TW: Animal death, mental health, self-harm, eating disorders.
Hi, this is my first time posting and please do not judge until you've read my whole post - I could really use some help.
For context: I (29F) started dating my partner (30M) about 3 months ago and we fell for each other quickly, he is very loving and kind and the healthiest person that has come into my life for a long time. Before we started dating I had planned to adopt a cat from a local shelter, as I have struggled a lot with mental health issues including binge eating disorder, depression and suicidal thoughts - causing me to leave my job in Autumn 2022 and take a pay cut to become a home based freelancer, as I didnt even have the energy to get out of bed and shower some days. As I love cats and have owned a cat previously I thought caring for a fur baby would make both myself and the furball happy - me providing a loving home and cuddles to a kitty and them giving me a reason to get up and feel happier everyday as I get to take care of and bond with an animal.
So, 3 weeks ago I brought home the cutest grey and white 1.5yr old tomcat who was previously a streetcat and we instantly bonded and loved spending time with each other, with him giving affectionate headbutts and sitting on everyone he met to demand hugs. My partner was also there with him from Day 1 as he helped me pick him up from the shelter and loves animals as much as I do - so he obviously got a lot of cuddles and love from both of us. As I said, he's the best (both the cat and my BF).
However, after about 2 weeks at mine he got into a fight with another cat resulting in an injured paw, which I quickly took him to the vets for and was treated - although he wasn't happy about wearing the cone of shame and had to be continuously monitored, meaning I had to miss a family friends wedding, which I got flack for. On the Monday though, he looked very lethargic and violently threw up despite his medication so I rushed him in again to the vet the next day. He had previously had a UTI before living with me and was fully treated by the slehter, but now had a major bladder blockage and was rushed into surgery and kept for several days. After a few days, they said the damage to his Kidneys was too severe and had to be put down - a complete shock to myself and my immediate circle who I had told about him, as he was so young and I'd only had him for less than a month. I was devastated and lost my goddamn mind, with me having to say goodbye to him 3 days ago with my partner by my side, both of us crying and making sure he knew he was loved and cuddled and giving him lots of treats and love until he passed. I also had to pay over 2k in treatment and cremation costs right after he was gone, which felt like a gut punch as not only had I lost my furry best friend who I grew to love even in such a short time, but the insurance wouldn't cover it as technically the UTI was a previous condition and the insurance I was provided with from the shelter didn't cover it - draining my savings which I needed as I search for a more stable job - wrecking my mental health again. So really just a universal slap in the face from every direction.
Now, as I just feel so bereft at this unfortunate series of events and trying to process everything - my partner tells me he has decided to adopt a border collie/german shepherd cross puppy from his two friends who had a surprise litter, after being persuaded by them and also being a huge animal lover like myself. Although I am so happy for him as I know they'll find such joy in living together and forming the best bond ever, a horrible side of me is very angry and sad that my partner is now going to get to have the relationship with his fur baby that I never got to have with mine and I feel so desperately sad and guilty at these thoughts. I am going to be totally supportive and of course can't wait to have puppy cuddles, but everytime I think about it at the back of my mind I have a horrible pang of anger, jealousy and sadness which I wish wouldn't be there as I only want them both to find the loving bond I did with my adorable kitty, if even only for a short time. I thought I;d post here as I've never been good at processing grief and thought it'd help to write it out, as I want to be as supportive as possible and don't want to put an emotional burden onto his happy time by fully unloading.
Thanks for reading as I know this was long and I wish everyone and their furry, scaly, swimming and insect babies a long and happy time together <3

someone had an extra bag they gave to me, but it came from their basement and had mold or mildew on it. normally i'd say "no thanks" but i need a bag this huge, it's about 40" x 18" x 18" :-) So i want to salvage it.
I just sprayed it with original pine sol (kills bacteria etc.) I dont even know if it's gonna fit in my washer, but if it does, should I wash it with white vinegar and detergent, or pine sol and detergent? borax? baking soda? and then should i air dry, or put in dryer to kill anything?
or should i forget laundry machine and soak it in the tub instead? i see different ideas here too but wonder what is best. in that post, they were just trying to get rid of smell.
i am hoping not just to get rid of any smells but to kill any potential mold or mildew. in appearance, it is hard to tell if it's dirt or mildew/mold but i smelled it and it definitely isn't just dirt. smells like basement....

Tw: suicide
I was going to do it. I swear to whatever God there is, I was going to do it. I had everything planned, even a backup plan. I was in school when I decided, and wanted make my last day the best day for my friends. A good last memory with them. I skipped a few classes. Spent time with them, comforted one when she needed it. Left everyone with some final good last words to me. I even told them I loved them, final words. I did some crazy things that day because I thought who cared? It be over soon. I made promises for days and weeks later, thinking I wouldn’t see myself doing it. And in my lowest point of all my crying when I was alone, the world never seemed so beautiful. The air was clean and fresh and the sky was as blue and clear as it had ever been in weeks. The temperature was perfect, and the flowers, man the flowers were bright and colorful. Full of life. I hadn’t laughed so hard with my two friends in an entire week. I hadn’t smiled so much. I never knew when you thought about going forever, the world tried to give you reasons to stay.

My boyfriend has been cheating off and on since we've had our second child. I’ve been given him chance, after chance because he'll tell me changed and he love me and our family. We have four kids together (7,6,3,2) we don't have anymore kids, but I got pregnant again. Around Christmas my daughter told me that her dad had a girl in the house. He tell her not to tell me because mommy would be sad .She told me she was scared . and she didn't know what to do and she begged me not to tell... I asked her what did the lady look like and she told me she had blonde hair and was skinny and they went upstairs. Later that day, when my husband went to work after hiding cameras around the house. I have to work Christmas Eve because I work at a hospital. I got a notification from my phone so I went in the bathroom to watch the live feed. My husband was having sex with someone on our couch I was so devastated. I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want people to ask me what was wrong. I felt so embarrassed, I feel so ashamed. When I came home from work, I confronted him I showed him the video he was he looked at me and said " you caught me what do you want me to sav?" I have no words to sav I didn't wanna make a scene because the next day was Christmas but I cut up all his clothes and burn all his shoes. Four months has passed and he wasn't trying to have sex with me. Our anniversary had came up and he still didn't wanna have sex with me. He told me that he was celibate because he was trying to find God. I was foolish enough to believe him. And so I got a phone call from the health department, telling me that a person that I had been intimate with is HIV positive. I had to make an appointment to get tested. I was crying because the only person I've been with for so many years with my husband I've never cheated. So I call my husband and called him he told me was delusional if would ever think that he will ever hide something like that from me. Days has past. I went to the doctor to get tested I was there for about almost an hour. They asked me to write down a list of people that I have sex with, and it was only one name. They came back with so many needles and I started crying. I couldn't breathe, and I start hyperventilating. They had to take me outside so I can get some air. After my test came back negative they told me he had known for months..I was so lost. I didn't know what to do and I didn't know how to confront him. When I confronted him, he asked me what do you want me to say... with the line in the pass cannot be changed. He's trying to change his life and I should be happy. He told me he got it from the girl from Christmas Eve he told me that he didn't think it was a big of a deal to tell me because we wasn't having sex. A month has passed in I have been being mean to him he’s been sleeping in the guest room and I recently I been talking to him because I feel bad he sleeps in my bed again I feel like we can get pass this but every time I look at him I’m just reminded of him cheating and getting something I’m lost if what I should do and can’t talk to family because I don’t want them looking at him differently.

ATP Singles

Jarry vs Ruud :

If you watched Geneva last week, you saw the scariest version of Nicolas Jarry that the tour has ever seen. He’s always been a dominant server, but his baseline game seems to have become consistent out of nowhere. That consistency hasn’t come at the expense of his aggressive shot selection either. Somehow, Jarry is ballin and it is a welcome sight.
At the same time that Jarry leveled up, Casper Ruud began finding his form again. He’s been such a consistent performer at times that when he loses, the whole conversation is about him. It all started with a lopsided loss to Shelton in Cincinnati last season. We now see that this is not so bad. He’s lost as a favorite against Daniel, Arnaldi, Struff, and Garin. These losses may seem like issues, but I think it’s just very difficult to maintain a high level on tour. Burnout is real, and we don’t always know the physical condition and motivation of the players. It’s a bit out of character for Ruud, because he has always taken a very professional approach to matches, but as he gets a few major finals and a number of 250 titles under his belt, the pressure of expectations fades. If he never wins another match, his legacy as top player on tour is already cemented. At this point, it’s entirely feasible that his team is looking to peak at the majors, since that would be the last big feather in his cap.
Ruud is playing near his best tennis this week, despite dropping a few sets on the way here. Zhizhen Zhang has become a mainstay on tour which is a pretty great transition from the Challenger level, but him winning a set against Ruud isn’t cause for alarm bells for me. Zhang has a very powerful serve and goes huge on his groundstrokes, so at times he’s just going to be unplayable, and more importantly he’s the type of opponent who is more dangerous on a big point. Jarry is going to bring a similar level of pressure and risk, and after winning in three heroic sets in Geneva he’ll be feeling confident here.
The market for this one opened with Ruud at -214, and it has gone all the way down to -173. I disagree. These are slower conditions, Jarry has played a lot of tennis in the past few weeks, and Ruud is playing well behind his forehand. Jarry’s backhand is more dangerous here, but it feels like a spot where he is even at best. Just considering that Ruud has been given a ton of footage to review with his team makes me think he might return a bit better, and the slower conditions mean the rapid fire baseline rallies they exchanged in Geneva (ultra fast conditions for clay) will be a bit more subdued. We’ve all seen these conditions lend the more stable player an edge as matches drag on, and I think that will be the case here. Jarry’s serve and power can’t be dismissed in straight sets, but I think that this will be an extreme physical test and that Ruud’s ability to create off his forehand will be very useful once both players are tired. Ruud in 5.

Rune vs Cerundolo :

Rune had a simple match against a very similar but weaker player, and he made it look easy. Olivieri couldn’t really get anything going, and Rune was able to remain neutral in rallies until he got a full swing. Once he did, it was usually only 2-3 shots before the point was over. Him being so technically sound makes it really hard for players without a big offense to beat him. It just becomes a matter of whether Rune will put in the work, and his strength and conditioning are very good, and his energy levels are Space Jam stuff at times. Here he has a difficult task, but one I think he can handle. These two met in 2019, with Cerundolo winning in straights. They are two entirely different players now though, and it’s Rune who looks much sharper now.
Cerundolo had a tough test in Taylor Fritz, but I thought fatigue would be the way he lost. He seemed fresh throughout, and that made life very difficult on Fritz. I don’t love Taylor’s demeanor on court when he’s losing, he’s very emotive and complains about the conditions and bad bounces and overall it just gives a lot of belief to an opponent. If you are easily moved by emotions, it’s better to sort of hold it together until it bubbles over. One, because it will gradually let you practice not being so reactive. Two, because a real big rageout scream or racquet smash can change momentum and rattle an opponent. It’s not classy, but when you’re already losing, anything that changes the feel of the match in the court has potential to help. Whining does very little, and the crowd in Paris is not a big fan of that at all. The crowd was fairly respectful, and Fritz’s shushing from his match against Rinderknech did not seem to be an issue with them. McEnroe remarked that most of the fans were probably unfamiliar with Fritz, which is actually absurd, but standard.
The Tennis Channel team does not seem to actively follow the tour, and their view of things is almost always a bit reductive and puzzling. McEnroe also did not seem to know that they had changed the balls this year, and honestly I wind up muting tennis audio far too often because of announcers. It makes it really refreshing actually to hear Gil Gross working a match. Is this an article about Gil Gross? Maybe. Gross seems like a kid who would insist on telling me that baby carrots are actually made from full-sized carrots, but the effort he puts into analyzing tennis and respecting the game is much appreciated. He actually was mid-sentence and said “and I’ll hold that thought because play is about to resume.” What? Unheard of. Announcers not talking over the rallies? Announcers not telling us exactly what we just saw? Announcers teaching us about tennis technique and matchup issues? Announcers not … talking … with weird pauses … because they think … that’s what announcers do? Announcers not leaving out half their sentences because they think we’re listening along to their internal monologue? Announcers who are familiar with the players on tour outside the top 100? Wow. Just wow. Anyway, Gil seems like he’d be fun to do a puzzle with, and I’m glad that he’s getting somewhere in the tennis world because he really seems like a fan of the game.
I don’t think Cerundolo can win this match. Against Fritz, he dominated things behind his dropshot and forehand. Fritz moves forward poorly on clay, something I honestly didn’t realize. He won nearly no rallies where Cerundolo used it. At the same time, he couldn’t get to Cerundolo’s forehand, so what was he covering? The reason he fell victim to both these balls is because he had zero variation on his backhand. Usually when I’m griping about Fritz, I exaggerate a bit, but I don’t think I saw him hit one backhand up the line during a neutral rally. He just kept trying to infuse a little bit of depth and height cross-court, but it became predictable very early on. The backhand up the line is bad because it opens up the cross-court forehand for Cerundolo, but you still have to hit it a good enough chunk of the time to keep your opponent from camping in the backhand corner, which is what Francisco did for the entire match. This just won’t be an option against Rune, because he has a way better backhand than Fritz, and because he has the speed to run down dropshots. He’s also a clay specialist in terms of his background, so he’ll be comfortable in long rallies where Taylor wasn’t.
I think Cerundolo is the Fritz in this matchup, because he has a ton of power but I think he has to look to score all his own points. Rune is fresh, and won’t give him many unforced errors. This should be a very close match in terms of the scoreline, but I think Rune’s speed and stability get him through here. Rune in 4.

Etcheverry vs Nishioka :

Nishioka and Seyboth Wild put on a great show. The Brazilian phenom ran out of gas, but he really gave us a ton of excitement in the first week of this event. For Yoshihito, these points are incredibly useful. He doesn’t have many clay points from last season at all, so this gives him a good chance to improve his ranking in the hardcourt season where he’s sure to win a handful of matches in the hot conditions. I usually find myself talking about what a great result people are having once their tournament is over, and I do think this is Nishioka’s last round. He’s been winning by outlasting his opponent, and there does not seem to be an end to Etcheverry. Coric and Etcheverry were expected to play an exhausting contest, and they did. The difference in power was clear from the start though. Etcheverry plays like a baseliner but he’s 6‘5” and he is really crushing the ball at this tournament. Coric hung tough, but he just couldn’t get a ball by him.
Etcheverry will need to be patient in this match, but I think he can break down Nishioka’s forehand. The loopy returns work well against shorter players, but Etcheverry should be able to lean into them since he’s a bit taller. His edge on serving is also huge, his delivery was a big key in keeping him fresh while Coric struggled to hold serve without putting in a ton of work. Nishioka is crushing his backhand, and that flat pace could prove a bit tough for the taller player, but I don’t see it winning him the match. Overall, I just think these guys have been competing in two different weight classes thus far, and Etcheverry is the pick. Etcheverry in 3-4.

Dimitrov vs Zverev :

Dimitrov is the ultimate trickster. Just when we think he’s too injury prone or too Dimitrov to be a threat on tour, he breaks out his best tennis. He’s been lights out this week, dismissing contenders in good form in a way that throughout most of his career he has never done. This is probably his best chance to beat Zverev, but the last 3 matches have gone Zverev’s way. If I had to guess, it’s because Zverev’s backhand is so stable. He doesn’t really go for a lot with it most of the time, and that means against Dimitrov’s slice he’s completely safe. If we eliminate danger on one wing entirely, then it’s forehands and serves. Zverev’s serve has double fault issues, and his location is poor, but he has a ton of power and returning it is easier said than done. Dimitrov has a huge edge on the forehand here, and he’s using that remarkably well this week.
It’s hard to watch Zverev play and think he’s going to beat Dimitrov. Him and Tiafoe played a solid match, and Tiafoe is a great player, but it wasn’t high quality stuff. The rallies seemed slow, both players seemed to be concentrating (and unfortunately not concentrating) on technique and on hitting the court. The wind and slower conditions just made the game seem slow, and I think the pace ended up frustrating Tiafoe into errors. Dimitrov has the ability to infuse pace off both wings and he’s been doing so this week. It’s the sort of match that I think Zverev is at risk of becoming frozen in. If Dimitrov can get the first set, I think he can win. Grigor has proven to be a dangerous frontrunner this week, and Zverev can get a little deer-in-the-headlights if he’s behind in the scoreline or if his serve isn’t working. I do think Zverev has been a bit more aggressive since his return from injury, so this should be pretty even in my eyes. In classic Dimitrov prankster style though, he has me thinking he’s going to win. Dimitrov in 4-5.

WTA Singles

Swiatek vs Tsurenko :

Ok Iga. I see that you are reading these. After predicting that Wang’s power and offense would get her 6 games, Swiatek chose to deny her a single game. I don’t think I’ve seen this type of blowout tennis ever. 0 games, to someone who beat a solid mid-tier tour player in Peterson. It makes my job easy here, because who can possible beat Swiatek? Rybakina is out of the tournament, everyone else is having to work extremely hard to win their matches, and Swiatek is going to be completely fresh for the quarterfinals. She has a tricky opponent here, because Tsurenko has beaten Krejcikova and Andreescu, but what does it matter? We are left wondering how many games Tsurenko can win, and if we have time to make a sammich and still make it back in time to catch the first set.
Tsurenko is very solid, and moves the ball well. Picture an Alize Cornet with a little more power and a bit less physicality. She’ll be a good opponent for Swiatek because there’ll be fewer unforced errors than Wang made, but it feels like Swiatek is not going to lose to her own errors and Tsurenko can’t serve well enough to hold onto any leads she may get. Swiatek in 2, with Tsurenko winning 4-5 games.

Sorribes Tormo vs Haddad Maia :

Puzzling line on this one as Sorribes Tormo is at just +120 for the match. I expected something more like +160. SST has been given a walkover after Rybakina withdrew with an illness. Haddad Maia had to play an extra match and it was a war with Alexandrova that she barely won, but I think she’s more well equipped to score in this matchup. Tormo has every shot in the book, and will extend rallies, but her serve isn’t as strong as Haddad Maia’s, and she doesn’t really hit the ball hard enough to get through the court. I’m guessing I don’t see something here, as SST has won the last few matches between the pair, and they’re ranked 120 spots apart so there’s a matchup issue I’m not seeing. Very hesitant to go with my gut on this one, but Haddad Maia has the defensive ability to hang even with Sorribes Tormo, and I think her forehand will give her the ability to create as the match drags on. Haddad Maia in 3.

Schmiedlova vs Gauff :

There have been a lot of matches this week where things were decided early. Both players seem very willing to engage in extended baseline rallies in the early going, but as one player proves slightly more resilient, their opponents have slowly deviated into trying to generate offense on more and more shots. This might be a decent plan B on hardcourt, but it’s near impossible on clay. If you could just smoke the ball and create angles and hit through the court, you’d be doing it as plan A, and you’d be a top 5 player. As it happened today, Kayla Day turned towards forcing things a bit. Schmiedlova was very steady to start the match and she hits a bit bigger than Day, so it wasn’t the worst choice, but it resulted in the scoreline getting out of hand quickly. In the second, Day made some progress and broke back a few times, but she couldn’t get ahead in rallies and that makes holding serve in the WTA very difficult because almost everyone on tour is tremendous returner.
Gauff had a ridiculously tough test in round one. Mirra Andreeva is so technically sound at such a young age. She really was slightly better in the first set because of it. Gauff made a few neutral ball errors that Andreeva just didn’t. It was clear though that Gauff was the bigger hitter. After winning the first in a thrilling tiebreak, Gauff was a bit looser. Having the pressure of the lead gone can be tough, but it also lets you swing freer. It became clear that Andreeva couldn’t hit through Gauff, and the match became a lopsided affair. This is the big hallmark of Gauff’s game, improving as the match goes on. Her training is great to be so strong physically, and her backhand, when she lets it fly, is a laser. If you let the ball get above her elbow height, she’s likely to just hit a clean winner. This next match is tricky because it’ll take a long time, but Gauff should be slightly stronger again. Schmiedlova has been playing solid tennis but she’s been the bigger hitter in most of the matches, and here it’s even. Expecting Gauff to win in two close sets.

Pera vs Jabeur :

This is a career changing run from Bernarda Pera. The clay ELO is proving accurate here, as she was able to outlast Elisabetta Cocciaretto in a wildly thrilling match. In the end, she was just a little more able to win short points, and her forehand cross is proving to be a big weapon when she’s on her game. It’s a big ask for her to beat Jabeur with that shot, especially since Ons has just gotten some invaluable training against another lefty. Olga Danilovic managed to push things to a third, but the problem with winning behind a big offense on clay becomes clear in a third. Jabeur has a ton of power and experience, and she’s fairing well this week. I do think that if Danilovic can win a set, Pera should be able to, but thus far Pera has been the bigger hitter in her matches and I’m curious to see how she trades power with Jabeur. She’ll have a bit of confidence at least, since she won their previous hardcourt meeting (too many seasons ago to be completely relevant) in straight sets. I just think Jabeur will be able to rush Pera and it will make all the difference. Jabeur in 2.

We’re in the midst of a pretty nasty divorce. She’s been cold and bitter for over a year now. The reason the marriage ended was completely my fault according to her. Everything is my fault according to her. Except one thing.
During full disclosure she had to provide her finances. She had a credit card that she had told me she had cancelled. On there were charges for hotel rooms, Air BNB’s, and dinners for two at fancy places. Going on for months.
This dude was hitting her up on Snapchat about “buying stuff” from us. No one does that via Snapchat. I later caught her dropping him off down the road before picking up our kid. She was adamant she was not having an affair when we were initially going through our divorce. But she said “I wish I was because that would make all of this easier.”
She was staying out until 3 or 4 in the morning at this guys “sisters house”, who is allegedly her friend. Sometimes she didn’t come home at all.
The best part, he got a divorce when I caught them messaging each other on Snapchat. His wife of almost 2 decades left him abruptly. The charges for hotel rooms go back months prior to that.
Why can’t she just admit it? Why can’t she just give me the closure that she was in fact having an affair?

Hey! I’m an incoming Grad student coming to Baylor in the fall, and looking to rent an apartment for the duration of my program. I’m not from the area so I’m looking for some advice. Anyone have experience renting off campus? There are a ton of complexes I’m finding online, but it’s hard to trust their reviews. In your opinion, what’s the best apartment complex near Baylor?

I don’t know how to navigate this post, but I feel as though I may just be insecure. My bf has two female best friends both 21F, and he originally was hanging out with them 4-5 days a week from 5-10 hours at a time. They’ve exchanged clothes and laid in the same bed together. My boyfriend also implied they were more fun than me, as I don’t really talk a lot and they do. I am trying to work on my social skills but it comes naturally to them. They have been friends for 3 years before my bf and I got together. They used to be in a friend group with one other male, but he got a girlfriend and cut them off as one of them liked him. I feel like they may have liked my boyfriend before too, but he always tells me nothing has ever happened and they haven’t. They are also model pretty, and I’m on the homely side. I know I’m being insecure and when we first started dating he cut them off for me which I feel bad about. I actually encouraged him to get back in touch with them because I didn’t want to be the same person I used to be and control him. I feel like the only reason they haven’t dated is because there’s two of them and it would probably be weird for him to date just one of them and it would mess up the dynamic. He lied about spending the night at their house once with me and I can’t get over it. I just don’t know what to do or how to accept it. Can men and women really be platonic friends? When I recount my friendships with men (which there wasn’t many) there was always some budding interest. I just wonder why he’s never dated one or the other. They hang out alone often and drink and smoke together. How do I overcome this insecurity?
Tl;dr: I am uncomfortable with my bfs female best friends.

Trigger warnings: depression, emotional, mental and physical abuse, child abuse, abortions, suicide idealations and attempts.
Backstory: I was diagnosed with epilepsy when I was 13 years old, although some doctors believe I'd been having seizures since I was as young as 6 or 7. I was also diagnosed with manic depression/bipolar disorder when I was 16.
At 21 I gave birth to my first daughter, M. A little under two years later I had my second daughter, A. The first pregnancy wasn't easy and I had a lot of seizures during the course of the pregnancy. Many trips to the hospital to make sure baby was safe. But after I gave birth I jumped straight into motherhood. I lived roughly 4 hours away from my parents and struggled with feeling homesick frequently. I called my dad daily for parenting advice, to vent, to update him, and also to help subside that homesick feeling. Regardless though, I was a very attentive and active mom. I spent all of my time with M. She was my best friend. I LOVED being a mom and I was THRIVING. After M turned 1, I moved back "home" and moved back in with my parents. My second pregnancy was much the same. Uncomfortable pregnancy, many seizures. However with this pregnancy I had some complications that caused A to be born 10 weeks early. This caused A to spend the first several months of her life in the nicu and even had to have gastral intestinal surgery before she was even 4 months old. Due to my epilepsy I do not drive, but I did everything I could in my power to see my A as frequently and for as long as I could. Visiting hours were somewhat restricting though.
At some point in time I started displaying symptoms of postpartum depression that was heavily exasperated by my manic depression. I was at an all time low. The physical pain of a depression that immense had crippled me. I felt like I had concrete in my veins. Just getting up and going to the bathroom was an exhausting task. I spent most of my days sleeping as an escape from the pain and exhaustion. Thankfully I lived with my parents, my younger daughters father (J), and some of my sisters. I would say I had plenty of help and support, but a more accurate statement would be "the children were looked after". I on the other hand was mocked, teased and belittled at every opportunity. At the time I thought nothing of it. I thought "that's just how my family is" I was raised with the motto "the more I tease you, the more I love you". Before my dad knew I was pregnant (I kept it a secret for 18 weeks because J was pressuring me to get an unwanted abortion.) my dad pointed to my stomach one morning and said "you know, some situps would help with that" I was devastated, already feeling fat and disgusting, and went to my room to cry.
Without me even realizing it, the negative comments and belittling nature of my family took a toll on me and I was getting deeper and deeper into my depression without a light at the end of the tunnel. I HATED myself for not being able to get up and play with my children. I couldn't understand how I could be so active and attentive with M at that age but I just didn't have it in me for A. I felt like I'd failed her in so many ways. I tried my best to find solutions to the problem. Often times I'd try to find games to play with them that involved me lying or at least sitting on the couch. Puzzles, coloring, movies, cars. Anything low impact, but kids want to run and play and be active.. I felt like the worst mom of all times and I wasn't being told differently by those around me. In fact my greatest fears were being confirmed daily. One day I finally broke and had a full mental breakdown in front of my mom. I had confessed to my mom that I was having suicidal idealations. I knew deep down I didn't want to end my life, but I wanted the pain to stop. I couldn't breathe under the weight of my depression and I desperately needed help. I sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, confessing all of my deepest darkest thoughts and feelings at that time. My mom, in my opinion, brushed me off and said "well look into counseling or something" and then walked away, while I stayed sitting against our front door, crying my heart out. I felt devastated. All I wanted was a hug and some comfort but it was clear I was barking up the wrong tree. I got myself together, went upstairs, and went to sleep in order to escape the heartbreak and numb myself again. This entire timeline is a blur to me, so I'm not sure how much time passed between my melt down and this next conversation, but I feel like it was less than a week when my mom sat me down to have a conversation about the girls.
She suggested to me that my parents take temporary custody of the girls until I was able to "get on my feet". She kept pushing this narrative that it was what was best for the girls and their safety. She used my epilepsy as an excuse. Telling me that it was unsafe for the girls to be under my care when my epilepsy was so unpredictable. She also used my mental health, feeding into all of my fears and my own perceived shortcomings. A decent way into the conversation, my dad joined us. His whole demeanor radiated "this is a waste of my time. Just do what we say so I can go do other things" but maybe that was me reading too deeply into his behavior. Once he sat down it felt like my mom leaned even deeper into this narrative that they were clearly the better option for the girls wellbeing, but it would only be for a short time and that they were mainly concerned with the girls quality of life. I really struggled with what to do. I already felt like I was failing my children because I was so mentally and emotionally drained and detached. I didn't want to abandon them or lose them, but I also didn't want to harm them in the ways I had been harmed growing up. I figured my mom knew best because she had been in my shoes for all of my childhood. The vast majority of memories I have of my mom are of her sleeping on the couch, or raging out over the most minuscule things. I didn't want my children raised like that... So reluctantly, I agreed, truly believing I was doing a selfless thing and putting my children first. (This would later be used against me at every opportunity) I signed a piece of computer paper that my mom had scribbled an agreement on, stating that I was signing over temporary custody of my kids to my parents, with the understanding that I would get full custody back at an undisclosed time.
One day while I was down the road at a friend's house, my mom called me frantic, demanding I get home immediately. I rushed up to the house to find out that A's dad, J, had her wrapped in three blankets, in her car seat (it's the only place she would sleep). She was drenched in sweat (apparently new borns aren't supposed to sweat, especially not that much) and she was crying hysterically due to discomfort. J was irate, screaming at her and aggressively shaking the car seat. My mom said she heard him scream "shut the fck up or I'm going to *unalive you". She was under the impression that him and I were arguing again, and had come to break up the fight. (This always seemed odd to me seeing as how she never once intervened in our arguments before) When she realized I wasn't home and he was talking to A, she grabbed A and went downstairs. As she walked down the hall, j punched a hole in the wall near her head. He claimed he was "only trying to scare her" because she was "stealing his child from him" I was outraged and mortified. I tried multiple times to leave him and kick him out, but I had no support from my family. At one point I even resorted to packing up all of his belongings and throwing them out on the lawn. I'm not proud of that but I felt I had no other choice, and rushed to lock the doors when he went to get his things. My sister promptly unlocked the door and let him back in, claiming I was "acting psychotic" I felt trapped... But I had grown up around this behavior. My dad was an angry drunk and I had grown up believing that those behaviors were "passion" rather than aggression. So I accepted my fait and went on as if nothing had happened, certain that this would be the rest of my life.
One day when J was driving me to work we got into an argument and he repeatedly told me "your dad was right. You should do the world a favor and just unalive yourself. Everyone would be a lot happier" he kept repeating it over and over until I finally had it. He pulled up to a stop sign and I got out of the car and started walking down the road. He immediately started freaking out, begging me to get back in the car, using everything he could think of to manipulate me into getting back into the car. I finally caved and got back in. J dropped me off at work and as I got out of the car I told him "we're over. I'm breaking up with you". I closed the door before he could say a word and walked into work feeling like I was on cloud 9. It felt like all of my troubles had been wiped away. When I got inside, I told a friend what happened and explained that I didn't want to go home that night because I knew a guilt trip was waiting for me when I got there. I knew there would be an argument that would last hours and I would finally break due to exhaustion and would inevitably take him back. My coworker seemed to understand and let me stay at his house as long as I needed.
I called my mom and told her what had happened. I begged and pleaded with her to kick J out, but she refused. She was concerned that he'd try to take A if she kicked him out. I told her I was certain he wouldn't. He only ever cared about himself and his own self preservation. A baby would only make things harder for him and it was a responsibility and a role he didn't even want in the first place. I told her J had spent 18 weeks pressuring me to abort A and was evening willing to drive me out of state to get the procedure done, until I finally put my foot down and told him no, I was keeping my baby. I stayed away for 2 full weeks, the entire time begging and pleading with my family. Pointing out his abusive tendencies and his history with verbal and physical abuse and outbursts. My mom held her ground and refused to help me in any capacity. Every time M asked where I was, my mom would say "your mom's at work" rather than have her call me and talk to me. This created a lot of psychological trauma for M. She had severe seperstion anxiety, having panic attacks any time someone had to leave the house, convinced that if they left they'd never return. Still to this day she has abandonment issues as well as severe panic attacks.
After two weeks, I started coming over for visits but I never moved back in. During this time, J informed me that he was talking to another girl. He made it abundantly clear that she was 16. He was roughly 25 or 26 at the time. I later found out that they weren't talking. In fact, she had a boyfriend who was age appropriate, but J had been going and telling their entire friend group that they had been messing around together. I was then informed by my younger sibling L, that J had made advances on her that she quickly shut down. I think she was roughly 18 at the time. When this didn't pan out and J didn't get the reactions he expected from myself or L, he moved on. Years later I was told the same time xact story by both J and my oldest sister Al. "We had been hanging out, drinking, smoking. Ya know, the usual. And then well... Because I was so inebriated, they took advantage of me and we slept together" Knowing the both of them well enough, I knew it was consensual and they were just embarrassed and scared of my reaction. I laughed and told them they deserved one another.
As you can imagine, J's questionable life choices caught up with him and he was rejected from every friend group he had, to the point where he left the state and broke all contact with myself, and my family. It was a weight off my shoulders when he was finally gone. At that point I had gotten my own apartment but it was the first time I lived alone, paying my own bills, and I was not good at it. I was missing bill payments left and right. My power was shut off in the middle of winter and before long I was evicted. I was homeless and asked my parents if I could move home. They said no, that it would be too confusing for the girls if I moved back in with them. I ended up staying with friends on the couch in a one bedroom. It was extremely uncomfortable, but I had a roof over my head. When their lease was up, they invited me to get a new place with them. I agreed and I started learning about finances and how to be a functioning part of society.
My parents said I was welcome to visit the girls any time I wanted, but when I'd ask, it was a whole ordeal and guilt trip because they had to come pick me up and refused to bring my kids to my place. They said the car ride was too much for the girls to handle. Mind you, Ms dad B, still lives 4 hours away. My parents regularly drive both of my daughters up to see B and his parents whenever Bs parents request it. However, a 30 minute drive was asking far too much of such young and fragile children. When I argued that point they would use other excuses why they would not be bringing my children to see me. Once again I felt powerless and like a bad mom, being paraded by my parents for not being more active in my kids lives, but when I tried to make the effort it was scorned and met with negativity.
I self isolated for awhile, but still tried to be apart of my children's lives.
Over the years I've brought up the custody agreement, pointing out that it was supposed to only be temporary. I think my parents got frustrated with this because once the girls started school, my mom pressured me to sign over full custody, claiming it would make filling out paperwork a lot easier on my parents. But it was still only temporary, supposedly. Again, I continued to press for custody back and I would be met with argument after argument, bombarded with all of my shortcomings. On multiple occasions my mom told me "if you take custody of the girls back it will destroy mine and your father's marriage. Some days the girls are the only thing keeping us together" I was also told "if you take custody back it will literally kill your father. He won't survive." A year or so ago I told my mom we needed to go to therapy because I could not speak to her without a mediator. She finally agreed and we had two sessions. The first of which she cried her eyes out, telling the therapist that she's always done her absolute best for us kids and that we never appreciate anything she's done for us. She said "I took on the responsibility of raising two young children while she was out there f*cking anyone and everyone she wanted" mind you, during the time frame she was talking about, I had one intimate partner. When I confronted her about it outside of the session she said "I said that to highlight the poor life choices you were making at the time"
Fast-forward to now, A and I have a good relationship, but she's closest to my dad over everyone. M and I still have an incredibly tight bond though. She tells me everything. I'm her best friend.
The things she's been telling me the last couple of years are bringing up a lot of PTSD and trauma for me from my childhood. It's been opening my eyes to the level of mental abuse I suffered at the hands of my parents.
At this point you're probably thinking what I thought for most of my life. "This girl's mom sounds like a monster" It wasn't until recently that my father's facade was irreversibly shattered in my eyes. M had come to me and asked "what would you say if I asked to be called unisex name". I told her "I wouldn't say anything. I'd just call you by the name you chose. I love you no matter what I call you. I will always love you no matter what. There's nothing in this world that will change that, especially not a name." In time M came to me and said "how would you react if I told you I like girls" I said "the same way I reacted when you wanted to change your name. I will always accept, support and love you, no matter what"
She had gone to my mom with the same questions and my mom had roughly the same response. My dad on the other hand had a much more viseral response. When the name was brought up, he hit the roof, yelling "I'm not having another kid try and change their name. That's stupid. You have a name." (L changed their name when they were in school and my father always hated it and still refuses to call L by their chosen name) When the topic of sexual preference was broached he'd just roll his eyes, huff and act like M was being stupid and childish. As I touched up on previously, M has severe panic attacks. I can relate because I also suffer from them and they were extremely bad around the same age that M is now. From things M had told me in passing I'm under the impression that she was being bullied at school. Every morning was a struggle. She would beg my parents to let her stay home. If it was up to my mom, she'd get frustrated and give in, saying "whatever. Do whatever you want. You do anyway. None of you ever listen to me or respect anything I say" and M would go lie in bed and call me crying that she "upset nana" If it were my dad however, he'd yell at her to get her @$$ in the car and that he wasn't dealing with her $ht. She would have full fledged panic attacks in the car to which he would yell and scream at her to knock off the teenage bllsh*t and to suck it up. One day he even threatened to institutionalize her if this behavior continued. She called me, mid breakdown, telling me everything that had happened and asked me "what even does that mean? Is he gonna lock me up in a psych ward because I'm having panic attacks?" I assured her that no one was doing any such thing. I then called my parents and tore into them for treating her like that. My skin was crawling, I was so appalled at his behavior.
He tries his best to mask his negativity and what I consider to be narcissistic tendencies. He went from being an angry alcoholic to being a sober helpful part of the church he attends. I told my mom recently that I believe he swapped one addiction for another. He portrays this happy healthy life and family all over social media, showing my kids off to the people at his church, claiming they're his kids. So much so to the point that I had attended a few services and people thought I was their sister, not their mom, because my dad refuses to refer to them as his grandchildren. He's even taken it so far as to claim that he BIRTHED them. I don't know what level of psychosis it takes for a man to claim that he carried two children in his womb, but that's besides the point.
Also to Ms detriment, he will tease her about her weight, her eating habits, her sleeping habits. He will also make snide comments about LGBTQ+ related and adjacent topics.
L, had also suffered this same emotional and mental abuse for years from our dad and subsequently my mom who is too scared of my dad to stand up for her own beliefs. L finally made the difficult decision to go no contact for their mental health. This was extra difficult for them because that meant they had less access to their nieces and nephew, but they had to do what was best for their mental state and they took a step back. At one point my dad had brought L up, calling them by their dead name and misgendering them. When M corrected my dad he scoffed and said "people who change their names and gender are just people who weren't loved enough as a child" M responded with "k.." and went to her room to call me, explaining how incredibly offensive that statement was, especially seeing as how that's his own child. She said "who's fault is it if L wasn't loved enough as a child?" (She's extremely aware for her age)
I got a phone call from A one afternoon. She was crying and told me "I'm just sad because I'm never going to see L again because she abandoned us." I asked who told her that and she said "papa said dead name abandoned us because she doesn't care about the family anymore" I explained that none of that was true and that L missed them very much, and wanted to see them very much.
I spoke to L regularly about the situation at hand, being as supportive as possible while trying to stay out of the family drama. After months of distancing themselves from our parents, they came to me for help and guidance. They wanted to have dinner with our parents to try and mend their relationships. However they were scared of the response they would receive, so I offered to be the buffer and reach out on their behalf.
My mom's response was perfect. She said "I would love to have dinner with them. Tell me when and where" My dad's response was less ideal. He said "we would love to have dinner with her. If she's ready to respect our family and our beliefs we would be happy to have dinner with her" I lost it on him. I told him that I was sick and tired of his behavior. He puts on a holier than thou facade but he doesn't actually act very christ like in reality. I pointed out that when the prodigal son returned he wasn't met with "are you ready to ahere to our rules and regulations now? Are you prepared to act the way that we want you to? If you are then you can come home, but if not, get out" he was welcomed home with open arms, regardless of anything he had done or said. He replied with "I had a gut feeling that I shouldn't have responded to that text. I should've listened to that gut instinct"
I've gone no contact with him since that argument, but as you can imagine, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
On mother's day, my dad was out of town but my girls went to church with my mom. There was a guest speaker who had an extremely antitrans message. The way my mom explained it was "if your kid comes out as trans, you're a failure as a mom" I was dumbfounded to hear that they'd have a message like that at all, but especially on mother's day, shaming parents, but specifically mom's, into rejecting their children's self identification, as if one person has control over another person's identity. M told me she didn't ever want to go back. I told her I understood and I'd do my best to make sure she didn't have to.
Today is my birthday and my girls are coming over. M texted me this morning saying "I'm getting ready for church. I was told that if I wanted to go to my mom's house, I had to go to church first" This used to be a place that she felt safe and happy in and now it's become a place of contention for her. She'll ask my mom if she can stay home (never my dad) and although my mom usually caves and lets her stay home, it's always with some stipulation.
My dad is a controlling, manipulative, homophobic, close minded fraud of a Christian who is emotionally and mentally harming and abusing my children, and my mom isn't much safer for either of them, always siding with my dad out of fear and exhaustion.
I desperately want to remove them from this situation and regain full custody but I don't know where to start. I work two jobs in order to make ends meet. I'm behind on my rent. I have to take buses and Ubers everywhere I go. I have a very small two bedroom apartment (the girls each have their own rooms at my parents house). They have friends and a sense of community where they are, with a nice sized backyard, a trampoline, two of my three siblings are close by so they get to see their cousins daily. I don't want to rip them away from the only home they've known for years. I don't want to uproot them and disrupt the little amount of structure they do have. I don't even know how I would manage two jobs as well as a 10 and a 12 year old, but I also don't want to leave them in this toxic suffocating and damaging environment when all along I thought it was a better and safer environment for them than what I had to offer.
I feel like I'm still brainwashed to some extent by my parents, second guessing my abilities as a mom. Telling myself I'm not capable of the things I need to do for these girls. I'm at a loss for what to do at this point. Do I fight for custody back? Do I leave them as they are? Do I continue to try and advocate for them even though it either falls on deaf ears or makes matters so much worse, because that frustration is then taken out on my kids?

Hi all, looking for some input and experience with digital backs for Hasselblad v-systems.
I'm a studio portrait photographer, and I switch a lot between film and digital processes, often in the same shoot. I also occasionally work on location. Recently, I feel pretty uninspired by my digital workflow and while I've been brainstorming ways to get jazzed about shooting digitally again, it crossed my mind that using a digital back on my 500cm could be a great option. I'm thinking it could provide some of the same satisfying experience of using a mechanical camera that I love about shooting film in the studio and reduce the number of cameras I need to use in a single shoot.
So, I've been looking at digital back options for the V-series. Frankly, I'm a bit overwhelmed by the options, and I have remaining questions. So I thought I'd ask for input and advice here.
First, since I've yet to find a comprehensive list of options anywhere online, I thought I'd at least try and compile a list of makes/models:Phase One H Models (H20)Phase One P Models (P25, P45, P65)Kodak DSC BackLeaf Valeo Models (6, 11, 22)Leaf Aptus Models (II-33, 54, 65, 75)CFV models (16, 39, 50, II 50C)
I'm sure I'm missing some.
The new CFV models are not in the budget for me, so I'm looking at older backs. I'm only considering those that don't require tethering to a computer. It's important to me to be at least a bit mobile and not need a computer nearby, so CF card capture or something similar is a must.
Here are a few questions that remain:

1. A lot of reviewers and users mention the connection issue between the back and the camera. My hope is that, if I go this route, using a digital back on a 500cm would be my go-to studio workhorse setup, but this connection issue gives me pause. Is the finnicky cable connection via PC-sync a dealbreaker for my purposes or just a minor nuisance?
2. Many reviewers say that they had to get their 500 model camera adjusted to obtain critical focus for a digital back. Does this mean that the camera would then not have critical focus for a regular film back? If I'm going to go this route, I'd need to be able to switch between film and digital easily and without a hitch. I don't want to have to modify/adjust my 500CM in a way that makes it unable to shoot film accurately.
3. Since I shoot portraiture, I'd want a back that can be used in portrait orientation (or one that has a square aspect ratio). I recall reading that at least one of the models I listed above was rotatable, but now I don't seem to be able to find that information anywhere. Which of these might work best for studio portraiture when it comes to aspect ratio and orientation?
4. Lastly, and more generally, is it a pipedream to think that a 500CM with a digital back (especially given that it wouldn't be the new CFV II 50c) could be a go-to portrait setup? It sounds really great in theory, but the more I dig, the more I'm confronted with the compromises and hiccups that these backs pose. I still want to give it due consideration. If it's possible, great. But if it's totally impractical, then I don't want to have any illusions about it.

Any other input, sample photos, experience, etc is great appreciated too!
EDIT: I am financial restricted for the time being. I can't imagine I'll be able to put more the 1-2K toward this, at least for now and until I'm more familiar with the role a digital back can play in my workflow.

Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
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Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: November 30th, 2136
​
“Wait”. The voice is so sudden I don’t even realize it’s my own at first.
Mosun looks up at me, confused. I’m confused too. Thiva’s right in there. I want to storm in, but there’s something wrong, there’s
A recording of a crying baby
I shake my head and step back, motioning for him to follow me.
Another scream echoes through the hall. Mosun swallows, but lets go of the handle.
Think. You’re in charge of a bunch of terrorists all gung-ho to go Helter Skelter on humanity. You’re a sadistic alien psychopath. You mutilate animals. You keep trophies. You don’t give a damn about your sister. You kill humans. Your tools for that are firebombs that go off when they open doors, and recordings of vulnerable things in distress.
But why here? Why set the trap here? Taking her to a second location makes more sense. Why your base, or this close to it? Why are you luring the human here?
It’s not because he’s here too soon. You expected the warpath right away. You know their empathy and protective instincts overrides their rationality. You might not have expected him to gather a posse, but you know the humans are social animals. You had to know it was a possibility.
So why… Here…
Mosun whispers. “Martin, what’s the matter? Why aren’t we going in?”
There’s something I’m missing. Think. Think! You were happy to get the first human kills while you weren’t even in the area. You might’ve placed the traps or had your mooks do it but either way you were fine with being absent when they went off. Why is this time different?
It’s because the humans were gathered in one place, isn’t it? The fire wasn’t about killing us. It was about scattering us and leaving us solitary enough to hunt. Or maybe... Maybe it didn’t satisfy, didn’t scratch that itch. No trophies, no mutilations.
Because you are a predator. An ambush predator. You want to be close to the trap, like a spider. You want to look the human in the eyes as he dies, and take something to remember the kill by.
You’re here, somewhere.
​
I swallow, and look at the door. It slides open, like almost all Venlil doors.
Alright, time to Human.
I take the strap to my rifle, and gingerly unsling it from the weapon. I grab one of my last zip ties and loop it around the handle, and in the buckle of the strap.
Mosun flicks his ear in a Venlil-esque sign for understanding and agreement at once, and moves down the hallway. I follow him.
The strap and zip-tie together are perhaps two meters in length, so with a bit of an annoyed grunt I take off my belt and add that to the makeshift rope. That gives me a little under a meter extra.
I hand the rifle to Mosun, and hold a hand up to him while clutching the rope in the other.
Three. Two. One.
I close my eyes and turn away in one single motion, tugging at the door handle. As soon as the door parts from the frame there’s a blast, sending me and Mosun to the ground. The air stinks of wood-pulp, smoke, and dust.
Jesus Christ!!
My ears are ringing as I get on my unsteady feet and grasp the rifle from Mosun, stumbling my way to the ruined doorway and peering inside.
The room is empty but for shrapnel and debris and a cloud of dust. None of it looks like it was alive.
Oh thank God, the bastards weren’t using live bait.
With the high-pitched ringing slowly subsiding I take a few steps down the hall, before falling to one knee from disorientation.
I don’t hear the Exterminator storm up the stairs. But I see them just fine.
​
The visor’s reflective. The armor’s bulky. The flamethrower’s lit.
With Mosun behind me in the small hallway, there’s nowhere to run. No time to think.
This isn’t aiming at someone’s back, or a sleeping and prone body. I don’t have time to hesitate, so I don’t.
I start shooting from the hip and raise the gun to my shoulder while firing. The weapon jumps in my hand with each pull of the trigger, and from my awkward stance I have quantity stand in for quality. Wood splinters fly from the wall behind the Exterminator, who jerks as some of the shots strike true.
After swaying for a second and losing their grip on their flamethrower, they tumble right down the stairs. The weapon clatters down after them, connected to their fuel tank.
I get to my feet and try to rush over to the stairs. I slam into the wall for my trouble, but get my bearings and raise the rifle.
The Exterminator’s laying prone at the foot of the stairs. They stir weakly and move a paw toward their weapon.
I fire another salvo of rounds. The sound echoes and makes my ears hurt even worse than the blast already did. The Exterminator jerks a couple of times, lets out a shuddering breath, and then goes still.
They’re dead. This is it. I killed someone.
I expect it to hit me like a sledgehammer. I expect to end up doubled over, hurling my guts out. That’s what you always see in the movies.
Instead my response is as anticlimactic as the killing itself: I just hope it was Renak.
​
I feel Mosun’s hand on my back. He speaks with quiet sympathy. “…Are you alright?”
I sigh slowly. “Yeah… Yeah. Predator, remember?”
Some of his usual energy creeps back into his voice. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to say it.”
We head down the stairs while I fiddle with my makeshift rope to restore my belt and rifle sling to their proper places. The sling needs to be tied into a knot to be put to use, as the buckle is beyond saving. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll break down later, but for now we have a- MOVE!!”
I see a cylinder about half the size of a Pringles can roll into the room, and push Mosun forcibly into the kitchen. To his credit he doesn’t question it, instead lunging past me.
Instead of a pipe bomb blast as I had feared, the grenade starts leaking thick white smoke.
They don’t have CS gas and that thing looked homemade. So probably phosphorous.
I look around the kitchen desperately before finding a salad bowl in the dishes. I immediately turn the faucet to full blast to fill the bowl with water while the hissing grenade spreads its noxious fumes. I can start to smell and taste the acrid, garlic-like stench. My body starts coughing, my eyes watering and lungs itching.
Yeah. Phosphorous. Fuck.
Mosun coughs a few times and tries to cover his mouth with his arm. “What are you d-doing?!”
As soon as there’s enough water in the bowl, I turn around and lunge at the grenade. Using an awkward double-handed dunking motion, I trust centripetal force to make it work as I flip the water-filled bowl and slam it down around the grenade.
There’s a mess of sloshing, and a lot of hissing, but no more gas escapes. Water slowly starts to leak out from the bowl’s edges, but by the time it’s done it’ll have stopped the reaction.
“Mosun, w-wash your… Oh FUCK OFF!!”
Halfway through my statement I see another Exterminator enter the room. They step over their fellow’s body without a glance and raise their flamethrower toward us.
I raise my rifle in turn and begin firing: three shots in rapid succession.
Before I’ve had time to adjust my aim they’ve already disappeared from view down the hallway beside the stairs, long tail visible for a split second before vanishing. I’ve never seen a Venlil move as sinuously and quickly as that.
​
I cough a couple of times and wipe my eyes. It doesn’t help. When Mosun appears with a glass of water however, I can dump it directly onto my face. My stinging eyes cry out with relief.
After just a few seconds of exposure to the gas, I’d love a date with an eyewash station. But it’ll have to wait.
Mosun takes the lead wordlessly, motioning with a paw for me to follow. So I do, stepping over my kill in the process. Unlike the Exterminator, I can’t help but look down at it.
There’s so much less blood than I expected.
As Mosun rounds the corner into the next room, he’s forced into an awkward duck against the doorway as a stun rod swishes through the air. He kicks out at the assailant with a growl, and lunges forward into the other room.
I follow as quickly as I can.
In the living room, the two are already locked in a brawl. Mosun’s shorter than the Exterminator, and has less range.
I make a guess and try to distract them. If the Yotul gives me some distance I can shoot. “Renak!”
The Exterminator freezes for a split second, and Mosun gets a good kick in.
Guess that’s you then, motherfucker.
Renak rolls with the kick and manages to get Mosun’s leg caught in his arm. The stun rod swings down, and Mosun’s forced to block it with his arm. The electricity courses through him and he gasps out, dropping to a knee.
Without a good angle, I drop the rifle and trust my sling to keep it from hitting the ground. Instead I charge in to join the fray.
​
With a wild and poorly planned left hook, I manage to get Renak to take a single step back. Enough for Mosun to rise to unsteady legs. The little badass weaves a few times as he moves into an elegant-looking stance. “Ambush, ambush, ambush. You only know the one trick, huh?”
In response, Renak drops into his own stance. The stun rod’s held in one paw, high near his shoulder. The other paw’s held outward in a warding gesture.
Feeling left out, I get into a boxer’s stance. Though all this excitement’s making the wounds on my right arm ache and act up.
The three of us are still for a moment. “…There’s just you left, Renak. Your terrorist group’s done for.” Technically there’s one other Exterminator left unaccounted for. But I don’t see a reason to tell him that.
He tilts his head toward me for a second. I see myself reflected in the visor.
Mosun’s the first to move, lunging in low. I charge in right after. Renak doesn’t step back, instead swinging the rod down.
Mosun leans back so far he’s almost prone, using his tail and one arm as leverage to kick up at Renak’s arm and stop the descending blow. The movement is beautiful, and wouldn’t look out of place in some sort of Capoeira. By all rights it should break the arm, but the heavy Exterminator armor takes most of the force.
I come in with my own simple straight punch with my left, but I overextend and Renak swats it aside sharply with his own free arm. Instead of relenting, I jab with my right. I catch him on the shoulder and do little damage.
Renak shifts his stance and raises his baton to swing it downward at me. Mosun moves to intercept, but Renak’s leg lashes out and catches Mosun’s knee from the side. The swing that was coming my way turns into a descending thrust at the Yotul, who gets the baton jabbed straight into his torso.
Mosun’s shriek fills the room as he thrashes under the coruscating electrical blow, and I strike Renak with everything I’ve got in a desperate and unrefined haymaker.
I catch the bastard right in the visor and hear a loud sound. It hurts. Renak staggers back with a yelp, dropping the stun rod, and turns to look squarely at me. I’ve cracked his visor, and probably broken a finger or two in the bargain.
I stare for the length of a breath at the cracks in the reflective surface, seeing my own rage reflected in a dozen fractured images.
​
Renak calmly reaches behind him and pulls out his sidearm. He doesn’t even glance aside as he extends his arm and puts two bullets into Mosun. The gunshots echo in the enclosed space.
“NO!!” I hear myself shouting as I fumble for my rifle. Renak turns his arm toward me and fires again. I hear the crack and a whistle as a bullet flies right past my head.
A second bullet whizzes past and strikes the door frame, tumbling past with a ricochet whine. It missed only because I’m falling to one knee.
With my own rifle raised, I return fire. We’re firing at each other from mere feet away. I fire three times. I miss the first shot, but the second hits him in the thigh. The third takes him in the side somewhere.
He’s spun around, but empties the gun in my direction as he staggers into a dash out of the room, toward the basement.
It’s only when I rise to my feet that I realize I’ve been shot too. My left leg burns, and can’t carry my weight. I awkwardly hop over to Mosun and kneel to investigate his wounds.
​
His collarbone’s been shattered by one bullet. Another has caught him on the inside of the shoulder. I don’t know Yotul anatomy, but I’m guessing if it’s caught a lung or an artery he’s in real trouble. “Come on, you can’t leave me alone here; you’re the only one I can talk to.”
He takes a slow breath and doesn’t even bother trying to get up. He simply looks at me and plainly says “Ow.”
I can breathe again. The wound’s leaking, but not spurting. Oh thank God.
“Christ, okay, we gotta get you out of here. I don’t think it’s immediately fatal, but the blood loss is gonna get you if we don’t stop it.”
“Later. Get him, then help.”
I shake my head. “I can’t just-”
He swats at me with his good arm. “Not safe to extract. And still need the girl.”
I look around and end up taking a blanket folded over the couch and handing it to him. “Press this into the wounds, as hard as you can. I’ll be back.”
“Y-You better be. I’ll be upset if you m-make me walk back to the truck on my own.”
I get up and grasp my rifle, and limp my way after Renak.
Unless he’s got another ambush planned in the basement, Thiva is his last chance. And the bastard knows it.
​
I make my way down the basement steps, but it’s slow going. I have to use my injured right arm to brace myself, holding the rifle ahead with the left. My adrenaline’s starting to go down enough that the leg is starting to really hurt. So’s my left hand.
At the foot of the stairs, Renak’s discarded the helmet. The room contains several boxes of explosives, and flamethrowers.
Their weapons stores. Great.
In the middle of the room there’s a chair. Bound to it is Thiva. She’s got cuts and bruises over her body, and her beautiful fur is matted orange all over.
Behind her stands Renak. He’s got a knife to her throat.
I raise the rifle and stare right at Renak. “Let the girl go.”
Thiva gasps out as she sees me. “Martin!” She tries to lean forward, but the blade presses harder into her neck and she shrinks back into the chair.
Renak stares back at me, head-on and with both eyes. When he speaks, his voice is emotionless and without inflection. He sounds bored. “Move a muscle, predator, and Thiva dies.”
I look at my friend. She looks terrified. “Hey Thiva, don’t worry. I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. Alright?”
She gives the tiniest nod.
Renak growls. “Look at me, predator.”
My eyes shift back to his again. They’re dull and empty. Just black beads of glass set into his face. It’s like looking at a machine. A complex structure, but no soul animating it.
My leg is trembling, and I feel hot and sticky blood running down it. “You don’t need the girl. You can just let her go, and we can leave, and nobody else needs to die.”
He blinks slowly. “My sister is better off dead than as a predator’s mate. If I can’t save her body from you, I can save her honor.” To emphasize his point, he lets the knife dig further into her throat. I see some orange running down it, and the fur beneath Thiva’s eyes are damp with tears.
My breathing is heavy, and my aim is shaky. “I stormed a terrorist compound to get this far. I’m not leaving without her. You can have her over my dead body.”
​
He stares silently for a moment. “Fair enough.”
He raises his other arm toward me with a smooth and mechanical motion. His sidearm is in it.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet takes him in the head. With his strings cut, he drops in a heap.
​
I drop the rifle and rush forward to undo Thiva’s bindings. As soon as I do, her arms fly around me painfully tightly. I return the hug as best I can.
“Thiva, listen to me. Can you walk?”
She gets up and winces, but nods. “Y-yeah.”
“Okay, good. There’s a Yotul upstairs named Mosun. He needs immediate medical attention. We’ve got a truck waiting, we’re gonna head up and get both of you out there.”
One of her eyes suddenly moves up and stares behind me. I turn in place.
Vansi’s standing in stairway, taking in the scene.
“Thiva… Go. Now. Now!” I rise to my feet and put a hand on her back, walking alongside her for a few steps before she rushes the rest of the way past her mother and up the stairs.
Vansi doesn’t move to stop her. She just stares at the crumpled corpse behind us.
It’s only after I take another step that her eyes snap to me with fury.
And I realize my rifle’s right at her feet.
​
She snatches it up into trembling paws and aims it right at me.
“Vansi, listen, I-”
The weapon goes off.
I fall to my knees. My hands reach my stomach and feel sticky and wet.
She pulls the trigger again, and it clicks dry. She pulls another few times, but it’s empty.
​
I rise to my feet and try to lunge past her. But she simply swings the empty rifle at me. It hits my wounded stomach, and I fall to my side. She swings it down on me several more times, snarling and cursing, until the weapon breaks enough that she simply tosses what’s left aside.
It hurts. Jesus Christ it hurts so fucking bad.
I try to think of a way out of this as she staggers past me toward her son. I try to get to my feet again, but fail. I drag myself to the wall, and use it to pull myself up bit by bit. I limp along the wall, smearing trails of my own blood with my hands as I go.
I’m almost at the stairs when I hear an inarticulate scream and feel agony blooming out from my right side. I look down and see the knife, in Vansi’s paws.
Fuck.
​
I collapse on the ground and try to fend her off with my hands. She stabs me straight through the palm of my right hand, then stabs twice more at my left arm and shoulder. My left arm doesn’t respond to my signals, simply flopping down limply.
With only one chance left, I punch her with my right. Again and again, while she stabs at my torso.
There’s a cold math to blood loss. The more you lose, the weaker you get.
‘So you see, that's how I am going to die.’
Each of my blows does less than the last. My hands and feet feel ice cold, while my chest burns.
‘I'll sneeze in the sunlight, or turn my head a bit too fast when someone wants my attention from my blind spot’
Before long I can’t fight back. I simply lay still and hear my flesh tearing and Vansi screaming in my ears.
‘or show happiness with a smile or a laugh’
I can’t lift a finger or even turn my head as Vansi staggers off of me. My shallow breaths are agony, and I can feel one of my lungs has collapsed.
‘or god forbid I might try to save a life again.’
She returns with something else in her hands. I close my eyes.
‘And then someone like your son will show up and burn me alive for it.’
/// ERROR /// Memory transcription fragmented /// Subject no longer conscious.
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[First] [Previous]

2 years ago i got out of a horrible 4 year relationship he was addicted to drugs and i could sense a cloud of death following him which is what prompted me to finally get out
2 weeks after i left the girl who he was seeing before me (who then became my friend and then they continued to have sex while we were together) died from fentanyl in the bed that two weeks before had been my bed she was a certified good girl the only reason she would be doing drugs is to fit in with him
obviously that messed me up but 4 months later i met my soulmate his best friend had died the previous spring from fentanyl he fought to save his friend but addiction won. he helped me find peace with her death and that made take him seriously.
soon after before even really liking him i knew we were going to be together forever i also knew that those two people would be our children one day
last night they came to me in a dream and told me they didn’t properly die bc they didn’t know it was happening and asked me to help them come up with a new way to die
i owe a debt to them i want to help them but i don’t know how
TLDR: two people asked for help finishing a crossing in a dream i need to help them but don’t know how i am clairsentient and occasionally clairvoyant but have never done dream work please help me help them