Couples tower isle photos

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Hi everyone, I'm the engagement editor at the Forward, and for Pride, we want to hear from LGBTQ+ Jewish couples to capture what queer Jewish joy looks like!
Email us a photo of you and your bashert with a short description of your favorite memory together at [email protected] with ‘PROUD’ in the subject line by June 15 and you might see yourself in a future story.
Thanks and Happy Pride Month!

Was helping my friend film a music video out in the woods. A bat flew around us for a couple seconds before swooping down, it’s left wing brushing up against my right arm before flying away. Later that night I had a vivid nightmare of waking up and seeing an all black figure with two white dots for eyes (no facial features) sitting on top of me, with its arms planted on both sides, staring at me. I start screaming and it slowly lifts itself off of me and bolts to my closet door, closing it. After I stop screaming, I pass out. The next morning(real Life, not dreaming lol) I see scratch marks on my right side and the top of my right shoulder. Nothing sharp was in or around my bed. Asked friends and family and they think I saw a demon lmao. Can’t find anything similar to the markings. The scratches stayed for about a week. If this has happened to anyone please let me know. I’ll post the photos after this one.

Hey all. I was asked to share my experience at Philly yesterday. In short, it was a lot of waiting (as i expected).
The first time i waited for an autograph was for about 2 hours. I heard from a VIP con-goer that he was taking a 20 minute break (when he was granted an hour) and was going to stop autographs and head to the panel. Then I left the line to go see the ST Q&A panel with Grace and Joe. It was difficult to hear him for most of the panel, i confirmed with several fans and they also had a hard time hearing him. I was standing in the back with about 40 others since they ran out of seats. There could've been an issue with his mic, or maybe he was just tired. He semed somewhat reluctant to be the first to answer questions. His energy was not quite like Grace's or the panel moderator, his seemed low.
As soon as the panel was over I went back downstairs to get my "Team up" photo op with Grace and Joe. Waited for about an hour and a half. I sat on the floor while i waited. I'll tell you the interaction went in the blink of an eye. Joe said hi and Grace asked me how i was. Snap! Done. I received my picture and saw he looked a bit unenthused. Not a deal breaker for me, I was just happy to have a photo with both of them. I'm sure Joe's face was hurting from all the smiling he had done before in the day. I spoke with a few fans later and in most of their pictures Joe's face was similar. Tired. Poor thing.
After that I wandering around on the main con floor and got some food, and bought some pins for my vest. Everyone was so kind. I walked up to Joe's info table and asked if he was still doing autographs today. The woman said yes and said that the floor would be closing soon. I paid for my ticket and went back downstairs.
There was a sea of people. Two volunteers with megaphones urging people to not push, run or shove, and only people who haven't gotten their photo op should be in line. The rest stay back and wait. I did as instructed and made a friend while waiting. I heard from a few other fans that he wasn't doing personalized autographs.
When it was the "autographs" turn I held on to my new pal's arm so we wouldn't be separated in the throng of fans. We sat in line and waited for about 2 hours, with volunteers making sure everyone got their photo op. I'd say there was at least 200 people in the room. There were a couple of times I actually felt bad being there, and debated about leaving, just asking for a refund later, so I could lessen the chaos in this poor man's incredibly long day.
When it was finally our line's turn a volunteer told us to keep our phones in our pockets. And i saw the sign that said "no personalized signatures". While I was a little disappointed, I was definitely more excited. We went behind the curtain and there he was. I kept my expectations low, holding my vest I my arms.
I approached him and he saw my vest, a volunteer and him slid it across the table, and asked "where would you like it?" He sounded a little more chipper than earlier.
I said, face down, a little too shy to look at him, "Wherever is good for you."
He spotted an area above my David Bowie patch and gleamed, "Oh right here. Yeah, that's a good spot. Yeaaah!" I watched him sign it. I couldn't help but smile.
I looked up at him and noticed we were wearing the same glasses frames, and he smiled. I said "Thank you so much!" With a giant smile on my face. I could tell he wanted to spend some more time with everyone. And was pointed out to the exit. I only realized now that I forgot to give him his small gift. Oh well. I am just grateful for the experience.
I heard multiple times from others that he might not come back to Philly after yesterday. I wouldn't blame him. I don't know what was worse for him: London or Philly. But I appreciate his dedication and perseverance to get through the day. And as far as I know, everyone I saw behaved nicely.

Race Information
Name: Newport Oregon Marathon
Date: June 3, 2023
Distance: 26.2 miles
Location: Newport, OR
TIME: 3:28:xx
Goals/ Description/ Completed?
A: Pace the first half of the 3:30 group to a 1:44 half. YES
B: Hang with the group until 18 or 20 miles. YES
C: Have a ton of fun and help people run their best marathon! YES.
D: Smile and be positive for everyone around me. YES.
Training: I didn't really train to run this race. I volunteered to pace the first half about 3 weeks before race day. My HM PR from earlier this year is 1:31'ish, so pacing a 1:44 half seemed totally reasonable for my existing triathlon training. I had a triathlon to finish, then switched to only running to figure out my pace and get ready. I hit 50+ miles for two weeks with an 18 mile long run at my 8:00/mile goal pace. It all went well. I tossed in a taper week with only 20 miles and a bunch of easy'ish swimming to stay active.
Pre Race: I didn't volunteer until the last minute so by the time I looked for a cheap hotel for the night they were all gone. I wasn't in the mood to spend $400 for a night to volunteer to run, so I decided to stay in my camper in some random parking lot and hope for the best. I drove the 2.5 hours from my house to the race location Friday afternoon. Got my packet. Scouted the course. Found a covert 'camp site' near the finish line. Went for a walk. Had dinner. Put my feet up and rested. Saturday morning I was up at 5am to eat my standard oatmeal and donut prerace meal. Caught the bus to the starting line at 5:50am and was ready! Meet the other pacers at the starting line, got our pacer shirts and pace signs. Chatted a bit. Froze for a while, it was maybe 45F, then started to line up.
Race: Race started right on time at 7am. I had only talked with a few people who were going for 3:30 - so I had no idea what size group I'd be leading. First mile went too fast at 7:45, but we settled in by 2 miles with a group of about 12 people. Mile 2 was on pace. Mile 3 had a steep down hill section and we ran that one at 7:30. There is a slight uphill at 4 miles, then a slight down hill, but then flat from 5-25. By mile 6 we were back on pace at 7:56-7:59 miles. My goal was to get everyone to the 13.1 aid station for the trade to the next pacer with a 1 minute buffer. The miles went by easy and the group stayed together pretty well through 10 miles.
We started to drop a few people around 10 miles, but hit 13.1 with maybe 10 people. We hit the mid point at 1:43:45, so pretty close to my plan. I had not calculated in a full 30 second drop from the big downhill, but it wasn't hard running, so I kept it as buffer and didn't slow up. I passed the pacer sign to another guy at 13.1 but planned to stay with the group past the turn around at 15 miles and probably drop at the 18 or 20 mile aid station. But at some point I decided to stick on the hip of a couple guys that I thought could really make it to 3:30 with some help. We lost a few more from the group at 18'ish. And by 20 we were down to 5 people. When we past the 20 mile mark I told the guys I'd see them to the finish and committed to running it all the way. So much for an easy workout...
We were holding our pace almost perfectly at 7:56-7:59 from 15-20 and the second half pacer for our group was killing it. He was super positive, coaching, cheering, talking, distracting, tour guiding, etc. He was great.
We lost a few more around 20 miles and I decided to stick to one guy and help him make it. I started talking and motivating more. Encouraging more. Trying to get him to stay hydrated as best as possible at each aid station. But he was starting to get to his limit. Another guy dropped from the group at 21'ish/ But we gained person around this time.
My guy started to struggle at mile 22 and we started to drop off the pace, I stayed with him as the main pacer was doing his work at the front of the group. We lost some time each mile. But still were running strong. We came into the last aid station and he got some water, but couldn't get going again. He was really struggling, but I thought he could make. I stopped and cheered him on and got him to run up to me. We kept going for a little while longer, but his pace turned really slow and BOOM! he hit the wall at 25.25. Like instant walking, not talking, struggling hard. In the moment I made the wrong decision and just encouraged and tried to get him going. I should have grabbed him and started walking with him. But I didn't... I waited and waited and then kept running. Uffhhh. Tough to even type two days later. I then put down a quick sprint to catch the other 3:30 pacer (my best mile of the race) and we finished together. 90 seconds under our goal time with an almost perfect 1:45 second half.
My guy walked in about 7 minutes later and was helped start to the med tent. Ugghhh. On me for pushing him? On me for not staying with him? Anyway - he ended up OK in the end and finished and can say that he really did push himself beyond his limits! I saw a bunch of the other original group finish and we took pictures and smiled and enjoyed the moment.
It was super fun, super rewarding to help other people push hard and finish, kind of weird to cross the finish line of a race and not need to sit down in fear of falling over. My personal hydration and nutrition plan worked great. I was feeling good at the end and was still able to cheer and encourage the whole way. I'd volunteer to do it again. The race was super well organized, weather was amazing, support was good, pacer group was a bunch of great guys and far more talented runners than myself.
Post Race: All the pacer took some group photos, then we went over to the after party and had snacks, clam chowder, some drank beers, chatted and enjoyed the amazing weather. I made the drive home and stopped for a burrito the size of one of my shoes and ate the whole thing with zero guilt. I am sore and stiff today, but far better than yesterday morning. I figure an easy run on Wednesday and I'll start getting back after it.
Summary: If you have the time and energy consider being a pacer! It was way more fun than I thought it might be. I didn't plan to run the whole thing, but I got caught up in the moment and really wanted to see 'my guys' finish! I ended up running a marathon smiling and happy and cheering, and not 100% trashed at the end. Crazy times!

We have a really close couple friend whom we treasure who’s been with us in our life’s milestones. These couple friend planned a beach engagement shoot, their destination is a place we haven’t been to before so we said we’ll join them. First, to have leisure time together as husband & wife and to also help and assist with their shoot (She asked me to do her make up for 2 days). We got really excited so we booked everything on our own expense since we felt that it would also be a little vacation for us, genuinely didn’t expect anything back from them.
Weeks and days before the shoot she said it was totally okay to post about the trip. We took tons of photos and posted those on my stories. BUT when I posted an actual photo post (not story) of me and my husband on the beach she messaged me privately that she was hurt and offended that I did so because it was the background of their supposed engagement photos (obviously because the entire place was the beach). I posted our photos because I thought the photos wouldn’t even compare to theirs and I felt like the photos we took were just generally set on a beach, nothing too distinctive. We were not even dressed up but she said it seemed like our photos were an engagement shoot in itself (because we were all lovey dovey on the photos). Was I wrong to post our photos in the first place?

I’m 6’1” at 16 and although i know there are people much taller than me but it still becomes with it’s problems; i’m really fucking lanky, my posture is fucked and i’ve developed knock knees over the past couple of years.
I used to always be the short kid when i was growing up but then a growth spurt randomly decided to hit me when i was around 14 and grew about a foot it 1.5 years.
At first i loved surpassing all the people who were horrible to me about being short. I have now realised how annoying it is to be tall because i have developed really bad posture and i slouch over when i walk, i also have now developed really painful knees and they point inwards(knock knees). There are also people who always say “i wish i was your height” or the people who just like to get at you for being tall and say how great full i should be for being tall snd how i’ll never understand the struggle of being short even know i was the short kid all through primary snd secondary school.
I used to have a decent physic when i was 14-15 when i was about 5’8” but now it’s just been stretched out and i feel insecure about myself especially my knees because they just make me look really goofy.
I properly noticed i had weird knees in February when i was skiing and my mum took a photo of me standing at the top of a run and i felt really insecure about it because my dad posted it on facebook, i now can’t look at myself in the mirror when i’m undressed without feeling shame because of my stretched out physique.

I've made the vanilla bean blog cinnamon roll recipe a couple of times and it's definitely been my favorite. However, I've been wanting to try the newer recipe from bon appetit/Zaynab Issa because I like the idea of using a tangzhong to up the hydration.
I decided to try this recipe test to see if either one yielded softetastier rolls and to see how long they can maintain their softness. For science, of course.
I made a half recipe for each, staying true to the recipe for dough, but I used the same filling for both (browned butter, however much brown sugar and cinnamon the universe calls me to, pinch of salt) and the same cream cheese icing I usually use (2:1 cream cheese: butter, whatever amount of powdered sugar my heart decides is enough that day, pinch of salt, bit of lemon juice of I have it on hand, vanilla)
The biggest differences in the recipes are that the VBB recipe uses a higher ratio of eggs, honey instead of sugar, an unusual (for cinnamon rolls) mixing method (series of stretch-and-folds rather than kneading a bunch), and an overnight initial rise in the fridge. BA uses a higher-hydration tangzhong dough and a very long time kneading. A lot of reviews on the website mention that their stand mixers couldn't handle it. No overnight rest, so if done by the recipe, it's a 4-5 hour process.
Enough chatter, on to the results!
The process: VBB is easier to put together simply due to not needing to make a tangzhong, but neither is difficult. I only made a half recipe, but my mixer handled the BA dough just fine and it did not take the 18-24 minutes quoted in the recipe to reach windowpane stage, maybe closer to 10-12. I like that VBB had an overnight rest and even an option to shape beforehand and proof overnight in the fridge so you can bake in the morning. I'm sure this can be done with BA's, but it's not mentioned in the recipe. The BA dough was MUCH easier to work with, and also makes a greater amount of dough. This yielded taller rolls, since I made the same quantity with each. I'm not super experienced in shaping cinnamon rolls, but you can see in the photo the difference it makes (BA is more aesthetically pleasing).
Immediate results: Close call! Very similar in softness. VBB puffed up more in the oven like a brioche dough and I found it to be softer and lighter. I also preferred the flavor. The filling was spread over a smaller area, meaning a thicker layer, some of which leaked out. The BA rolls are taller in the photo because they were bigger to begin with (had more dough to work with). They were also very soft and had a better filling distribution since I was able to roll them tighter. My husband preferred BA but was unable to say just why.
Day 2: Both remained surprisingly soft. I'd call it a tie on softness, but VBB wins for me because I like the flavor better.
Day 3: VBB is softer. Still the winner. BA is still quite soft though (only if warmed, pretty stiff when tasted at room temp).
Final thoughts: Both really good recipes that maintain softness longer than most. BA is more beginner-friendly as the dough is so much easier to work with. If you're looking to win a cook-off or something, VBB is the way to go. I still might do more experimenting, I'd like to try the tangzhong method with the more brioche-like dough to see if I can get the best of both worlds.
This turned out much longer than I expected, thanks for reading (or skimming, or whatever)

I’ve typed and deleted this so many times I didn’t even know if I’d ever post it.
Obligatory - this is a throw away so it can’t be connected to me - line
Hubby and I have been married a year. Have 2 kids (5f and 1m) and until recently we’re pretty happy. We’ve had a rough time with our son getting injured and many agencies poking their nose in our business this changing the entire dynamic of our family and marriage. It’s caused stress and a lot of heightened tension so therefore a lot more bickering.
Before this change I always thought our sex life was pretty good (average 1-2 times a week, I didn’t think that was bad with having 2 kids) and from the start of our relationship had an “agreement” In place that neither of us saw porn as bad or cheating as long as it wasn’t impacting our relationship.
With all the stress I will admit the frequency of sexy times has gone down and hubby has rejected me a few times which I put down to exhaustion and stress.
Well a couple of weeks ago I grab hubbys phone to send myself some photos he had taken and forgotten to send me. And upon loading his recent apps (looking for WhatsApp) find a browser open with a secondary Reddit account of just nsfw subs and some random chick full frontal naked. I confronted hubby who at first responded with asking why I was snooping (I wasn’t we regularly use each others phones) and then told me he wasn’t satisfied with how often we were having sex (which had never been communicated before)
It felt like a gut punch as I’d been quite happily assuming hubby was too stressed to have sexy feelings and it turns out he was having them just not directed towards me. He’s told me that he finds it hard to be attracted to me when I’m angry all the time. Part of that anger is stemming from feeling unwanted by my husband (seems like an unbreakable loop)
Me self confidence was low before this but it’s gotten even worse.
I feel beyond hurt and cheated by this. I’ve been trying to move past it but I just don’t know how.
Has anyone had a similar situation or have any advice on how to move past this?

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Growing up on her homeworld, Caly had gotten used to stone walls and cold granite castles sitting atop lonely hills. But, somehow, the orangy-brown blocks of this wall made the fort look more warm and inviting.
Except they couldn’t find the entrance.
They walked around the damn thing three times before Olm spotted the pillar—an old, eroded monument that marked this place as a Synod fort. The words were worn down to smooth, illegible shapes, and half the pillar lay strewn across the path in the sand. There were more signs of a scuffle: smears of black soot on the walls and bullet-marks on the trees. Some of the stones had melted under concentrated plasma fire. There were bullet casings in the sand. She picked one up, inspected the head stamp. No rust. Recent.
Caly pulled her rifle into position. Olm already had one hand on his chest, ready to open his armor, and his Hammer hand was clenched around the gloves controls. She scanned the branches above, searched the walls. Nothing but the breeze.
They found the door, a heavy wooden thing. Neither of them talked as they approached. A scream, high and shrill, pierced the silence. It was coming from inside the fort—the scream kept going for what felt like minutes, and then all was silent.
Olm nodded at the heavy, wooden door embedded in the stone wall.
“Me first?” she asked.
He gave her a look that said, “You wanted to do this.” So, Caly sucked in her breath, and approached the door—her rifle at the ready.
She was debating whether or not to knock when a slat slid open.
“Dropping off?” a muffled voice crowed through the slat, “Or picking up?” The voice sounded almost metallic, like the speaker was talking through a tin can with holes in it.
Caly had to stoop down to the to see two eyes peering back at her through a pair of goggles that magnified the eyes to a ridiculous level.
“I… what?”
The magnified eyes blinked rapidly, adjusting to Caly’s face. “Well, you don’t look like a child, unless they grow that tall where you come from. So, I figure you’re either here to drop one off or pick one up. Which is it?”
“We’re looking for the orphanage-”
“Orphanarium,” the voice said, suddenly irate.
“Orphanarium?”
“Out here, orphanages are for the unwanted. And I don’t believe there’s such thing as an unwanted child—excuse me a moment. Tomick, you ankle-biting he-demon, get down from there!”
Caly turned away, and whispered so that only Olm could hear, “That explains the screaming.”
“Maybe,” Olm said. Caly noted his hand was still clenched in his glove.
“What are you saying? Hold on,” the voice grunted from the other side of the door. Then, a deadbolt clunked, knocking a layer of dust off the door. Caly started to move forward, but Olm put a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head, and pointed at himself. Then, he pushed open the door, slowly. Took a few cautious steps in, craning his head up at the walls. She heard him trip, and catch himself. Heard him let out a disbelieving, “Whoa.”
Then, an animal snarl. Olm yelped.
Someone screamed back—Gran, Caly assumed—but she wasn’t shouting at Olm. “Tomick, what did we say about biting? Bite food, not people!”
Caly shoved the door all the way open, planning to set the place alight with plasma bolts. She blinked at the mess.
A crowd of toys—stuffed animals and homemade dolls—were lined up in front of the door. They were sitting there, in various states of repose, in various states of destruction (missing eyes, fur, horns, limbs, some deflated from a lack of stuffing, some with caved in heads, some with nothing but their head), all staring up at the door, as if someone had put them there while waiting for Caly and Olm enter. More projects littered the courtyard—a scarecrow made of sticks, wearing an enforcer’s helmet, a pile of misshapen pottery drying in the sun, and Olm, waving his arm back and forth, trying to shake a child-sized xeno off his forearm. Yes, the child’s teeth were as large as icicles, but they utterly failed to pierce Olm’s stony skin, and Olm seemed more bewildered than pained.
“How do I get him off?”
“I can’t apologize for that one,” Gran called from somewhere out of view, “He’s teething. His kind gets like that at that age. It’s the only reason he gets his own bedroom, though if you believe the others, it’s an outrage. A scandal. Of course, he’d probably bite them to death if I wasn’t watching—Tomick, I’m going to give you to the count of three—”
Olm shook his arm, and there was a scraping sound as the child’s jaws slid down his wrist and fell off. The little xeno smacked the ground with an audible “Uff.” When the kid put a clawed hand to his mouth, his eyes went wide, and he cried out, “I ‘hipped my ‘hooth!”
“Well, whose fault is that?” Gran asked, not even looking at him.
Olm’s eyes went wide. He started to apologize when Gran stopped him, “They grow back. I swear, I could start a bone jewelry business.”
Red walls ringed the yard, with little apartments built into each one. A tower lorded over all, and on the opposite side a gathering hall frowned down on her. Dust covered everything, and slashes of dried mud painted one side of the hall, along with countless other stains, scratches, burn marks, and pieces of slightly-crinkled paper covered in scribbles and brightly-colored shapes. Xeno children from every corner of the Synod crawled around the walls—running, shrieking, being shrieked at, and in general causing chaos. They were all so dust covered that, despite the difference in species, Caly thought they all looked like siblings.
And at the epicenter of this chaos stood Gran. She stood proud and short, and covered in foliage: long vines draped down her head and were gathered in a long knot that hung down her back, and heavy leaves were draped over her shoulders, a cape fastened together with sunflower stalks. More vines draped down her front, so that Caly almost didn’t notice that her skin was metalwork. And her face—all tarnished chrome, just flexible enough to frown. Those weren’t goggles on her eyes, those were her eyes. She’s not a xeno, Caly realized. She’s Made.
Gran pointed at Caly with a broom, “Careful with the gun,” said in that inorganic voice, “The kids get … clingy. Don’t ask me how, but if they get their paws on it, it will make it sticky.”
On one hip, she carried a basket that held one infant with a thumb in its mouth, and in her other arm she had a broom, and in between sweeps, she hollered stern commands at the worst offenders. “Kairen, quit hitting your sister! Gola, quit making your sister hit you!” One kid, sobbing, came up to her, and after a series of indecipherable blubbering words, Gran said softly, “Oh, no, sweety, you don’t need heart surgery. It’s okay if you swallowed it. Where did you get gum anyway?”
Through all this, the baby on her hip slept so soundly, its eyes never once opened.
“Jessup! Tucian! Get down here and help me get these dust devils off to the well!”
Two xeno children, older than the others, peeled off from their huddle on the walls, and started gathering the younger ones.
Gran addressed both Caly and Olm without taking her eyes off the kids, “Well, as I was asking—Larold, if I see you climbing that tower one more time, what did I say would happen?—are you dropping off your—” Gran lowered her voice, “Your unwanted. Or are you here because you want to adopt one of these fine and promising future members of society.”
Caly swept her gaze across the courtyard. Tomick, that child with the saber teeth, was gnawing on a rock now, trying to shorten his unbroken tooth to match the broken one. Next to him, a three-fingered prackian child (at least, Caly thought she was a prackian) was running with a pot wedged onto her head, banging it with a wooden spoon in a way that had to hurt.
“Actually,” Caly said, “We’re looking for someone who might’ve come through here—”
“Gran!” a pair of insectoid twins chittered and tugged on Gran’s leafy frock, “We did all our chores.”
“Already?” Gran said doubtfully.
The twins bobbed their heads in unison. “I mopped.”
“I swept!”
“And we changed all the sheets.”
Gran set the broom aside and kneeled low, still holding that sleeping infant on her hip. She patted one of the insectoids on the head, her demeanor suddenly as soft as a cloud. “Well, look at you two. Give me three minutes, please, and I’ll get it from the beehive. Now, where was I?” Gran’s goggled eyes irising as they refocused on Caly, “Oh, yes. Dropping off or picking up?”
Eagerly, she looked from Caly, to Olm, and back to Caly.
“Uh,” Olm said.
Eagerness faded into disappointment. “Oh, who am I kidding?” Gran said, “Nobody ever comes to pick them up.” With her free hand, she pulled one of the twins close and covered both his ear holes, “Nobody wants these kids. They come here, they make promises to return when times are a little less tough. It’s all lies, though I don’t tell them that.”
The other twin blinked up at her with huge, buggy, innocent eyes, only vaguely aware he wasn’t supposed to be hearing this.
“But,” Gran sighed, making a sound like a heat vent set to max, “I supposed that’s the way of things. Not many care about the unwanted. All I can do is what I’ve always done: take them in and give them a piece of what they deserve. So, where’s yours then? Skip the lies, I’ll take them all the same.”
“Er,” Olm said.
“Where is what?” Caly asked.
“The baby,” Gran said, “The one you don’t want. This is an Orphanarium, you know. People leave their children stranded across the desert sands, and I take those poor precious innocent little—Larold, put! It! Down!”
A child on the other side of the courtyard had found two hover engines, just big enough to propel a child’s bike, and had hooked them up to either end of a plumber’s pipe. The engines fed back and forth through the pipe, superheating the pipe until it glowed red. The pipe started to vibrate in mid-air, and one of the engines shot off, spraying plasma against a wall, and melting a hole in it. It might’ve been Caly’s imagination, but when Gran howled at the disobedient child, the leaves on her head seemed to stand on end, creating a kind of thorny headdress that only served to enunciate her outrage. Larold put the tube down and had enough awareness to look ashamed
“What was I saying?” Gran asked. Her head leaves came back to rest, and the wrinkles around her goggles and mouth softened, letting the rusted lines fall back into place.
“Isn’t it dangerous for him to play with that?” Caly asked, distracted by the high-pitched whine still coming from the other engine.
“Sorry, Miss Gran,” Olm said. “We didn’t bring a child.”
“Then how do you expect to give one up for adoption?” Gran asked, as if Olm was being thick-headed.
“We don’t.” Caly said.
“Oh?” The pupils in Gran’s magnified goggles suddenly swelled, and like a magnet finding metal, she was suddenly at Caly’s side. “Does that mean you’re here to—” and she whispered with far too much hope, “adopt one?”
“No.”
“Oh…”
“We’re looking for someone. He came this way.”
Gran withdrew, suddenly suspicious.
“Don’t know anyone who came this way,” the old machine woman said. “Don’t know nothing about anything except keeping these kids alive.”
One of the insect twins tugged insistently on her frond-dress. “What about Tawf, Gran? He waf here yefterday!”
Gran hissed at him, “They didn’t ask you, Maruhn-”
“I’m Ramuhn. He’f Maruhn—” the beetle child pointed at his brother, who was staring blankly ahead, mouth hanging dumbly open, his ear holes were still covered by Gran’s hands.
“Ramuhm, I’m sorry. Why don’t you—”
“And,” Ramuhn continued, “There waf thofe big people with the bikef and the gunf. Remember? They tried to break down the door. And Tawf made them run and we all cheered. I like Tawf. When if he coming back?”
“Ramuhn, please.”
“Whose this Taws?” Olm asked, his deep voice rumbling through their hissing argument. Gran and the beetle child looked up at him. Bored, the one with his ears covered started bobbing his head back and forth.
“This Taws,” Caly said, “Is he a human?”
The sudden white swiveling of Gran’s goggled eyes was all the answer she needed.
Gran frowned. She handed the infant on her hip to one of the older kids, and told the twins to run along. She waited until the yard was empty, all the children gone who knew where.
“You won’t find him here,” Gran said, her voice sharp and metallic. “In fact, you won’t find him at all. I told him to leave it alone. I told him. But I’ve never seen someone so naive. So stupid. His head’s full of noble ideas, and I don’t know how he made it out this far without getting his behind handed to him. But there’s something about him. He’s got his ways. Why, just the other day he brought me a whole sack full of—” Gran blinked, suddenly reluctant to say more. Caly and Olm already knew.
“Money,” Caly said. “A sack full of synars, wasn’t it?”
“For the children,” Gran said. “I don’t know where he got it, and I don’t intend to ask questions. Crowns know it’s going to a precious cause. I saved his life, and now, he’s determined to save mine, the fool.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yole,” Gran said bitterly, and Caly felt her stomach tighten involuntarily.
Even Olm held his breath.
It was said Yole was one of the first pioneers on New Nowhere, who got lost in the northern wastes. It was said she was a ghost, a curse made flesh and blood. Neither were true. But when everyone said she was mad, that was true. Yole, whoever she was, had taken up residence in the loneliest Spirine in all of New Nowhere. She lived, not on the land around the Spirine, but inside the thing.
Despite her solitude, the woman’s funds seemed nearly bottomless. She paid a premium for services, and for years attracted the most desperate people from far and wide. Those who came back from her private Spirine, came back strange. Incomplete. Missing more than just a few memories.
“Thought the Spirine had finally done her in,” Gran said. “Hadn’t heard nothing about Yole in years. That is, until a few months back. She’s hired new blood. Bad blood. They take what they can, and burn what they can’t. Only Blacktree and a couple halfway stops have escaped their evil. And me, of course.”
“We saw signs of battle,” Caly said.
“Yep. That was them. Yole’s people—I don’t know what got into their heads—but they thought they’d steal from a poor old lady like me. I told Taws not to make a fuss. I told him to give over the money, but he kept saying something about how he wasn’t going to let ‘it’ happen again, whatever ‘it’ is. That fool’s never been right since I found him. He’s got a heart in him, made of something more precious than gold, but he must’ve lost half his mind when he crashed on the rocks. And I’m not so sure about the other half, neither.”
“What did he do to Yole’s people?”
“Don’t know, and didn’t ask. I took the children inside, and we hid, and the sounds we heard, by the stars and the void between, it wasn’t like nothing I never heard before. Taws came back up this way, his arms black like he’d been playing in gunpowder.”
“Maybe it was blood,” Caly said, “What color is human blood?”
“He didn’t seem hurt. And I didn’t hear from Yole’s kind either. I haven’t let the kids out of the fort’s walls since Taws left, because I’m afraid to find out.”
Caly thought over it. She hadn’t seen any bodies where they’d come in. Just signs of battle. And those black smears.
“Where’d he go?”
Gran only shook her head.
“Look,” Caly said. “I need to find him. I’ll pay you whatever—”
“You won’t hurt him,” Gran said.
“I … We weren’t … I mean, I wasn’t—”
“It wasn’t a question. And I don’t need your money to tell you he’s already gone. He left yesterday. Poor fool chose the dark way down. I told him not to go, but he said he knew Yole’s kind. He said she would just keep coming back. Poor fool.” Gran sniffed quietly. Excused herself, and wiped her metal nose on the fronds of her frock.
“He went to Yole’s place?” Olm asked.
Gran nodded, quietly.
Olm sighed his resignation. “Guess that’s that.”
Caly looked at him, her fists clenched at her sides.
“You don’t come back from Yole’s place. And even if you do, you don’t. Not really, anyway. The Mad Queen’s contagious.”
“Maybe if we go to Zyroc empty-handed,” Olm suggested, “We could beg. Or maybe head back to Yonder and see if the Bitter King’s forgotten about what happened.”
“No.”
Olm cocked his head sideways at her, cords of muscle tautening in his neck, cracks in his skin glinting in the late afternoon light. “No?”
“The Bitter King doesn’t forget. The Bitter King will kill us.”
“And Mad Yole won’t?”
“I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than go begging at Zyroc’s ugly feet.”
“Then … ?”
Caly pulled Olm to the side, just outside of Gran’s hearing. It wasn’t necessary—Gran was busy shouting at a batch of orphans who were peeking over the walls, trying to eavesdrop. A girl with a white lines on her skin and a leafy frock that was so large it dragged on the ground was mimicking the older woman’s every move, a tiny shouting replica of Gran.
“I’m going to get our money back,” Caly said.
“You’re … going to steal from the orphans?”
“Of course, I’m not going to steal from the orphans!” Caly hissed. Up on the walls, the kids blinked down at her. She lowered her voice, “Just because I’m couran doesn’t mean I’m a heartless monster. You heard her—he only left a day ago. We can catch him before he gets anywhere near Yole’s place. We find him, he pays us, and then he can run off and die.”
Olm put a fist under his chin, thinking hard. “But he gave it all to Gran.”
Caly scoffed, “Nobody’s that generous. Not out here. Not anywhere.”
Olm inclined his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
“Besides,” Caly continued. “There’s a principle at stake. Nobody steals from a daughter of the House of B—”
“Technically, he didn’t steal from you. If anything, you were the one trying to rob him.”
She glowered.
“Oh,” Olm said. “You were trying to have a—thingy. Sorry.”
“Forget it.”
“What do they call it? An ego trip?”
Caly, fuming, stomped off, not wanting to see the smile that cracked Olm’s face.
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She said yes! Just wanted to drop by and thank all those who helped provide ideas last week. Our couple days in Charleston were absolutely amazing. We did so many activities from the beach at isle of palms, cruising to Fort Sumpter, checking out the uss Yorktown, walking miles and miles of downtown, went down the Pitt street Bridge, and of course the proposal at magnolia plantation! What a beautiful place. The white bridge wasn't crowded and I was able to successfully propose with no mishaps. I can't wait to visit charleston again in the future, every person I met was extremely friendly and kind (other than the people trying to take money donations from handmade roses). Side request if anyone knows where I can order a large canvas or picture of the white bridge at magnolia id like to purchase one for my home. Thanks Again everyone!

went to a wedding a couple months ago and got the photos through today. literally feel so grossed out and sad by how i look in every single photo, i genuinely can’t stand to look at them which is sad because i was a bridesmaid. feels crappy. :(

>**What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using.**
* I will be using it for gaming, emulation, maybe VR in the future, and for casual browsing/multitasking. I'd like to get into playing more intensive games, the current laptop I have now isn't able to run many games outside of low-intensity games like Valorant (at 30 fps), Terraria, etc. In dire need of an upgrade due to the performance just lacking in every aspect. I'd like to play at a minimum of 1080p on High or above in some games with 60+ fps.
>**What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?**
* $800 - $900 USD
>**When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.**
* Some time within a couple of weeks
>**What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ToweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc\)**
* Just the Tower
>**Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?**
* US with no Microcenter near my location
>**If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated.**
* Coming from an old laptop so not reusing anything besides a mouse
>**Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?**
* Not overclocking
>**Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)**
* Not particularly, but I will require an SSD with at least 1TB of storage and at least 16GB of ram for gaming
>**Do you have any specific case preferences (Size like ITX/microATX/mid-towefull-tower, styles, colors, window or not, LED lighting, etc), or a particular color theme preference for the components?**
* Not picky
>**Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? If you do need one included, do you have a preference?**
* Will not need a copy of Windows
>**Extra info or particulars:**