly that I didn't have emotions for a few months and I lost "The Blissful Euphoric Buzz"
My main goal is to try to reawaken that Buzz feeling. If I can and if I can't I'll just accept it. But my miniature goals are to be safe and this time to take it slow and be patient.
All right this is getting too long, but I just wanted to share my excitement for my 3 years of HRT! (I do apologize if everything in this post is confusing, if you have any questions I'd be more than welcome to ask!)
Vyeeeee!! :°3

This is both a rant and not, as it's a complete introspective into the faction. This will be talking about lightspam as well, something that's a nonissue in this day and age but still exists, but nevertheless, is still apparent with a few heroes due to a number of reasons. Though I admit, there ate exceptions to the rule I have established already. The exceptions would be Raider and Valkyrie, who I never feel cheated or unsatisfied if I win or lose against them. I could never hate these two, so my Raider and Valkryie mains, you are doing great. You hearoes could use some slight buffs or nerfs, but for argument sake you'll be excluded. With the two heroes pushed aside, I will now delve into the history of "lightspamming" and deconstruct every Viking hero one by one in order to deduce what makes them annoying.
As I have previously stated, lightspam is a non-issue in today's time in comparison to the past. You see, when For Honor first released, up until the CCU in year 4, lightspamming was real and efficient. Most were 400mls, near unreactable even in today's time and with the newer consoles for those not on PC. In addition to being faster and more stamina efficient when compared to heavy attacks, they also did much more damage by today's standards. Some went well past 22 damage, and some heroes even had 3 light chains to make spamming all the easier. Of course in reference to Orochi, which brings me to my next point in the past, and how the Samurai were primarily lightspammers. Orochi, Nobushi, and Kensei all had three light chains, Aramusha and infinite light chain, Shinobi had little other options, and Shugoki of course had the hyperarmord light to interrupt any and all offense. The stigma still exists of course against the Samurai for this, but only fools complain about lightspam from Orochi, who had the third light removed a while ago much like Shugoki's armored light. The CCU of course took care of the rest, and it made lightspam nothing short of ineffective.
But my dear reader, it never killed lightspam. Lightspam still exists, far weaker, but equally as annoying in today's time. For no matter if they work against you or don't, your opponent will be adamant to throw it out against you, due to the lack of a fully developed brain. My findings conclude the Vikings, ironic enough, house the defacto light spammer in the game. But my research (getting my ass slapped) revealed much more. Allow me to now dive deeper, and explain the basics of our remaining Vikings.
We shall start firstmost with Warlord, adequately named Borelord by some, with how simple and plain this grease stained Neanderthal really is. I have always stated that Warden is the white bread of For Honor, with how simple he is. If that's the case, Warlord would be equivalent the stale moldy bread some boogerpicking child left behind the bleachers during gym. He is a product of his time, forgotten, and both tasteless and unhealthy for you. Despite having absolutely zero redeeming qualities, as he fallen out of meta as of late, people still insist playing this hero. I will like to say firstly, I am not one to judge you harshly on your character choice, you are entitled to play who you desire. But in a game with 34 different heroes, you pick the most stale, boring, and bland hero for more than a single rep? I will question your tastes then, but I understand them. Warlord being a product of his time, has not aged well. I do not blame the veterans of this hero, but it does not have to make me enjoy him. His boring to fight as and to fight, since his kit is extremely limited. Most of the time, Warlord will try to light you over and over to shrink your health pool, so that for the first time in years they may use a heavy and perhaps get the execution. Any reactable maneuver you do, however, will be parried instantly. This means, of course, that your offense becomes that of Warlord, who now has forced you to play his sick twisted game of doing nothing but an opener bash and light attacks. Warlord, who I also like to call Warwar like I was speaking to a toddler incapable of higherthinking, is incapable of doing anything interesting ever. And for some reason, he is one of the last heroes who can easily put you out of stamina, since his parry riposte stuns and eats a chunk of your stamina, and his gb into wallsplat eats a third. For the reasons listed, I believe he is one of the most annoying, and unenjoyable heroes. I imagine most Warlord players wanted to play as a fatman, but didn't want to be funny or interesting like Shugoki, so they got second best.
Onto our next Viking, Berserker. Berserker is an interesting case, because unlike Warlord, Berserker is actually strong. Deemed as S-Tier for the past few seasons and still going strong, this hero is an extreme fucking menace that always makes me sigh when I see one. In some odd twist, I've also seen many grow an ego from playing someone so easy, and given a year or so, I imagine this number might grow exponentially and one day reach at least half the amount of Orochi's with ego, but I digress. In Berserker's case, we have another case of lightspam, even though he's not limited to it. You see, this homeless crackhead can feint intio 400 mls heavies that are armored. He can easily track dodges on the heavy timing, trade and keep his offense going, or interrupt any offense you have going as well. Most Berserks will throw this out 3-4 times in a row, and think they some masterclass good at the game. Despite how annoying this is, it's not as nearly as bad as the rest of his kit, who has no weakness it feels. You cannot outrade him, you cannot outrun him, you cannot outdodge him, and you certainly cannot outdo his absurd feats. His damage can easily reach 40+ on heavies, and his instant hyperarmor enables this easily. If you hated dodge recovery cancels before, then I'm sure you'll hate them combined with instant armored attacks. But while I also understand he's an excellent hero choice, I still believe there's way to many of them. Seriously, every other fucking game there is a Berserker. I've officially counted more Berserkers than Orochi. Orochi. A character whose nickname by the community was Roach, for being a bug you want to stomp and with how many they are. I genuinely wish they take this crackhead out back and break his knees. As a final note onto this mess of a hero, his marching fire armor is fucking ugly.
For our third, is Highlander. Personally, I have never ever enjoyed this hero. He has be a mess from day one, with high damage but no reliable way to acess it. However he's recently received a rework, so, what does this mean? Well, I actually believe his rework was okay. It granted him much more acess to his offensive stance, and gave him more tools to work with. This unfortunately, had the side effect of making him good. If there was any hero that should've stayed bad, it would be Highlander. The idea that his rollcathcer is a command grab that pins you and can easily set up a quick gank is ludicrous, and returning to the light-spam topic for a moment, Highlander can actually do it quite well. Once again, lightspam in this discussion isn't about if it's effective or not, but merely a playstyle of a bygone era most people partake in. That being said, Highlander's offensive stance lights are now 400mls, which, actually makes them an effective means to spam with. So this is our third viking who usually will lightspam you somewhat, which once again, is annoying.
Moving on to our fourth, is Shaman. Shaman is an interesting case, as the always delusional Shaman mains believe just because she's bad (she should be) that she can't be annoying (she is). Shaman, in my opinion, is by far the most annoying Viking. But she is not the best lightspammer. In fact, she rarely spams lights at all. Shaman is actually a very rare case of a zone spammer, as her shit is extremely annoying and effective. Some dodges will still be caught by her dumblooking flurry of blows. It's her spammiest move by far, and genuinely, Shaman is meant to be spammy. This is because in a stroke of absolute fbrilliance, Ubisoft decided to give her a lifesteal as an innante part of her moveset. Yes, the most complained aspect about Kyoshin, is just naturally apart of this ugly tweeker. Ensuring that once she gets an insane 17 dmg bleed 400mls stab, she has a healthswing on every thing she does. Her zone is perfect for this at it's four hits or yet another change at a 17 dmg bleed stab. But my friends, it gets far worst. For you see, her bite is even more absurd. Confirmed off GB or by an ally, Shaman's bite does a huge 35 damage, while also healing her for 50. This is a 50 damage healthswing, which is absolutely absurd, and should not exist in this games day and age. Especially when, an ally can easily sneak in a heavy during the bite's wakeup. Many stupid people defend this, by saying Shaman has to work for it through her bleed. But I must retort, does not every hero have to work for their damage? Does Shugo not have to for his hug? Does Jorm not for his slam? Well ignore what I just said, because not even Shaman has to work for her absurd bite. In some sort of unholy alliance, most Nobushi'a have started keeping Shaman's as pets. Any match with a nobu and shaman is most likely a duo, and you can bet they're going to be sitting in eacothers lap all game. One tick from bleed is all it takes for you to loose against them, as Nobushi's 35 damage undodgable against bleeding foes, allows shamam to get her bite with insane ease. Her bite also guarantees more damage from Nobu, so by being generous, we can say that a Shaman and Nobu gank can be nearly 70 damage. God, I hate this bitch and her stupid hair, and one day I wish Shaman mains may actually learn what good fasion is, so my eyes won't be assaulted while I'm being violated by genderbent Hannibal Lector.
Our fifth is Jormungandr, who actually stumps me quite a bit. His most annyoing aspect is his wallsplat, which frankly, I despise that this mechanic has become more common off attacks. But that's very little reason to place him with these.... other "heroes". No, I've noticed that most Jormunagndrs I come across, also prefer to spam lights. Depsite having an interesting kit, nine times out of ten, they will always light, light, zone, light, light. Even more odd, is I feel most I come across rarely let their unblocable heavy fly, instead, choosing to feint it for a light attack. I actually believe this has to be further researched, so it is here I humbly ask the Jormungandr council to investigate themselves, and found out why this might be. I see now I have the least to say about Jormumgandr, but never the less, I'd still consider him annyoing enough to be listed.
And finally we arrive, to the most, abhorrent, foul, despicable character ever conceived. The pinnacle, of how not to design a hero, the defacto lightspammer, who could make even Orochi blush; Vanrangian Guard. Varangian, is by far, the most annyoing Viking if I push my Shaman hate boner aside. Ubisoft Montreal was truly cooking, when it came to designing this dumbass character. We shall start firstly by discussing her ability to lightspam, which, is frankly uncontested. You see, Varangian has enhance lights, that also have the superior block property. This is not unheard off, what is, however, would be the fact both her dodge attack and her light finisher also have crushing counters. So, by pressing light and light other, she'd actually doing what she's designed to do by the devs themselves. You cannot simply block a light, as that won't stop her offense, and both starter and finisher light give her no reason not to lightspam, as her damage goes up to 20 with a CC. Her CC on dodge attack, is also vastly more generous compared to Tiandi or Zhanhu, who require more strict time. Yes, Virginia really is a lightspam machine, who is constantly rewarded by pressing the right bumper over and over. Even if you parry a light attack and get your punish, she'll surely do it again. But my dear reader, we are not done yet, for you see, that's not all that makes this hero annoying. In another stroke of brilliance, no doubt cooked up by Harvard graudates and other brilliant scholars, she can pin you constantly. In order to combat the meta of wide attacks and hitstun, they made a hero who has wide attacks and hitstun. By simply blocking an attack with her shield, she can pin you for a few second, easily preventing you from doing anythong more. To which, if she so wills it, can do a guranteed heavy, which, will pin you again for an additional amount of time. Vagina is designed, almost directly akin to Warlord, but a modern take that actually makes them a viable pick. Her other mix-up, the orange in to softfeint gb, is also taken from another hero, that being JJ. Unblockable softfeint to gb is not inherently annyoing, but it's extremely boring and effective, mucy like everything else about Vag. She's a brickwall who can also attack thanks to her constant CC's and pins. I also don't believe anyone like her or mains her because they find her moveset enjoyable, anyone who says otherwise is clearly a Ubisoft plant to persuade others that she isn't simply lazy design.
This marks the closure of my post, I hope I have enlightened some to the flawed and absurdity of these chosen heroes, and while I do hope they can be changed for the better, I also hope we can all collectively agree that anyone who plays these heroes are less than human, excluding Jormunagndrs, who are on thin ice. As always, I am open to debate to the comments, and will thoroughly explain any questions one may have.

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My sister (hearing) is a high school teacher and the school is adding a class for American Sign Language. I was talking to my neighbor (hearing) who's married to a deaf guy and has been an ASL interpreter for decades. She thinks that the deaf community would be very upset if my sister taught ASL because she can hear. She believes that the oppressors teaching the language/culture of the oppressed is a bad idea. She feels very confident that most of the deaf community would prefer there be no class at all, unless it's taught by a deaf person.
(Note: This may be true for the deaf community and there may be different and more nuanced arguments. I would urge everyone to avoid hating on this concept as not all communities value things the same way)
But as part of her argument she brought up the act of a straight person teaching/presenting at a queer event. I said that I think the lgbt community would be supportive of an informed straight person speaking to or even on behalf of the lgbt community. But I might be in the minority, what are your thoughts?

So my boyfriends family found out about my work. Let’s say it’s… adult themed lol. My boyfriend quit his job a while after we started dating to do it with me. I earn most of the money but he does a very fair share of the work. I’d also saved up for a while, and I bought us a house.
His sister found out (his ex girlfriend sent her screenshots) and told his parents. They kicked him out the house and didn’t speak to him for months, called me a lot of names over texts and calls to him.
We recently saw his sister. My boyfriend runs an event which she was at, and she went for me. Ripped out a chunk of my hair, hit my head against a car, etc. I tried to speak to her after this (I’d only met her twice before this and didn’t even recognise who was going for me). My boyfriend told me it was his sister and I decided to go and try make amends. She said she was annoyed because we’d taken some adult pictures in his bedroom for our profile, and she was mad because it was in her family home, so I apologised and said sadly it’s happened and I can’t change it, but I’d like to move past it. She got me again, left my head spewing blood.
We also saw her at the pub a different time. She didn’t speak to me and we avoided one another. My boyfriend had words with her saying not to touch me, but she instead reported us to the bar staff and tried to get us kicked out.
His parents have said they no longer hate me, since I bought a house. We’re about to invest in more, so his parents saw how much money he makes and have forgiven him.
However his mother still sends texts criticising me when she’s drunk, stuff about the photos I post on social media (one was from a halloween party with a friend that recently passed, that I uploaded in his honour - it’s halloween though and I was dressed as… well I wasn’t wearing much) and the likes.
He’s tried to get me to go see his parents/invite them over. I’ve said I’d rather just not speak to them - they’ve not only seen me half naked but also called me a bunch of names and it hasn’t seemed to have stopped yet.
He says I’m being unreasonable - I don’t know though. I feel like I shouldn’t cut off his parents entirely due to the actions they do when drunk, and due to the actions of their daughter.
I really am torn. I want to make him happy, and he would love us to get along. However I just don’t feel totally comfortable seeing them given the issues we’ve had.
So AITAH if I choose not to be involved with them? I’m mostly worried because my boyfriends been mentioning marriage a lot recently, and I’m scared of the awkward moment of seeing them at the wedding after barely speaking for our whole relationship.
EDIT: apparently they’ve been wondering why we haven’t invited them over, which my boyfriend is worried about. No criticism towards my boyfriend from me either. This isn’t a massive argument, I’m just worried I’m being unfair. He respects my wishes (for the most part), he only tried to make me see them once. He’s an angel who will always defend me to his last breath! I just want to hear some impartial opinions.
EDIT 2: re not pressing charges against sister - my boyfriend had just repaired his relationship with his parents and didn’t want any further bad blood between his family and him. He didn’t want me to, so I decided not to. I don’t want to further destroy his relationship with his family. I know it was his decision to start doing this work with me, but I can’t help feeling like it’s my fault their relationship is damaged in the first place.
EDIT 3 LAST ONE SORRY GUYS: WIBTAH if I decided to not have them present when we finally do get married? His mothers very verbal when drunk, and I don’t want her to blab about my job to my family members who don’t know what I do. Obviously he agreed his sister won’t be present. He was never very close with her, and is still angry at her for showing his parents explicit photos of him, and for hurting me.

I believed in fairies as a kid. More than believed in them. I think something terrible happened to me, and I've just buried it until now.
Call me a typical emotion-bottling man, but I have never considered therapy. No matter what I went through, no matter how many times I thought to myself, verbatim, that I should talk to someone about this, I just never thought of it as an option. It simply wasn't on my roster. It was just one of those things that existed on a separate plane of existence than I was living in, never to cross paths or interact lest the universe collapse in on itself.
I have no problem with therapy, don't get me wrong. It isn't like I don't understand the overall appeal. I have plenty of friends who swear by it, swear it has helped them tremendously, including my wife. It just wasn't ever something I thought was in my cards.
"I just never really thought about it," I told Alice one evening, when she had brought the topic up once again after dinner.
There was a serene sense of peace wafting through the entire house that day, and I was feeling content. It was a Sunday, and swimming season, so we had dropped Emmie off that morning at the public pool for practice and gone straight to our favorite breakfast place. The rest of the day was filled with all the conversation that had built up over the week, all the topics we couldn't fully dig into with each other while babysitting our eight year old, and lounging, all crammed in between sporadic bursts of housework and paperwork we had to catch up on. It was the perfect day, in my humble opinion. It was a lovely moment of peace in the midst of a chaotic life, as is life with kids. And now the sounds of Mario Kart drifted in from the living room, Emmie's squeals cutting through the cheery music every now and then, causing Alice and I to share small smiles of acknowledgement.
Oh, to be a child again. Still a little drenched from a post-swimming shower, full of chili, eyes glowing with the reflection of a television screen.
"Well, maybe you should." My wife was scooping leftover chili into a Tupperware with a ladle. Her hair had been tied up like it was every day after dinner, as if she planned to run a marathon rather than do the cleaning up. She wasn't looking at me, dialed into the task at hand.
It's crazy how some parts of my memory could be so good, and others nonexistent.
I reached over from where I stood before the dishwasher, sliding my arm around her waist. She gave me a look, like, what?
"I just don't think it's for me, babe," I muttered, resting my mouth on her shoulder as if I was trying to skip her ears and speak right through her skin. "You know those things make me uncomfortable sometimes."
She let out a half groan, half sigh, setting down the container and the ladle and turning to face me, draping her arms over my shoulders.
"Everything makes you uncomfortable, John."
I smiled, letting my hands fall to her hips. I knew her frustrated act was just that, an act, at least for the most part.
"It's good for you," she continued pointedly, reaching up to tap her pointer finger against my forehead as I swayed her back and forth to a nonexistent tune. "Like medicine. And I know for a fact there are some things you need to work through."
I feigned offense. "You think I'm some kind of nut job?"
"Everyone needs therapy," she snarled, pulling out of my arms, but she didn't resist when I reached out and drew her back in. "Not just nut jobs."
And that was how most of those conversations went. Some got a little more heated, ending with a lightly slammed door (so as not to wake our daughter) and a whisper-shout of "this is why you need therapy!"
I feel I'm making it sound bad, but it wasn't. Even our more serious fights never quite felt like fights. They felt like playing. We were like two cats, biting and tackling and swishing our tails, but never baring our teeth to hiss. I never felt genuine, full-bodied anger towards her, and I knew she felt the same. It sounds sappy, but we were just very in love. I sometimes felt that we had never actually left the honeymoon phase.
I'm also making it sound like that conversation was incredibly common, and it wasn't. It came up maybe once every few months. I knew she was just looking out for me. She knew me better than anyone.
We had met through mutual friends, and we had initially bonded over our terrible childhoods. We both had moms who were out of the picture, and over emotional, over compensating dads, although this manifested in vastly different ways. Alice's mother left her father for a D-list rockstar type, following him on his state wide tour. She would sometimes send Alice letters or postcards from the road, although her dad wouldn't always let her keep them if they seemed to be stained with blood or seemed to have made contact with any strange white powders.
Her dad coped with anger. He never laid a hand on her, but his shouting and the sounds of glass bottles smashing against the walls kept her up almost every night. During the days he'd take her out, buy her things, go mini golfing and bowling and to the movies. Anything to seem more fun than her mother.
My mother passed away on my seventh birthday. She was driving home from work, which was at a law firm half an hour away from our house, when it began to rain. She was texting my dad her ETA when she ran a red light and a semi truck T-boned her, completely obliterating her car.
After that, everything changed. My seventh birthday could've been my twenty-first. At night it was the worst. I remember sitting with my dad as he cried, curled up in a sobbing ball on the filthy living room carpet, whimpering like a kicked puppy. He would scream and wail so loud the walls shook. He would say, over and over as if I wasn't hearing him, sometimes mumbling and sometimes shrieking, "She was cut in half. I'm sorry sir, she's gone. No, there's no chance she survived, she was completely cut in half."
The days were almost worse. During the day, when he could decrease the helpless wails into weeping at the very least, his attention turned to me. He tried to get something out of me, almost silently begging me to break down with him. Every other second it was, "How are you feeling, son? Do you understand what's happening? You poor thing, you must be devastated, your mommy is gone... Don't you want to cry?"
But I couldn't indulge, and I didn't want to. I had to wash the sheets, because he'd pissed them again, and I didn't want him to sleep in it and smell like pee when he took me to school the next day. I had to vacuum the carpet, so the next time he curled up on it and begged God to take him too, when he finally stood up, his cheek wouldn't be caked in crumbs and dust.
I don't know if I ever truly mourned. My mother's death was more like an absence, as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and carved a chunk out of my side, or snipped off a limb. I could still feel her, I could still talk to her, but all I got back was a deep ache and a crushing silence.
I hated how people reacted when I told them my mom was dead, and had been since I was a little boy. I hated the looks on their faces when they asked how she died, and when I told them. How their mouths fell open dumbly and their eyebrows twisted and contorted in sympathetic horror. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know," they said, as if there was vomit rising in their throats, and I wanted to say, "Well, you fucking asked, didn't you?"
Alice never reacted like that. In fact, she never really even asked me what happened. We were on our second date, nursing beers while leaning against the pool table a a dingy speakeasy, when she told me about her own mom. It was the first time in a long time I actually felt like the conversation was open, like I could respond and she would listen and care, but not too much. Not an uncomfortable amount. When I told her about my parents she didn't say anything, and her pretty face didn't contort. She leaned over the corner of the pool table and kissed me on the cheek, took my hand.
The day she found out she was pregnant, we promised each other to be better, to not let our child ever have to grieve alone or feel the very specific hopeless terror that only a parent can cause.
So maybe I should have listened to her. Maybe I should have gone to therapy the first time she brought it up, the first time she told me how it had helped her get through her own terrible memories. But if I'm being honest, I didn't think I had anything to get through. I had left it in the past, I had coped so far in my own somewhat crooked way, I didn't want to dig any of that back up. I didn't want to be put back in that place where I was expected to talk, to cry, to open up. It made my skin crawl just thinking about it.
"I was always the therapist," I would say to her with a crooked grin. "And I like it that way."
Then, the dreams started.
I could tell you I don't know what triggered them, I don't know why it was now. But that wouldn't be the truth. I know exactly why I started to remember.
At first, they were brief. Nightmares that I couldn't quite recall or explain, waking up disoriented and a little sick. The rest of my day would feel strange, like I was surrounded by a thick fog. Eventually, they started to wake me up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and screaming, scaring the shit out of my wife. Once I ran to the bathroom and threw up, barely making it to the toilet. That was when the word "therapy" came up again.
It feels like I've been in a coma for twenty years, and I'm just waking up now.
It's so strange how different the world looks to a child.
I believed in fairies as a kid. Laugh it up if you want. When I turned four, my aunt brought me this book - we've all had one, I think. It was one of those huge hardcover books filled with information about something mythical, with little patches of fabric to simulate a mermaid's scales or a dragon's claw.
Mine was about fairies, and it was so real to me. My mom would sit up with me later than she probably should have, reading to me, placing my hand on the textures to feel. I wanted to know everything about them, I became obsessed, and naturally, my parents played along. They bought me toys, books... every year I had a fae themed birthday cake, and any kid who dared to giggle behind their hands weren't invited to next year's celebration.
When I was old enough to use the internet, supervised of course, I began further research. My mom helped me navigate Wikipedia first, and they had plenty of information to sustain me for a while. My interest turned from wings and magical powers to different types of fae from every corner of the earth, mushroom rings and their alleged distaste for iron. While I still wasn't very good at reading, I would just look at the pictures until she got home from work.
When my mom died, the fairy memorabilia began to amp up. My aunt bought me new books, gave them to me wrapped and tied with ribbons with tear filled eyes, and my dad brought them up whenever he thought I needed comforting and felt strong enough to leave the house. "Wanna go look in the forest for fairies, son?"
I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I began to worship the fairies. I was convinced they lived in the forest behind my house, just behind each tree I looked at, hiding from me. I would spend my weekends escaping into the woods with a bucket and a cheap pair of binoculars, positive that this time, this day, I would see one.
At night, when my dad finally passed out in his own puddle of tears and other bodily fluids, I would pray to them. I never believed in God, we weren't a particularly religious family, and besides, I had seen what good He had done for my dad thus far. But I believed in the fairies.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
They never answered.
Until they did.
It was a Friday. I remember now, I'm not sure how I could have forgotten. After school I had sprinted into the shade of the trees before my dad could stop me, gripping the hem of my shirt in my fist, the thin fabric bearing the weight of two handfuls of the shiniest silverware and most colorful buttons I could find in our dusty cabinets.
I had a plan that day. I was going to lure them to me.
My path began in a clearing where I thought a ring of mushrooms may have begun to grow... but even without that, it was just the perfect spot for fairies. I could picture them flitting between the trees, chirping to each other happily, picking wildflowers to weave into flower crowns.
I walked backwards all the way back to my bedroom window, dropping another item every few steps. When I got inside and looked out my window, I could see my trail of shiny things curve through the overgrown grass in our backyard and disappear into the trees.
I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. Tonight, surely, they would come to me. They would show themselves, and they would help me. But after another few late hours of coddling my father, finally convincing him to drink some water and get in bed, I was exhausted. I completely forgot about my plan. When I got to my room I collapsed on my mattress, not even bothering to undress before I closed my eyes.
Then I heard it. The scratching.
I opened my eyes. The moonlight shining through my bedroom window casted strange shadows across my ceiling, shadows of the swaying grass and the creaking trees.
It was strangely silent, other than the sound. Usually there was lots of noise, or at the very least a few crickets, but not tonight. Tonight, I realized, I couldn't even hear the wind.
I sat up slowly, as if in a dream, and looked toward my window. I couldn't see anything out there, nothing glaringly obvious at least, that could be making that noise.
The scratching turned to a tap. Tap tap tap, like a fingernail against a glass. It had a playful air to it, like someone was saying, look over here!
I stood, rubbing my eyes, and stumbled over. The tapping stopped abruptly when I got to the window and peered outside, out to the dark yard, pitch black if not for the moon's glow. The grass didn't sway, the trees didn't creak. I frowned and unlatched the window, sliding it up above my head.
I was right, there was no wind. Not even a gust. Everything was still outside, like it was frozen. I actually started to believe it was frozen, that time had stopped completely somehow, before I saw it.
My trail of silverware and buttons. Sparkling softly in the moonlight.
Disappearing.
It began where the path met the trees, curving off where I couldn't follow it anymore. A fork disappeared right before my eyes, right on the edge. Just vanished, as if someone who was invisible had picked it up and stuffed it in a pocket very quickly.
Then another went, a spoon. Then a particularly large gold button. Whatever was taking them was doing what I had wanted, it was taking my bait, it was coming to me. And it was as if whatever had tapped at my window had wanted me to see this, wanted to show me.
But something felt very, very wrong.
This wasn't how I had pictured it. There was no twinkling, tiny winged thing at my window, winking at me before dashing back into the safety of the trees. There were no secrets being whispered in my ear, no fairy dust or promises of better things.
Something about this wasn't right. It felt like a mimicry, almost a mockery, of what I had imagined. Like something was trying to give me what I wanted, but was rusty at it.
I didn't want this anymore.
My stomach twisted and my hands shook as I pulled the window back down slowly, watching more glittery things disappear from the grass, growing closer and closer. As soon as it was closed I quickly locked it and pulled the blinds shut, turning my back to the window as if something would happen that I didn't want to see.
Nothing happened. The deafening silence continued for a few seconds as my ears strained to hear anything else happening outside. Then the wind picked up, and the sounds of crickets, muffled by my closed window, filled the night air.
I don't remember when I fell asleep that night, I just know I felt unnerved and jumpy for a while. I woke up the next morning feeling guilty. Had the fairies really come last night? Maybe they had come to talk to me, to bring me gifts, favors, and what had I done? I had closed my window on them. I felt ungrateful. Why had I even been scared? Because it was dark outside? What was I, a baby?
When I opened my window and peered outside, I gasped. The trail of silverware and buttons was completely gone, all the way up to the last one, which I had placed on my windowsill. In its place was a shoe. I didn't know what kind of shoe it was, but it looked sort of nice, fancy. I remember smiling out the window as I opened it, as if they were looking, and taking my gift.
How could I forget that night? How could I have forgotten what happened after? I feel crazy, either like I made it all up or like I've made up everything since then, like my life isn't truly my own.
I remember telling my dad. I remember saying, "Dad, the fairies came last night!" and the absent smile he gave me.
Until I showed him their gift. The shoe. Instantly his face went pale and he snatched it from my hands, staring at me as if I was something unholy.
"Where did you get this, Johnny?"
"The fairies, dad, I told you!"
He didn't respond. Just gave me another long, solemn look, before turning away from me, still holding the present I received close to his chest. I was upset, but I knew better than throwing a tantrum. That would be too much emotion anyways, too uncomfortable. Even back then, I didn't know how to handle those things.
I didn't show him their gifts after that. I didn't want to risk having them taken away. I tried not to be scared of the fairies, even though they always came at night, but I didn't go to my window when they came anymore. I read everywhere that fairies didn't particularly like to be seen, even though this one seemed to want to be. It always began with tapping, but otherwise complete silence that almost felt like it was swallowing me... and eventually the tapping would stop, the silence would pass, and I would fall asleep. In the morning there was always another gift for me, sitting on my window sill. A sparkly gold ring, the other matching shoe, a hat... I smiled when I took every one, wanting them to know I was grateful. And I would leave things for them too, little sweets or shiny things like coins or paperclips that I found on the ground at school.
Things seemed to get better with my dad for a while. He kept to himself more, he was quieter. At night he would cry softly in his room, rather than his uproarious wails that I used to have to quell so the neighbors wouldn't come knocking. During the day, he would talk to me, but more casually. He didn't ask me how I was feeling anymore, or tell me to let it out.
I hoped this was the fairies. I felt invincible, like I had a secret superpower that no one knew about. I was friends with fairies.
Then one night, everything changed.
It started with the tapping, as always. That night I was fast asleep, catching up on well earned rest since the nightly therapy sessions had ceased.
The tapping woke me. It was that loud. It was louder than usual... but it seemed like it stopped abruptly as soon as I raised my head to look.
That was different...
That night, I had left my blinds up and my window open by accident. Since that first night, even though I wasn't scared anymore, I had always closed them... but this time, I must have forgotten.
It was silent outside. It seemed darker than usual. I could almost make out something, a shape, way on the other side of the yard, but it was too dark and I was too far away to tell.
That feeling from that first night retuned. A twisting like a hand reaching into my stomach and mixing things around, a heavy feeling in my chest like someone had stolen all of the air from my room, even though the window was open. The silence seemed to crush me, bearing down on me from every angle, making my ribs hurt.
The feeling that something was very wrong.
I don't remember deciding to stand: looking back, I have no idea why I would do that in my state of fight or flight. I don't know if I consciously chose to. I don't remember walking over, but I remember getting there, my hands on the windowsill and my head poking out into the completely still night air.
There was something there. On the edge of the trees. Right where I had seen that first fork disappear into thin air. I squinted, leaning further into the darkness to try and make out what it was.
When I finally did, the outline taking shape as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to shake uncontrollably. I remember that I tried to scream, but no sound would come. I couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare.
Two legs stood in front of the trees, facing me. Two legs, a blood-soaked pair of slacks, no shoes on the purple, swollen feet. And a jagged, violent rip in the torso where the rest of my mother's body had been severed from its lower half.
It took me a while to realize that the legs weren't standing on their own. They began to move, jerking clumsily toward the window, like something I couldn't see was struggling to hold them up. I finally forced myself out of my trance and fell to my carpet, vomiting.
I don't remember much else about that night yet. My dad came running when I started crying, I'm sure, but he didn't see what I saw. My mom's legs were gone, or hidden. Because they weren't for him.
They were for me.
We moved after that. Before now if you had asked me why we moved so far away so suddenly, I probably would have mumbled something about the grief, and it being too hard to stay where my mother had died. But I remember why now.
It was because the next morning, when I checked my windowsill, there was a hand. My mother's hand. Purple and stiff, and missing her gold wedding ring. Reaching, fingers rested against the glass, like it was trying to get in.
Like it had been tapping.
I don't want to think about what else it might have brought, had we stayed.
That thing, whatever it was, wasn't my mother, and it wasn't a fairy. I had invited something else with all my praying, with all my naive and innocent beliefs, and with all my bottled up emotions. I had invited it, and I had let it in.
And then I had forgotten everything. Maybe I bottled that up, too.
Now I remember. Now I'm having nightmares, and waking up with that sick feeling in my gut, my eyes jumping to our closed bedroom window.
Because a week ago, my daughter woke me up very early in the morning my jumping on our bed. A week ago, she shook me awake, her eager smile stretching all the way across her face. A week ago, she told me, "Dad, the fairies came last night!"
She showed me a doll, a ballerina, with a pink tutu and beautiful long blonde hair.
And now, with all these terrible memories hitting me like cold water to the face, only one keeps me awake at night.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
It has granted two of my wishes, in its own twisted way. My father grew distant from me and my mother was brought back in pieces.
I'm happy now. But I don't have peace. I don't think I'll ever fully have peace, at least not with a child and a wife to try and provide for, and not with all of these memories.
So what has it come back for?

We're less than ten weeks away from the latest installment of Confluence, the filk-friendly science fiction conference that will be held near Pittsburgh, PA, USA (July 26-28, 2024, at the Sheraton Pittsburgh Airport Hotel in Coraopolis, PA; https://confluence-sff.org ). Confluence 2024 will have representation from a wider variety of fannish musical subcultures than almost any other convention! Here's the (almost) final schedule of what will be happening at this Confluence in Ballroom 1, the music and performance space:
Friday, July 26 4 to 4:50 p.m. Filk Mad Libs led by Randy Hoffman 5 to 5:50 p.m. Pegasus Awards Brainstorming Discussion led by Randy Hoffman 6 to 6:50 p.m. Concert by Damon Buxton (acoustic guitar) 7 to 7:50 p.m. [Opening ceremonies with Bonnie Gordon and the other marquee guests] 8 to 8:50 p.m. Concert by Dream Quaffle (wizard rock) 9 to 9:50 p.m. Concert by Schaffer the Darklord (nerdcore rap) 10 p.m. to ??? a.m. Open filk song circle
Saturday, July 27 10 to 10:50 a.m. [Workshop TBD?] 11 to 11:50 a.m. [Swordfighting demo by Pittsburgh Sword Fighters] 12 to 12:50 p.m. Concert by Gwendolyn Grace (SCA bard) 1 to 1:50 p.m. Concert by ilyAIMY (nerd-friendly folk rock) 2 to 2:50 p.m. Concert by Super Guitar Bros (videogame music) 3 to 3:50 p.m. [Guest of Honor presentation by horror author Richard Kadrey] 4 to 4:50 p.m. Concert by Technical Difficulties 2.0 (filk) 5 to 5:50 p.m. Concert by Steel Samurai (videogame music) 6 to 6:45 p.m. [Closed for dinner and setup] 6:45 p.m. Doors open for seating 7 to 8 p.m. [Play: "A Mockery of Mimicry" (celebrating 50 years of D&D) by The Confused Greenies] ~8 to ~9:30 p.m. Featured Music Guest Concert by Bonnie Gordon (nerd comedy music and lots more) ~9:30 p.m. to ??? a.m. Open filk
Sunday, July 28 10 to 10:50 a.m. [Workshop TBD?] 11 to 11:50 a.m. [Workshop (topic TBD) by The Confused Greenies] 12 to 12:50 p.m. Concert by Steamcordia (steampunk) 1 to 1:50 p.m. Concert by Jeff Whitmire (horror-themed comedy music) 2 to 2:50 p.m. Concert by Members of the Washington Metropolitan Gamer Symphony Orchestra (WMGSO, videogame music) 3 to 5 p.m. Dead Dog open filk
(For those who are able to stick around after the official music-track activities end, we will probably be having our Undead Dog open filk on Sunday night.)
You can order a Confluence 2024 t-shirt at https://confluence-sff.org/t-shirt . (All t-shirts need to be preordered by June 15 -- we'll have very few extras at the con.)
You can preregister for Confluence 2024 memberships at https://confluence-sff.org/registration . Do this by June 30 to get a membership for $55 (the full-weekend rates go up to $65 after that).
You can reserve hotel rooms for Confluence 2024 hotel room(s) at https://confluence-sff.org/hotel . (Although the room block doesn't close until July 12, we ran out of rooms before the block closed last year.)
Hope to see some of you there!

I am a 16-year old Christian who has been developing my own personal beliefs my entire life because I simply do not fully believe any denomination. I would like to ask if my beliefs, which I will list, fit into any one denomination or if I will have to continue with no clear denomination. Feel free to try and change my mind, too, but I’m not looking for heated arguments, only new ideas and contradictions with my own so I can improve my belief.
A preface: I went to a weekly Bible study after school for most of elementary school. In third grade, I went up to the kind old lady teaching as we were all packing up and asked how dinosaurs could have fit into the 7 days the Bible said the Earth was created in. She was honest, and said she never thought about that, and said maybe I could figure it out. The next week, I walked up to her again and presented the idea that perhaps God, being an omnipotent deity, perceives time or uses time differently than we can comprehend (this is not my exact belief now, as I had only just thought of it then). She thought it was wonderful that I was curious and did not attack me or downplay my proposition. This started my struggle between believing in God or science. Everyone had always presented it as if only one could be true—but I wanted both.
Before my Christian beliefs, my government beliefs. I have a 103 in Ap Government and I made a 107 in AP World History last year; I know that theocracy is a dangerous thing—it led to the Salem Witch Trials and before that the corruption of the Catholic church. My first belief is in total separation of church and state so as to allow all people to express their own personal beliefs freely. No beliefs, no matter how “righteous” must ever be forced onto someone. People should come to their own conclusions over the course of their life using their own struggles.
Now for my creation beliefs. I believe in the entirety of the Big Bang theory—the universe had a sudden expansion which is still continuing to this day that caused rocks to hit one another formed a ball of molten rock that collided with icy comets, made the oceans, made life, and that life evolved into ancient primates and into humans. However, I never believed that the Big Bang just “happened.” It was illogical for the universe to spontaneously appear. So I believe God created logic, as well as all other foundational principles of the universe, and then acted as a catalyst that started the Big Bang. The reason why I believe this is that the spontaneous creation of a universe from nothing without cause is illogical, but it happened anyway, so. whatever started it must be above logic. God created humans not spontaneously but over the course of millions of years, slowly “forming” them into his image using ancient primates.
And my Biblical beliefs. I understand the Bible says differently—that the Earth was created in 7 days and that Eve was created from Adam’s rib. I believe that God spoke through the author of Genesis and told them the story about the rib so that the other people of the Earth would have an easier time accepting the belief. Keep in mind, this was during a time when saying the Earth was round would make you look like an absolute idiot. If God had told the author all of the thory of evolution, the author might not understand, might go insane from the amount of knowledge, or the Bible simply wouldn’t be believable to people at that time. Has this happened, the Bible never would have spread to see the massive audience it has today.
God works through science. God gave us our human intelligence for the purpose of questioning things. We are supposed to find out how the universe works ourselves, how to understand all of existence, and anything we have done up until now is because God wanted it to happen.
Keep in mind I am only 16 and might not have a rebuttal for everything—and that’s okay! I’ll continue to develop my beliefs over the course of my life and maybe I’ll find out I’m right or wrong someday.

I haven’t posted something like this before. But I hope that Reddit can offer me some good advice because I really need some outside perspective here.
I’m 22F at university and live in external accommodation with 4 other people. I’m friends with a couple of them and my current issue is with one girl 21F. We’ve been pretty close since the start of uni. We’re on different courses but lived in dorms together and moved out into external accommodation together this year. So we’ve been friends for nearly 2 years now.
I want to continue being good friends with this girl but my problem is that she’s got zero interest in me. But still wants to be close friends with me. This has been frustrating me for a long time and present since I knew her. I thought she’d get over it stupidly.
She rarely asks me about my course but will talk for hours at me about her own, or her family drama, or whatever else is going on with her life. But whenever I talk about something to do with me or my course, her eyes glaze over and she either doesn’t respond or changes the topic.
The same goes for texting. I texted her something kind of sentimental and she just ignored it and changed the topic. I want to be friends with this girl. She’s fun, I live with her and generally like her. I’m also living with her next year so we don’t have to move house. I have other friends so I’m not worried on that front. But I don’t want things to be awkward. But I’ve ended up distancing myself a bit.
I want to just tell her the truth bluntly that I’m distancing myself because she doesn’t listen to me. But I don’t know how she would take that. Or even just ignore it. And I live with her, I don’t want things to be seriously awkward.
How can I navigate this other than don’t be friends or move out!

Hi everyone. I’ve been with my bf since 2021 so almost 3 years. I’m 22 and he’s 23. I love him. He is a really great person and treats me so well, but lately I just don’t feel sexually attracted to him as whatsoever. In fact, I find myself looking at other men and not wanting to have sex or when we do not enjoying it and he can tell. I don’t know if this is just a weird phase I am going through and if I should wait and see if the attraction returns or if this is a sign that I should end the relationship. I really don’t want to break up with him, I don’t think I will find another guy who is as caring and kind as he is so it would be a great loss if I did. Another thing I should mention is he’s been very open about dealing with porn issues since the begining of our relationship and he’s always been more submissive, my ex was more dominant. During this relationship I’ve been basically the dominant one which isn’t really great and Ive had talks with him about exploring him being more masculine or dominant in the bedroom because that’s what turns me on ultimately but he says in order to get there he needs ME to be dominant to him. We’ve had MANY arguments about this topic and about his being porn free, which he says he’s stopped (for almost a year now). I don’t know if this is why I’m feeling the way I am but I know it’s always been a concern of mine but i’ve concealed it because everything about him is great, my family loves him, he loves me and treats me great! (I’ve been feeling like we’re incompatible for a while now too but keep pushing it away..)However this is such hard a dilemma and is becoming an emotional burden to me. Any advice??? Help!!

Sorry for making this seem like a rant, but it's been weighing down on me for this whole year and the more I stress about it the worse my symptoms get.
The best way I can describe what I've been having is like a 24/7 brain fog that never goes away; horrible situational awareness and problem solving.
I’m always unaware of what’s happening around me and can’t think straight. I forget things that happened moments ago and get distracted from what I'm doing quite easily, and I can only even focus on one thing at a time and my brain just can't ever multitask.
My A-levels start this week and my memory is letting me down. I find myself forgetting concepts even if I just looked at them the day before. My general awareness of an exam question as a whole is bad and I can't think about it in it's entirety, it's like I get tunnel vision onto one particular thing and can't think about the wider picture. I end up forgetting entire topics existed because of my memory and lack of awareness too, and it just gets worse the more I think about it.
When someone is talking to me I have a hard time picturing what they're saying or understanding it too, such as when I ask my teachers for guidance to a question or to explain a concept. I also have a hard time understanding things as a whole anymore.
I don't feel like these things were present before my A-levels began around Sept 2022.
I also get dizzy when I do any sudden movements like spinning around or swaying my head, but I guess that's something separate.
All this has been going on for over a year now, since about Jan 2023 (that's the time I noticed it at least).
I’ve been stressing that it’s a brain tumour or something serious. I don't get headaches nor do I vomit or any of the main symptoms, but I've seen that it's possible not to get headaches and still have a tumour. I went to a doctor around feb 2023 and the doctor didn't think I had a tumour since my balance wasn't off and my peripheral eyesight was fine. I had blood tests in feb and another in april but everything was good. I do want to go again since it's been a year, but how do I explain the fact that i'm simply unaware of any situation and get taken seriously?
Could all this be caused by something like a tumour in my brain, and what if it's too late now that I've spent over a year living with this?
I'm 18 years old, male, 5'7, about 64kg, white, no medications, and I live in the UK. If anyone can give me advice on what to do that would be great as it's been driving me crazy.

'Throws brick through window' hay it's me again look what I did
It was a rare occasion when the lovers of the demigod Primarchs gathered in a single area. The only rarer sight would have been the Primarchs themselves, but beggars can't be choosers. The lovers talked, ate, and mingled, forming their own cliques with separate conversations. Notable groups included Rose, Centurion, and whirlwind discussing events related to the Great Crusade; Dove and Muse talking about their lover's fashion sense; Black Bird and Morgenster lamenting how they wished their lovers would get along like they did; and Detective flitting between conversations, taking notes for some reason.
One conversation stood out and became the topic of all: who was the strongest among the Primarchs? Everyone had their own opinions, biases, and two cents to throw in about who could beat whom, who had the most skill, and what weapons they wielded. Then it boiled down to a more specific debate: who were the top five?
Freya's Slayer grinned toothily and spoke up. "Pariah! Out of all of us, you have the most skill when it comes to fighting. Most of us were part of the Imperial Guard or Navy before we met our Primarchs. What's your take on the matter?"
Morgenster, his face resting on his hand and his special helmet slightly off, revealing one eye and part of his face, responded thoughtfully. "I'd say my top five are Vulkan, the Lioness, Manus, Sanguinius, and for the last, it's a tie between Corax and Curze."
All of them stood around contemplating his answer, while Whym-Heart had a smug grin. Others, like Flower and Consort, frowned in disagreement.
Slayer decided to challenge Morgenster. "I can understand some of your choices, but why Curze and Corax? No offense to them, but their whole strategy is about shadows. Others like Angron, Mortarion, and even my Freya are exceptional warriors. What makes you think they’re better?"
"Angron doesn't wield her weapons; she only uses them. There's no difference to her between a weapon handcrafted by the Emperor or a stick with a rock at the end if it. If does the job That's enough. The nails in her head give her great battle lust, but a skilled or crafty opponent can easily take advantage of this. Mortarion is durable and strong, but she is slow. Take the Khan, for example. Her speed is her main strength, and I have no doubt someone like her can defeat Mortarion. For every single slice with her scythe, Khan can land twenty strikes. As for Russ, she’s too proud and arrogant. She is skilled, but unlike the Lioness, she gets distracted and prideful. Someone who fights dirty could easily exploit this."
Many nodded in agreement, especially those whose lovers were complimented, while others slowly nodded despite feeling slightly offended. Until Consort spoke up boastfully.
"Well, what about my Red? She's a powerful psyker, and I've seen her flatten whole armies with a single thought. I doubt a little stealth can counter her."
Morgenster didn't respond. He simply put on his helmet, and not three seconds later, Consort doubled over, clutching their stomach. Some laughed, others snickered, while a few showed genuine concern. That ended the conversation, with some agreeing while others drew their own conclusions.
A new debate began: who was the best in bed. Little Light boastfully and cheekfully claimed theirs was number one, leading to more arguments. Morgenster and Black Bird got up and went for a walk, knowing they'd get nothing out of the argument. As they walked and talked, they noticed two tall figures emerging from the shadows—it was their lovers. They said their goodbyes and waved.
"How much did you hear?"
"Enough." In an instant, she picked him up bridal style but still held a downturned expression.
"You're not mad, are you?"
"Depends on what you do next. I expect a big blanket and two cups of hot chocolate—both for me! What you do otherwise doesn't matter."
He grinned under his helmet. They were still working on the dynamics of their relationship, but these moments, these precious moments, were more than he could ever ask for. He took off his helmet, lifted himself a bit, and snuggled into her arm, with her returning the favor, making his grin even bigger.

Hello everyone, first of all I would like to apologize for the errors, English is not my first language and I am using a translator to help me.
I (21 female) remember practically nothing from my childhood. I sometimes have vague memories of short situations at an early age but really the clearest memory I have is from high school (14 years old), I would like to give a little context beforehand. I am an affair baby, my dad met my mom when she was around her 20's and my dad about 35, my dad told my mom that he was divorcing his wife because of a cheating of her side and he was depressed about that and my mom believed him, she got pregnant with me and when that happened, he confessed to her that he would not divorce his wife but that he would help her with the pregnancy and he even had the nerve to introduce his wife and my mother, this caused a lot of emotional conflict for my mother but she needed my dad's support so she preferred not to cause problems and simply accept everything that was happening.
When I was born, my dad was only present a couple of days a week and little by little it decreased, I don't remember, but my mom says that I was a super happy and well-behaved girl but suddenly, at around 5 or 6 years old I simply became serious and short-tempered. She told me that I loved my dad with all my heart and that I couldn't stop crying when my dad canceled our plans for his job or his "real" family, but since I became more serious I simply did my best not to see him.
That's what I remember too, for all I know, I hate him, I hate him for all the pain he brought my mom and how he abandoned me.
Returning to the present, I am asexual, I despise all sexual contexts, I hate being touched and I have panic attacks every time I am exposed to something sexual, I attributed it to a constant nightmare I have where I am a little girl and a man abuses me repeatedly, I never get to see his face, but I hear his echoing voice telling me disgusting things, I thought I was going crazy and didn't pay much attention to it, but I recently had an appointment with a psychologist (for reasons that have nothing to do with the main topic) who told me that it is possible that my brain has blocked certain memories to protect me and that that is why I do not remember much of my life, that is when I began to wonder if it is possible that I have suffered abuse...
And if I did, from who? The only man that was near me was my dad, I started trying to investigate more and that's when my mom told me about my abrupt change in personality and that hatred for my dad. I hate his smell, I hate his voice, every time my family tries to get me to see him I start to feel very scared and panic, I can't get close to him without collapsing but that doesn't stops him from getting closer to me and from trying to get me to his house for a "daddy-daughter bonding time"
There is a memory that I cannot get completely, it was from when I was approximately 8 years old, he took me to his house (as he normally did if he wanted to spend time with me, my mother didn't went with me) And he hugged me a little too tightly, he said something that I can't repeat because it would expose my identity in case someone who knows me hears this, But it made me so angry that I took some scissors that I had in my backpack and tried to attack his neck while I cried and yelled at him to shut up. I don't remember anything before or after that specific scene, I just remember that I simply avoided being alone with him at all costs.
A few nights ago I had that nightmare again and when I saw that man's figure, I realized that he is very similar to my dad's. I feel like I'm going crazy. Is it possible that I'm making all this up? I have no way of verifying it since only he would know the truth, no one would believe me. I am so afraid of my dad, I no longer want to continue having these panic attacks and these vivid nightmares, I have even considered ending my life but I really don't want to leave my mom alone, I am all that she have.
A part of me wants this all to be a simple lie that I created to get attention or something, I don't know what to do, is it possible that I was raped by my dad?
As an extra fact, my dad is known for dating minors but no one does anything because he is very influential in his community so... I don't think he's incapable of doing something like that to his own family.
Thanks to whoever stayed to read, I'm sorry for the errors and the long text, I needed to vent because I feel like I'll die if I don't talk to someone
I hope everybody have a wonderful day <3