Hello all, I'm a 24 years old biologically female, 163 cm (5'4) and weigh 64 kg (141 lbs) right now.
I've started trying to lose weight last November at a starting weight of 66,6 kg (147 lbs) and had my BMR calculated at a doctor's office (they calculated it as being 1288 calories). Based on this number, I calculated my TDEE at the time as being 1545, so I started eating at 1250 calories a day, since a 300 calorie deficit seemed reasonable to me. I ate like this for the entirety of three months, and I lost 1.2 kg (2.6 lbs) in the process. Frankly, I didn't understand why that was the case.
After reading a lot of material online, I was under the impression that the weight loss was supposed to be faster than that (most guides claim that a healthy and sustainable weight loss rate is around 1-2 lbs or 0.5-1 kg per week) and that you should reduce your calorie intake some more if it went this slowly. So I took 200 calories more off, ate at 1050 calories a day and kept this up till the end of February, by which the scale had crawled down to 65.1 kg, so a loss of 300 g (not even 1 lbs), which might not even have been weight loss per se, but body fluctuations.
I was growing frustrated at this point to be honest, other people I know who had gone through their weight loss journey told me they had a much easier time, and I didn't understand why I'm struggling like this (still don't). I was hesitant to do this, but everything I read once again said, if your weight loss is this slow, the deficit isn't big enough, so I took another 200 off and am now eating 800 calories a day, starting with this on February 27th. This finally started working, and I steadily lost 2 kg (down to 63.1 kg/139 lbs) over the span of 2.5 weeks, but last week, I, for some reason, started getting heavier again. I was under the impression, that even accounting for body fluctuations, the trend was supposed to be downwards, and not go up for almost an entire kg (2 lbs).
Has this happened to anyone else? I'm very hesitant to eat in a larger deficit than this, and I'm also very sure I'm tracking all my calories correctly (I track every single gram in myfitnesspal, weigh everything I eat, don't use oil, spices or salt for cooking, drink only water and don't eat snacks, carbs like bread, rice, potatoes, noodles etc. or sugars like fruits and refined sugars).
Any advice would be welcome, I just don't understand what else I'm supposed to change to finally get to a steady weight loss rate.

This post that I made is just for fun and expressing ideas that I thought after playing the demo of OT2 (meaning I'm still looking forward on playing the full so no spoilers pls). There's a previous post about fan ideas of new octopath traveler entries however I cannot find it anymore so I chose to create my own instead. There's a very huge chance that this idea will not be thought of by the devs so it's wise to not take this seriously. You guys are free to offer any ideas.
The Setting
I never thought what I should name the world so you can bring up which one, but the era that takes place is almost similar to the present day, with the only difference is that their world is more diversed with different species such as (these can count) elves, orcs, beastmen (although the devs can continue the beastling name), or any other creature you can think of, with technology being more advanced because of the combined use of magic and technology. The leadership in these countries would be similar to ours, though there are some kingdoms that still exist. Gods are still involved in the plot but there are ancient relics, stories from the past that connect through the final chapter and even ancient people from the past living in secrecy that might contribute to the lore. Her are some stories that I imagined.
The Characters
The warrior's story revolves around a female soldier who is on the run after accidentally getting entangled in a government conspiracy by a villainous noble and an army general. Because of this, she also has to butt heads with her childhood friend who is the leader of her unit.
The dancer's story involves a father who's about to die from an incurable illness and travels alongside his son (who would later succeed his father after his passing in the climax of their chapter) to play the songs the songs they composed, while having to confront a bounty hunter who's after them because of their huge bounty after the story reveals in their first chapter that they are one of the few remaining descendants of the ancient people because of their singing voice.
The merchant's story revolves around a kind-hearted woman forced to work with the mafia because of the debt her parents left before dying, resulting in her having to sell drugs and risk her life being a conman. That is, until one day she is told to sell a new drug to a certain client and which can sell for a very, very high price. She immediately accepted it since the money will it will now be enough to pay her debt. Unfortunately, this drug can turn any living specimen evolve into savage beasts. After finding out about the consequences she has unwittingly caused because she let her thoughts cloud her about the debt, she chose to find the cause of this mysterious drug and to stop its productions.
The scholar's story revolves a young female newbie professor who has a genuine obsession in magitek goes to an investigation regarding about terrorists using ancient weapons that were excavated that are nothing compared to the weapons they have today; these ancient weaponry are much more dangerous and one of the main reasons why the former ruler of that country banned such tech a long time ago.
The thief's story revolves around a young male assassin who deserted his own clan by using his near death experience from one of his traitorous friend as a cover for living a peaceful life in a secluded town. Until a month later where his cover was blown and he is forced to team up with the kingdom his clan told him to fight against i.e. teaming up with the king's daughter in stopping the clan he once worked with and a enemy behind the shadows. This story would also have magic exclusive to each clan, including to the story's protagonist where the story would reveal a screwed up family tree relating to the prtagonist.
Ok there are other stories I haven't thought of yet so this is as far as I can go.
The gameplay
There are additions that I want for the devs to add about the combat. Of course I have no complaints about it it's still a fun mechanic to strategize on fighting enemies; but there's no problem on making it better, right?
In CotC, the party has a space of 8 slots in order to compensate for the large amount of playable characters. Now this is where I'm thinking you can recruit other characters as in not just some npc you can use guide, allure, hired help or etc. I'm talking about full-on permanent recruitable characters just like in CotC (although for CotC that's because it's a gacha game). The setup will be 4 main party members on the front while the recruitables (yes, I'm calling them recruitables I couldn't think of a better name) are behind them. However, this won't stop party members with guide or allure to recruit npcs throughout the game. There will be sidequests on recruiting them but there are others that you automatically get through story progression, we could even get a playable cait. Crossed paths would also apply to these characters. Who knows, we might get to see cameo characters from previous team Asano games as playable characters or secret bosses.
Alright, I'm finished on saying everything I want to say, now what are your opinions

So there’s a LOT of unique factors to explain this dumbass drama.
So I, f,22, used to work and get employee housing. So was working and living with the same people 9 months straight. Ton of fun, not as drama as to be suspected but now things have unfolded in an odd way.
So I moved away from that town three hours away to a city where a girl, Natalie, f,24, is from. It’s a popular city in the US. Natalie and I were working together in that town and we grew close and when we both left the work we hungout while both being in this town. We got closer then we already were.
Natalie decided to move back to the town and place we used to work and I stayed in the city. I’m planning on going to work over my spring break back in that town and then I’m gonna go back there and work for the summer.
I have a good friend Gina f,22, who informed me that Natalie told our friend Linda , who works there everyone I’m talking about lives in this housing, that I wanted to hook up with her ex boyfriend, Todd .
Yes I had wanted to hook up with Todd l however had not a clue him and Linda were dating I thought it was casual. And a big thing living in this housing is that some people understand that shit happens because the circle is so small and in the middle of nowhere where we all end up hooking up with each other. Some understand that some do not either way what I said about Todd I was never thinking of acting on it as they were doing stuff together at the time and I never want to overlay that kind of stuff cause that’s wrong.
It was just the kind of shit you say to your good friends thinking it wouldn’t be repeated! And I’m pissed tf off bc Natalie has told me many fucked up things that she’s said please don’t repeat this and I haven’t! She gained nothing by telling Linda I wanted to hookup with Todd then hurt her feelings. And Linda’s too nice to be like what do you gain by telling me this?
And god this is so high school and Natalie has been involved in other drama and I’m realizing she’s a repeat offender and the common denominator in a lot of these issues involving drama at this job. The thing is I can’t explain to Natalie why this makes me upset because Natalie told Linda not to tell anyone what I said. but Linda was more upset then natalie realized and told Gina and Linda knows Gina and I are close so even though she told Gina not to tell me that Natalie told her what I said she told me because she knew Natalie and I got close out here and Gina is just my best friend so naturally shed be like yo your homegirl isnt being cool with you.
How the fuck do I approach this i go to this town Friday and I’m not excited to see natalie at all but i have to act like that but I can’t be fake for shit.

I hope this is related enough to Emergency Medicine to be appropriate here, but mods feel free to remove if not appropriate.
My spouse is an EM doc and I'm hoping to get some perspective on what healthy boundaries are for talking about work life with your spouse. For some background-- we're mid 30s and have been together since M1. I'm not ignorant of what the life of an MD is, what residency is like, what being an EM doc during COVID was like, etc. I've been there every step of the way. We've both dealt with some emotionally difficult things in recent years and at times it has really strained our relationship.
We've had periods in the past (especially during residency) where I think my wife expected me to be ok with being an emotional waste dump from what happens at the hospital. And I'm really not ok with that. It's extremely important to think about and process those things, but I don't think we've ever struck a healthy balance where she has talked about it in a healthy way with me and I have the emotional bandwidth to be helpful.
Still, she came home from a shift last week and sort of just tells me a story over dinner "I had a really hard case the other day. A guy in his 40s came in with back pain and <>. Eventually we did a CT and figured out he probably has terminal lung cancer."
Like I'm a person in my mid 30s that has lost people close to me to lung cancer in the last few years. I understand that it was a difficult and sad case, and I legitimately don't want to be unsupportive or callous to that fact. But I have absolutely zero interest whatsoever in hearing this, and you telling it to me isn't doing me any favors. Why do you think this is even remotely close to something I want to talk about after you just got home from being at the hospital all day?
Is this something that all EM couples encounter? Is this a sign that I need to reinforce my own boundaries a little bit better? Am I a callous jerk and don't realize it?
Hoping to get some ideas on how you all process this stuff over the long haul and how it gets talked about in your relationship. TYIA!

Olette: Nice work everyone. Added to what we started with, we now have…three pennies and a ladybug.
Hayner: You’ve got to be kidding me. To make matters worse, the ladybug took two of the pennies and flew off. Everyone could’ve sworn they heard a tiny voice laughing mischievously.
Olette:…Ok, make that one penny.
Roxas was swinging a stick and threw it. It hit a hooded individual.
Roxas: Oh sorry. The figure started sobbing.
?: You are a meanie! (Runs off to the Sandlot crying.)
Roxas and the others were looking at photos that were recovered by a thief. Pence: It’s a GIRL! Olette: You look happy. Roxas took the picture, crumbled it up and ate it. Hayner: What?! Roxas ran off. Everyone looked at each other in confusion.
Xemnas was asking Roxas something. Xemnas: Roxas, you must fix my computer. Roxas: What about Vexen? Xemnas: He is on a mission. Ten minutes later, a furious Xigbar dragged a dusty Roxas back to Xemnas. Xemnas: What did you do?! Roxas: You know how the computer works on electricity? Well…I used a thunder spell and it blew up. Everyone throughout the castle heard Xemnas yell Roxas’s name at the top of his lungs.
It was Halloween and Xion had something important to say… Xion: Roxas…I have a crush on you. I always had and- Roxas: I’m Ven. We dressed up as each other. Xion: Aw man. Ventus: By the way, he’s behind you. Roxas WAS behind her. He fainted out of shock.
Riku: Take care of her. Sora: I’m not losing you again! Sora jumped through the door as it closed. Sora: Yes! I found you. Riku: Good, now find Donald and Goofy. Sora soon realized his mistake. Meanwhile… Donald: Did Sora just… Goofy: Yep.
Riku: Take care of-OW! The Door to Darkness jammed his foot.
Halloween again. Aqua was giving Ventus another Wayfinder. Aqua: I’m so happy we’re together again. Ven: Aqua… Aqua left to give Terra his Wayfinder. Roxas decided to give the Wayfinder to Ventus. Poor Roxas regretted switching his and Ven’s clothes for Halloween.
Roxas and Axel were on top of the tower reminiscing about Roxas’s first day. Roxas: I acted like a zombie. Axel: Right, that first week, you could barely form a sentence. But come on- Axel patted him on the shoulder but Roxas fell all the way down. Axel:…Whoops.
Roxas: Axel, I think Xion is mad at me for some reason. Axel: Well maybe you pushed her buttons. Roxas didn’t remember playing on her Xbox but he has been known to play video games in his sleep. The next day Axel saw his two friends arguing. Xion: You sleep played with my Xbox?! Roxas: I can’t help it! Maybe Axel should’ve been more specific.
Xemnes: I have the power over nothing…I said nothing…What? That’s odd…Oh well, everyone introduce your powers. Xigbar: I have the power over space. Xaldin: Wind. (Whoosh) Vexen: Ice…No, I’m not Elsa’s Nobody. Lexaus:…Earth… Zexion: Illusion! In fact, I’m not even here. (Fades away.) Saix: Moon. Roxas: Like Sailor Moon? Saix: No. Axel: Fire. Demryx: Water, which is convenient since I am too lazy to buy a water cup. Luxord: Time. Marluxia: Flowers…Yes, flowers. Larxene: Lightning. Roxas: And finally I’m light. Xion: Me too!
Larxene: I’m supposed to teach you magic but I don’t want to. Go to Hogwarts. See you in seven years. (7 Hours Later.) Roxas: I graduated.
Xion: I can’t use the Keyblade! Roxas: Oh no! (Next Day) Xion: I can use the Keyblade. Roxas: Well that’s fast. 14. Sora was bribing Aladdin. Aladdin: Fine. Genie, I wish Sora had a genie with unlimited wishes. 15. Ventus was looking around Dwarf Woodlands when he saw an old lady. Ventus: Have you seen a guy named Terra? Lady: No, but can you give this apple to Snow White? Ven: Sure. He found Snow White and gave her the apple. As soon as he left, she plopped to the ground.
Roxas: Who else will I have Ice Cream with? Xion suddenly stopped fading. Xion: Axel, Saix, their somebodies, those three kids you see around Twilight Town? Oh, and me.
Lexaus was in his room. Lexaus When you walk away You don't hear me say please Oh baby, don't go Simple and clean is- Roxas was right behind him with a camera. He ran off as soon as Lexaus saw him. Later… Lexaus: Where’s Roxas?! Xion: I don’t know? Don’t you? You are Simple and Clean. That’s why Aeleus doesn’t like Roxas.
Vanitas: Prepare to die Ventus! Ven: Can I take a break? Ven started break dancing much to the confusion of Vanitas who just stood there. Meanwhile, Aqua was baton twirling her Keyblade. Braig: Are we gonna fight or what? And as for Xehanort he was asleep while waiting for Terra to finish his 7000 push-ups.
Terra was reading when he heard Ven scream at the top of his lungs. He ran up to Ven’s room and saw a Shadow. Terra: Daaaaaaw… Ven: It’s a Heartless! Terra: It’s so cute! Terra went over to pet the Shadow before it pounced on him. Terra: Not Cute! Not Cute! Not Cute!
Eugene was dying. Rapunzel was trying to bring him back. Eugene: Hey, Rapunzel… Rapunzel: What? Eugene: You were my new dream. Rapunzel: And you were mine. Then Eugene felt something. Eugene: I’m ok! Sora: Well duh, I just used Curaga.
Aqua saw Sora and Riku and jumped off the bridge which sprained her ankle. Aqua: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!! WHY DID I DO THAT?! OOOOOWWWWW! Sora: Should we get help? Aqua: No, C-Cuuuuuuraaaaaaaaga! Unfortunately, saying the spell that way made her leg go backwards. All three of them screamed at it.
Eraqus was giving his students their Keyblade Armours. Terra: Why do they look like rejected Power Ranger outfits? Eraqus: Well I always wanted a Power Ranger Team.
Aqua kissed a sleeping Ven and he woke up. Aqua: My kiss worked. Ven: What? Did you just-? Ven ran away screaming. Ven: COOOOOOOTIIIIIEEEESS!!!!!! Terra and Eraqus saw him ran past them. Terra: Hey look, Ven’s awake. Eraqus: Must be the power of cooties.
Sora won the Phill Cup in Olympus Coliseum and everyone cheered…and by that I mean disembodied voices. Sora: Where’s this cheering coming from? Hercules: Them. Sora immediately left.
Aqua caught Ven who was dropped off a cliff by Xehanort. Aqua: Ven, are you ok? Ven: I’m a human popsicle and I hit some rocks during my fall! What do you think?!
Aqua: Oh, I guess not.

Let me preface this by saying English isn't my first (or 2nd) language. I'm trying to wrap my head around this term. Why is it dad jokes?
Should have said "so gendered" in the title

previous chapter / contents / patreon
I waited for something to happen. My knees bent and my eyes gazed across the dunes waiting to run. But beyond the sound of the swaying bell and the water trickling out to sea, everything was still.
“You know what’s happening?” I called out to Alessia, still monitoring the tops of the dunes.
Alessia paused, then huffed. “No. I see nothing.” I heard her take a few steps through the sand towards me. “That bell does nothing.”
I walked towards the guard, shouting so I’d be heard over the metal clanging next to his ear. “What’s happening? What’s the bell for?”
“All visitors must report to the council headquarters. You can find the council headquarters on the western side of the island.”
I let out a hot breath of anger and turned away. “We can sit here all day listening to the ringing or go somewhere else.”
Alessia cocked her head. “Maybe we should go find this council office. He seems keen on us going there.”
I rolled my eyes and began trudging back up the dune away from the small river and the alluring artefact behind us. I leaned my head down, concentrating on each step, watching my feet sink into the soft sand on every step, grains tumbling down the slope in my wake. Half-way through the grind, I glanced forward to see a man silhouetted in the bright light of the sun.
I squinted until I could make out the details. His face was lined with thick wrinkles, and he had a mop of loose grey curls that fell to the base of his neck. A loose beige shirt with sleeves too long for his arms hung loosely across his thin frame.
Stretching out a hand, I tapped Alessia on the shoulder. She stopped and looked up. “Can we help you?”
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present,” the man replied in a firm but croaky voice.
“Two representatives?” I looked between the man and the guard at the bottom of the dune. “It looks like we have that.” I pointed between them.
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
My eyes sealed shut with frustration. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”
He was silent for a second. Then, “You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
“No. Sorry.” I leaned over and placed a hand on Alessia’s arm pulling her forward. “Done with this.” I turned slightly away from the man, cutting a path past him to the left.
He responded, pacing along the top of the dune to intercept us. He held out his arms so that the sleeves of his baggy shirt draped like a cloak “You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
I tensed my cheeks, ensuring they only opened so far as to not scream. “If it’s fine with you, we’re going to find someone who can actually speak.” I tried to walk around him, but he sidestepped to cut me off.
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.” He glanced over our shoulders and nodded.
Turning, I could see a woman on the other side of the dune. She was younger, with short, clipped strawberry-blonde hair.
“Is she another representative? Can we talk now?”
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
I raised my arms in protest. “There’s three of you now,” I shouted.
The man turned to his left and called out as loudly as his elderly lungs could. “Yamil, hurry up if you can. They’re getting restless.”
My eyes bulged. “So you can talk.”
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
My arms tensed and my hands wrung with anger as the man stood his ground in front of us.
“Just wait,” Alessia sighed, her shoulders slumped. “See what happens.”
We watched the woman descend the dunes, cross the stream, and then slowly climb the other side towards us. It was a long, awkward wait, watching her trudge through soft sands, the three of us standing in silence.
Finally, she got close enough for the man to exhale and his body relax. “Thank you for waiting. We need both members present to hold a conversation.”
“Why-“ I cut myself off. “Wait. There’s a body. A body down there. In the sand-“
“We know,” said the man in a calm but resigned tone.
“Who is it?” Alessia asked..
“The former guard,” the woman, Yamil, said as she arrived. “Few months ago a man arrived on the island and shot him. He wanted to get to the ship.”
I raised my eyebrows and looked to Alessia. “Sannaz?”
She nodded, turning to face the ship and the current guard, now returned to their relaxed position. “He’s been dead for months? Why didn’t you move him?”
“We couldn’t agree on what to do with him,” the man nodded calmly.
“Bury them? Cremate them?” I blinked rapidly. “Something?”
“The Council considered all those options.” The man gave the same accompanying nod. “But we couldn’t come to an agreement.”
“The Council?”
“There are ten villages on the island,” Yamil said, folding her arms. “Each one sends one person to the council.”
“And the council couldn’t decide on what to do with a dead body? So you just…” I looked back down at the patch of sand - too far away to make out the hand in any detail, but I was certain I could see the point where the bone poked through the surface. “…left him?”
“We took a vote.” The man turned to Yamil, checking for her confirmation. “Eight for burial, one for cremation, one for placing them in plain sight as a warning. That right?”
“Yes, Fidel.” Yamil replied.
My eyes narrowed, the brows meeting at the bridge of my nose. “Why didn’t you go with the vote?”
“We didn’t agree.” Fidel responded with equal confusion.
Yamil stepped in. “If we don’t all agree, then we don’t go ahead. Everyone has to agree.” Her face flinched slightly as she spoke.
“It’s the only way to stop the majority taking advantage of everyone. If we all have to agree then one-half can’t take advantage of the other half.” Fidel puffed his chest, recalling an old mantra.
I could feel a familiar heat in my veins, and I tried to temper it as I spoke. “You get together. You discuss something. And if any one of you disagrees, you do nothing.”
“Correct.” The nod seemed more enthusiastic.
“And you couldn’t tell us that till now because…?”
Yamil responded in a dour monotone. “Regular citizens aren’t allowed to speak to people from outside the island. They could do things or say things that would be only in their own interests.”
“What’s good for one person - what might even be good for the majority - can still harm some,” Fidel preached. “We must protect those who otherwise would have no voice. Here, everyone has a voice. Everyone is protected.”
I thought of the bones poking through the sand, but I said nothing.
Alessia let out a quiet, almost inaudible grumble. “So how come you can speak to us? Where’s the rest of the council?”
“We understand that at some point someone has to speak to outsiders,” Fidel said gruffly. “As long as two council members were present to witness, we could provide outsiders with information.”
I pushed the oddities from my mind, trying to refocus. “Does that mean you can give us access to the ship?”
Yamil shook her head. “That would require a council vote.”
“And agreement from all ten of them?” Alessia added.
Yamil nodded.
Alessia sucked air between her teeth. “We’re trying to track down the man who killed that guard. Your guard. Your own citizen. We’ll take nothing, cause no damage. We’re just trying to stop-”
“You’ll need council approval,” Fidel interrupted.
“How do we get that?”
Yamil looked to Fidel and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll get word out to the eastern side if you send people to the north. Get them together tomorrow night?”
Fidel bowed his head. “Agreed.”
“Tomorrow?” The words left my mouth tasting of relief.
“Around sunset.” Yamil smiled. “Put your case to the council. If all ten approve, then you can go ahead.”
“And if one says no?” Alessia asked, pulling back one side of her mouth.
Yamil let out a small chuckle. “Then bad luck.”
——————————————————————————
We returned to the boat and waited. We watched as the sun pushed across the sky, fell, and rose again. All the while, in the distance, that vessel loomed over us, calling me like a beacon.
Some connection to Sannaz was right there. Though, I also knew that something else pulled me towards that boat. The connection to the old world.
I spent the day staring at the ancient boat the way a child might study a present, trying to figure out its contents and its purpose from the outside, knowing I would always have to wait till it was unwrapped.
As evening came we trekked across the island to our appointment. The headquarters looked like a large barn: two storeys tall, and no longer than the length of Alessia’s boat. There were no signs outside, no lavish windows, no murals. Just two large wooden doors the same colour as the walls.
The inside was the same four wooden walls surrounding a stone floor. Looking up, I could see the evening sky through thin cracks in the woods. Near the far end, a couple of planks had half-rotted away, their ends broken off. Thin strands of wood dangled above the floor revealing a perfect window to the arriving starscape. Below the spot, there was a darkened patch of the stone where a decade of rain water had left a permanent stain.
“Welcome,” said Fidel, noticing us enter. “Please, have a seat.” He pointed to a patch of dusty stone floor to his left.
The rest of the council sat in a circle. There were no seats. Some sat on the floor, one or two had brought cushions with them, another sat on an upturned log.
As we joined, Fidel began the meeting. “All ten council members are here. Yotese Over Haven was founded on the principle that all islanders from all ten villages are equal in power. No one should be compelled to go along with anything they do not approve of. We move as one or not at all.” He lowered his head and looked around the circle. “As per the guidelines we’ll open the floor for discussion topics before we move to dignitary business. Are there any proposals?”
One woman raised her hand slowly. “I’d like to propose sending a group to look into trading with Eglowe Needles. They may be in need of timber and we have plenty.”
“You do,” I heard Yamil mutter under her breath. The room ignored her.
“Very well,” Fidel replied. “Those in favor of debating this topic raise your hand.” Seven hands went up. Three stayed down.
“No consensus,” Fidel announced. “Next.”
Yamil raised an arm like a bolt. “I’d like to rediscuss repairs to the southern village.”
A few of the circle sighed. One man groaned.
“Those in favor of debating this topic raise your hand.”
Eight went up.
“No consensus.”
Yamil’s hand immediately raised again. “In that case I’d like to rediscuss the replacement of livestock in the Southern village.” The words were fast, repeated to instinct.
“Again?” one man moaned.
Yamil’s eyes bulged in his direction, reaching out to attack. “Yes. And I’ll keep proposing it until we discuss it.”
Fidel held up a palm to try and calm the mood. “Those in favor of debating this topic raise your hand.”
Eight hands raised. Yamil stared at the detractors, her head shaking from side to side, biting her lip.
“No consensus. Any other proposals?”
The room went quiet, stewing in the uneasy and dusty air.
Fidel seemed to count in his head until enough time had passed. “Very well. As was agreed by this council thirty-three years ago, dignitaries of foreign nations do not need to propose a topic and can present to the council. Therefore, I would like to ask our guests to speak.”
I stood up, unsure of the correct protocol, and nodded to the council members. Then, piece by piece, I laid out our story. We believed the ship would help us find a dangerous man, a man who had already attacked three islands and could hurt many more, a man who had already murdered one of their own. I tried to keep my voice passive, keep my own losses - Lachlann, Thomas - out of the story. Keep to what was pertinent to the room, not to me.
Fidel nodded and took a deep breath. “Those who wish to open the floor to questions, raise your hands.”
A smattering of hands raised. Maybe half. Too few.
“No consensus. Then we move to the vote. Those in favor of granting access to the ship raise your hand.”
I watched as hands raised. Yamil gave a limp raise of her arm quickly. Fidel followed slowly, but with a straight elbow. One by one I could see the machinations of those on the fence eventually lift their hand to the sky. Then I looked to the woman to my left. Her head was lowered, her hands in her lap. She didn’t move.
Then across the circle I saw Yamil lower her hand. “I withdraw my vote,” she said.
“What?” I called out. “You invited us here.”
“I’m going to ask you to remain silent during voting.” Fidel spoke calmly, looking round the circle. “Eight for. Two against. No consensus.”
“We need to get in there,” I interrupted. “People’s lives could be in danger.”
“The matter has been discussed,” Fidel waved his arm dismissively. He returned to a more formal voice. “The meeting is adjourned. Thank you for coming everyone.”
“No. Please. Vote again.”
“We voted. There was no consensus.”
“Eight of you said we could go. Yamil was fine too to start with, that’s nine.”
“There was no consensus.” Fidel repeated slowly, as though I had merely not understood.
“Can’t you use some common sense? At least give us an explanation.” I could feel Aslessia place a hand on my arm, pulling me away. I shirked it off.
“There was no consensus.”
I walked towards Fidel, getting in his eyeline. “What now then? What are we supposed to do?”
“Now?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You leave.”
The Archipelago is posted every Wednesday
previous chapter / contents / patreon

I waited for something to happen. My knees bent and my eyes gazed across the dunes waiting to run. But beyond the sound of the swaying bell and the water trickling out to sea, everything was still.
“You know what’s happening?” I called out to Alessia, still monitoring the tops of the dunes.
Alessia paused, then huffed. “No. I see nothing.” I heard her take a few steps through the sand towards me. “That bell does nothing.”
I walked towards the guard, shouting so I’d be heard over the metal clanging next to his ear. “What’s happening? What’s the bell for?”
“All visitors must report to the council headquarters. You can find the council headquarters on the western side of the island.”
I let out a hot breath of anger and turned away. “We can sit here all day listening to the ringing or go somewhere else.”
Alessia cocked her head. “Maybe we should go find this council office. He seems keen on us going there.”
I rolled my eyes and began trudging back up the dune away from the small river and the alluring artefact behind us. I leaned my head down, concentrating on each step, watching my feet sink into the soft sand on every step, grains tumbling down the slope in my wake. Half-way through the grind, I glanced forward to see a man silhouetted in the bright light of the sun.
I squinted until I could make out the details. His face was lined with thick wrinkles, and he had a mop of loose grey curls that fell to the base of his neck. A loose beige shirt with sleeves too long for his arms hung loosely across his thin frame.
Stretching out a hand, I tapped Alessia on the shoulder. She stopped and looked up. “Can we help you?”
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present,” the man replied in a firm but croaky voice.
“Two representatives?” I looked between the man and the guard at the bottom of the dune. “It looks like we have that.” I pointed between them.
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
My eyes sealed shut with frustration. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”
He was silent for a second. Then, “You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
“No. Sorry.” I leaned over and placed a hand on Alessia’s arm pulling her forward. “Done with this.” I turned slightly away from the man, cutting a path past him to the left.
He responded, pacing along the top of the dune to intercept us. He held out his arms so that the sleeves of his baggy shirt draped like a cloak “You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
I tensed my cheeks, ensuring they only opened so far as to not scream. “If it’s fine with you, we’re going to find someone who can actually speak.” I tried to walk around him, but he sidestepped to cut me off.
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.” He glanced over our shoulders and nodded.
Turning, I could see a woman on the other side of the dune. She was younger, with short, clipped strawberry-blonde hair.
“Is she another representative? Can we talk now?”
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
I raised my arms in protest. “There’s three of you now,” I shouted.
The man turned to his left and called out as loudly as his elderly lungs could. “Yamil, hurry up if you can. They’re getting restless.”
My eyes bulged. “So you can talk.”
“You will need to wait till two representatives are present.”
My arms tensed and my hands wrung with anger as the man stood his ground in front of us.
“Just wait,” Alessia sighed, her shoulders slumped. “See what happens.”
We watched the woman descend the dunes, cross the stream, and then slowly climb the other side towards us. It was a long, awkward wait, watching her trudge through soft sands, the three of us standing in silence.
Finally, she got close enough for the man to exhale and his body relax. “Thank you for waiting. We need both members present to hold a conversation.”
“Why-“ I cut myself off. “Wait. There’s a body. A body down there. In the sand-“
“We know,” said the man in a calm but resigned tone.
“Who is it?” Alessia asked..
“The former guard,” the woman, Yamil, said as she arrived. “Few months ago a man arrived on the island and shot him. He wanted to get to the ship.”
I raised my eyebrows and looked to Alessia. “Sannaz?”
She nodded, turning to face the ship and the current guard, now returned to their relaxed position. “He’s been dead for months? Why didn’t you move him?”
“We couldn’t agree on what to do with him,” the man nodded calmly.
“Bury them? Cremate them?” I blinked rapidly. “Something?”
“The Council considered all those options.” The man gave the same accompanying nod. “But we couldn’t come to an agreement.”
“The Council?”
“There are ten villages on the island,” Yamil said, folding her arms. “Each one sends one person to the council.”
“And the council couldn’t decide on what to do with a dead body? So you just…” I looked back down at the patch of sand - too far away to make out the hand in any detail, but I was certain I could see the point where the bone poked through the surface. “…left him?”
“We took a vote.” The man turned to Yamil, checking for her confirmation. “Eight for burial, one for cremation, one for placing them in plain sight as a warning. That right?”
“Yes, Fidel,” Yamil replied.
My eyes narrowed, the brows meeting at the bridge of my nose. “Why didn’t you go with the vote?”
“We didn’t agree,” Fidel responded with equal confusion.
Yamil stepped in. “If we don’t all agree, then we don’t go ahead. Everyone has to agree.” Her face flinched slightly as she spoke.
“It’s the only way to stop the majority taking advantage of everyone. If we all have to agree then one-half can’t take advantage of the other half.” Fidel puffed his chest, recalling an old mantra.
I could feel a familiar heat in my veins, and I tried to temper it as I spoke. “You get together. You discuss something. And if any one of you disagrees, you do nothing.”
“Correct.” The nod seemed more enthusiastic.
“And you couldn’t tell us that till now because…?”
Yamil responded in a dour monotone. “Regular citizens aren’t allowed to speak to people from outside the island. They could do things or say things that would be only in their own interests.”
“What’s good for one person - what might even be good for the majority - can still harm some,” Fidel preached. “We must protect those who otherwise would have no voice. Here, everyone has a voice. Everyone is protected.”
I thought of the bones poking through the sand, but I said nothing.
Alessia let out a quiet, almost inaudible grumble. “So how come you can speak to us? Where’s the rest of the council?”
“We understand that at some point someone has to speak to outsiders,” Fidel said gruffly. “As long as two council members were present to witness, we could provide outsiders with information.”
I pushed the oddities from my mind, trying to refocus. “Does that mean you can give us access to the ship?”
Yamil shook her head. “That would require a council vote.”
“And agreement from all ten of them?” Alessia added.
Yamil nodded.
Alessia sucked air between her teeth. “We’re trying to track down the man who killed that guard. Your guard. Your own citizen. We’ll take nothing, cause no damage. We’re just trying to stop-”
“You’ll need council approval,” Fidel interrupted.
“How do we get that?”
Yamil looked to Fidel and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll get word out to the eastern side if you send people to the north. Get them together tomorrow night?”
Fidel bowed his head. “Agreed.”
“Tomorrow?” The words left my mouth tasting of relief.
“Around sunset.” Yamil smiled. “Put your case to the council. If all ten approve, then you can go ahead.”
“And if one says no?” Alessia asked, pulling back one side of her mouth.
Yamil let out a small chuckle. “Then bad luck.”
——————————————————————————
We returned to the boat and waited. We watched as the sun pushed across the sky, fell, and rose again. All the while, in the distance, that vessel loomed over us, calling me like a beacon.
Some connection to Sannaz was right there. Though, I also knew that something else pulled me towards that boat. The connection to the old world.
I spent the day staring at the ancient boat the way a child might study a present, trying to figure out its contents and its purpose from the outside, knowing I would always have to wait till it was unwrapped.
As evening came we trekked across the island to our appointment. The headquarters looked like a large barn: two storeys tall, and no longer than the length of Alessia’s boat. There were no signs outside, no lavish windows, no murals. Just two large wooden doors the same colour as the walls.
The inside was the same four wooden walls surrounding a stone floor. Looking up, I could see the evening sky through thin cracks in the woods. Near the far end, a couple of planks had half-rotted away, their ends broken off. Thin strands of wood dangled above the floor revealing a perfect window to the arriving starscape. Below the spot, there was a darkened patch of the stone where a decade of rainwater had left a permanent stain.
“Welcome,” said Fidel, noticing us enter. “Please, have a seat.” He pointed to a patch of dusty stone floor to his left.
The rest of the council sat in a circle. There were no seats. Some sat on the floor, one or two had brought cushions with them, another sat on an upturned log.
As we joined, Fidel began the meeting. “All ten council members are here. Yotese Over Haven was founded on the principle that all islanders from all ten villages are equal in power. No one should be compelled to go along with anything they do not approve of. We move as one or not at all.” He lowered his head and looked around the circle. “As per the guidelines we’ll open the floor for discussion topics before we move to dignitary business. Are there any proposals?”
One woman raised her hand slowly. “I’d like to propose sending a group to look into trading with Eglowe Needles. They may be in need of timber and we have plenty.”
“You do,” I heard Yamil mutter under her breath. The room ignored her.
“Very well,” Fidel replied. “Those in favor of debating this topic raise your hand.” Seven hands went up. Three stayed down.
“No consensus,” Fidel announced. “Next.”
Yamil raised an arm like a bolt. “I’d like to rediscuss repairs to the southern village.”
A few of the circle sighed. One man groaned.
“Those in favor of debating this topic raise your hand.”
Eight went up.
“No consensus.”
Yamil’s hand immediately raised again. “In that case I’d like to rediscuss the replacement of livestock in the Southern village.” The words were fast, repeated to instinct.
“Again?” one man moaned.
Yamil’s eyes bulged in his direction, reaching out to attack. “Yes. And I’ll keep proposing it until we discuss it.”
Fidel held up a palm to try and calm the mood. “Those in favor of debating this topic raise your hand.”
Eight hands raised. Yamil stared at the detractors, her head shaking from side to side, biting her lip.
“No consensus. Any other proposals?”
The room went quiet, stewing in the uneasy and dusty air.
Fidel seemed to count in his head until enough time had passed. “Very well. As was agreed by this council thirty-three years ago, dignitaries of foreign nations do not need to propose a topic and can present to the council. Therefore, I would like to ask our guests to speak.”
I stood up, unsure of the correct protocol, and nodded to the council members. Then, piece by piece, I laid out our story. We believed the ship would help us find a dangerous man, a man who had already attacked three islands and could hurt many more, a man who had already murdered one of their own. I tried to keep my voice passive, keep my own losses - Lachlann, Thomas - out of the story. Keep to what was pertinent to the room, not to me.
Fidel nodded and took a deep breath. “Those who wish to open the floor to questions, raise your hands.”
A smattering of hands raised. Maybe half. Too few.
“No consensus. Then we move to the vote. Those in favor of granting access to the ship raise your hand.”
I watched as hands raised. Yamil gave a limp raise of her arm quickly. Fidel followed slowly, but with a straight elbow. One by one I could see the machinations of those on the fence eventually lift their hand to the sky. Then I looked to the woman to my left. Her head was lowered, her hands in her lap. She didn’t move.
Then across the circle I saw Yamil lower her hand. “I withdraw my vote,” she said.
“What?” I called out. “You invited us here.”
“I’m going to ask you to remain silent during voting.” Fidel spoke calmly, looking round the circle. “Eight for. Two against. No consensus.”
“We need to get in there,” I interrupted. “People’s lives could be in danger.”
“The matter has been discussed,” Fidel waved his arm dismissively. He returned to a more formal voice. “The meeting is adjourned. Thank you for coming everyone.”
“No. Please. Vote again.”
“We voted. There was no consensus.”
“Eight of you said we could go. Yamil was fine too to start with, that’s nine.”
“There was no consensus.” Fidel repeated slowly, as though I had merely not understood.
“Can’t you use some common sense? At least give us an explanation.” I could feel Aslessia place a hand on my arm, pulling me away. I shirked it off.
“There was no consensus.”
I walked towards Fidel, getting in his eyeline. “What now then? What are we supposed to do?”
“Now?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You leave.”
The Archipelago is posted every Wednesday

My fiance (M19) and I (F22) have been in our relationship for 2 years. We've been thru Hell to get where we are today and both of us have worked hard for our relationship. We have a 10 month old together and he has another child from a previous relationship which will be important later. My fiance is an amazing father. He is very attentive to our child's needs and makes sure to video call his other child any chance he gets between work and our child. I am so happy to call him our child's father. However, when it comes to things involving me and him, he tends to be harsh. I know he's under a lot of stress and that could ease be the reason for his reactions to things. Both of us work and money is a bit tight right now but we make things work. That's the biggest reason for our stress. Well needless to day our living situation also affects things. We currently live with my family which hasn't been too much to handle, though has been stressful at times. My fiance has done well working on his personal growth and has really grown mentally over the last 2 years that I don't want to make any rash decisions. When he and I get into an argument, I try to bring up how I feel, to which I'm bombarded with all the things I'm not doing or being told "how do you think I feel". And when I don't respond how he wants me to because he's not allowing me to feel heard, he thinks I don't want to listen to how he feels, which isn't true. He has opened up to me more than any other person and due to trauma is the reason he has taken so long to. He has trust issues when it come to women but has been amazing in finally opening up to me. However, it doesn't feel like I can do the same sometimes without it turning into an argument. Just the other day I mentioned that I was in the mood, he pointed out our decision to have sex that afternoon, which I still agreed to, but when I mentioned that I would handle my situation by myself really quick so I wasn't miserable, he pointed out that the last time I'd been at it for an hour and still needed his help. I personally felt disgusted with myself due to my trauma keeping me from ever doing things to myself. Until I met him and he helped me get comfortable with my body, I couldn't. Well I instantly felt disgusted with myself and instantly was turned off. I told him, whilst upset, that he didn't have to worry about having sex because I wasn't in the mood due to his comment and me feeling disgusted with myself. After I calmed down and we talked and he listened to how I felt, we ended up having sex and it was a lot of fun. But my issue is that it seems to always be some comment or harsh statement to my suggestions or feelings when I talk to him and I don't know what to do. I have also brought up that I don't like being touched when I'm upset due to my autism and me being tactile defensive. I feel like I'm smothered and like I'm being backed into a corner. He's done it multiple times even though he's promised to stop and I've even pushed him off me once or twice when he tried because I had to keep repeating get off. His intentions are never for sex, it's for hugs or kisses, but being autistic it's already hard to handle hugs from family, him, or our child when I'm not overstimulated as is. It's worse when I'm overstimulated like when I'm upset. Other examples include saying things to specifically hurt my feelings or things in a tone that makes me feel like shit even when it's not his intention but he still does it anyway. He constantly states that he does almost everything when that's not true but it's said so much I've told him he can really do everything or almost everything if he wants because it makes me feel like the things I do aren't noticed. He reminds me that's not the case but it's been stated to me that way a couple times, especially recently when the stress has been bad on both of us between work and money. That's why I feel like stress is the main cause. These arguments when I tell him how I feel about something end with me not feeling heard so much I either shut down or walk away. I get so frustrated but I don't want to leave him and I don't want our child to he without their dad, like his other child is due to the baby momma. I don't want these things to drive a wedge so I pretty much talk to him as calm as I can after the fight or he'll sit in the car with me while we talk it out. And I know he's really trying. There's no doubt about that. He's changed so much and grown so much. But I just sometimes feel alone in what I'm feeling.
I'm sorry for the chaos and spitballing but if anyone had any advice, or have been in a similar situation. I don't want to leave him I just want to know what I need to do to help him understand where I'm coming from.

Hopefully this isn't too long:
My boyfriend and I have been dating for 5 years. I am now 24 and he is 29.
Our relationship has begun to involve more real life activities in the last 24 months because I was away at college for most of our relationship. I have begun to realize that my boyfriend may lack the responsibility traits needed to be a successful adult. (Job, car, housing, insurance, saving for retirement)
We have had conversations about this and he says that he will get better with time management, money spending, keeping a job (he keeps getting jobs that lower his hours overtime), etc. At first, I was willing to accept that I would have to guide him sometimes but now I think that he has started to rely on me as a crutch even after I told him the added stress that it makes me feel. I feel like I have to be a mother to him or "wear the pants" in our life together.
I decided to put my foot down and make an ultimatum. He has to move out and at least get a roommate by the time I graduate in the summer of 2024. We agreed to this in the middle of 2022.
Am I being too harsh? I want him to show me that he can be diligent, responsible, and forward thinking. Is it possible that I am forcing him to be something that he is not? Would it be better to walk away?
He says that he barely sleeps and eats because of the ultimatum/stress. He said that I am giving him a lot of stress and he thinks that I am making him choose me or his grandparents (which is not my intention).
Ps. He was also partially raised by his grandparents and lives with them because his mother is not responsible herself (she relies on her husband).
This is my first relationship. My mom wants us to go to therapy and work it out. I'm not sure if it will help although we both are open to going (our reasons why are different though - whole nother story) I would be responsible for making sure we go because he is hard to rely on.
Summary question: Does an ultimatum really work in these type of situations when someone has problems making responsible decisions? tl;dr

Hi all
I've been going through some bad things lately. I've been really depressed. I'm crying all the time, can't get out of bed, don't don't have energy to brush my teeth. I'm in therapy. I don't know if it's helping. I also dont remember if I told dad I was in therapy.
I've been picking on my dad yesterday and today. Today it went so far I upset him. The thing is that in the moment, I didn't think I was picking on him. I had some genuine issues with him (but didn't voice them in the best way. Even if I do, he doesn't listen).
Then I think ym self-hatred got a bit out of control and I said some things which I know isn't true. Dad has had a hard life and I have too. We spent 8 years pretty much huddled together where it was us against the world. So to hear me say some things like "did you even care about me? Were you just using me" was obviously upsetting to him.
I didn't realise how badly I was upsetting him (or how much out of line I was) until he hung up on me. His voice quivered a little before he hung up and he said he needed time.
I was about to apologise but I got an incoming call about one of my issues and one of them might be solved. I sent him a text message apologising. I said I didn't mean the things I said and that I was just trying to hurt him because I was hurt. I told him that I would give him some space and if he wanted to talk to me, he could message me first (as I'm giving him space to be respectful).
Is there anything I can do to make things easiebetter for him. I don't care if he never wants to speak to me again but I do care about his feelings. I dont want him to feel like I never loved him. He lives in another country so visiting/sending gifts is out of the question
Tl;Dr I made my dad upset after saying some hurtful things I didn't really believe (which was fuelled by my depression). I apologised. Is there anything else I should be doing?

A lot of people come into this sub, and aren't FA, and they want to give advice (even if a post isn't flaired with the "Advice Wanted" flair or mentions anything about wanting advice). I'm not just talking about this sub, or reddit, or the internet, but even in real life people are so eagar to give people advice when no one's asked for it. It's not even just about loneliness. When it comes to poverty, getting jobs, losing weight, everyone does this about every topic. When anyone has a problem, there's a malicious shift in people's behaviour.
Specifically, they want to give "harsh truths", "tough love", and they want to "encourage us to do the hard work". They have something we don't, so they think they know what we need to do so solve our problems. They're haves giving things to have-nots. They're the nobleman tossing coins to the peasantry. They're the developed nations giving aid to the developing nations.
They're the superior helping the inferior.
And that's the issue. They feel superior. When they interact with us, all of their inadequacies and tragedies that exist outside of the realm of relationships vanish from their mind, causing them to assume that we're a failure in every respect of our lives. Jobs? Money? Therapy? Exercise? Healthy diets? Hobbies? Hygiene? We can't have any of those. We can't possibly earn more than them. We can't possibly be healthier than them. We can't possibly invest more into our mental health than them. Why? Because they're a have and we're have-nots. They're 1's, we're 0's. It's binary black and white thinking.
And even when it comes to relationships, the idea of superiority is fragile. They always assume that they're a have because they put in the hard work, and we're have-nots because we didn't put in the hard work. Success is the result of effort, and failure is the result of laziness. Happiness is deserved and tragedy is deserved. It useful to view the world in such a way. No one wants to think the pleasant things that they have in life aren't the result of their own efforts, because succeeding at something alone doesn't mean anything. It only means something if you think that it came about due to your own efforts, due to your own free will. But despite that mindset feeling good, it doesn't take long looking at the chaos of the real world to realize that it doesn't allign with reality.
Look outside and you'll see obese people in relationships, druggies in relationships, video game addicts in relationships, people who shower once a month in relationships, people with anger issues in relationships, narcississts in relationships, criminals in relationships, and even dictators in relationships.
Many of these people don't know what "self-improvement" or "mental health" is, let alone put any effort into it. Yet they're haves and we're have-nots despite a lot of us going to the gym, going to therapy, regularly going to social events, reading hundreds of self help books and knowing all of their advice and guidance like the backs of our hands. I've read and watched and listened to so much psychology-related content that I hear every single utterance of what my therapist says to me every week in my head before she says it, because it's all so predictable and equally vacuous when it comes to my situation. Therapy is really helpful to most people, but for my situation it's useless. My therapist literally admitted that she can't help me our last session. She's been subtely suggesting that I should stop attending sessions, because quite frankly we've hit a dead end and there's nothing she can do.
But hey, let's ignore reality and just see it however we want to so we can feel good. Happy people are good and strong, sad people are bad and weak. 1 and 0. Black and white. Evil and good. Have and have-not. Because it feels good to think you're a hero of truth towering above the ignorant masses. And let's face it, that's why normies come here. They want to see a have-not venting about their loneliness, click on the post, and then comment, "Have you tried taking a shower?" So they can feel like a have. So they can feel powerful. So they can feel like a nobleman tossing coins to the peasantry. They assume that the solutions to our problems are easy - something they can do with ease - so they can feel powerful and competent. It's a deceptive way of putting someone else down and bigging yourself up under the moralistic guise of altruism. And it's a really great strategy of doing so because when people complain they can say, "I'm just trying to help! You're so selfish to expect me to give you a step by step guide on how to solve your problem! You need to put in the hard work!. See, this is why you're FA!"
But that isn't help. It's just insulting. It's hurtful. You're not slick, we know you're just looking for sneaky ways to indulge in schadenfreude. We know you're just looking for ways to take pleasure in other people's misery. Nothing about that is "good". You're a cruel and awful person for taking pleasure in such a thing, yet you have the nerve to judge other people?
It already hurts to be comepletely isolated from society, my existence acknowledged by no one at all. But atleast I can take pride in the fact that I've carried this burden my entire life and still march onwards, never succumbing to trying to wash away the pain through s*****e despite wanting to and attempting to since I was 9 years old.
But I can barely even have that. People still seek to take that away from me. People still seek to minimize my problems and my suffering and my struggle against the misery of this world because they want to "give advice" when no one ever asked. They think my problems are so small that they could be fixed by me just "putting myself out there". They think my suffering is so small that I can "just learn to be happy alone". They think I'm so lazy that telling me to "just take a shower" would be a mind-blowing and life changing piece of advice. They think I'm just a basement dwelling hermit who deserves the sufering I experience and needs to "stop whining", and "go to a therapist", and "just be confident," and "just go to a gym".
It's like telling a homeless person to "just think positive". No. Their problem is bigger and more complex than that. Every solution you can think of in the 30 seconds you think about it they've already tried a million times. Why assume you can think so much faster than them? Because you're purposefully understimating them to make yourself feel good. Because you don't want to help them, you want to indulge in schadenfreude. You want to take pleasure in their misery.
And before anyone says "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" - it's bullshit. The only people who say this are people who are endlessly bathed in compliments and external validation, which makes any occasional insult tiny in comparison. People like us are insecure, because we don't get any validation. Our existences are barely even acknowledged. And the only times that it does get acknowledged, its usually is paired with at the very least thinly veiled insults. We have no sweet compliments to wash away the bitter taste of insult and rejecton. If you lived like us, then you'd be like us.
And no, before someone asks, I'm not asking for better advice. I'm not asking for a step by step guide. I'm not asking for a magic pill that will solve everything. I'm not questioning the quality of your advice, I'm questioning its very existence. The reason why I'm saying this is because I know that no one can provide step by step guides or magic pills. Those things don't exist and never will. In your attempts to "give advice" when no one asked, all you're doing is insulting people. That's why your "positivity" gets downvoted. That's why when people tell me to "love myself" in real life I roll my eyes. I'm not being a debbie downer, I'm actually being the opposite. I optimistically believe that the majority of people don't deserve the suffering they experience in their lives and do genuinely try everything within their capabilities to fix it. Your being pessimistic in thinking that everyone's problems can be solved with a click of the fingers.

Don't fall for these voices.
I deal with a low self-image about my writing all the time, and my view is if I can become published, anyone can.
One way I deal with this is to turn my imposter syndrome into characters. This is funny. I know have the power.
When I get a terrible review, I know the grammar check it, and say it in a funny voice.
Having a one-star review is a good thing. I have found books I love from one-star reviews. Writers with only five-stars are usually paying for reviews. Your favorite book right now, has a one-star review from someone.
Don't let yourself or people in the real world accuse you of being a real writer. You are not the impostor.
Finish your book and publish it. Your book will never be read and your world will wither if it's not written.
At least once a year I get accused of being a fake writer by other so-called writers.
My writing may stink, but I am real. And I don't have to tell every pen name I write under.
If I choose to sell my books for $.99 cents or give them for free that doesn't make me a fake writer.
I am not the imposter. I may never be a best seller. Truthfully, the only real money I ever made was when my children's fiction was used in standardized tests. But I am published and not fake.
Most recently, I was accused because I said that middle-grade fiction isn't just based on the age of the characters that 11-year-old protagonist can be horror or coming of age. I edit kids lit.
All joking aside, real impostors never see themselves as impostors. They are always accusing people of being fake writers when they have an opinion that is different from theirs, or they dare make a spelling mistake on Reddit. It's Reddit, not a published book.
You are not the imposter.
Real impostors are trying to sell you writing courses, but when you go to their own books, they aren't as advertised.

Another vanisighting?
Another vanisighting: https://www.reddit.com/NatureofPredators/comments/11y624d/vani_doing_things_he_does_lost_and_found_fanart/
Thanks to u/Brotanics
First Previous
Memory Transcription Subject: Vichak, venlil school principal
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2136–09-09
A few timepaws after professor Baslik left my school things returned to normal. I settled into my office and prepared to start my first task on the list, tackling my overflowing inbox. With my mail client opened, I began scrolling through the endless stream of messages. Most of them were routine: reminders, updates, and requests for meetings. But one particular letter caught my eye, standing out amidst the sea of text.
I looked at the email and saw the sender's name, Sirkal (of Kadu from Kleran). It was someone from this town and the host of her mailing address showed why I have never heard of her before. The letter came from the University of Charok, the same institution where Professor Baslik taught. It is not that odd, really. Kleran and Charok are located next to each other. It's not that unthinkable for someone who was born here to move there. The reverse is also true. I remember that the parents of some of my students are from Charok.
"Dear Vichak,
My name is Sirkal of Kadu from Kleran, and I am a legal overseer assigned to the Department of Social Science at the University of Charok. I am writing to you regarding Professor Baslik's recent visit to your school."
As a legal overseer, I have been entrusted with the responsibility to manage a legal challenge that might arise from his visit. I also would like to follow up with you on some important matters related to your institution.
I believe that it is in your best interest to reply to this letter at your earliest convenience to schedule a meeting and I will be able to synchronize with your cycle. Your prompt response will allow us to address these matters effectively and efficiently.
With Respect
Sirkal"
The letter from Sirkal and her request for discussion about legal matters made me feel a bit apprehensive. I see how being involved with Professor Baslik, even indirectly, could potentially be controversial. So I did need to tread carefully to avoid any missteps. The fact that Sirkal's mail server was the same as Baslik's is quite reassuring. I'm not an informatics expert, but I think it would be difficult to spoof such a thing.
It was likely that Sirkal was indeed who she claimed to be.
Still, as a responsible educator, It was important to do my due diligence before responding to Sirkal's request. I spent some time conducting an online search, looking for more information about her and her background. As I sifted through the search results, I found several pages hosted by her workplace, as well as her personal page. What I discovered was a woman who was much more than just a legal staff member at the University of Charok. Sirkal also worked as a pro bono advocate, offering her legal services to clients who might not otherwise be able to afford them.
That kind of dedication gave me confidence in her character. So I finally wrote my response to her.
"Hi Sirkal
My school operates in Shift Minus One. I am available for half a claw during the middle of my timepaw. Let me know a suitable date for our meeting.
Regards, Vichak"
Despite people living in their own shifts, we do need a standardized way. The government of the entire planet works in the same shift and they work in what's known as "Shift Zero". The four others are Minus Two, Minus One, Plus One, and Plus Two.
I was about to read another email when my intercom chimed in with a request for a call. Having ascertained that I am awake, the advocate switched to voice call.
"Do you have an agenda on the between 1 to 1.5 claws from now? If not, allow me to visit you." her email read.
The timeframe she had given me was during my mid-meal break, which I usually spent in my office eating. I wasn't sure what Sirkal wanted to discuss. I really, really hope this won't end with me getting bogged down with workplace politics at the University of Charok.
"I mean… I am free, but are you going to visit soon?" I said, hoping for a bit more information.
"Thank you for confirming your schedule. I shall be going." She said before ending the call.
At the designated break time one claw later, I was about to enjoy a meal that my mother and I had made earlier that day. Just as I was about to take my first bite, the school's security guard contacted me through the intercom.
"Ma'am, someone named Sirkal is at the gate right now," the guard said.
"Let her in," I instructed the guard. "I'll meet her at my office."
I took the first bite of the Döner Kebab and I wondered just what she was here for. When Sirkal appeared in my office the advocate sat before I even had the chance to allow her. The woman has dark fur with a shocking white stripe extending from behind her eyes down to her back. It was a pattern that I had never seen before, and I wonder if it was natural or a result of some kind of dye.
"Thank you for giving me the time and place for us to talk," Sirkal began, looking at my lunch box. "Do not let my presence hinder the enjoyment of your meal." Her body language was minimal, and her gestures were subtle, but there was a sense of intensity in the way she composed herself. I couldn't help but wonder if, like Vani and Baslik, there was something "wired wrong" in her head.
Not "wrong", I chastised myself, but "differently".
I extended a gesture of hospitality to Sirkal. "Do you want something to eat or drink? I can order one from the cafeteria." I asked.
"Cold water suffices," she replied. "The wrap you have there has a peculiar form and texture. May I inquire as to what those things are?"
I chuckled slightly at her curiosity. "Oh, this? This is a human dish called Döner Kebab. I've heard that it used to use flesh, but they have plant-based variations now."
Her eyes bulged slightly. There was a barely restrained desire in her gaze as if she was fascinated by the idea of consuming human food. But before I could get further into this topic, Sirkal spoke again.
"I have heard from Baslik about your adventure to the capital," she said.
"I did… yeah. Hey, do you want half of mine?" I pushed my lunchbox toward the advocate, offering her a share of my Döner Kebab.
Sirkal hesitated for a moment but then gestured with gratitude. "Along with this cold water, how much do you sell this for?" she asked, rummaging through her satchel.
"Uh... free?" I replied, a bit taken aback by the question. The advocate had taken a cash card, but she put it back again.
"Thank you," she said, taking one of the kebab wraps.
"Oh yeah, let me get you your drink," I got off and made my way to my bar to pour her a glass of water.
"So, what brought you here?" I asked, finally getting down to the business.
"As per my letter, my colleague Baslik visited your school yesterday, and I have a moral obligation to visit," she said, her voice almost as flat as Vani's.
"How well do you know Professor Baslik?" I asked, placing the glass of water on the table and pushing it toward her.
"I am the reason Baslik is still teaching at our university," she replied. "People he works with tend to get caught in the crossfire, which is why I am here."
Her words left me with more questions than answers, but before I could ask any more, Sirkal pulled out a pad and requested to add her contact information to my device. I accepted her request and watched as her details were added to my contacts.
"We, the crosswired, need to stick together," Sirkal said, looking up at me with a hint of intensity in her gaze. "I'm offering you my service free of charge."
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Crosswired? Is that what you call yourself?"
Sirkal nodded, "Yes, though the human term 'neurodivergent' is gaining popularity too. I know you're used to people like me," While I wondered if she meant my students or my brother on Earth, I realized that she stared crossed-eyed with her snout pointing at me.
My brother then.
"I see. I did notice that Baslik has no fear toward humans."
"He's devoid of feeling," Sirkal continued. "Fortunately, his parents instilled altruism in him."
I couldn't help but think of the recently expelled student, Radaktil, as she mentioned.
"I know about your brother," Sirkal continued. "He is blessed to have a sister like you."
Her monotonous words felt like a warm embrace, and I felt a sense of gratitude toward this stranger. "Oh, I can't hog all the compliments," I said, smiling. "My mother also supported Vani throughout his life. How about you?"
Sirkal continued to eat the kebab, savoring each bite as she stared at me intently. "This human food tastes very delightful," she remarked between bites. "Thank you for introducing me to their cuisine."
It was obvious to me that she was avoiding answering my question.
"I'm sorry for asking that," I said, sensing that I had touched on a sensitive topic. "It must have been terrible."
Sirkal seemed to relax a bit at my apology. "In case I am being recorded, I do not consent," she said, pausing to take another bite of the kebab before continuing. "It has been said that I survived the Correctional Facility. Of course, if you search for my public record, you will find that there is no mention of me being committed to such a place."
I sensed the unspoken implication in her words and felt a bit sad for her. The thought of anyone having to endure the Correctional Facility made me dread it, and for now… I wondered again if I had done the right thing with Radaktil.
"How much do you know about my school?" I asked.
"Your institution has a reputation," Sirkal replied. "I could have had a more comfortable life had something like yours existed in my time. I am personally invested in ensuring your school's continuation."
I felt a sense of relief at her words. "Regardless... sometimes we're way over our heads," I added, as the recent incident with the violent student was still heavy on my mind.
"Please elaborate," Sirkal said, her gaze intense as she leaned in closer to me.
"Sirkal, there was a violent student of mine that I might have condemned to a correctional facility," I admitted, feeling a sense of guilt and shame wash over me as I spoke.
"How violent?" Sirkal asked, her gesture twitching slightly as she spoke.
"He assaulted several students, but we only caught him after we installed a hidden camera. Mind you, the student he caught assaulting was crosswired too," I felt a lump form in my throat as I spoke.
Sirkal stared at me for a moment, as if judging me for my character. She took a final large bite of the kebab before continuing. "Our system is built in such a way that sometimes things like this are unavoidable," she said finally. "I understand in a way that does not condone nor condemn."
"Do you think I should do something different?" I asked Sirkal, hoping for some guidance and reassurance.
"That question is your burden to bear, Vichak," Sirkal replied. "I am here to provide you with legal services to protect your school and your students. But making you feel better about your decision is not in my job description."
When she finished, I heard a chime from my office's sound system, signaling the arrival of a new notification. Checking my desk, I realized that I had received a letter from an advocate on behalf of Kiyat. It took me a while before I realized that Kiyat was Radaktil's mother.
"I believe I need your services, Sirkal,"
Sirkal nodded. She chugged the glass of cold water until it was drained empty before taking out her pad from her satchel and turning its screen on.
Memory Transcription Subject: Vani, venlil foreign exchange participant
Date [Standardized Human Reckoning]: 2136–09-10
The next day, after spending a restful night in Dieng, we departed early in the morning for the city of Wonosobo. We needed to restock our supplies and perform maintenance on the Van. Once we had everything dealt with, we continued our journey towards the City of Yogyakarta, but not before we made a detour to a temple called Borobudur.
We approached the temple after we paid the entrance fee. With a clear grassy field surrounding the temple, it looked more like a monumental mound than a place of worship. The details of intricate carvings on its walls became more visible as we came closer. However, we were only allowed to go as far as the fence that surrounded the temple, which was about ten meters from the base. As we stood there, taking in the sight of the temple I wished that we could get closer.
"So… I presume we are not allowed to get in?"
"Back then tourists were allowed to get in and they wore down the stone of the temple. Nowadays they only let religious leaders or scholars in."
Curious about the temple's origins I asked. "Is this a Hindu temple too?"
"Oh, this one is a-" Johan paused. "I have a feeling we might be allowed to enter."
I looked in the direction Johan was looking, and a furless human approached us, they were clad in what I remember as formal clothing.
"Hi. I'm Sudarmo. Do you want to see the Borobudur up close?" My translator was still in subtitle mode and there was no hint of gender in the text. But I think he was a man. Sudarmo has no single fur on top of his head, just like Johan. But he still had fur above his eyes, unlike Stawa.
"But do you not restrict access to scholars?" I asked him.
"Aren't we all scholars?" He said with a smile, the micro gestures on his face implied that he wanted me to get into this tour.
"I suppose you have a point," I said, returning his smile. "Lead the way.
The man led us along the fence, through the crowds of tourists, who stared at us. I guess they are envious that they were not given the same opportunity that we had. Approaching the gate in the fence, I noticed that it was not particularly tall and a human could easily jump over it. However, there seemed to be a sense of respect and decency that prevented them from doing so. I wondered if there were mechanisms in place to detect and prevent unauthorized access.
Sudarmo placed one of his fingers on a sensor on the gate, and after a beep, he pushed it open. A set of stairs on every four sides of the temple allowed us to climb upward. We walked to the one nearest to us, and when we reached the bottom of the stairs the function of a shelf near one of the stairs became clear. Sudarmo removed his feet covering and stored it on the shelf.
"I need you to remove your shoes as well." The tour guide ordered.
"Is this a purity thing, or do you want to reduce the tear and wear on the stone?" I asked.
"A bit of both, but mostly the latter." Said Sudarmo.
The tour guide explained that the Borobudur is slightly younger than the temples in Dieng, but not by much. The temple was somewhat "lost" until it was found in the nineteenth century and restored.
"What deities are venerated in this temple?" I asked, curious about the religious significance of the site.
"This is a Buddhist temple," Sudarmo replied. "While we do have the concept of divine beings, these gods are also bound in the cycle of rebirth. Are you familiar with the concept of reincarnation?"
I nodded. "This is what the people of the Sun in my homeworld believed. The people of the Stars, on the other hand, believe that their soul will ascend into the sky and watch over their descendants."
Sudarmo went on to explain that the temple is adorned with a series of intricate reliefs that depict scenes from the life of the religious teacher who founded the Buddhism belief system. The reliefs were originally painted white and then given color later. All this has disappeared more than one thousand years later.
"You said that humans have restored part of this temple. Why not restore the colors too?"
"Well... it's controversial. We don't know the original color of the relief, for example. Well let's get up shall we?"
When I placed my foot on the stone floor of the temple, I felt something akin to…awe? I thought about the hundreds of thousands, if not millions of humans, who have set their feet on the temple. The sense of "deep time" I felt in Dieng was present here as well.
We climbed up to the first terrace and there we walked around as Sudarmo continued commentary on the relief on the wall and the balustrade of the terrace. He also injected the temple's history and significance. I found myself captivated by his storytelling, and before I knew it, half a claw had passed and we were at the topmost part of the temple. A statue of a human sitting sat before me, he looked so serene in his meditation.
Sudarmo told me that it was the Buddha himself.
"So, your main goal is to be free from the cycle of death and rebirth? How do you achieve it?"
"Well… if I have to sum it up I would use the five precepts. We have to abstain from killing living beings, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying, and intoxication. Mind you, this is only a summation, people still argue about the details."
I was intrigued and asked, "All living beings? So you refrain from eating flesh?"
Sudarmo replied, "The vat-grown meat can be harvested without killing. Though I only eat them for my birthday." He added with a chuckle.
The idea of eating flesh only on one's birthday seemed morbid to me, but any argument I can think of against vat-grown meat would be based on my prejudice, not something coherently utilitarian.
Johan added, "Yeah, plant-based meat is cheaper and doesn't taste that different."
Curiosity got the best of me and I asked, "Is there any religion where flesh-eating is its central part?"
Sudarmo looked at Johan and I looked at my human too.
"Well… uh… when I say 'sacrifice' can you explain what the translation is?"
"To sacrifice is to do something detrimental to yourself for the betterment of others."
"Yeah… that is more like self-sacrifice to us. Sacrifice can also mean something we give for an offering to a deity."
"Oh… you used to offer flesh to your deities?"
"There is a religion where the sacrifice of animals was a major festival, but times have changed. That religion now accepts vat-grown meat as a substitute."
Sudarmo nodded in agreement. "Yes, the concept of sacrifice has evolved. The practice of animal sacrifice has been around for thousands of years, but we humans have become more aware of our impact on the environment and other living beings. As Johan said, many religions have adapted their practices to reflect these changes."
As much as they tried to hide it. My time in the museums revealed that humans had gone through dark times in which they waged war and committed atrocities against each other and other species. But as the geologist tour guide said, our ancestors' mistake is not our own. Humans, like everyone else. learn from their mistakes and grow.
Their commitment to creating a kinder future for their society is something that I found comforting. They had climbed up the food chain, but once they came victorious at the top... they looked down at those they trampled and… they chose to fix what damage they did.
I hope that more people in the future will be able to understand this.

I know the EUK isn't meant to be mixed with acids or any C products, but I my routine is mostly the Marine Hyaluronics, followed by a snail mucin serum and snail mucin cream (same company + same product line) to end my routine. Upon mixing the EUK with either of these, the mix turns warm in my palm, so there's definitely some chemical reaction taking place. I've ordered pH strips to see what's going on. Has anyone else experienced this? Why is the EUK acting up with a non-acid product? Am I smearing a straight oxidized goo onto my face and worsening the oxidative stress load? Thanks!

Hi all,
Looking for some advice on what to do and not to do.
In 2017 I had surgery for a vocal cord cyst after a very strong shout in 2015/2016 (can’t remember). My voice was perfect after surgery.
Did speech therapy but it didn’t help with my voice till I got the surgery. The tips and how to talk was generally very helpful and I know I used the techniques for some time post surgery.
In 2022 I started realising my voice was being iffy again. In March 2022 is when things got pretty bad, went to ENT in May and he said there is no issues just technique and getting over a cold. But my voice only recovered very little. I never got back to 100%. And in August 2022 it was back like 2016 - I couldn’t even make a sentence and I need to talk a lot in my life, job and kids. It got better but nowhere near 100%. I will say at best 50% better. And has been like that ever since. I can’t talk without my voice being crappy. I can’t sing or chant or public speak. I’ve realised nowadays when I talk my jaws start to hurt.
I saw the ENT again in Jan 2023 and there is a cyst again. Same spot not as big but it’s there. I have no idea what caused it or why it came back. What I did wrong. According to him they can come back whenever. He reckons its not affecting me enough for surgery but he appreciates he doesn’t live my life. I am scared of surgery a second time because of scaring.
I have read an amazing story on the singing subreddit where someone came back from total shit. I know mine isn’t nowhere near that.
What advice does anybody have that has been in a similar situation? I can’t open my mouth without being embarrassed or anxious of the quality of voice that will decide to come out.

Hi y’all! I cannot use the TW flair I dunno why. I am overall stable. But something happened today and I FEEL manic. Grandiose thoughts, hyper active brain (usually my brain is quiet and organised, now it works so much I have a headache lol) etc, you name it. Dreams of doing this and that, eh. And I couldn’t even take a nap. All because... I wrote to my aunt I was never close with. Yes you read it right. You might ask yourself- „ee, what?” I hasten to explain. So there was the year 2019, I went full-blown manic. It was really intense. My closest family was away but they knew something was up because of the things I had been telling them, my online activity and overall behaviour reported by more distant family that lives nearby. (I visited them xx times per day.) So one time I really was scared I will die or something, I opened the door to run to the family nearby and when I opened the door there was this aunt (she is not the one I visited, she lives also nearby, but more far away then the other family members) I was afraid to sleep (I didnt sleep properly in this time period, only kind of blacked out) She tuckled me to sleep and I had some rest. When my closest family came back, clearly distressed (the way the house looked + many other things) they called the ambulance and there I was in the mental hospital lol. This aunt was helping my mother to deal with me. Ok now back to these times, this aunt is a kind of person that forwards these pictures with written things on them to everybody. As I don’t own the whatsapp app, I wasnt reading them. I only installed it sometimes and I wrote like a flower to her as a response or wishing also everything well (as a response to these pictures) Today I opened whatsapp and the last pictures from her were at the beginning of march. It was unusal because she used to send them a lot. I kind of regretted not replying more to her even with a flower emoji and I randomly send her „happy (second) day of spring 🌷” And like that, it kind of switched something in my brain lol. I want to mention that my mania was always occuring in spring/summer time. It is a little bit chaotic but english isnt my first language. I wish I didnt send this message. There is also a possibility that I somehow didnt get these pictures and she was still sending them. It makes me think, if I couldn’t control this impulse to send a message, maybe there will be other things I will not be able to control.

The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame

Genre: Open-World 3D Action-Platformer
Players: 1-2 Co-Op (Local Split-Screen)
.
Review:
The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame is a family-friendly Open-World 3D Action-Platformer released in 2019 on PC, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, and Nintendo Switch. This is the yet another entry in Traveller’s Tales’ long-running LEGO crossover franchise of family-friendly 3D Action-Platformers, with this game naturally following the events of The LEGO Movie 2.
So... okay, this game isn’t a complete disaster. While The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame is one of the worst-reviewed mainline games in the LEGO franchise, it does have its redeeming qualities. Having said that... yeah, this is rough.
Let’s start with the positives. First, The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame makes smart use of an element from [LEGO Worlds](LINK), the ability to scan items and build them. It then works this into the franchise’s usual “build something to solve a ‘puzzle’ to progress” way of doing things by having a pretty obvious square platform where you’re clearly intended to build something, a nice visual shorthand. Also, this game starts you out in its Open-World immediately, not forcing you through some starting linear level before setting you loose to explore.
Yeah, that’s... that’s about all the positives I have to say here. I mean sure, yes, this game does once again reuse the standard Traveller’s Tales’ LEGO 3D Action-Platformer formula, which at its core is still good, it just does so in a particularly awful way here.
Just moving around in this game feels like you’re walking through molasses, like you have to struggle a bit before you can get some momentum going. Why Traveller’s Tales felt the need to do this when movement was perfectly fine in earlier games, I have no idea, but it makes everything in this game more of a slog. This slowness extends to the game’s vehicles, which absolutely fail to convey any sense of speed.
However, what ultimately feels like this game’s biggest fundamental flaw is the absolutely joyless presentation. It’s not even just that the film’s all-star voice cast has been replaced here with awful stand-ins that sound drastically different from their film counterparts, it’s that the LEGO franchise’s signature humor is missing here, replaced with bog-standard, boring, task-focused writing that particularly feels like a betrayal of the wonderfully witty film this game is based on. Add to this 3D visuals that seem unpolished with a fair amount of pop-in and some frustrating camera issues, and you have a game that at times seems to want you to hate it.
Just what the heck went wrong here? The previous game in the series before this was LEGO DC Super-Villains, a title that I felt was one of the high points in the franchise! That game was absolutely overflowing with personality, polish, and great gameplay that progressed the series. How the heck did we go from that to this!?
When I felt like I had played enough of The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame to review it, I shut it off in disgust. This wasn’t merely a fatigue of the LEGO games that may have seeped into my feelings on many of the other games in the franchise, this was a genuine dislike for the game. Virtually every other console game in the series, I could see myself at least playing for a bit to kill some time, but the thought of spending more time with this game repulses me. Good job guys, you wrecked it.
tl;dr – The LEGO Movie 2 Videogame is yet another game in Traveller’s Tales’ family-friendly franchise of LEGO Open-World 3D Action-Platformers, but something went very wrong this time. Frustrating and sluggish movement and a joyless presentation make this one of the hardest games in the franchise to enjoy, even if you’re a fan of the film. This game does have its redeeming qualities, but there are more than a dozen better games that play exactly like this one does, but better. With that being the case, I suggest you play one of those games instead.

Grade: D+

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Read chapter 15 here: https://www.reddit.com/saw/comments/11rvp3u/legacy_from_the_book_of_saw_chapter_15_dr_steward/
___________________________________________________
*** CHAPTER 16 **\*
William Schenk enters a shabby apartment complex carrying a red, portable cooler. He passes the commonly empty front desk and proceeds upstairs. When he reaches his floor, he sees a call girl exiting his neighbor's apartment. He flashes a charming smile and keeps moving. His neighbor, ashamed, says, "Hey Bill…," But Bill doesn't stop. He offers a wave and continues down the hall.
Aside from a small TV and newspaper articles, his flat is almost barren. He places the cooler on the kitchen counter and heads into his bedroom. Opening the closet door, he procures a small, aqua green, square-shaped box and a thin strand of rope, approximately four feet in length.
He sets the box on the living room table, then grabs the portable cooler. On the table in front of him, he switches on an old radio, quickly tuning the device to a new station.
The reporter begins to speak about the mass grave that's been discovered, while Bill stuffs the box full of newspaper. He then opens the cooler and places the contents into box. The final step is to wrap the box with the rope, making the perfect knot and bow.
In the kitchen, he takes a black marker from a ceramic cup and writes a note on a small white tag. He slips the rope through a pre-punctured hole on the label and ties it off. Satisfied, The Organ Donor admires his work, then places the gift inside the freezer.
*** CHAPTER 17 **\*
Paint dripped on the precinct floor as Lincoln made his way to the restroom. He locked the door, unbuttoned his shirt, set it on the counter, and unhooked the latch on his brace. The Detective slowly removed the homemade cilice, exposing a throng of metal spikes that had left dozens of painful indentations in his skin. Lincoln stared at his scarred torso, stoic to the pain he had caused himself as repentance. As he watched the blood spill from several small wounds, he remembered cradling Roy's head, and in his mind, Lincoln felt he deserved this.
He allowed his sores a moment to breathe while he struggled to remove the paint from his shirt and jacket. Five minutes passed, and he was granted only a moderate improvement. He reapplied the painful undergarment, breathed sharply, and buttoned his shirt.
On the way to his office, he is approached by an officer, "Detective Riley," she says, "Renee Walsh would like to speak with you."
"Where is she?"
"Agent Webb is interviewing her now. Right, this way."
Following his colleague to the Booking Room, Lincoln feels the cilice pressing against his skin. He reaches into his shirt, pulls the strap to tighten the brace, and readjusts his clothes.
Agent Webb has concluded her interview, and she passes him in the hallway, "She's all yours."
Entering the room, Lincoln puts on a neutral face, "I'm sorry for the delay. Are you alright?"
Renee stands up from her chair and approaches the Detective, "Lincoln, It's been a long time."
"Look, this is just a precaution. You'll be safe here."
"That woman…" she says, referring to Agent Webb, "She's treating me like I'm a part of this."
Lincoln looks over his shoulder, then back to Renee, "I can't reveal much, but there is a connection between the murders and Jigsaw's accomplices."
Renee moves to the table and sits down, "I thought this was over. It's been over two years…."
"Have you been in contact with any of the other survivors?"
She sighs, "Not really, just Jeff…."
"You were close?"
Renee thinks about her response before answering, "He didn't do those things he was accused of… I-I trust him."
"What about the rest of the group?"
"The others? They never really liked me, and you don't often find someone who appreciates what John did."
Lincoln glances at her eye patch, "Why do you?"
She stares at her shoes and explains, "I always felt invisible, but he noticed me. I know it's stupid, but I needed this."
Her words resonated with Lincoln. He slid his hands against his chest and down to his hips. He could feel the Nitrous canister inside his pocket, left over from his session with Dr. Steward. A sudden craving was triggered, "We're going to keep you here as long as we have to."
Renee's face was tinged with sadness, "Lincoln, I can't." She says, distressed.
"What's wrong?"
She bits her lip, "It's not me I'm worried about… It's my Dad and Brother."
"There's no indication that they're in any danger."
"It's not that," She says, "My dad is sick. He needs me."
Lincoln's eyes wander, contemplative, "I'll tell you what, I'll send someone over there to make sure everything is alright, okay?"
"Thank you, Lincoln."
He moves towards the door, and she says, "Hey, maybe when this is all over, you can come by the Survivors Group and say 'Hello'? I think everyone would be happy to see you again."
Stopping at the door, Lincoln pauses and considers the suggestion. He slowly turns his head back to her and then exits the room.
Lincoln's desire to use was growing, but as he was about to exit the building, he was stopped by Chief Savino.
"Where are you going?" Savino asked.
Thinking on his feet, Lincoln replied, "I need to make a personal call."
"Can it wait?" Savino asked, "Have you finished the MP report?"
Lincoln can see Borden and Marlow through the Briefing Room window. Frustrated, he responds, "Just about. I'll bring it to you shortly."
He proceeded to the Briefing Room, where he sat at his desk and sifted through the Missing Person cases from the last ten years. While he researched the disappearances, the others read through a culled list of Jigsaw survivors and their last known whereabouts.
"Listen to this," Borden says, browsing a newspaper article, "Years after surviving Jigsaw's "final" test, "S.U.R.V.I.V.E" Author, Bobby Dagen, was found dead in his suburban home from a self-inflicted gunshot wound,'" He glances at Lincoln for a reaction, "Did you hear about this? … "While a suicide note was not present at the scene, it's speculated that he felt guilt for the death of his wife, Joyce… Dagen was outed as a fraud shortly after the death of John Kramer."
Borden sets the article down and comments, "Wrote a book called 'Survive' and then kills himself. No irony in that, huh?"
"How 'bout this," Marlow adds, "Mother and Son Killed in Car Accident Near Home Residence…." He traces the words with his finger, "It says Tara Abbot and her son Brent were killed in a collision after Tara lost control of the vehicle."
Listening to his colleagues recite the news articles, Lincoln couldn't help but imagine the victims' deaths. He keeps his emotions at bay and continues to glean information from the Missing Person files.
"Here's another one," Marlow says, "Jigsaw survivor, Mallick Scott, was pronounced dead today. After struggling with substance abuse, Scott was kidnapped and tortured by the infamous John Kramer... Neighbors reported a pungent odor next door, and the arriving officers discovered Mallick had overdosed on heroin and drowned in his pool…." Marlow looks at his colleagues solemnly, "He was found with a rubber band wrapped around his arm."
Borden squints his eyes and shakes his head, "This can't be a coincidence," he theorizes.
"What? You think they were murdered?" Marlow replies skeptically, "Who could do that?"
"Do you know Mark Hoffman? Do you know how many people he killed the night Jill Tuck died?" He took out three FBI Agents, including Peter Strahm, and a slew of cops."
"That was before I started," Marlow admits.
Lincoln turns to his associates and reveals, "Six of these Missing Person cases were also Jigsaw survivors; Joan Douglas and Morgan Tillman both disappeared four years ago, realtor Brit Stevenson from the Fatal Five trap, vanished three years ago. The list goes on."
A lite knock at the door indicates Logan's arrival. He enters the room with Agent Webb, holding pictures in his hand, "Detective," he says.
"Come in…"
He hands Lincoln an Autopsy Report, and Agent Webb stands beside him, "We've identified the tattooed woman. Her name was Pamela Jenkins. She was William Easton's sister."
"Another survivor." Unnerved, Lincoln asks, "What about the others?"
"Jeff Ridenhour never showed up," Borden said.
Marlow conjures a curious expression, "The Dentist?"
"Neurologist. He was lobotomizing patients…."
"Allegedly..." Lincoln adds.
Webb's face showed concern, "He hasn't called?"
"No, but Gavin Beck is under protection… Stupid, asshole," Borden said, "He wouldn't leave his house, so I got a patrol unit watching over him."
"I spoke with Neil Perri hours ago." Marlow notes, "He sounded drunk…."
"What did he say?" Lincoln asked.
"He wouldn't tell me where he was but said he'd be here… There's more. Simone Howard called out of work the last two days. Her manager received a text stating she was sick. I tried to reach her by phone, but no response."
Lincoln leans back, ruminating, "And Sarah Harper?"
"Nothing," Borden reveals, "but Chief Savino issued an All Points Bulletin on all of the survivors. We're putting her face on TV."
Stepping forward, Agent Webb asked, "Where's the tape from Gordon's apartment?"
"This way," Lincoln leads her to the VCR in the back of the room, "Did you find something?"
"Pamela Jenkins was investigating Jigsaw Copycats. We lost communication with her about a week ago."
Borden joins them at the TV, and Agent Webb rewinds the tape. Using the computer next to the VCR, she locates a folder from the cloud containing several videos. "Her last transmission was from this broadcast."
She presses play on the first recording, and they watch as a camera is positioned on the dashboard of a car.
Pamela captures the heavy clouds that filled the night sky. Raindrops exploded onto her windshield as she traveled up a gravel road towards a mysterious home. A black car was parked outside the house, but the license plate was out of view. She exited her vehicle and shielded her camera from the wind and rain.
"I've seen this before…." Lincoln said, "It was on the news the night Gordon died."
Agent Webb adjusts the footage, filtering it through different settings until everything is visible. The VCR has finished rewinding, and she links the tape with the content from the cellphone.
The front door is already open when Pamela tries knocking. She looks inside, "Hello? Is anybody here?"
The light switch doesn't seem to work, but Pamela proceeds cautiously into the residence and enters a nearby room. On the floor, she finds crayon drawings and children's toys.
"What are you hoping to find?" Lincoln asks.
"Hello?" Pamela repeats.
The body of a small puppet lays face down on the floor next to two small chairs. Upon turning it over, Pamela discovers the head has been smashed. Picking up one of the broken pieces, she realizes it's the Billy puppet Jigsaw would use in his traps. The doll starts to laugh, but it's labored and distorted. Next to the puppet, she finds a hammer and nails.
Pamela grabs the tool, "What the…?"
The front door slams shut, and Pamela yelps, frightened, but no one is there. Trembling, she holds the hammer in front of herself like a sword. The loud wind crashes against the frame of the building, and her nerves settle. She moves through the darkness and finds a door that leads into the next room. However, wooden boards have been nailed to the wall to prevent entry.
Setting her camera down but still recording herself, she uses the hammer to yank the nails out of the wood, one by one and then uses her strength to pry them from the wall. When the last board is removed, she grabs her camera and opens the door.
Two hands quickly pierce the darkness and rush towards her. A shirtless, emaciated man mumbles and grabs at Pamela, tearing her shirt. She drops her phone and attempts to fight him off, smacking him several times with the hammer. Blood spews from his head, and he collapses to the floor.
Pamela grabbed her phone and checked on the lifeless man; his mouth hung open, and she could see his tongue had been cut out. His body is filthy, and his fingers are covered in blood from scratching at the walls.
"Fuck! …Shit!" She says. The footage stops suddenly.
Agent Webb suggests, "We think she tried to call the police." She clicks on the following video.
The footage returns, and they can hear Pamela panting. She walks into the next room, where the man was held captive.
The light flickers as the battery dies on her phone, and they can hear her slapping the camera. Pamela is startled by the sudden appearance of a corpse with a rusty pipe impaled through its neck. The cadaver is a reddish-brown, having been deceased for some time.
"Oh my god," she says, positioning her camera closer to the body.
A bright light in the hallway turns on, and she tilts her camera towards the luminescence. She could now hear the alarming moans of someone in jeopardy through the walls.
Agent Webb inhales and grinds her teeth. Watching both monitors, they prepare for the next scene.
Pamela moves fearfully into the hallway. Her heart is racing, and a surveillance camera captures her every move. Several floorboards have detached from the foundation, and there are scratch marks on the walls as if someone was dragged. Her teeth chatter, and she proceeds nervously towards the muffled groans, the floorboards creaking with her every step.
A masked figure appears behind her, their presence announced by the audible floorboards, but before she can turn around, the hooded man smacks her in the head. The video ends, but the surveillance camera records her grisly fate.
Webb notices something on the wall and rewinds the tape for several seconds. She positions the computer next to the television, restarts the cellphone footage, and pauses the content when she sees the same marking.
"Do you see that?"
With both screens side-by-side, they can now see the symbol of Ankh.
Lincoln leans forward, "What does it mean?"
"The "Ankh" is the Egyptian symbol for Eternal Life," she says, "In the last message we received from Pamela, she said she was investigating the Gideon Meat Packing Plant. I think she followed that car to this location."
"It can't be too far from the plant," Borden theorizes.
"Did you notice the toys and chairs? I think this is a Children's DayCare… I'm going to pull up the city records…."
"Marlow can help you with that," Lincoln says, "Simone Howard doesn't live too far from here. Frank and I will go get her."
***
TO BE CONTINUED...

Hello all. I’m new to this although I’ve been reading subreddits for years. So I know if I want some honest, unbiased advice, this is the place to do it.
This post is long so please, bear with me…
My now husband and I have been together for three years. Things moved on pretty quickly as we started dating during the pandemic (worked together & lived together so we were together for the better part of the day). I was cheated on by my ex boyfriend which took a serious toll on my mental health. I stayed single for about three years, fully recovering from my past trauma. I shared with my now husband (before we were official) about all of the trauma I endured during my relationship and the aftermath. Also to note, my ex was very jealous and would makeup scenarios in his head. I never cheated on him or had any intentions to — I’ve also never been the jealous type. So when my husband and I got serious, I full on trusted him because he had never given me a reason not to. We were very open with one another. I never felt a reason to distrust him or even dare look at his phone.
A couple of months later, we were at work and I was in his office (we hadn’t disclosed our relationship to HR because we were in the same project & I didn’t want to be taken off of it). When suddenly I see his phone go off, naturally, I looked and as I mentioned before I had never felt the need to, but this time I did. It was a message from his old classmate, and it read something along the lines of “thank you for everything, I loved hearing your voice 💕”. Which stood out to me because when was he talking to her if we’re literally together all the time and also the heart emoji. So naturally I was concerned. Then there was another message from another woman saying “hi good morning, I’m doing good.” Bear in mind, I know his family and this name stood out bc I had never heard it before. We had work phones so I knew it wasn’t work related.
A couple of days passed and we got into a huge argument about it, as I had confronted him. He gave me the typical “it doesn’t mean anything”, so I left our place to go stay with my parents. A couple of days later, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I said screw it, and looked through his phone that night. He also didn’t have a passcode so I thought if he was hiding something then he’d for sure have a passcode. I begin looking through his texts and fair enough there were those two of the women I mentioned. Except the second woman were much more graphic. This was a woman he had slept with in the past (I found this out later). I also would like to note, when I had first seen the message, the name was listed as “Lauren”, after I confronted him & read the messages, the name was listed as one of his cousins, so clearly he was hiding something. He talked about how he wanted to fuck her again and missed her pussy, he asked for photos & even went as far as sending her a photo of him jerking off. With good reasoning I went ballistic and once again confronted him. He tried to place blame at me saying I left that night & he was angry etc. which Is BS because he started talking to her two weeks prior to that fight.
Later on I found more messages with his ex, to be fair, it was mostly her trying to initiate the conversation. But this was months after he swore to me there was nothing else going on. A lot of messages were archived on FB (I guess he didn’t know they wouldn’t get deleted). I found countless photos of other women, nudes, selfies, etc. even videos of him and a woman having sex (he said he saved it bc one weekend when he went out of town, there was no internet so he saved them for pleasure but why tf do you need to be jerking off on a weekend away??) For a while we didn’t post anything on FB about our relationship because we had coworkers on there and didn’t want anyone to know so clearly it’s as if he were single.
We started going to therapy because I was going through a downfall once again. I’ve been diagnosed with depression and severe anxiety in the past, which almost lead me to suicide (more so the thought of it). So I definitely felt like I was going down that spiral again. And you might say “why didn’t you just leave?” Well, it’s definitely not as easy as it sounds. I thought about it numerous times, but we had bought a house together and I truly loved him. Then later we got engaged. But this was only after the therapy.
I know this is an extremely long post but I thought it was necessary to include as much as possible. We’ve been going to therapy for a year and I feel it has worked significantly but I still feel like there is so much to discuss. But anytime I bring something up, it’s as if he’s annoyed, as if he wasn’t the one who hurt me. And even now, I feel like he’s still doing something behind my back, it’s a feeling I can’t shake off. Our therapist says it’s just the anxiety and the PTSD, but idk, you know they say to always trust your gut.
It’s just so heartbreaking to think after everything I shared with him, about how it almost broke me to get cheated on to me opening up to another man, to him doing it to me. He swears there’s never been anything physical, it’s all been via text, which doesn’t takeaway from it but it’s still emotional cheating. And that he’s no longer doing it, he tells me he understands I will never be able to fully trust him but he promises me he’ll never do it again. I really do want to trust him but it’s hard after the betrayal.
So is it all in my head?

This is about the incident happened just today. Date: 22 March, 2023 I was having pain on the back side of my head for couple of days. My sister, since, she is already working in the KIST hospital, booked an appointment with a neuro doctor for me. The doctor was, Avinash Chandra (I don't want to put "Dr" infornt of his name because of his morality of treating patients). continuing with the story, the appointment time was 3:00 pm, but due to some reasons (and i dont want to justify why), I was late by 30 mins max. As soon as I entered the room, his words were "Yei ho aaune time x2 (pointing his finger at his watch)". I was very shocked listening to those words from him. And I was thnking he knew me (from my sister's circle) and was saying it in a sarcastic way. For 5-6 sec I literally could not react. I put my apologies as I was late and began to justify with the reasons but he kept yelling. The sequence of incidents happened as such:
As soon as i entered the room(I haven't yet taken my seat and he began to yell at me)
Him: Yei ho aaune time? (pointing at his watch)
Me: Huh
Him: Yei ho aaune time?
....I was silence for 5-6 sec Me: Dila ta kahile kai hunxa ni doctor
Him: Manche yaha aghi dekhi parkhira cha. yei ho aaune time?. Parkhina ko lagi baseko ho?
ME: Sorry from my side doctor tara kahile kai dila bhai halcha ni
Him: Young mache bhayera yesari dhila aaune ho? time ko value chaina?
ME: Sorry tara....
Him: Okay k bhayo bhannus
ME: "My mind was literally blank. I was still figuring out what is going on. Yo manche le malai chinera bhanira ho ki k ho?"
And I began to tell my pain issues He was diagnosing me but i was still blank and disturbed. I could not also ask any queries further regarding my pain, I was literally that blank Then he closed the patient file and gave it to me
ME: Huss doctor tara tapaile tesari bolna chai hunna theo
Him: Kina hunna? Tapai young manche bhayera dhila aaune ho? (again yelling) "IDK what he wants to say, young manche chai kahile dhilai nahunu parne?"
ME: Doctor, ma feri sorry bhanchu tara tapai lai wait garna problem theo bhane baru bholi hernu bhako bhaye hun theo ta malai, Ma bholi aaunthea bhetna feri. Ki bistrai samjhaunu bhako bhaye hun theo malai. tapai ko yestai ho bolne tarika? "My voice comparatively got louder than before this time. And his voice got softer than before" He was again and again telling me "Young manche dhila aaune ho?"
ME: Tapai ko yei ho kura garne tarika? Patients lai yesari nai tharkaunu hunxa? Is this your morality? We argued for 1 min max and I left from there.
Then I asked peoples about the place where i could put my complaint and a lady on reception suggested me to go to the administration block and meet Mrs Pratibha or Pratima (sorry i couldnt remember her name). She carefully listened to me. I made her clear either to take an action against the doctor or I need an apology from him. She ensured me that the hospital administration will do something and let me know and took my phone number (she still has my phone number in her phone if she has not deleted it).
Mr avinash chandra, may be you are doing very well in your field, but the way how you treated me, is the worst act of a doctor. You yelled at me which proves you might have yelled at other patients as well. I even wonder if this "yelling at your patients" comes under your code of conduct? I'm posting this on the internet as a confession. And I'm not removing this post until I get an apology from him. I genuinely think everybody has their own self-respect. Yelling at others is not a rightful act, not when you are sitting on a professional chair. There might have a cttv footage about the incident happened today, IDK. Or may be I could have recorded (but that would be too gimmicky).